#I got the magazine right- and they actually said they wanted to put more things to do with koromaru like hugging him but they held back!!

[yuseirra]

persona 3 - ryoji is a good boy

something wholesome!

you get to pet koromaru in P3R and the motion for it is really good.. you can tell the MC has a thing for dogs. He pets koromaru VERY well with all the skills and love. It's a short shot, but I loved seeing that!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Tipping Point

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut

Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.

Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.

So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.

Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.

“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.

“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”

“What’s up?”

“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.

“Aunt Alex…”

“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”

She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.

“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.

The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

“In the back!”

You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.

This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.

He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.

“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.

“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”

Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.

“Does that fit well?”

Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.

It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”

“Better,” you smile.

“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”

He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.

“Am I holding it right?” you ask.

“Yes.”

His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.

“Now what?”

“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”

You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.

“Better?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Never.”

“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”

Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”

“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”

“Great.”

Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.

He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.

“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.

Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.

x

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[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.

"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.

"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.

"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.

"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.

"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"

"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.

"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"

"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."

"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"

"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."

"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.

"Was too!" She yelled.

"Was not!" Steve yelled.

"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.

"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.

Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.

"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.

"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.

"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.

"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."

"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.

"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.

"You liked it?!" Robin asked.

"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.

"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."

"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.

"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.

"What?" Steve asked.

Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.

"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.

Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.

"I am an idiot," Steve said.

"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.

"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.

"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."

"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.

"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."

"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.

They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.

"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"Something else we have in common," she said.

"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."

"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.

"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.

"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."

"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.

"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.

"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."

They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.

They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.

Part Two

[reysdriver]

okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me

Sirius shows the world where his passion lies — rockstar!sirius x reader fluff

warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive

words: 1k

a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet

You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm. 

With The Marauders on tour, you’ve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. You’ve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in. 

That’s precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep. 

By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets. 

“Good morning, love.” Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head. 

“It was a good morning.” You teased, tossing him the magazine. “Then I saw you in the news.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens. 

Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on. 

Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?

The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down. 

“Oh, come on.” Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. “This is what got you all bothered?”

You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend. 

“Yes, so bothered I almost didn’t buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.” 

“Of course I’m happy. I love you, doll.”

Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap. 

“You know you’re the only one for me, right?” He whispered, hands tracing along your hips. 

You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face. 

“Tell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that you’re the only person she wants between her legs.” 

Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. “Love, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.”

Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back. 

You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin. 

“I’ll take care of it, alright?” He said, not elaborating at all. 

You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind. 

“Siri, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

✦✧✦✧✦

The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started. 

All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section. 

“You’re gonna do great, Siri.” You told him sincerely. 

He winked at you, cocky as ever. 

“I always do.” 

Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll let them all know I’m yours, and only yours.”

“They’re gonna go crazy.” You smiled.

“Damn right, they will. I’ll see you out there.”

Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle. 

The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all he’s done so far was enter. 

But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performance—Sirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight. 

Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking points—you know, your ‘how’s everybody doing?’ and whatnot—Sirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say. 

“I saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.” He started. “And not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it was…”

Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to. 

“That was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But I’ve thought about it because it’s been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo. 

Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world. 

It caused quite a reaction, but you weren’t listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.

[dovveri]

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

[nonotnolan]

Trial Period

"Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Blake's voice rang out through the apartment, though I couldn't quite tell why my roommate was currently mad at me. Still, if I didn't talk him down from whatever ledge he was on, he was just going to get more and more pissy. I sighed, and minimized the spreadsheet I was working on.

"Blake, you know I'm working from home today. Whatever you're mad about, you can come in here and talk to me about it. I'm sorry I left some dirty dishes in the sink, or whatever." He must have been mad, whatever I had done-- usually he waited until after he showered to talk to me.

He stomped into the living room so that he could stare down at me. "Oh no. You are in way more trouble than that. I just had the most interesting conversation at the gym today. Some beanpole fairy came up started flirting with me, and when I told him I didn't swing that way, guess what he did?" He paused, clearly waiting for me to confess to something, but I still had no idea why he was upset. "He pulled out his phone, and showed me a whole-ass conversation on Grindr with someone using my photos!"

I couldn't help but laugh, which certainly did not help him calm down. "Okay, and? Look, I'm sorry you got catfished, but I don't know why you're mad at me about it. You're trying to start a modeling career, right? It's one of the unfortunate risks of the job. I'm sorry that one of your Instagram followers has no sense of chill, but I don't see why that makes it my fault."

He shoved his phone into my face. "You see this photo? I downloaded it for a scheduled post, but it's from a gig that hasn't released yet. I'm not allowed to share any of those photos on social media until the magazine spread drops. You're the only other person who could have gotten onto my phone and grabbed it."

Well, that was a complication that I wasn't expecting. I stared at him, trying and failing to think of a loophole that sounded plausible. There was only one thing left to do. "Seth, I know you're in here," I said, loudly projecting my voice. "I know you wanted to try out a few different guys before you committed, but that's not gonna work anymore. The trial period is officially over. You broke it, you bought it. If you don't take Blake, he's going to ruin everything."

Blake scowled at me. "Who the fuck is Seth? Harry, what in the fuck is going on?"

"You're so cute when you're confused," I said, pinching his cheek. He was already pissed at me, I may as well go all out. Besides, I needed to give Seth enough time to prepare. "I'm not actually Harry. I haven't been for the last two weeks, not that you noticed. I'm actually a ghost who decided that this apartment would be a great place to find some new bodies to inhabit. And let's be honest, this whole complex is jam packed with hot, young studs like yourself." I couldn't help but flash an excited grin, and I think I might have let my real eyes flash for a few seconds. Well, whatever. I no longer needed to worry about keeping secrets from Blake.

I had clearly spooked him-- he started creeping backwards toward the door. "Harry, you're scaring me. That's not funny. Don't joke about that sort of thing, Harry. Just… fuck, delete that profile and promise me you won't do it again."

"Like I said, I'm not Harry," I said, grabbing my laptop bag and putting it in arm's length. I pulled out the mason jar that had Harry's soul in it, and placed it on the couch. "This is Harry. Or, what's left of him, anyway." Harry's soul fluttered around in a panic, banging into the glass walls as it tried to escape. Or maybe it was trying to warn Blake about what was about to happen next? It didn't really matter.

Blake had turned to run, but he didn't make it more than a few steps into the kitchen before he fell to the ground, as if something had slammed into his back. Seth hated possessing people using brute force, but his error hadn't left us with many other options. "Sorry for the close call, Phil," he said, adjusting his posture. Where Blake was constantly puffing his chest and arching his back, Seth had more of a forward slouch to his shoulders. It was a posture I was very familiar with-- regardless of the bodies we wore, we had been together long enough to recognize each other's presence.

"At least Blake has a good body," Seth said as he pulled himself up off the ground. "I was probably going to end up choosing this one anyway, to be honest." He started feeling up his chest, giving his nipples a few test pinches and letting out a soft moan. "Oh yeah, he's just as sensitive as I remembered. Do you have any spare jars in your bag? Obviously I didn't have time to put him to sleep before I possessed him, and he's just screaming non-stop in my head right now."

"Sounds like that's what you get for being careless," I said. "You know that helping you expel the soul is my favorite part. I'm not letting you rub one out in the bathroom, we're doing this the right way."

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come on, babe. You're at work for another five hours. I already said I was sorry, please don't force me to put up with the flesh owner for that long."

I closed my laptop and started unbuttoning my shirt. "Who said anything about waiting for me to get off work? No one tracks my activity as long as I get my work done on time." I leaned back and started groping Seth's hefty bulge. "Besides, we both know that Harry is trapped in a shit job. I bet we can get him something that pays way better."

He leaned over to give me a deep kiss. "You know, one of these days you'll get tired of turning your new hosts into porn stars," he said, as I grabbed one of the empty soul jars.

"Maybe so," I admitted. "But that day is not today. This body is wasted on white collar work. Anyway, you know the drill. Time for lube-- I want you to ride my cock while I sit here." He placed the jar underneath his hardening cock, ready to catch his load.

The first time we fucked in new bodies was always my favorite. Seth came first, coating the inside of the jar with a layer of jizz in addition to Blake's soul. I wasn't too far behind, since Harry's body was new to gay sex and still quite sensitive. I rolled off to the side and basked in the afterglow while Seth sealed the jar and placed it next to Harry's soul.

"Part of me still wants to be mad at you for almost ruining everything with that 'trial period' idea of yours," I said, as he laid down next to me to cuddle. "Next time we need to pick new hosts, we're picking one and done again. None of this trying out multiple bodies rubbish, it's too much risk."

Seth just smiled and ran his fingers through my hair. "Fine, no more shopping around, I promise. But you know you can't stay mad at me." As we laid there, holding each other tight, I had to admit that he was right.

[baby-yongbok]

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

[dsybouquet]

cant stop thinking about art atelier owner! ellie who recently moved the atelier to a bigger and prettier place.

the former flower shop has stood empty for years since the old lady running it has turned too old. when ellie bought the place from her, she saw the sadness behind the woman’s eyes who spent decades of her life in the building and now had to leave it behind. therefore ellie made the promise to keep the place im a good shape.

that being said, ellie stood by her word. couple of months have passed and the atelier is almost finished. she was missing some things here and there, but the time will bring them in - or rather, her local delivery girl will.

it was a cold november day and you regretted showing up at work. since christmas was approaching, the amount of packages was nearly unbearable. you stopped the mail-vehicle and put your head on the steering wheel. “think about the money, ______.”, you reminded yourself before grabbing the letters from the box next to you.

“williams?”, you whispered to yourself, clearly remembering that the shop belonged to a elderly woman named sophie thomson.

looking at your handscanner, you saw that you also had three packages to deliver at the adress.

thinking nothing of it, you got out of the vehicle. the cold air was immediately piercing your fingers and you wrapped your scarf closer around your neck. the side door slid open and you took the four packages all adress to ‘ellie williams - williams’ atelier’

odd, you thought, but you scanned them in and made your way inside. it was completely renovated. the walls, that used to have a flowery wallpaper, are now painted in a dark green tone, that made the atmosphere super mysterious. brown armchairs and a retro looking glass table, that was littered with art magazines, stood next to the entrance. it felt like a lobby.

“hello? im here to deliver a package.”, you called out, placing the packages on the nearby counter.

“coming!”, you heard a woman reply.

rushing from the backdoor was a woman, approximately around the age of 25. her hair was half up in a messy bun, possibly to keep it out of her face. she wore a beat down overall that was covered in paint stains.

“sorry, didn’t hear ya coming in.”, she then said, looking at you with her piercing eyes. for a second you were just staring at her tattoos, her face and her eyes.

“y-yeah don’t worry! i just need a signature for one of these.”, you fumbled on the handscanner. “can i ask your name, so i can type it in?”

“ellie williams.”, she responded, leaning against the counter, eyeing you.

“alright, miss williams, i need you to sign right on the display and then we’re done.”, you smiled, holding the scanner out to her.

she signed with a smile on her face, and placed the packages on the backdoor.

“hey! i have a few more orders coming in in the next weeks. also some furniture. if anything is too heavy just come in and yell. i will make sure to help you.”, she said, walking back to you.

this wasn’t the last time you had to go to the atelier. actually, mrs. williams was ordering a lot. you always wanted to roll your eyes when you’re collages commented how many packages the adress had, but you couldn’t.

after some time passed, she would eventually start to offer you a cup of coffee or some sweets. eventually you would drop calling her mrs. williams and call her ellie or els.

“what are your opening hours between christmas and new year?”, you asked as you placed her packages on the counter and clicked the ‘recipient’ button to confirm the package delivery.

“we’re closed, but just ring the door bell as i will be here sometimes. maybe you can catch me.”, she smiled and grabbed your to go coffee cup to refill it for you - something that she started to do last week.

“______, wait here for a second.”, she then said, turning her back to you and jogging towards the backdoor. “i got you a little something.”

she handed you a dark green, christmas themed giftbag filled with some chocolate and a little canvas. “thank you for your hard work and for carrying my heavy furniture in here”

“thank you, els.”, you smiled.

back in your car, you looked at the little envelope in the bag. there was a card inside, littered with christmas wishes and..

ellies number at the bottom of it. ‘text me if you see this xx’

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Chance

A co-workers, enemies to friends piece for you guys!! Here's the Masterlist for this series!

Warnings: mentions of cheating, rude/snippy remarks, alcohol use

WC: like 3-4k?

If there was anyone that frustrated the living daylights out of you in the office, it was Harry. You swore that God had designed him with the sole purpose of irritating you. You didn’t hate him, you didn’t know him that well. But you didn’t get on well with him; you were just opposites and often times had opposing views or solutions for things. He wasn’t lazy but he distracted everyone all the time because he finished his work quite fast. Like now… 

You bit your lip, trying to hold back from saying something as he and your cubicle neighbor, Adam, laughed loudly about something. It was hard to concentrate on your editing with this racket! Music distracted you instead of help you concentrate, so you didn’t want to put on headphones, you really needed the quiet. After another minute of their commotion you shot up from your seat and went over to the little stool you had against your shared wall with Adam and stepped on so you could peer over the division.

“Can you two shut it, please? I have a last minute thing to do and the deadline’s in an hour!” You implored with a frown on your face and they both glanced over to you, smiling fading.

“Yeah. Sorry, Y/N.”, “Sorry.” They both mumbled before you clambered down and went back to your seat. 

Harry wasn’t a dick, if things got to a point like this, where you had to say something to him, he always apologized. You had no idea why you suddenly developed this dislike towards him, but you just did and you could tell it bothered him. You sighed when you heard two gentle knocks on the frosted glass sliding door of your divider.

“What?” You asked monotonously and when there was no response you rolled your chair over and opened it up, startling Harry who was scribbling on a sticky note now. “What is it, Harry?”

“Nothing, just wanted to apologize again for the noise.” He offered another apology and you just nodded once. “Ummm…so what piece are you editing?” He asked, taking a step closer to you and you sighed.

“Harry, all the time I waste chatting with you about work is time I could spend actually doing my work.” You pointed out and he nodded.

“Right.” He hummed with a tight lipped smile before he took off without another word. You bit your lip nervously, feeling a bit bad over the way you’d dealt with this situation. You’d been rude for no reason and seeing him leaving all defeated like that made you feel like shit.

“That was harsh.” Adam said, peering over the division and you glanced over at him and nodded.

“I know. I’ll make it right later.” You assured him and he smiled and nodded. You got on well with Adam, you wouldn’t say you were close but you were friends, he was the one that bought you the stool to be able to look over the 6 foot division between the two of you. You could have lunch or get drinks after work sometimes and carry conversations, and more importantly, you could hold each other accountable. Whether that was in your personal conversations or with things at work.

“Good.” He said and then went to sit down again. 

With the peace and quiet you were able to finish editing before the hour deadline came and the most stressful part of your day was over. You hated when the did last minute changes or additions to the magazine but it was part of the job. You couldn’t imagine how much more stressful it’d be to work for the newspaper or even for the TV where changes could be made in real time! So you let go of that frustrating part of your morning and then went to lunch. You stopped by the coffee shop around the corner and got Harry an iced, Vanilla Cinnamon latte. It was the office favorite and the perfect peace offering. So you made your way over to Harry’s cubicle with the little note you had scribbled preemptively (you were hoping he was still on lunch because confrontation was hard) but you saw him sitting there just scrolling through his phone. You bit your lip and stuffed the note in your pocket before knocking on the frame of the sliding door.

“Harry?” You said as you knocked and he turned around. When he saw it was you, he straightened up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted you with a half-smile.

“Hey.” You said nervously, “Ummm, s-sorry for being rude to you earlier. I was annoyed and I took it out on you and Adam.” You explained, “Well, mostly on you.” You added.

“That’s alright, last minute additions are a pain.” He said and you nodded, relieved at his understanding.

“Yeah…so I ummm, got you this.” You said extending the drink to him, “It’s the vanilla cinnamon one that everyone seems to love.” You shared and he smiled at you.

“Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to.” He thanked you and you shook your head.

“It’s nothing really.” You assured him, “Just a peace offering.” You said and he nodded.

“Well thanks again.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Sorry again for earlier.” You said before hurrying off to your desk.

It was maybe 20 minutes later when you went to the kitchenette to grab some more water when you saw two of the girls from campaigning sitting at the table in there. The one called Destiny looked giddier than ever as she sipped on a latte, a latte that when she set it down had Harry’s name written in black sharpie. He had regifted your peace offering?! You were livid and felt betrayed! Maybe you had pushed him too far this time and he disliked you now too! You couldn’t help it when you mouth opened to ask her about it.

“H-hey Destiny, did someone do a coffee run?” You asked her and she shook her head and smiled cheerfully.

“No, Harry got it for me over lunch. Said he knew I liked these. He’s so sweet!” She said and you were holding off an eye-twitch.

“Wow, so sweet.” You said and then rushed back out without your water. You started to storm over to his area but then stopped yourself. You didn’t like him and he clearly didn’t like you, which was fine. This was fine and yes, your feelings were hurt, but you’d done the same to him and well, a coffee was nothing compared to hurt feelings so you just trudged back to your desk and sat with a huff.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Adam ask from his cubicle.

“Nothing, just forgot to grab water before coming back.” You said and he hummed.

“I’ll be back…” you mumbled before heading back to the kitchen. You were filling up your water bottle when Harry walked in, humming a familiar little tune.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” He greeted you with pep and you turned to him.

“Harry. Did you enjoy your coffee?”

“I did, thank you! It’s not a favorite for nothing!” He said with a smile and you hummed.

“Well good. It’s a lot of people’s favorite here.” You said and he nodded with a smile, but he sensed the awkwardness emanating from you.

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled again as you held eye contact with him for a few seconds and you just walked out without another word. 

…. A FEW DAYS LATER ….

It had been a few days and you were still upset that Harry had regifted the coffee you’d bought him. And more than that, it irked you that now he thought you were friends. He’d say hello everyone morning and you’d just respond half-heartedly. He knew better than to strike up conversation while you were in the zone, so to him this was just you acting like you always did. And to you, well he was just lying and being fake, which made you like him even less. All of this was affecting you far more than you cared to admit. It really struck you with awe just how easily he had the others fooled! It was around lunch time when you contacted your best friend, Nina, to see if she wanted to meet up for drinks she agreed and now you had something to look forward to for the rest of the work day.

It was 7 on the dot when you walked in to the bar you’d agreed upon. It was a little bit up-scale, so you’d gone home and changed and done up your makeup a little bit more. Thankfully, the bar top had two open spots so you hurried over and set your purse down on the empty stool to reserve it for Nina. It wasn’t odd that Nina was late, after she had her daughter she was constantly running 15-30 minutes behind everyone. It was annoying but you knew that being a mom was also annoying sometimes, it was a full-time thing, 365/24/7. No days off. Around the 32 minute mark you got a text from her stating that the baby had a fever and she couldn’t leave her with her boyfriend, who was also sick. You sighed and then raised your hand to get the bartender.

“Ready?” He asked as he walked over.

“Yeah, just the espresso martini.” You said.

“Got it. Open or closed tab?”

“Just leave it open.” You said and he nodded before taking your card and setting that up. 

You texted Nina back and then just looked around the bar, it was more full now and there were people waiting to sit, so you decided now was a good time to remove your things from the neighboring high chair. And as you gave one more look around the room your eyes landed on none other than Harry Styles. He looked relieved to see you and started making his way over to you. You sighed and turned to face the bar again, but moments later you heard his voice.

“Y/N!” He greeted you.

“Harry.” You mumbled, staring straight ahead.

“Can I…touch you?” He asked and you whipped around quickly, thanking the interior designers that these chairs spun.

“What?!”

“Can I touch you, not in a creepy way! Just, like a hand on your waist or hip?” He asked.

“You may not.” You scoffed.

“Oh my god, please! I ran into my ex outside and she already has another boyfriend! I told her I was seeing someone too because I…felt sad and jealous that she moved on and when he gets here and she gets inside I don’t want to look like a fool.” He explained and you pouted a bit. You knew about about exes that made you feel bad about yourself.

“Fine.” You sighed, “This seat is not gonna be taken anymore so just hop on.” You mumbled and he thanked you as he sat.

“So did you get stood up?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it was by my friend, not a date. Her baby is running a fever.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” 

“Yep.” You hummed and then moments later your drink came and Harry ordered the same. Which then reminded you of why you were so annoyed at him. 

“Hey, I also wanted to ask, maybe this is not the time and place to have this conversation, but do you…have a problem with me?” He asked and you turned to him.

“Not really, I just…don’t mesh with you.” You said simply and he frowned. Everyone meshed with Harry. He was an air sign, he was freewheeling and fun and kind and creative!

“Well, why not?” 

“I don’t know, I just don’t like your manner of doing things. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I mean you’re getting things done and everyone likes the outcome of your work, it’s just the way you go about it. It doesn’t work for me. It’s not personal, Harry.”

“You make it personal though.” He said and you frowned.

“I don’t.”

“You do.” He insisted, “I’ve left it alone because you’re just how you are and everyone tells me that it’s not me, that you’re just…a certain way, but I don’t know you that well so…” he trailed off and you frowned.

“You talk about me to other people?” 

“Sometimes…just to ask if they’ve heard you say anything about me, you know? Not to talk badly of you. But sometimes people come to me about it. I mean, it’s not like they don’t see the difference of how you treat them versus me.” He said and your brows furrowed. You thought your dislike towards him was discrete but everyone knew apparently.

“And everyone thinks I’m…a bitch?” You asked and he bit his lip nervously.

“I’ve never said that to anyone by the way, but people have…used that term from time to time.” He explained and you frowned, “I know we don’t know each other all that well but to me it just seems you’re just…a grump. Not a…well, you know.” He shrugged.

“Hey Harry!” You both heard and spun around to see who you presumed was his ex standing there with a tall man on her arm. She was breathtaking. You weren’t insecure about your looks all that often, but right now you were. You swear you’d seen this woman in some ad on the internet before.

“Hi Eden, nice to see you again.” He smiled.

“Yeah, we ran into each other outside.” She explained, “This is Gerard, my boyfriend.” She introduced him, “He models too.” She said and you and Harry both nodded.

“I’d imagine so!” Harry smiled easily. You were impressed at his composure after he admitted to you that he felt sad and jealous about this minutes before. Your irritation and insecurity would’ve flared far too easily and you would’ve made a fool of yourself. “Nice to meet you, Gerard.” He said extending his hand and shook it. “This is Y/N, my date tonight.” He said and then you felt Eden’s scrutinizing gaze down your face and body.

“Mmmm, kinda cute, I guess.” She said with a hint of snark and your eyes narrowed at her.

“Like those shoes!” You said with a sardonic smile and her mouth dropped open a bit, “We were kind of in the middle of an important conversation, so if you’re done trying to flaunt Gerard to your ex maybe it’s time you go find a seat.” You said and she just groaned and pulled Gerard along. Moments later Harry started laughing and you held back your smile as you turned back towards the bar.

“Oh, that was funny.” He chuckled, “Thanks for that.” He said to you with a smile and you maintained your serious facade.

“S’nothing, she was too condescending. And that poor man, being dragged into her games.”

“Either way, thank you. Standing up to her is not an easy feat.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

“Yeah…she was mean spirited and she cheated on me so-”

“Oh, that’s awful, Harry! I’m sorry.”

“Well at least she’s with him now and it wasn’t some rando.” He said and you shook your head.

“I guess but only an awful person betrays someone like that and it’s not worth you feeling sad or jealous over.” You stated firmly and glanced back at him and he was smiling a bit, “Or well…that’s my opinion about it.” You shrugged, sounding a bit less secure now that he was staring into your eyes.

“Well, thanks for that. I think I minimize it to…not feel so badly about it.” He explained and you hummed and reached for your drink again.

Everything you’d thought of Harry up until this point was the opposite of what he seemed to be. His constant need for socializing had you thinking he had no self awareness, but his priori statement made you realize that he did have it. Maybe you’d just judged him far too harshly for absolutely nothing. And well, no one likes to admit that they’re wrong…but you were wrong about him. But sadly, he wasn’t wrong about you and it made your smile fall.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“It’s nothing.” You assured.

“Hey, tell me. The least I could do is listen after you retrieved my balls from the dragon guarding them.” He chuckled and you smirked, “Sorry for being crass but I mean…that’s what it was.” He said.

“I concluded that I have been wrong about you this whole time but you haven’t been wrong about me and that’s…it’s sad.” You said.

“It’s not like you’re a bad person. You’re just…irritable.” He said with a smile and you sighed.

“I try not to be…and like it’s not like in a condescending way. I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I just…I’ve always had a hard time relating to other people. Like I’m not into the same things as everyone so I can’t join in on conversations a lot and it does upset me. But now everyone things I’m this kill joy and a raging bitch!” You said through a laugh of disbelief.

“I mean…what you did for me the other day? With the coffee?” He asked and then your smile fell again.

“You mean the coffee you regifted to Destiny?” You asked and he sighed. “I saw her with it in the kitchen. She said you bought it for her.” You said with an accusatory tone, “That…hurt my feelings.” You confessed. It felt like you were choking on sand, admitting that to him but it had been something you couldn’t move past.

“Okay, there’s an explanation.” Harry said, “I’m lactose intolerant and when I tried it I realized it wasn’t lactose free and I would get sick if I drank it. I didn’t want to throw it away and risk you seeing it in a garbage can. So I…gave it to the person who sat further away from you and told her a little white lie about it.” He explained and you couldn’t be upset at that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright. I appreciated the gesture though! A lot! I thought maybe that meant we could start to be a little more chummy, you know?”

“I thought so too until I saw you regifted it.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah…I should’ve said something then or asked. But I just assumed you knew. Usually when we group order I’m the only other person who gets a cold brew black-”

“Oh! I’m the other person who orders that!” You said excitedly and he grinned.

“Yeah? I mean, good coffee doesn’t need anything in my opinion. It has a whole flavor profile on its own!”

“Agreed!” You concurred and he smiled.

“See, there’s one thing in common.” He added and you hummed and smiled.

The rest of the evening with Harry was pleasant. After all of the unpleasantness you’d put him though you picked up his tab too and assured him that next time he could get you and well, he was pleased that there’d be a next time.

Harry was glad you two had a breakthrough. He was walking back to his car and was feeling for his keys in his pockets when he realized they weren’t there. He circled back to the bar and no one had turned anything in and they weren’t where you two sat or in the bathroom. So he hurried out to his car and upon peering in with his phone light on he saw them sitting in the cup holder. He groaned as he recalled that he’d seen Eden walking down the sidewalk when he was about to get out of the car.

“Shit…” he mumbled and then dialed your number.

“Hey Harry!” You answered right away as you had just gotten to the intersection.

“Hey, I hate to do this but I locked my keys in my car and my insurance thing is in there too and if I call a random tow they’ll charge me an arm and a leg…”

“Yeah, no worries ummm, I can circle back I’m just down the street.” You assured, “Did you need to stay over as well?” You asked.

“Only if you’re fine with that! If not I could see who’s up and can let me crash!”

“No that’s alright, my couch is very comfy.” You assured him.

“Okay, thank you so much! I parked around the corner on 4th.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” You assured and hung up.

Minutes later he was getting into your car, thanking you profusely for helping him out. He was searching through his emails for his insurance agent’s contact to give him a call in the morning, and thankfully he found it. He explained it wasn’t any of the bigger insurance companies since those were too pricey. So he ran everything by this guy to ensure that things would get covered by his policy if and when he ran into any issues. You fully understood this and chatted about it a bit more until you were at your apartment.

Once you got in you assured him he could borrow some stuff from your ex boyfriend that’d been left behind and got him a spare toothbrush too and he went off to get showered and changed while you made up the couch for him. You waited for him to get out and then headed back out with two pillows.

“Hey, ummm soft or firm?” You asked him.

“Whichever one you don’t use.” He smiled.

“Oh no, I have like 6 pillows, you choose the one you prefer.” You assured.

“Firm, please.”

“Alright, here you are.” You said walking it over to him.

“Y/N, seriously, thank you for tonight. For all of it.” He said softly.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. It’s the least I can do after being a huge bitch to you for nothing.”

“It’s not because you’re trying to make things up to me. It’s because you’re a nice person.” He said and you smiled a bit and glanced away, “Hey, you are.”

“After everything I’ve done to you and how I’ve treated you, you believe that?”

“I do. I also believe in second chances.”

“Hopefully not with cheating exes…” you added with a timid smirk and he grinned.

“Yeah, definitely not.” He said, gaze still locked on yours. You felt this tension rising between you, it was all of the good things mixed with all the past irritations and it was making your brain cloudy. “Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

“How mad would you be if I tried to kiss you right now?” He asked and you couldn’t tell if he was kidding around or being sincere.

“Ummm…I don’t…know.” You got out nervously, “Let’s just get to bed.” You said and he nodded, “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Good night.” He responded and you hurried off to your bedroom. You also washed off your body and got ready for bed and as you finally settled in your phone pinged with a text message.

Harry Styles:

How do I turn off the light?

You smiled and got out of bed and went over to find him already cuddled up on the couch and he glanced over at you.

“Sorry couldn’t find the switch.”

“It’s on this remote.” You said reaching for it on the coffee table.

“Oh, fancy.”

“Right!” You grinned and handed it over. “You can change the settings too if you don’t want it pitch black.” You said and he nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” You said and started walking off before you stopped at the entrance of the hallway. You went back and leaned over him before kissing his cheek gently. His eyes fluttered shut and he smiled for a second before you pulled back. “Sorry.” You whispered.

“That’s alright.” He assured you and you bit your lip nervously before hurrying back down the hall. You closed the door and leaned back on it with a pounding heart and a smile on your face. You were so happy you had given him a chance tonight.

>> NEXT PART >>

[favslarue]

Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth, spanking, office sex.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who often were at your neighborhood, pretending they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment you saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after listening all type of shit from that asshole’s father, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure? - You were confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you rushed to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and being interviewed.

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep (or so you thought).

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you would steal from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I’m sure you don’t remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year… bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully knew every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, haven’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but all that you and your sick mind were thinking about was getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, especially when i’m working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bending you over his desk, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you were intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that was enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the only reason why you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pulled you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him grin, obnoxiously.

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, you didn’t saw it, but he took your underwear that it was on the desk, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to leave without your panties.

You turned around, ready to leave. Not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

310-807-3956

[aek1ra]

Paris | Mark Lee

Pairing boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Mark, gets the offer of a lifetime but it means moving to Paris. Is this the start of a new future in a new city or where a great romance goes to die in the city of love.

Genre: angst, no warnings I think. Giselle and the rest of the æspa members play a small role.

Word count: 2,458

All stories are the property of © aek1ra, please do not copy, repost or translate without my permission. Thank you for your cooperation.

Friday

“I can’t stay here and be single for you, you’re my best friend why can’t you just be happy for me” you whisper shout at her in the middle of the crowded streets of Manhattan. “I am happy for you, I just don’t want you to regret this decision in the future-” she takes a deep breath and continues “look all I’m saying is that you’ve given up a lot for this relationship and this is one more thing he’s asking you to give up. Moving to Paris isn’t your dream y/n you’re chasing after him.” 

You heard her loud and clear, in fact you knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as you hate to admit you had been thinking the same thing for weeks now but how could you let him go. He was the missing puzzle piece, no he was the image you’re left with after the puzzle is completed. You had everything a girl in her mid twenties could ask for, the apartment in your dream city, the expensive shoes, the dream job and the dream boy. or at least you thought. No, you did and besides you’re not giving up your dream you’re simply moving it across an ocean. Yes, they have nice apartments in Paris, expensive shoes and people read magazines everywhere. It would take some time to find a job and some friends but once you got settled things would be the same, right? 

“I heard you, now let's drop this conversation I already quit my job and besides we leave tomorrow” you retort, taking a sip of your coffee hoping the warm beverage will help the lies come out smoother. She doesn’t say anything for a moment in fact you forget she’s even there. 1 beat 2 beats. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to us? You can quit your job, throw away your shoes, hell even your hopes and dreams for some boy, but are we, am I that disposable to you.” pause “Actually you know what never mind, forget I said anything. Have a nice life y/n” 

3 beats, 4 beats. And with that you were left in the silence again except this time she really was gone. 

You walk into your shared apartment anxiously toying with your keys, the previous conversation replaying in your mind. 

“Baby your home, can you help me with the-” he stops mid-sentence seeing the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey what’s wrong? Things didn’t go well with Aeri, I take it?” you nod finally letting the tears you’d been holding all night cascade down your face. Mark is quick to pull into his chest, one arm around your waist pulling you in close, rubbing circles on your back. “She hates me. I don’t know why she can’t see things from my point of view. Everyone but her is happy for us, she’s my best friend and her opinion means the world to me. I mean she was my best friend.” you say in between sobs. 

He continues to listen as you drone on about her not understanding your feelings under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights. 

You were going to tell them, you did plan on saying goodbye but everything happened so fast. Mark had gotten offered the deal of a lifetime last week and asked you to move with him. Although it was sudden you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And with the long list of things you had to get done before the move like; putting the apartment up for sale, handing in your notice at work, packing, passports, visas,  you simply forgot to deliver the good news to your family and friends. 

When you called your parents this morning they expressed their excitement seeing you going on this adventure, truthfully they were just happy you’re happy, they know just how much you and Mark love each other. The other girls, Jimin, Minjeong and Yizhuo were all happy for you even if you knew deep down they had the same reservations as Aeri. She was the only person who didn’t seem to understand, or the only one not cowardly enough to say it out loud. She’ll come around eventually, right? 

After 15 minutes of effectively soaking your boyfriend's t-shirt he breaks the silence “come on” he starts as he cups your face softly in his hands wiping the last of the tears away, “let's get you to bed, we still have a few things to do before our flight tomorrow”. And with that you let him lead you to the bedroom thoughts of your friendship pushed to the back of your mind as the excitement and slight anxiety takes over. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday morning, First day in Paris

Before you knew it you were in Paris, standing in the lobby of the infamous Ritz Carlton. The company had booked a 5 night stay for you both while the deal was being finalised. Mark went off to get your room key while you stood admiring the crystal chandelier hanging above you. It was mesmerising, dazzling, the main star, the sun, the other lights danced around. He was standing at the front desk a few steps away, the lights above him creating a spotlight on him. There he was, your crystal chandelier, your sun and you were his earth quietly, forever orbiting around him. 

“Hey” his voice snaps you out of your haze, “let’s head up stairs yeah” he takes your hand in his, the sound of hurried footsteps and soft giggles are all that's left as you both disappear into the elevator.

Ding!

You come to a stop on the top floor, the Imperial suite. The view up here was stunning. Breathtaking. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, every morning you would be waking up to two of the most beautiful views, the Eiffel tower and your boyfriend. 

Thump. There it was, that feeling again, you had been feeling this pang in your heart, a sort of longing like something was missing. If you were being honest you had been feeling this since your talk with Aeri yesterday, more specifically after she left standing alone outside your apartment. 

The faint sound of a phone ringing pulls you out of your thoughts, you watch your boyfriend talk to someone on the phone, probably his manager. 

 “Right now?”

“No, that's fine I’ll be there. Can you give me 20 minutes? I'll shower and meet you at the studio.” he hangs up the phone making his way towards you. He stands in front of you staring in your eyes, “I’m so sorry I know we said we would spend the day together before I got too busy. But I promise you I’ll be back before 7, we’re still on for dinner right beautiful?” 

Mhm. You hum in response planting a quick peck on his lips “don’t worry about me I’ll go shopping for our date tonight.” 

To be quite honest you were upset it hadn’t even been 24 hours and he was already too busy for you. Who were you kidding, did you really think it would be different, Manhattan to Paris the only change was your address. Maybe he just had no more room in his life for you. No, it sounded urgent, probably something with the contract, a typo or something. You’re a big girl, you can spend the day alone in the hotel room, or better yet go out and buy yourself a new dress for dinner tonight. 

“Besides I think I’ll go out and check out the stores around the area” he gives you one last squeeze before letting go and making his way into the shower. 

Tshhh

The sound of the shower water interrupts the quiet of the room, wishing the water could just wash away all your worries.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday night  

Standing in front of the mirror admiring yourself in the strapless Versace dress you purchased earlier on. The sneaking suspicion that Mark wasn’t going to make it home starts to creep up on you. He was always doing that, making plans with you and cancelling at the last minute, sometimes not even showing up and forgetting to call. You know how important his work is to him and how crazy his schedule can get sometimes. At the start of your relationship he made a point to always let you know if he was going to be late, sending flowers on the days he misses a date. But as time went on the flowers and calls started to slow down eventually coming to a stop. I mean you knew he didn’t mean to, you didn’t need gifts to know that he never meant to forget you, he never meant to keep you waiting. 

The clock finally strikes seven and you’re sitting on the small couch at the end of the hallway, opposite the front door. Dazedly staring at the front door willing it to open, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Seven o’clock becomes eight, eight becomes nine, eventually it's Ten and you tire of waiting around so you decide to head to bed. 

It’s a quarter to Midnight when Mark returns, you spent the past thirty minutes tossing and turning, head full of questions, where could he be, was he alone, was he even thinking about you. He walks into the room, no he stumbles in knocking over a few perfume bottles that were on the dresser. You feign sleep, you're suddenly hit with the smell of alcohol. The bed dips next to you and soon enough you feel this lips on your cheeks, a quick bittersweet lingering kiss. The smell of alcohol is so overpowering you start to get dizzy. You feel a new emotion, not hurt, not disappointment, not hurt, but for the first time ever you were angry at him. While you were worried sick that he could’ve been somewhere out there lost in this foreign country where neither of you speak the language, or worse out dead in a ditch somewhere he was out drinking. Mark could be careless, inattentive, forgetful whatever you want to call it but never was he stupid. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday morning 

The sun rose at 7 this morning, you hadn’t slept at all last night, thoughts of what your future would look like if you decided to live here with him. Mark starts to stir in his sleep, finally waking up. He wraps his  arms around your waist, pulling you towards his chest murmuring a quick  “good morning beautiful”. When you don’t respond he shifts slightly, lifting his head off the bed to get a good look at your face. 

“Baby, hey I’m sorry time just got away from me-” he starts, but you think it's pointless listening to the same speech you’ve heard all these nights before. Mark was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, that is when he’s not too consumed by his work. You see for him everything else would always come second to his love for music, and maybe one day you would be strong enough to handle that truth. 

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot myself” you interrupt him before he can finish, “You have to get going, you’re going to be late for your important meeting.” you say albeit a bit too venomously for your liking, quickly sliding out of the bed and opting to sit by the window. 

“y/n” he starts but decides against it, instead deciding to give you your space. 

At 8:30am you hear the door to your room close signalling Mark has left for the day. You guys barely spoke to each other at breakfast, a silent dance of tension. Every few minutes you’d shoot him a soft smile in an attempt to show him you’re not mad, or in an attempt to lie to yourself. 

You had planned on going to see the cute cafes today while Mark was at his meeting, but after the events of last night you decide to stay in and wallow in self pity. Plus you have to console yourself before the dinner tonight with some music company executive that Mark kept droning on and on about on the flight over. You know this dinner is super important for his deal and no argument between the two will get in the way of that. So you swallow your hurt and anger, and decide to waste your time watching some random French drama. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday night 

At exactly 7pm Mark walks int through the front door. Of course he’s always 

The happy couple, you walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Mark’s manager greets you guys at the door, ushering you both to join the rest of the party inside.

 “Mark, I want you to meet Mr. Devon” his manager announces pushing Mark towards the older gentlemen. 

As he let go of your hand for what felt like the millionth time, your picture perfect dream was starting to crumble all around you. All the painful memories, all the nights he left you waiting around for him, all the times he put his work, friends, colleagues before you, all the broken promises and forgotten dates.. Yes, forgotten, like you had forgotten your friends like they were something to check off a to-do list. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him, not really, no. Mark, he was only chasing after what was important to him, and that wasn’t you, not anymore.

With your head hung low, you quietly make your way to your seat. 

Once Mark is done making the rounds saying his hellos, he takes his seat next to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. And as you stare aimlessly down at your interlocked fingers, you catch a glimpse of the classouses on his hands from hours and hours of strumming his guitar mindlessly while writing lyrics. It then becomes painfully obvious to you, you don’t belong here, at least not with him, not now, it was time for you to let go, let him run as fast and far as he can, chasing after his dreams. Slowly removing your hand from his you plant a soft kiss on his cheek letting your lips linger for a second before you whisper your last words of the night to him  “I love you, I’m sorry for doing this to you tonight but I wish you the best Mark”. You walk out of the restaurant refusing to look back, too afraid that one look into his beautiful tear filled irises would make you crumble on the spot. 

Au revoir mon amour, if the universe wills it surely we’ll meet again. 

(Note: Hi 👋🏽 if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading for first ever fic. I started writing this based on Carrie & Miranda’s argument and then just let the story take me where ever. I’m thinking of maybe giving it a part 2, what do you think?)

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— LIVIN IN YOU

SUMMARY : dean actually loves reading. it should have been obvious what he’d enjoy reading the most. he doesn’t hate all books. he likes fun ones, ones with spice and romance.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), smut, smutty thoughts, fluff, sub!dean, dom!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from a song by radio company. I was doing research on erotic novels for this and Bared to You by Silvia Day was the first book that popped up so I started reading it as research and planned to read only one chapter. It was all I was gonna include but I ended up liking it, and finished it lmaooo X

Dean couldn’t sleep. His bed was too empty, too cold. He moved around trying to find a comfortable position to finally fall asleep in, before he groaned and stared up at the ceiling thinking of what to do to put himself to sleep.

Y/N was out really late with Cas and Jack getting dinner since Cas and Jack went out on a hunt together and succeeded. Dean had just showered and eaten when they came back and Jack was starving so Y/N kissed Dean goodnight and went to take Jack and Cas for a late night dinner.

He chuckled shyly to himself as his brain suggested something. He looked around for his headphones and then searched in his box where he had his porn. Y/N didn’t look inside because she wasn’t interested in it—having him and all that was her reasoning. He hasn’t looked at his porn in years but he still liked collecting it anyway and Y/N didn’t mind that he did.

He finally found what he was looking for at the bottom of the box, beneath the Busty Asian Beauties magazines he had. He was paranoid and embarrassed about the thought of Y/N finding this out. It was a book he hadn’t read when he first got it. He and Cas had gone to the library years back and he was looking for something to teach Cas about sex while Y/N and Sam stayed back at the Bunker, cooking.

Dean led Cas to the erotic novels sections at the bookstore in town and he started to pick random books for him to read, from LGBTQ+ to heterosexual couples, monogamy to polyamory, BDSM, and more. Even Dean learned a few new things and they made him realise how right Rowena was when she said he was “sheltered”.

Dean sat, cross-legged, in the middle of his bed and kept his sheets on his lap to keep him warm. He plugged his headphones into his phone and let Led Zeppelin play quietly as he tried to focus on the words of the book. He was shy about reading it, so he was barely on chapter six of the book titled Bared to You. It was intense and straight to the point while all at once being a slow burn.

The main character, Eva, reminded him a little of Y/N with her wit and stubbornness, while the love interest, Gideon Cross, reminded him of himself if he were rich and more intense.

He wanted to skip straight to the sex scenes, but since it was surprisingly good, he decided against it. Once he’d started reading it—thinking he’d fall asleep quickly a few days ago, he found himself enthralled and captivated page after page as if he hadn’t had much more intense and creative sex with Y/N at least every night and morning.

He enjoyed the book more by imagining it was him and Y/N as Gideon and Eva. It could at least explain the blush that flared up his neck to his ears and cheeks, and the way his cock stiffened and swelled inside his black boxers.

He never touched himself, he just kept reading the fucked up relationship between Eva and Gideon, grateful that—as fucked up as he and Y/N were, they didn’t have something as complicated or toxic as them.

He wasn’t very good at talking about his feelings or his troubles, but he got there eventually as he processed events. Y/N didn’t push, she was just there—waiting for him, and never complained. She trusted him and she was kind, which helped to make her trust him. It was easier since she knew how to handle her own emotions despite how powerfully she felt them. So much about her made him feel safe enough to feel whatever he was feeling without being judged, invalidated, or forced to talk about it.

He didn’t always tell her he loved her in the traditional sense—through words, but he hoped—when he kissed her, when he made love to her, when he cooked for her, when he held her hand, when he smiled at her, and everything else he did—that she knew it was his way of saying it when it was too much to say out loud.

The book wasn’t very long and it was occasionally real to him. He sometimes related to Gideon and Eva, to their trauma, the feeling of being undeserving of love, the fear of vulnerability and intimacy, the inadequate feeling self-hate caused, disgust, and using sex as a coping mechanism. Now, when he had sex, it was because of surges of love and lust from how kind and tender Y/N was with him.

He didn’t feel used or objectified by her, he didn’t feel good about himself only during sex. He felt loved, worshipped, beautiful, and worthy with every press of her lips on his freckled skin, with every movement of her hands on his body, with the adoring words whispered into his mouth, against his skin. He felt it outside of the bedroom when she gazed at him lovingly when he talked about anything at all—and there was a special little glint when he gushed about cowboys. He felt it when he ate and caught her looking at him already with warm and amused eyes, when she cooked and fed him, praising him and complimenting him for looking cute as he ate. He felt it when she listened and kept her eyes on him like he was the only one in the room worth looking at, the way she hung on his every word, and how she was kind to him despite all the hurt she’s felt. She was everything. There wasn’t a single moment he’s spent with her where he hasn’t felt it.

So, even though the story did stress him out sometimes, he liked comparing Gideon and Eva to himself and Y/N. It made him feel proud of their relationship and good about himself because Gideon was really frustrating to him—and yes, Dean was aware how he keeps stuff to himself as well. However, he had never inflicted such anguish on Y/N by doing so, and he can’t keep it inside very long when Y/N makes him open up like a flower when it’s kissed by the sunrise. It’s not forced, he’s not pressured, it's just natural that he does so, bending to her tender will.

He already knew, years ago, when he started to love her. But the moment he actually let it take him over was when he was fresh out of hell, when they stood by his car in the cold, outside that barn where they hid Anna from Uriel and Cas. And he knew he was done for when she looked at him like he was everything, even as she confessed to knowing what he’d done in hell, when he realised that it didn’t alter or affect her feelings for him.

His walls were obliterated as if they were hit by a meteor when she kissed him, when she stole his breath for the first time, when she touched him so tenderly. When he felt her naked skin against his for the first time, and she quietly chanted his name over and over when he claimed her inside the backseat of his car. He was devastated by the gentle caress of her touch, by her soft panting breaths as he teased her, by the taste of her, by the way she tasted him. He felt beautiful—like a star after its death—when he was inside her that night for the first time, when he’d made love to her like he’d never loved anyone else.

He’d always known she was the only person he’d truly love after that Djinn made her his girlfriend in the wish-dream many years ago. When he told her he loved her in that dream-state and as he said them, he thought to himself that those words were only for her, he swore to himself that he’d never say them to anyone.

He’d gotten to chapter thirteen in a breeze and he was still invested in the story. There was so much drama going on between the characters and he was blushing—not just from how hot the sex was, but because he was embarrassed that he actually liked the book.

Just as he got to another sex scene he shuddered when he felt a little draught and he jumped when he looked up and saw Y/N standing with the door open. She looked like she’d been caught, she was frozen and blinked at him with confusion and surprise.

Immediately, he closed the book and turned it onto its back to hide the cover, then removed his headphones. She relaxed and smiled softly at him, “I thought you’d be asleep.” She stepped forward, her eyes filled with love as she reached out for his face. He stared up at her with a deep blush on his face, he was anxious to be discovered by her, but he closed his eyes when her fingertips gently brushed across his cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,” he murmured and opened his eyes, glancing up at her through his thick lashes. Her smile widened slightly and she cupped the side of his jaw, letting him rest his breathtaking face in her soft palm.

“I’m here now,” she whispered. He smiled softly, lifting his hand to hold her wrist and moved it to his mouth so he could kiss her pulse. “Let me get cleaned up, I’ll be right back.” He nodded gently, closing his eyes when she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He leaned into her with a content smile, then offered his lips to her when she pulled away. A single press of her warm mouth on his made his lips tingle, but he let her walk away, and licked his lips as he watched her leave his room. He let himself bask in the aftermath of her tenderness for a few seconds. He just stared at the door she exited from, his eyes drifting away little by little as he bit his lip, deep in thought. Thinking of her—naked, mostly.

Shortly after, he made quick work of hiding his book where it had been and returned his headphones to where they were before as well. He sighed and threw his phone on the wooden bedside table carelessly. He felt a bit of adrenaline at the thought of being discovered and arousal from having been fantasising sexual encounters with Y/N.

Still, he innocently returned to his spot on the bed. He moved beneath the warm sheets of his bed—sitting, and rubbed his eyes when he heard his bedroom door opening again. Y/N was standing there for a while, smiling at the way he rubbed his eyes before she entered. She quietly closed the door behind her and walked towards him, “what were you doing before I interrupted you?”

He stared at the black shirt she wore. It was his Led Zeppelin shirt with a grainy black and white image of a zeppelin and orange coloured words. He smiled at how big it fit her—like a minidress. His adoring, honeydew eyes fell to her bare legs and her blue ankle socks with white clouds, to the grey slippers on her feet.

She climbed onto the bed and he bit his lip, shyly looking at his hands, “listening to music and reading some book about wraiths. It was interesting, so, uh, I couldn’t fall asleep after all,” he lied and she chuckled. She still raised a brow as she inspected his flushed state, and moved the sheets to straddle him, unaware that he was hard. He exhaled shakily when she sat back on his thighs and his hands flexed on her legs as she rested her arms on his shoulders. “How’d it go with Jack and Cas?” He cleared his throat and held her hips, hoping to change the subject even though he only wanted to pull her onto his cock.

“Good,” she murmured, “Jack wanted a burger, milkshake, and some fries.” She smiled down at him, then kissed his lips softly oblivious to the way it only fueled his lust. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed softly. “Cas was just sitting there all stiff, but he relaxed a little when Jack started to ask questions about how all of the food they served was made.” She cupped his face in both of her hands, feeling his ticklish stubble on her palms and the heat of his blush. “You’re warm, are you okay?”

She sounded concerned and she brushed her lips against his forehead to see if he was sick. He only nodded to reassure her he was fine and captured her lips with his in a needy kiss. He brought her hips forward, finally letting her know what was going on down south. She gasped against his mouth at the friction against her clit and he groaned softly at the sound of it, tightening his grip.

“A book on wraiths made you hard?” She teased breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut when he kissed the corner of her mouth. Her heart rate picked up with excitement and her skin started to get warm with the rush of blood through her body.

“Shut up,” he murmured, kissing across her jaw, nibbling gently on her jawline. He trailed his opened mouth down her neck, his tongue sliding against her soft skin, tasting her and breathing in the fruity scent mixed with the aroma of flowers in her soft hair. “I was thinking of you,” he told her, his voice deep and husky, it made her pussy quiver.

“What about me?” She whispered, her fingers buried in his short hair. He slowly moved his hands up her back beneath the shirt she wore and brought his mouth up to her lips, but he didn’t kiss her.

“The first time I was inside your tight, hot, wet little cunt,” he growled, taking a moment to see her reaction.

“Dean,” she gasped, her stomach fluttering with excitement. Pleased with her response, he pressed his lips against hers, passionate and thrilled with a newfound confidence. He pulled the shirt up and off her body quickly. Her hands returned to his hair to tug at the short strands, drawing out little grunts from him that went straight to her clit. He didn’t give her much time to catch her breath, instantly returning to her lips once he removed the shirt, not that she needed air as she robbed him of his own oxygen with the depth and passion of her returned kiss.

He gently prodded at the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened up to him swiftly, a sudden neediness controlling their actions. He could taste chocolate on her tongue when he licked into her mouth, savouring the flavour of the milkshake she must have ordered as his fingers toyed with the hem of her panties. He felt his skin electrify when she moaned at the gentle strokes of his hot tongue.

“I wanna make you come,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled her closer, her breasts squeezed against his broad chest which was covered in a black Henley. The cotton rubbed against her breasts deliciously and made her nipples tighten. He turned her over onto her back with his arms around her waist and he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took.

He looked down at her, seeing her shiver now that she wasn’t warmed by his body heat and took a moment to admire as she laid naked beneath him. His eyes drifted away from her pink cheeks to look at her full breasts, down her slightly concaving stomach, and finally her pink underwear. His hands flexed on her thighs, slowly rising to her hip bones where her underwear was resting.

“Take me,” she whispered, reaching over to lift his shirt up off him as well, “however you want,” she told him quietly. He groaned softly at her words, quickly taking his shirt off to do as she clearly wanted him to. She stared up at him with wide eyes that swallowed him whole like beautiful, hungry black holes.

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured, looking away from her blushing face fro a few seconds just to remove his boxers. Like him, she’d looked away from his face to watch him strip completely, her little tongue dipping out to moisten her dry lips at the sight of his stiff cock. He looked up at the right moment, caught her quite literally salivating at the sight of his dick leaking at the tip. “Wanna taste?”

That was usually her line, when he’d stare at her glistening folds debating on whether to fuck her already or eat her out. Unlike him, she’d say it bashfully. She’d move his attention away from between her legs because she was just like that sometimes. He adored her to pieces with every fibre in his body.

As she crawled over to him, he sat back on his legs, his hands stretched out behind him as his cock bobbed with excitement. His eyes were on her, right where they belonged, watching her lower herself slightly and very teasingly dipped her tongue into his slit, tonguing away his precum. His breath hitched and his hands fisted the sheets, his hips instinctively moving upwards.

“Yummy,” she said playfully, moving up his body. He stared at her with parted lips, panting as his cock ached for attention, but her hands slid up his thighs and stayed there.

“Please,” he moaned impatiently. She blinked at him once, a little smile on her face making her even more irresistible. She shifted slightly, but his eyes were glued on her as she slowly trailed her fingertips up his cock. She became flustered and averted her gaze to his lips, leaning forward just a bit when he became a little too intense to stare at. Dean felt his lips tingle as they brushed against hers, but he let her have control, let her tease him by refusing to just kiss him senseless.

Her touch was teasing, light and slow as she moved her hand up and down at last. Her thumb swiped over the slit, spreading the warm precum that had started to bead out, her mouth watering at the sight. But instead of continuing to tease him, she moved onto his lap, pulled away from his face to guide his cock to her soaked entrance. And just with the sensation of her warmth around the tip, he whined.

The sound made her insides quiver and she cursed under her breath, a little smirk tugging at her lips. His hands clasped her thighs painfully, the tortuous way she slid down the length of him made him roll his hips up impatiently. The breath she took had caught in her chest at how good it felt to be this close to him once again.

Her lips were on his again, at last, swiftly aiding the passion that made her tummy warm, that made his body burn with so much heat he felt like a sun had started to burn inside of him. He loved it. Being loud on purpose. Losing himself in her completely and giving in, letting her take control and please him the way only she knew how to do.

A loud moan slipped past his lips, into her loving mouth when she sat fully on his lap. The way she tightened around him after each sound spurred him on. His hands moved up her sides, grasping tightly at her hips, hoping to mark her skin as he tugged her forward, fervently giving himself pleasure.

“Just wait,” she murmured against his lips, pulling away to push his shoulders until he was lying down on his back. He whined in response, bratty—cutely refusing to stop. His head tipped back, letting his body relax into the bed while he lifted his hips up, his lips parting to vocalise more of his pleasure. “You’re so fucking pretty,” she chuckled breathlessly, staring down at him—utterly enraptured by his impatience and his determination to make himself feel good.

“Need to cum so ba-Fuck!” He screwed his eyes shut when she lifted herself up and roughly slammed back down. She smiled and laughed, slightly amused and then leaned forward to kiss him, his eyes barely starting to open, only to flutter shut again when he got lost in her kiss.

“You’re so fucking desperate, D,” she teased, her lips brushing against his hairline. A whine from him at her words showed her that he liked it and she moaned in response, continuing to ride him as eagerly as he wanted her to.

His eyes were fixated on hers, heavy with lust, pupils dilated with both love and desire. The way she lifted herself with such agility tore more sounds of pleasure from his throat, deep and rumbling groans that came from within his chest and made her smirk smugly at him. It was so hot, it drew so much arousal from her that lifting herself up and down was embarrassingly smooth, the squelching sound of her pussy being filled by his cock echoed around his room and made his moans get louder.

His grip on her hips tightened, blunt nails digging into her flesh, his back arching from how rough she was fucking him, giving him so much pleasure he thought he’d explode. “Fuck, baby, ‘m so close,” he moaned. His mind was hazy, his skin burning hot and sensitive so that even the way she dug her nails into his chest added to his pleasure. He loved being on the bottom, more than he’d like to admit.

“I could cum just listening to you, Dean,” she panted, leaning over him slightly, one of her hands clutching the pillow his head rested on. She changed the angle of her hips, her clit rubbing against his pelvis, her other hand slid up his chest, wrapping around his throat and squeezing gently.

“Shit,” he gasped, his hips bucking upwards.

“You’re so kinky,” she chuckled, “how about you just cum already, D?” She clenched around him, a gasp slipping past his lips. He shook his head, his teeth digging into his plump bottom lip to hold back another moan, his stomach tightening as he tried holding back his orgasm. “Fine,” she chuckled, grinding down on him to stimulate her clit until he was whining, bringing herself closer to the edge as he squirmed beneath her.

“Oh… fuck,” he moaned loudly, his orgasm washing over him before he could even stop it. An arousing look contorted his face as he came, quick curses and whispers of her name puffing past his parted lips that left his mouth and lips dry, making him look so beautiful.

“That’s right, D,” she chuckled, biting her lip to muffle a moan when she felt the warmth of his cum inside her. She started to lift herself up and down again, hard and fast until she reached her own orgasm, her velvety walls squeezing him tightly, and he took it despite how sensitive he was starting to get.

He let her finish, his fingers bruising the flesh of her hips until she stopped shuddering completely. Her entire body turned to jelly, a little smile growing on her lips, gazing at each other in the slight darkness of his room. Only one lamp allowed him to see the state she was in, flushed and a little sweaty like him.

Her gentle eyes swept over his face, watching neutrally as he sat up tiredly, a languid smile on his face when their breaths became normal again, “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured hoarsely, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her cheek. She relaxed in his arms, placing a little kiss on his lips before resting her cheek on his shoulders.

“Y’know I don’t believe you, right?” She mumbled against his shoulder, smirking when his hands stilled on her back. He recovered quickly, his hands continuing to venture up and down her spine, ignoring the feeling of their cum oozing out of her.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled deeply, “I didn’t plan on us having sex tonight.” He knew he sounded unconvincing, but mostly he knew that she wasn’t talking about that at all.

“What were you reading?” She asked, pulling away to analyse him. He swallowed nervously, licking his dry lips as he thought about what to say, but he still felt dazed from his orgasm that no lie to get himself out of the situation came to his mind to rescue him. “Tell me, if it gets you this worked up, I might have to give it a read,” she teased, lifting herself off him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, smacking her ass when he saw she was purposely lifting herself up slowly. She plopped down next to him, rubbing her thighs together as her pussy continued to throb with. He bit his lip gently and admired her, dragging his hand up her soft and warm thighs to reach between her legs where she was completely soaked. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” he chuckled, gently massaging her sensitive clit.

“That’s okay because I already know,” she whispered, moving his hand away from between her legs so she could return to his lap. His lips parted, a look of confusion and embarrassment turned his face red, his lips parting with no words being formed. “I clean your room, D, it’s not just magically without dust all the time.. Plus I’m curious about your porn, okay? Some of those ladies are crazy fine,” she chuckled, kissing him passionately.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a dirty look that made her laugh. “I’m going to throw them out if you say that again,” he pouted, his fingers mindlessly caressing her thighs.

“Don’t be jealous of them, you know you're my only girl, Dean,” she teased, burying her fingers into his hair and tugging him forward to give him one of the best kisses of his life. He moaned softly, his hands flexing on her thighs, instinctively bringing her closer so her body was pressed against his. He whined against her mouth, pouting at again. Her teeth dug into his plump lower lip, seductively pulling it before she let it go and smiled down at him.

She snickered when she saw the confused look on his face. “I don’t even know what that means,” he mumbled cutely, tracing a few freckles on her legs. She sighed dramatically and grinned at him, getting up to clean herself with a random hand towel he had in his drawer.

He watched her naked body move itself away from him with another pout on his face, waiting for her to look back at him. She did eventually, smirking and shaking her head. He blushed, becoming a little shy, he turned over onto his side to watch her but also to stop himself from doing things to get her attention.

She turned the water on in the sink and leaned against it to clean herself up, letting him see his work. He held his breath, heat spreading over his face like a fire in the forest, his hands clutching his pillow. His eyes were fixated on her every movement, inspecting the way she spread her folds open to clean herself thoroughly despite the sleepiness that made his eyes heavy.

“Enjoying the show?” She smirked, glancing up at him. His eyes snapped up to her face and he shrugged with a little laugh.

“Always.” She stood normally and walked towards him again, into his soft bed until she was right next to him. The towel was slightly wet, and she folded it to use a clean part on him, carefully taking his soft cock to clean him. He hissed quietly, watching her face at first, and then watching how gentle she was with her hands, reaching down to his balls to clean where their cum and her arousal had dripped down. “Round two?” He whimpered and she smirked, pulling her hands away from his dick.

“As horny as I still am, you need to sleep, baby.” Her shoulders shook with silent laughter and he nodded, a lazy smile growing on his lips. He loved this. She moved out of bed to place the dirty towel somewhere to remind herself to wash it tomorrow, and then to wash her hands before she made her way to his drawers to pick a clean pair of boxers for him and clean panties for herself.

She slipped the Led Zeppelin shirt on again and handed him the Henley he’d been wearing, but he childishly put it on the nightstand, “no, I want easy access in the morning,” he whined, stopping her from taking his boxers to him. She laughed softly, then returned their underwear to the drawer neatly.

“Does that mean I’m the little spoon tonight?” She asked, amused, taking his shirt to fold it neatly and placed it back in place. He nodded, fixing the blanket so she could join him beneath them. “Okay, pretty boy,” she murmured, smiling as she made her way to him beneath the sheets, kissing him softly and mumbling goodnight against his lips before turning around. His arm slung over her waist, a happy smile growing on his lips, snuggling closer to her warm body as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

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[mcverse]

Hey don’t know if your doing KNB anymore but-

Could you do HC’s on all the boys playing with readers hair? Like reader is having troubles sleeping or something and the boys just play with their hair?

✧ Type: HC

✧ Warnings: Hurt to comfort sorta, fluff everywhere, maybe ooc but it’s love man, slight crackhead energy if your squint, curses, not proof read/spelled checked

✧ Side Bar: You said or something so I did something ✨ joke aside I had so much fun with this if you can’t tell. Thanks for the req! this is actually safe for someone 17+ despite the warning for the rest of the blog

Credit: atamanrr on tt

— Akashi

College finals are coming around fast. And you were stressing out.

You weren’t like your brilliant boyfriend, who always guarantee he’ll come out on top every time.

You procrastinate, you mess up, and you forgot. The polar opposite of your King, it still puzzles you to this day why he wants you.

But disregarding all that, you still tried to study to make up for it and it helped a bit that he offered his aid. What a sweet man ugh.

Sort of. Not really.

While he looks completely in his element as he practice quiz himself, GETTING EVER ANSWER CORRECT, you were over it as you sat across from him.

Your lips were borderline bruised as you abused it throughout the session, running your fingers frustratingly through your hair as you feel stumped over a word problem.

Akashi notices, of course he does. He’s an observant person and an attentive boyfriend. It was clear that you needed a break but he knew how stubborn you could be.

So he sets his pen down, getting up to come around to where you are—all of which you don’t notice until he’s pulling you up and dragging you towards the crouch.

“Seijuro?” You question him when he casually drops on the cushions with a deep sigh, dragging you with him. He doesn’t say anything as he wraps his arms around your lower back and use his free hand to rake his fingers through your hair, albeit much less aggressive than you had, “Sei.” You try again, this time getting a reply.

“You need a break.” He says, never ceasing his movements. If anything he pulls you closer, so your flush against his body, your head on his chest, “No buts. It’ll still be there when you get back.” He adds when he sees you about to protest.

You hate when he’s right. Always at the worst times too. More than he’ll ever know, especially when he gets what he was aiming for easily. Your supposed to be independent.

Instead his stupid warmth was pulling you in, the light scraping of his nails that occasionally graze your scalp slowly putting you into a small trance.

You mumble a quick, barely audible, “Thank you,” as you drift into your first nap of the day. It’s a good thing when you miss the curve of his lips as he glance down at your peaceful expression, otherwise you’ll try and tease him endlessly.

“Anything for you, my empress/prince.”

— Aomine

This was hard for him. No it wasn’t because he can’t show affection. Aomine is actually very affection to his lady, maybe too much that it’s borderline manhandling. You don’t complain.

It’s hard for him because he really hates to see you beat yourself up, comparing yourself in the mirror to his magazines.

Sometimes he wish he never kept them, not liking how insecure you got. He knows they can’t compare to you and you know it too… you just can’t help yourself most days.

He feels guilty each time you tell him that it was okay to keep things like that since you were real and they weren’t. He didn’t deserve such understanding after causing your tears indirectly.

And so every time, Aomine waste zero time in wrapping his arms around you, crowding you so your face was buried in his chest.

“I know,” you whine, eyes wet with weightless tears and nose beginning to drip, but it was the least of both your worries, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. They’re so pretty!” you squeeze around his waist, the very same you can barely reach around.

Aomine listens. He listens and watches every choke cry, every fragile wail, every doe and tearful eyed glance up at his face.

He didn’t bother to explain again that it wasn’t about them being pretty because he knew it would make it worst. He was smart enough to realize that.

It didn’t break his heart any less though. He’s not sure how many more these sessions he can take without getting rid of the whole stash.

Because nothing was really worth seeing you like this.

Aomine sighs through his nose, pushing your head back against his chest after you glance up at him one more time, running his fingers through your hair to smooth you; a method that always worked. He was anxious, despite his calming demeanor—you can hear it in his heart.

The same beat that lore you to close your eyes, clinging on to the man that brings up such insecurities unintentionally. When your shoulders slump, he picks up with your head now rested on his shoulder. He still doesn’t stop his movements in your hair as he takes you to the shared bedroom.

“It’s alright, baby,” he’ll mumble as he lays beside you with his arm under your head for support. His hands still wringing themselves in your hair, but occasionally drift to your caress your cheek as he watches you sleep, “I won’t make you feel like this again.”

He kept true to his word. Threw the whole stash away after waking up from the nap.

As much as he cared for those magazines, he cares about you more. He’d be damned if he let a fake thing mess up a good one.

— Kagami

You have been dating Kagami for a while, almost a year. So it was safe to say he has seen you in all the craziest states you can conjure up.

To name a few: days where you’re too lazy to wear makeup (makeup is genderless) , a few random hormonal pimples, fresh out the shower with your hair sticking to your head like the ring antagonist.

He’s seen it all.

He’s also dealt with your mini tantrums or mood changes that sometime went along with them. That’s what a partner is supposed to do. Take the good and the ugly, not one or the other.

This time was no different, you were getting ready to go out to the shopping center but ever since you woke up, your hair has not been cooperative.

This only led Kagami to assume you were frustrated, especially based on the loud huffs and weird growls you’ve been letting out.

He could hear your down the hall as he’s making a sandwich, cursing as you wrestle with your hair. It’s when you let out a loud ‘“Fucking stupid ass hair be submissive” did he enter your room.

“Babe, are you almost done?” He asks, even though he can see you aren’t, which earns a glare briefly sent his way before you focus back on your hair.

“Do I look done, babe?” You mock back.

There’s the attitude he loves.

Kagami didn’t get it. This was probably the most tame your hair has every looked but your fussing over one off section.

If anything… He’s putting down his sandwich and dusting his hands off with purpose.

“What are you doing?” You shout, watching a he stalks up behind you to rack his fingers through your hair. On a normal day this would be soothing, but he wasn’t doing it to help.

“Taiga, this looks fucking worst!” You whine, slapping his hand away as you stare, mouth agape at the mess he help create.

He simply grins, “I like it.”

“Please tell me that was the clean hand…”

He thinks you look hotter with messy hair. His favorite time of the day was morning because he got to see you first thing, hair wildly misplaced.

— Kise

It was supposed to be a leisure day. A simple day where you can stay inside to finally finish this new Netflix show called “sanctuary”, while not be judged for eating half a cake. Alone.

But then your fantasy is disrupted because your reminded your boyfriend was Kise, and he was never not clingy.

He shows up unannounced, as he always does with his “I miss you so much baby” type shit.

You were a little annoyed, just a little. Your day was all planned out, so it’s to be expected. Just as it was expected to know it won’t go that way due to Kise.

Reluctantly, you let him in because he was a little too upbeat and bright, compared to the darkness and coolness that your apartment gave.

There wasn’t really a different with Kise being there.

Except no personal space and him eating more of your cake then you, which might be a shocker but Kise only ever let’s loose with you.

You were his safe space, and he liked to return the favor, regardless of how little.

Kise was sitting up right on the sofa, while you were laying your head on Kise lap, both of you equally engrossed in the show, and still semi hungry after the cake was gone but too lazy to get up for something else.

You got startled when he subconsciously starts petting your head. Did he think your were a pet or something? But your thoughts were eased away when his petting turns into wringing his fingers through your hair, scratching pleasantly at your scalp from time to time.

There were moments he’ll twirl it around his finger like a little school girl being nervous around her crush. You thought it was really cute, so you had to voice it.

“You’re so cute, Ryo.” you blurt randomly. He still his movements, blinking before looking down at your with flushed cheeks,

“I didn’t do anything.” he says, resuming his movements.

“Even when you’re not doing anything, you’re crazy cute.”

“[Name] -cchi!”

— Kuroko

It was fall, how beautiful the colors change. It was a perfect temperature—in Japan. America was a whole different story, let’s not get into that though.

Anyway, it’s date night with Kuroko. Every Friday, like clockwork, unless something came up. Thankfully, it didn’t!

You both just got done eating at this new place you saw and of course, Kuroko had no complaints but didn’t finish his food.

Luckily, you guys got to take it to go without any extra charge. Now your both just casual strolling down the streets, hand and hand.

But then Kuroko was pulling you in a random direction, that you soon found out was a park.

“Testu?” you call to him, peering at him curiously. He only looks back at your for a second, and the warmth from his eyes was enough for you not to question any further.

He’s a really sweet boyfriend, ugh.

At some point during the walk, you saw a pretty tree that still somehow has a lot of leave on it and the colors were too gorgeous to pass up a photo.

Instead of taking a photo of just the tree, you told Kuroko to take a picture of you with it.

So there you were standing under the tree, posing awkwardly as people walk by and wait for your boyfriend to take the picture.

But he takes forever. He has the phone up, the app’s open but he just pauses as your pouting.

“Testu! Take the picture,” you whine, body going tense as you struggle to hold the pose. When it looks like he’s going to take the photo, he lowers the phone and walks over to you. That only confuses you more, “What are you doing?”

He’s reaching up to your face as you stare at him skeptically, but he skips your face and goes right to your hair, where he runs his finger through it, “You have something in your hair. It’ll ruin the photo.”

How considerate is he? A+++

You thank him, obviously, when he gets it out. And you thought that’s was the end of it, that he’ll finally take your picture.

No, Kuroko is still wringing his hand through your hair.

He’s smiling softly to himself, completely forgetting about the task at hand. It takes you clearing your throat to bring him back to earth. Even then, his hand doesn’t leave your hair. He just waits patiently for you to speak.

“The photo, Tetsuya?” you remind him, with a tilt of your head.

His mouth forms a “o” and he finally removes his hand, “Sorry. Your hairs really soft today.” He then walks back to where he was before, pointing the phone at you as if what he said didn’t make you red in the face.

— Murasakibara

The clock read 2 am when your staring up at the ceiling.

You were exhausted but your mind refused to let your rest.

The lie would be a big one if you said you didn’t know why. Despite your good day with nothing eventual happening, your brain found ways to nitpick always.

It was 2:54 when you decided you’ll have a late night snack, maybe watch some tv to lull you to sleep.

But it was 20 minutes later when your walking into the living room to see Murasakibara already on the couch and not in the bedroom where you left him.

Murasakibara isn’t a light sleeper, but he knows when something’s different despite being sleep. When he doesn’t feel you hugging his side, he lazily gets up to find you.

He finds you in the kitchen, making yourself a half pb&j sandwich. He immediately knows it’s one of those nights where you can’t sleep just from that.

Instead of letting his presence known, he goes to the couch and waits for you, already knowing if he did bother you that you’ll try and get him back to bed and leave again.

It’s almost comical seeing his big frame spread across a couch just a few inches too short for him.

“Atsu, you should be in bed.” You remind him, walking over to him. He looks up at your drowsily, a pout already playing at his lips.

“Hope you got enough for me too.” He ignores your statement, opening up the blanket you originally got to get comfy on the couch alone, “I’m hungry.”

You get confused at whether he was actually referring to food or you, after all, this situation happens often and the outcomes are unpredictable since it’s him.

Murasakibara sees your hesitation and grows impatient, instead reaching out to pull you to him and force you in the blanket himself.

“The food, Atsu!” Your protests fell on death ears, with you trying to keep it from getting trapped within the covers.

He opens his mouth and pulling you closer to him. One of his hands pushes your head to his chest and now he’s running his fingers through your hair as if to shush you from saying more, “Feed me.”

Your trying to pull away, but don’t prevail, “There isn’t enough for you, you giant!”

“Then I’ll just have to eat you.”

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[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ It's The Most Wonderful Time-out! ♡

A/N: is this late? 100% but it's time for some CHRISTMAS HYBRID TIMEEEEE!!! A HUGE thank you for the patience from my amazing sunshine anon for this commission <3 Personally I think the title is hilarious, do- do you get it- the most wonderful time of the year- plz laugh-

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, puppy's first Christmas! Grumpy ol' man Vendetta Leon, Leon is referred to as daddy! Reader in time-out, visiting the hybrid park, angst and fluff, mentions and descriptions of gore, all gets resolved in the end!

Word count: 7,430 approx.

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December 23rd

Time out. Oof, those words. They were enough to take the swing right out of your tail. 

This definitely wasn’t your fault. On the scale of 1-10 you’re like, a -5 when it comes to being in trouble. Totally. It wasn’t your fault it had rained, or your fault you wanted to jump in the the new layer of snow and got all wet and muddy, the only part that might have potentially, potentially been on you was tracking said mud and sleet through the living room. The living room rug to be exact. The rather expensive, difficult to clean because daddy sometimes ‘truly can’t be fu- bothered’ rug. That was the one rule; he could deal with mess on the floorboards, the tiles, but not the carpet. The stains were just too hard to get out.

Leon could handle dirt and grime absolutely, he’d take it over guts and gore any day of the week, public holidays and Christmas included. But coming home from work after a long day, hands stinking of gunpowder and grease, only to find muddy streaks and pawprints all over the rug was his last straw. The coffee machine in the office had been broken, his magazine clip had taken three different attempts to click into place despite the million times he’d done it before, and the armoury’s practice range had been down for maintenance. This was just the gasoline flavoured icing on his flambe flaming shit excuse for cake. 

Woosh. Fire. 

So, there you were. Plopped back into your pen, favourite squeaky toy just out of reach sat beside Leon’s chair as he scrolled through whatever’s on his phone. Teddy was right there, all worn out fluff and stringy neck ribbon, you were being taunted! This was torture, punishment of 

the worst degree. The only thing that would make it even more awful was going to bed without a kiss goodnight. But even Leon wasn’t that cruel.

Don’t get it twisted, he was feeling guilty about this too. The face you made when he walked through the door told him plenty. Big, round eyes, head bowed and tail anxiously thumping. You knew you’d gotten carried away. But you also knew better. And it’d been so long since he actually disciplined you. This was long overdue, half chewed toys left sopping wet in the bath after tub time, weeks of chased squirrels and rabbits, staying up way past your set bedtime. This was what really sealed the deal though. So, you do the time, you do the crime.

Even now he could feel your eyes boring into the back of his head, like two teary, glossy lasers set to melt his old hardened heart. Every half-hearted thump of your fluffy tail, every scuttle of your nails against the floorboards as you got comfortable, every tiny whimper you seemed hesitant to let out. Not to mention your poor attempts at being ‘completely and totally cool’ with your timeout since he often caught you staring up at him through the bars, eyes following each swipe of his fingers over his phone screen. And when he craned his neck to check on you, you were swiftly looking in the opposite direction, swearing you weren’t just tracking each of his movements. How couldn’t you though? You were obsessed with your owner, Leon was your daddy at the end of the day no matter how many play pens or crates he had to put you in so you’d behave.

 His poor princess. You were killing him, really. He’d survived well over 15 years of bioterrorism just to die at the hands of his pup-hybrid’s big wet pathetic gaze. Could flood a village with the amount of tears you shed a week, but he loves you and that tender heart of yours.

The real question was how much longer could either of you take? Leon knew it was a ‘you do the crime, you do the time’ type of deal, but was this truly teaching you anything other than how to master your pouty bottom lip? You’re his favourite fluffball, fuzzed up and huffy, chuffing and rolling over onto your back like you’re ready to play dead if it gets you out. 

And honestly? He was caving. He was only a man after all.

You’d softened him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Three years ago he’d have scoffed at the thought of even owning a hybrid, let alone being this attached. But now you were glued to his side. Now he just felt like an old man, worn and tired, your sunshiney attitude and warmth had thawed through him like no heater had. He’d been frostbitten before meeting you, whether he’d known it or not.

He couldn’t bear it. Yeah, time was up.

So his heavy footsteps muffled through socks padded across the floorboards to you, although you tried to act like you didn’t care (and failed miserably). It was pretty obvious how much this mattered to you, because your tail was whipping something fierce, so hard it had your hips wiggling. 

“C’mon, darlin’. Think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Those big eyes pierced his very being and soul as you gazed up at him from behind your lashes, ears all floppy and face streaked with past tear tracks. God, you’d been crying over this too? Might as well just rip his heart from his chest and stomp on it. 

Even as he turned around and sat back down on the couch, looking over to you expectantly, you seemed to hesitate at first. Glancing at the spot where the rug had once sat in the centre of the living room, right in front of the coffee table, with guilty furrowed brows. Then it was back to looking at Leon, back to melting him with those heartbreaking watery eyes.

“Oh, my sweet puppy.” He couldn’t help but croon as you made guilty little steps over to him, every tap of your feet filled with shame, tail swaying with embarrassment. You were a walking heap of emotions, and he was ready to scoop you up and put you back together. “Here she comes, there we go. Tough day for our girl.”

You’d missed it, oh how you’d missed it. At your heart you truly were just a puppy, in need of the loving praise and sweet words that only he could provide. You weren’t the mushiest pup in the litter, but there was nothing like a good hug from your daddy. That much was clear from the way you melted into Leon’s body as soon as you were sat in his lap, your tail thumping delightfully against his knees while you burrowed into him. Paws kneading his shirt so you nestled into him just right.

“I know it was rough, honey. M’ sorry. But sometimes daddy has to discipline you, y’know?” the thick pad of his thumb encased your chin just enough to tilt your gaze upwards, his hand sliding over the curve of your face so he could wipe your tears away. “And it hurt, didn’t it?” “Yeah..” “So next time you think about stepping on the rug with muddy feet, you’ll remember how much we both hated this, and you won’t do it, isn’t that right?” “,,Yeah.”

“That’s right, baby. My poor girl.” That last statement came out as a small sigh, rubbing the soft fuzz of your floppy ears tenderly between his fingers. Even now as he gave you a talking down your tail never stopped thumping against his leg. 

No matter what, you loved him. That must’ve been why they called it puppy love. And it made his heart ache something fierce. You were too good.

Leon felt like the worst daddy in the world sometimes, he wasn’t gonna even try to lie about that. Sometimes he scratched behind your ears too hard, or you didn’t understand one of his jokes and ended up getting pouty and upset, sometimes he didn’t throw the ball right or pick out the right snacks. But all of that was nothing compared to the biggest issue.

His intoxicated escapades were at the very top of that list. 

Raids of the fridge and mumbling to himself, slumping his jacket off only to pass out on the edge of his bed. Leon knew you didn’t like when he got drunk, it was probably what hurt him the most about all of it. Not the gunshots echoing through his skull when his shot glass hit the table, or the recoil of a pistol wracking his shoulder when he ran into a wall too hard. 

No, it was the look on your face.

How you seemed to curl yourself back into your pen, watching with a lowered head and a hesitant gaze, tail somewhat tucked. The foggy memory of the face you pulled when he was too rough petting you or spoke too loud while sloshed. That’s what ached, what truly stung like a bitch. 

He was supposed to be the one protecting you, caring for you, and because of his own problems now you’d seen a side of him he never wanted you to. He’d made your hands awaken to the crack of eggshells beneath them when you stepped towards him, you were familiar with the shell’s powdering like that of bullet sulfur, and inner yolk gold as the streaks in his hair back then. Knew of the blood that sometimes hung in the middle of it all, and in the worst scenario the curling of bones left over. 

But still at the end of the night, drifting between a muddled haze of asleep and awake, he’d hear you make your way slowly towards his bed, the mattress dipping when you climbed up and curled up at the bottom of the duvet. Because, despite it all, you wanted to be close to him.

 Because, despite it all, he was your person. So he dumped what he could of the remaining bottles, stashed a few shitty cans for safe keeping in case things got too hard, and stopped being a regular at Jerry’s bar. 

He was doing it for you, maybe only for you.

Now he had you sat in his lap, buried in his shoulder and curling in as small as possible. Trying to become one with the skin of his arms and fabric of his shirt. You wanted to crawl up under his jacket and be carried as one with Leon, you’d do it if you could. 

He had to do something.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” Oh, that voice. Despite the icy weather outside, despite the cold that hung in his chest from time to time, his tone always tried to be warm with you. Soft. like those mutts learning to gentle their snarls and unclench their teeth, to stop growling. He was so used to the sneering, the sarcasm, snapping when someone got too close or said the wrong thing to him. But you were so fluffy, so fuzzy to the world, so unaware and loving. So he had to wear a muzzle, and he learned how to adjust.

Why? Because he couldn’t be a violent dog if he had his very own puppy. “I dunno..”

A lopsided smile spread across his cheeks at the look on your face, chin tilted and tail squirming as you look to him. There’s still the matter of that guilt still hanging in your face, stray strands like an unruly mop of hair.

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna squeeze ya.” While you were still processing Leon’s comforting words and the lull of his voice, he was quick to gather you in his arms and press you tight to his chest. Immediately you were bathed in the scent of his shirt, the natural smell and comfort of his body. A warm blanket of safety had been draped over your blankets in the form of his presence. He squeezed your body nice and close until you squeaked out a yapped laugh, the fluff of your ear squished against his stubbled cheek.

“Oooo, good squeeze. Get all those nasty feelings outta you.”

“Daddyyyy, you’re smooshing me!” These were the moments he really cherished, ones where your tail swung and you squirmed in his arms with that smile of yours.

“Awww, well that’s how you know that it’s a real good squeeze,” His voice waved every time he swayed you slightly from side to side, bringing bubbly giggles from your throat that drifted up into the air and popped right at his heart. “It’s like juicin’ an orange, gotta shake and twist you till you’re all better.” “I don’t wanna be juice!” You howled out playfully, throwing your head back like the dramatic little thing that you were.

“Oh you don’t huh? Then you gotta keep smiling for me baby, it's just that simple.” He pushed his cheek up against your own. God, how he loved that smile, the sound of your tail thumping across the fluff of the sleek couch. There you sat, cute as a button, curled up atop his legs and snuggled in close like the sweetest, softest stuffed animal. “Tell you what, we get you one last snack, and then we’ll tuck you in, and tomorrow we’ll go into town. Catch everything before it all closes up.” 

You were already half asleep in his arms by the time he’d finished talking.

December 24th

Planning the day out was the easy part, executing it was hard. Not only because Christmas was right around the corner which came with its own chaos, but because you were- well, you. Overly loving, over committed, overly loyal and lovely you. Leon swore you must’ve been the cutest looking leech or tick in a past life.

You insisted on putting together an outfit that yes consisted of your favourite bows and daddy’s most comfiest shirt that smelled like him. But even his ‘I’ve worn the same blue shirt for 3 years’ ass could tell when things didn’t coordinate together. So he did the gentlemanly and not-wanting-you-to-look-like-a-disaster-oustide-ly thing and helped you into some cute fleecy stockings, complete with a soft sweater and your favourite skirt. Gloves of some sort were a must, you had a thing for pawing at whatever you could get your hands on no matter how cold it was, and you were in your fuzziest boots. Adorable. Like a Christmasy puffball, a fluffy ornament. All you needed was a pair of angel wings and a halo and you’d be ready for the top of the tree. 

“Look at her, look at that posture and stance. Look at that trot. That’s a well trained leash dog right there.” A smirk tugged at Leon’s lips as he watched you pad in step with him, the lacy trim of your skirt swaying whenever your foot met the sidewalk. This was the very same puppy who sat staring at him from her crate with the most pitiful eyes yesterday, rolling over onto your back like you might die from lack of attention. And now you were practically skipping, a bounce to your tail with every step.

You were lucky enough to live in a small enough part of the city. Not too urban, but definitely not rural. An outskirt area that was a nice walk away from the nearest hybrid park, long enough to get you warmed up for the real fun. And even after Leon had you off the leash you were staying in step with him, glued to his side with the sweetest smile on your face. In fact it took a little coaxing and the presence of some other pups for you to finally run around.

Leon knew you could be sociable when you truly wanted to be, but even for such a smiley little thing sometimes you simply preferred his company to anyone else’s. You could be skittish, a bit shy, and it truly threw him off guard when that part of you poked its head out from behind the warm rays of sunlight that radiated from your very being. It was adorable, really. Watching you curl into his leg with a slightly swishing tail of fluff, giving a small wave only to burrow into him. But today you were doing well, today you chose to shake out your jitters. And yes, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud of you.

No matter how many times Leon brought you out here, letting you experience the wonders of a normal domestic life, it never stopped being nothing short of magical to watch you shine. You had this magnetic aura that always seemed to follow you around, people were drawn to you and that sunbeam that clung to the smile on your face. The warmth that you spread to those around you. 

You truly were his sunshine.

“Leon?”

A voice he hadn’t heard in a few weeks thanks to his time off work caught his attention, and sure enough as he looked over his shoulder there stood Ingrid Hunnigan. Bundled up in a long overcoat with a recyclable cup in her hands, steam wafting from the lid in smooth swirls through the crisp cold air. Already her glasses seemed to be fogging up again, despite so clearly being cleaned only recently. Yeah, he didn’t realise how lucky he was to have decent vision despite all the bullshit he’d been through. Glasses on top of the trauma and broken bones might’ve done him in.

“Hunnigan? The hell are you doing out here?” It wasn’t defensive or aggressive, moreso confused. Intrigued, interested. It wasn’t often he actually saw her out and about. A little silly in all honesty for him to think that, Ingrid always had some sort of plans around Christmastime. Her holiday decorations, complete with lights and glowing reindeer atop a tiled roof, were nothing to scoff at.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the snow in person, I figured I’d go for a walk to get a feel for it.” She shrugged, hands tucked into her pockets. 

He was listening, or at least some part of him was. The other part was blurring through his peripheral vision to make out the blob of colour and wagging tail that was you balling up snow as you ducked behind a tree, playing with one of the other hybrids. If you asked anyone in his line of work, they’d say Leon is a hardass. He’s committed to his work and gets his job done, and he’s passionate about what he does whether that’s good for him or not. 

But with you? With you he was just a man. Just your owner, your person. And that was such a relief.

“How’s she doing?” Ingrid asks out of habit. Every woman in the office can’t help but ask Leon about his perfect princess. And of course he laughs, shaking his head.

“Spoiled as ever. Really enjoying my time off with her.” Much needed confirmation, he knows he’d never hear the end of it if he dared tell Hunnigan about the time out incident. Best to keep it lighthearted now. Even as her face seems to.. Falter. What was that about?

“Listen, about the Phillis report..”

And then that lightheartedness was gone. If it weren’t for the icy chill that surrounded him, Leon would’ve gone a new shade of pale in the cool winter light. 

It never used to bother him. It never phased him on the outside. But now? With you?

The Phillis report. A family with a hybrid that had been a target for a bioterrorism attack. 

A hybrid.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you smiling, the red tips of his ears pricking at your laughter, the soft crunch of snow beneath people’s feet feeling much louder now as they passed. Everyone’s footsteps were unique, every thud and crush that left a print. Evidence. Clues. Cases. Work.

A hybrid like you. Everything was muddling together into the nastiest shade of grey water freezing over into ice. He hated his job. If he could pull the pin on a grenade, jump on top of it and coat the walls of that godforsaken office in his blood and guts he would. Because that’s what they were asking from him. They were asking him to die for them. Jumping from subject to subject, he was playing jump rope and hopscotch with his morals and intrusive thoughts over one simple statement in the middle of the holidays. How the mighty so quickly fell beneath twinkling lights and atop brightly wrapped presents.

The pulse of his heart had managed to spike, thundering fast and heavy in his chest. Eyes half an inch wider, pupils shrunk.

It could’ve been you. It- “Please, don’t. I’m just- I’m trying to not think about all of that. Not with her here.” It came out a bit too rushed, like his body had forced each syllable from his lips to get a point across. A safety measure, a precaution for his well being.

Leon had already spent countless nights tossing and turning over the paranoia of you being caught in his work. Now it had gotten so bad that even the mention of a hybrid being involved in a case made him sick to his stomach.

Because what if that had been you?

His throat almost closed itself off to the world as he got his words out. Ingrid’s face was creased in worry at the state of him. How had one statement so quickly pulled him through a 180? “It’s our first Christmas together, I can’t ruin that. I can’t.” Swallowing felt like choking down gravel but he managed to nonetheless. 

Hunnigan’s gaze softened, because she knew exactly how much it would ruin a perfectly good day if she were to stretch this out. She knew you were bouncing around somewhere without even looking for you amidst the snow and differently shaped animal ears and noses. You were the centre of Leon’s world, even if he didn’t know it. But those around him, those like her and Claire and Rebecca, could see what a difference you’d made. “I get it. Just.. don’t worry about rushing it, okay? It can wait until next year.”

“Yeah.. Yeah, thanks.” Automated. Robotic. Leon felt like he was backseating his own life as he responded, hearing Hunnigan’s shoes click as she prepared to walk back to her apartment complex. The sympathy ebbing from her expression only made him feel more sick, and yes that would’ve made him feel bad if it weren’t for him being on the brink of what was most likely a panic attack.

“Merry Christmas, Leon. Take it easy.” He couldn’t get the words out, settling for a stiff nod. Work. Work, work, work. It followed him everywhere no matter how fucking hard he tried to escape it. Think of something else, he scolded himself through the deafening heartbeat in his ears. Anything else. Think of you.

Padding your way over the snow, he watched on in an attempt to calm himself down as you bounded around the park like a bunny. Maybe a fox, the type that burrowed deep under the flurries of fresh powder with yipping laughter. All he knew was you were enjoying yourself, and that was all that mattered. That was all he focused on as his breathing steadied. With a short, still somewhat breathless whistle, your ears stood on end. Immediately your head thwipped to him, and you were merely a blur of pink and white that came scampering towards him. Yeah, that got a snort. Good. He needed to laugh more.

“There’s my girl.”

And there you were indeed, practically barrelling into his leg so he let out a hoarse ‘oof’ at the impact. Complete with a whispered “Hi daddy,’ that somehow managed to calm his heart in ways no medication or therapy could. Maybe he could start you out on service hybrid training, get you certified. Nah, you were too cuddly for that. Plus the vest would have to be pink or you just might refuse to wear it. So for now, he figured he may as well treat you.

“How about some hot cocoa, hm? You were a good girl after all, took your punishment like a champ.” Lie. Big, fat lie. If the ladies at the office ever caught word of how Leon had put you in timeout he’d be getting the most gruelling of death glares. His grave would be trampled on as they sprinted their way over to comfort you. He couldn’t really blame them, though, how could you not run someone over to pet someone as precious as you. You, currently sticking your little tongue out to catch the delicate snowflakes floating down from the sky as you approached the cafe. That’s what he had to keep reminding himself of in this moment. He did all of this for you. Trying to drown out the sinking ache in his stomach as if he’d swallowed an anvil, that son of a bitch must’ve been hidden between the bubbles of his saliva, or maybe the frost that dripped from the roof. 

So yeah, he was using you as the most sweet looking distraction right now, watching your wide eyes take in the wood grain and sleek walls of the coffee shop tucked into a corner of the park. On your best behaviour as you both stood in line until you got to the register. The metal tang in the back of his throat definitely had nothing to do with the gut weight still lingering after talking to Ingrid. Nope. Must’ve been the cold.

“Yeah, can we grab one long black and one.. Hm.” For a moment Leon caught himself rethinking his decisions. Was it really the best idea to give you something that had ‘cocoa’ in the name? You guys had yet to test how you’d react to chocolate after all. Taking the time to test and breakdown what food and beverage you could eat or simply didn’t like was a meticulous process, but better safe than sorry. “Wait, that was on our testing list..”

“Daddy?” Sorry puppy, daddy’s too busy having a small crisis over whether or not you can actually drink what he was ordering for you.“Is it- It should be safe for you to have hot cocoa, right?” “Daddy.” This time it was flatter. Unimpressed.

“I mean you haven’t had a bad reaction to anything yet despite being part puppy but, it’s technically chocolate to some degree so-

“Daddy!”

The tugging at his wrist was enough to get his attention back on you, the draw of your big dewy eyes and scrunched nose luring him in like a fish to bait.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” “Turn brain switch off.” 

Sometimes he thought you were pretending to be as curious and innocent as you are, because you so easily sensed when he was anxious or worried. Like an instinct. Sure, he loved you to bits, but you weren’t the brightest bulb in the- light store? Batch? He’d come up with a better analogy later. Either way, the point stood. And yet you always did that little head tilt when something seemed off. That bulb flickering to life.

“Right, puppy. Daddy’s turning the overthinking switch off.” Leon reassured as best as he could. And it seemed to satisfy. “Good daddy.”

He couldn’t help but snort again at that. “Thanks, baby.” Being praised for his minute efforts in managing his thoughts by his very own puppy hybrid. By the time you hit the register he was still smiling despite the storm in his head. “One long black and a hot cocoa, please.” 

But oh, how quickly it faded into thunder clouds. Even as he gave the barista his name for the order and walked over to wait for your drinks, it lurked over him. A sickening thickness in his throat, like tar tobacco and nicotine had clogged his windpipe. He was on auto pilot when he collected the recyclable cups and placed one of them into your eager hands, not recognising his own voice as he warned you about it being hot.

Leon was stuck between reality and dissociation, his feet leading both of you on the path back home that you’d taken enough times to have memorised. And even as you blew on the surface of your cocoa through the spout of the cup’s lid, you could see it in his eyes. That distant look. Deflated, the same as when you chewed on your favourite squeaky toy too hard and it popped.

“Daddy? You’re all droopy.”

Your voice was high and puzzled, all floppy ears and arched brows in confusion. Did he not like the park? You’d had a wonderful time making snow angels and bounding through the white powder like sweet icing sugar atop a winter cake. Maybe daddies just didn’t do parks well, like how you didn’t do the vet too well.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Daddy’s just thinking about things.” It had him staring out so far his eyes hit the end of the sidewalk, through the ice and snow to the cement. One hand held your leash, the other swiping past his lips. Hoping to wipe away the residue of his frown. 

It didn’t work. “But the switch..” Oh, don’t give him that tone. So heartbroken, so worried. It broke him.

“I know, I know the switch honey.” Already he was rubbing over the crease between his brows. This conversation couldn’t happen, not here and not now. “But sometimes- sometimes it’s not that simple, you know? Sometimes the switch doesn’t work.”

You supposed that made sense. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder. And pry, just a smidge. You could be a little pushy and shovey, whether you meant it or not. “Well, whatcha thinking about?”

What wasn’t he thinking about was the real question. It was all blurring together.

He simply shook his head. Made the bangs of his hair sway when he did. “Don’t worry about it, pup. It’s a conversation for another time.”

Well, that didn’t seem right to you. Usually Leon was so open with his feelings towards you, so you couldn’t help but nudge him. This time not with your nose or paw, but with your words. “But..”

And then his voice was lighter, as if he’d dropped the weight he’d been carrying over to one shoulder. Giving the illusion that things were better, that things were normal. But that shoulder still slumped. “Hey, weren’t you telling me something about Jill’s dog Carlos showing up on his own today? What was that about?” 

It still dragged.

At first you were very willing to tell him, the very concept of a hybrid on their own both bewildered, confused and excited you. Carlos was a big shaggy furred fella, he always played fair and shared the good treats Jill handed out.

But you knew this tactic. It was the same as when you’d ask him questions and instead of giving you an answer he’d pick up the nearest squeaky toy and suddenly you were playing fetch instead of talking. This time you were all the wiser.

“You’re trying to distract me! I don’t get it, when people say certain things you go stiff and wonky.” You couldn’t help but frown up at him. It didn’t feel fair, not knowing these things about him. A whole year together and yet sometimes he looked more like a stranger, dodging your questions and petting your ears so you’d move on. But you weren’t expecting him to furrow his eyebrows and sigh low in his chest, the way his forehead creased and nose flared. It was the same look you got before time out, only this one seemed more defensive than the last. 

“Not now, sweetheart. Please.” Leon’s tone was flat, no room for argument no matter how much your wriggled and squeezed your body between the cracks. Your tail’s wag deflated, slowing to nothing more than a slight sway. The snow felt a little colder after that.

December 30th

Christmas had been nothing short of a success in the Kennedy household, with Leon’s living room being covered in scattered wrapping paper and a whole new variety of toys in pastel colours. He was delighted. This may have been one of the few times he actually enjoyed a holiday rather than loathing it. Maybe it was because you were there, so he wasn’t spending it alone like he usually did. The way you’d spun in circles and yapped happily about it being Christmas morning.

It had been your first real Christmas ever. Your first Christmas not spent in a cage, where you got toys and ate warm meals with the man you loved, with Claire and Becca and Chris and Jill coming over for lunch under the fluorescent glow of the Christmas lights you’d insisted Leon put up. You’d sat by the tree unwrapping gifts with the fastest wagging tail Leon had ever seen, ears perked to attention and eyes wide and sparkling. He was glad, honoured really, to witness this moment of pure unbridled joy for you.

The two of you spent most if not all of Boxing Day lazing around the house in your pajamas, cuddling by the fireplace and bundling under blankets for more than a few naps. Lazy days, oh how you both loved them. Soon it was the 26th, then the 27th,so on and so on. 

Now, the christmas paper had been collected, the tree’s decorations were slowly taken down in day by day intervals, and you sat politely by the glass door to the backyard watching the snow. Leon figured if there was ever a time to truly explain to you the truth behind his career, it was likely now. A tough conversation to have, but one that needed to happen. He just couldn’t leave you in the dark like this, not any longer. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” “Hm?”

There it was. That innocent lilt, the curve of your neck as you craned to look at him. You were something too pure to be sitting on the floor of his home. You deserved mattress upon mattress like the princess and the pea, only he wouldn’t be an idiot like the ones in that book. Leon knew better than to leave under the bed unattended in case there were coyotes trying to nip at his sweet girl’s toes and tail.

Softening, that’s what he was doing. Cracking. This wasn’t going to end well and he knew it. “Y’know how daddy doesn’t like to talk about work?”

Uh oh, now you knew it was time for a serious talk. Not like when you dirtied the rug, this time you weren’t in trouble. Still you looked at him so gently, with such trust while that mountain of fluffy fur behind you swished. Because if it was serious, it was important. “Yeah.”

Leon patted the spot on the couch beside him, complete with a pretty pink bone print blanket for you to settle on, to which you trotted yourself over as dainty as could be. Hopping up next to him, a tail curled around your back. Getting yourself cozy under his arm with your head nestled right next to his chest. Listening to the steady thrum of his heart as his pulse picked up. Doing so much, yet so little, and it all comforted him.

 It was starting to sink in. He was telling you. He was opening the casket, dragging the corpse of his past through the dirt to pose for a real, living person. How was he supposed to break this to you? How did you even word his job without saying ‘I might die one day’?

“Well, that’s cause what I do is pretty dangerous, puppy. I don’t want to worry you with all the stuff I have to do.” The violence, the bloodshed, the screaming. Flashes of red that haunted his dreams, the ones you’d nudge at his face over until he’d wake up because you heard him muttering in his sleep.

“Why?” You were so oblivious to his little inner world, the one he made sure to hide from you. The one filled with guilt and shame. He wanted to keep it that way, but what choice did he have? How could he keep you safe if you had no idea what you were being kept safe from? You should be worried about what colour skirt to wear, or if your collar matches your outfit, not this bullshit. 

“Because it’s just better for you to sit and wait for me to get home at the end of the day, baby.” It was better for you to expect him home every day. 

It was better for both of you if you just always thought he was coming home.

 It made his heart break so hard his ribs snapped thinking about you sitting by the big bay window, tail flicking and throat weeping whimpers if he didn’t show up for a few days. Then weeks. Then eventually someone would have to take you in, pack up all your toys. They’d find the list he kept stashed on the top of the fridge just in case; instructing anyone who found you on just how you liked your food and which stories to whisper in your ear at night when the thunder got too loud. 

You’d never go willingly. Someone would have to leash you and tug you out the door to their car. You’d cry. You’d cry so hard your throat would die out hoarse. It would probably be Claire or Chris or Becca picking you up, he’d have to hope. The thought of some stranger from the DSO taking you from his home, your home, the home you shared together, had him swallowing down a lump. He knew you’d never recover from it. It would shatter you, after sitting in a kennel alone for so long and finally crawling out of your shell, just to lose the person you so clearly loved more than anyone else. Fuck, Leon could feel his eyes watering.

But he couldn’t do that to you. He just couldn’t. It would be the cruelest thing in the world for him to abandon you without any choice in the matter. If he were a stronger man he’d have retired by now. But he wasn’t stronger. He had no backbone when it came to his job, the government, the United States as a whole. Some fucking hero. He was more like a lapdog, breaking his neck for a board of people who didn’t give a shit about him. Taking the scraps he was offered.

“Daddy, you’re crying..” Your sad voice pulled him back into reality, where you were now taking those soft hands of yours to wipe away his tears. Wet streaks that lined the creases forming in his scarred over skin. He was getting too old for this. Too old to be bottling up these feelings for days on end. Wearing himself down for the sake of denying what he felt.

“Fuck, sorry sweetheart. It’s just.. It’s my job to keep you safe. But it’s also my job to keep everyone else safe, too. And your daddy’s been through everything, honey. Zombies, parasites, bioterrorism, war, the whole five yards. I’ve had so many people turn their backs on me or- or look to me for help for so long that it drives me crazy to even think of you worrying about me not coming home.”

How long had it been since he’d cried? Really cried? How much more could a man like Leon take? Sure he was strong, he had to be. Built up from broken beginnings on bloodied glass, shitty past relationships and world-ending catastrophes. But he was only human for Christ’s sake.

And maybe he was finally starting to sober up to that realization.

“I always think you’ll come home..”

Of course you did. Of course you, this sweet angel of a puppy girl, looked up at him with those watery eyes filled with confidence in such a statement. As if you loved him so much it almost poured from your lash line in heart shaped droplets. You had such hope despite where he’d adopted you from. Had he done that? It was odd to think about. How someone as shitty as him (in his perspective at least) had gotten you to blossom and bloom into the sweet thing you were today.

“Yeah, why’s that honey?”

“Cause you’re Leon, and Leon is the strongest person I know.”

The weight of your head now resting against his shoulder was like an anchor that stopped Leon from washing out on the beach of his despairs. He wasn’t left to drift off into oblivion, to drown in his sorrows and regrets. He had you. You had him. A hand came out to instinctively pet over the warm fuzz of your floppy ears, and he seeked out the comfort that came with your presence.

It was comforting, the quiet. Not tense or awkward. Like the waves of the ocean sloshing to a slow and serene sway after a tsunami or a tidal wave. To know you saw him as your hero, that you held him in such high regard. It made every grey hair and creased feature feel worth it. Everything he did, he did it for you. And for once it didn’t feel like a pressure, or a burden, it was a responsibility he was glad to shoulder. Like he were your knight in shining armour.

“Why’d you never tell me you went through all that stuff?” Even now as you spoke your voice was low and soft, sweet to his ears like a drizzling of warm honey right to his cochlea. Those homemade remedies for aches and pains.

Even now he found himself chuckling to get through this, an ache in his chest with each exhale. Someone had set a cinderblock on his chest, and you were mustering up all the strength in those little paws to ease it off. “And ruin what we’ve got going on right here? I wasn’t gonna risk that.”

Apparently that was the wrong answer, because now you were perked upright with the slightest of pouts perched atop your lips. Disagreement etched into your features. “S’ not ruined, dummy. It just means I get to say I love you a whole lot more.”

Now it was his turn to snort sincerely. Always so stubborn. Adorable, sweet, but stubborn. "Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm. So when things are yuck it’ll be easier to remember that I love you. Cause I’ll say it as many times as I gotta until you believe it.”

You ruined him, and not in a bad way. You took the world’s smallest pick to the world’s coldest iceberg and chipped back his layers sliver by sliver. Sculpting him back into what he once was before the world dumped cold water onto him and froze over the softness that lay within. 

Leon’s hand stroked aimlessly over the curve of your head, tracing over the edges of your hair gently. Even with the scrapes on his knuckles and bruises on his palms he always made sure to be soft with you. His voice, half cracked and brimming with affection, was quiet as he whispered back. “I love you too, puppy. You’re my best girl.”

Firewood crackled in a low, jagged white noise in the background, smoothing into a quiet simmer that cast a warm orange glow against the walls. Bathing the room in heat, one that you both let wrap around you like a safety blanket. You found haven in each other, because no matter what, you always came back to one another. Leon was your owner, after all. It was his job to ensure you had the best life, with all the comforts you could ask for and then some.

And he planned to do just that. Whether it meant dumping out all the alcohol in his house or not.

“So.. Do I get more presents?” It’s a teeny voice against his shirt that had him tilting his chin down to look at you.

“Well no puppy, the next holiday is New Years Eve. We don’t give presents then, only Christmas.” A pretty straight forward explanation, or at least that’s what it felt like to him.

“Why?” Another chirp.

His brow arched. “Cause Christmas is only once a year, sweetie.”

“Why?” And another. “Okay, we’re not starting this.”

God, just wait until you find out about birthdays. Then he’s done for.

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[cartoonsinthemorning]

Soft chunky fem!stan who still loves boxing and wants to show off how strong she is to Ford so she crushes a watermelon in-between her thighs🚀🌋💥

Hey there anon! It's your unlucky day, because I know you where hoping for art, but I'm the mood to write, instead. You get a short fanfic. I HC that fem!Stan (just gonna call her Stan from now on, short for Constance) isn't allowed to box. Even more than that, actually: Filbrick didn't allow her to take boxing lessons, and Caryn forbid her to box at all, because "You already inherited your father's nose, sweety! What would become of your face if you broke it? your face is the one good thing you have...don't look at me like that, you know you're too fat". So, of course, Stan convinces Ford to give her secret lessons. He said no, at first- he doesn't want to get into trouble, and doesn't want her to get hurt! She is a girl, after all! why can't Stan just resume ballet lessons, like mom wants? But Stan is not only extremely stubborn, she knows her Sixer will do anything, if she strokes her ego right. She insists he would be a great teacher: he's so good at explaining stuff to her! And he's got so much better with boxing, over the years, she is sure he's got amazing tips and tricks to share. Ford knows she is buttering him up, he's not stupid. But eventually, as he always does, capitulates.

Ford doesn't even understand why Stan is so enthusiastic about boxing. It's boring to him. But she absorbs all the basics fast, and gets so disappointed and whiny when he puts his foot down and says he refuses to spar with her, now that he taught her everything he knows. He would never, ever hit her, no matter if it's just to exercise. Stan protests that she will never be able to improve, without a training partner, but this time Ford means it, so eventually she stops asking. She doesn't give up, though. Stan convinces Ford to sneak her in the gym after everyone left, this time, to massacre the sack with all her frustrations. It is quite a sight to behold, and a private spectacle Ford can't help but admire. She's starting to pack up some muscle mass, under her soft curves, and she must like it as much as Ford does, because eventually Stan starts to do squats and even attempts push ups, at the gym and in their room. One day, she gets this idea in mind. She wants to prove herself, by crushing a watermelon with her thighs muscles. Maybe she saw the trick in a magazine or something. It's such a stupid stunt, that it makes Ford roll his eyes when he first hears about it- but Stan's eyes sparkle when she talks about it, so of course, he agrees to assist her. Stan goes for the biggest watermelon she spots in the store, first, but Ford eyeballs that it would take about 364 pounds to crush it, and she should humble herself a bit- for once. Eventually she settles for one that may take about 200-something pounds, and brings it home. Despite the downgrade, Ford is still convinced the challenge is way above her sister's current might. And indeed, he doesn't hide a smug smile when she squats down to press the melon with all her strength, and the fruit stays stubbornly intact. She's a knucklehead tomboy, she knows that, right? Let's call it a day and slice that thing up for a snack, before she gets all bruised up. But his sister growls at him she can do it! She just needs to press some more. Maybe try something different.... When she lies down and props herself on her elbows, gripping the melon between her crossed thighs, something changes.

Not because she immediately succeeds, but because Ford doesn't feel amused anymore. Stan is groaning, cussing, blushing, tossing her head back, while her long legs tense up, wrapped around that stupid melon. Both twins are sweating, but for entirely different reasons. Ford begins to be afraid the tension building up between his own thighs may soon be a problem, so he tries to call the whole stunt off. "Stan, enough!" he exclaims, getting up, hoping by realizing her sole spectator is leaving, she will give up. "WAIT!" she growls, panting furiously, chest bobbing up and down "I'M SO CLOSE!". Ford is frozen into place- because he's stuck by the sight of her, so downright obscene, and because she is right: the watermelon is cracking. With a gross, squelching noise, the watermelon POPS- making Stan moan in triumph and exhaustion, as the red juice wets her trembling thighs, traveling down- Ford gulps down a lump in his throat- down between her ass cheeks and lower back, and drippling on the floor. Some droplets even splattered all over her white shirt, peppering her cleavage with tiny, pulpy, red hearts and dots. The final straw, for Ford, is when she looks up at him and winks- she winks, the shameless teas that she is- and says, between heavy breathes "See, Sixer? Am I the strongest girl in the world or what?". Ford looks at her in what he hope comes across as deadpan, rather than sexually frustrated, and curtly replies: "Yeah, well done. I'm not helping you cleaning up that mess" before booking out, running to the bathroom. OMAKE: Stan bruised her inner thighs and Ford once saw her spreading ointment over it, and he busted the biggest nut by masturbating imagining he was the one applying it. THE END.

[jomgiiu]

HEAT OF THE MOMENT

The king of Hawkins high, Steve Harrington asks you out on a date but not for the reason you think. After that night, you learn who the real Steve Harrington is.. or so you thought. 

paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

CW: ANGST ANGST ANGST, i guess bully!steve?, steve being a douchebag, king steve taking effect, swearing obviously, mentions of wounds/blood not to major. 

A/N: i wrote this one a whim, got carried away it’s not the best but i need feedback to see what i should do next with it lol. i liked writing season 1 steve, i made him meaner than in the actual show but ofc i hope you all dont mind! enjoy and reblog! (not proof read and poor writing oops)

Last night was the worst nights of your life, you got stood up by Steve Harrington. He'd asked you on a date during lunch and you obviously said yes. You and your friends were giggling and whispering about it all day, they gave you advice about what to do and say, what to wear, how to do your makeup, they seemed more excited than you. The moment you got home you got ready. He said he’d be there at 6 and it was already 3, so you had enough time to plan everything out. You put on your favorite record, pulled out your lucky socks, and got ready. The outfit you picked look like it came out of a magazine, so elegant and beautiful; Steve was definitely going to fall for you. At least that’s what you thought.

Sitting on the couch, you waited and waited and waited. 6 o’clock rolled around and the butterflies in your stomach would not stop.  

6:13. He's just running a bit late.  

6:28. Maybe he had car trouble?

6:41. Maybe he actually meant 7!

7:15. Or maybe he didn’t mean anything at all.  

7:35. You were nothing to him.  

Your parents didn’t get home from work until 8, so you decided to go up and change to save yourself the embarrassment of them asking about anything. Feeling like you came out of magazine just to feel like you were a thrown-out magazine because it’s the wrong issue. You went to sleep that night, crying over a stupid boy and a stupid date. It was stupid.  

-

What felt like forever, you finally got to your locker. Fumbling with the lock, you got it to open and put your things away, grabbing stuff for your classes.  Laughter was heard a few lockers down, glancing over it was Steve and his idiot friends. You sighed and shut your locker. You didn’t want to confront Steve but you had the right too. Confidently, you walked over to them but that instantly left when Carol whispered something to Steve, making him snicker. Your stomach felt like it was twisting and winding, you felt sick.  

“Hey, you!” Carol greeted; her words were sweet but was sour coming out of her mouth. You gave her a small wave and went to focus on Steve. He had on a blue polo, Calvin Klein jeans and a dark windbreaker complementing his outfit. His hair was perfect as always, he spent more time looking at himself than he did anyone else.  

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Um,” the words were stuck in your throat. His stare was burning you. Either you chicken out or you confront him.

“Where were you last night?” the words came out in almost a whisper.  

“Huh? What was that?” he put his hand behind his ear, leaning down a bit to you. “What did you say?” Steve’s teasing was cruel, he has a smirk planted on his face waiting for you respond.

“I think our friend here asked about your date last night.” Tommy commented.  

“Ah.” Steve moved his hand away from his ear and resting it in his jean pocket. “Listen, I was planning on going but I got wrapped up in somethings. I was going to call. Promise.” The sympathy in his voice was forced.  

“Yeah, Steve was too busy studying anatomy with Nancy.” Tommy teased, making Carol slap him on the chest playfully. Steve smirked and looked at you.

“Tom, pay up man.”

What?

You tried to process what was going on. You watched Tommy give Steve a $20, shoving it in his pocket looking so proud of himself.  

“Why did-”

“Oh gosh, for being a straight ‘A’ student, you really are stupid.” Carol said.  

“W-what?”

“Tommy over here told me if I asked you out, I'd get the 20. I did and I got the 20.” Steves words felt like a knife to the heart.  

“You put a bet on me?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!” Tommy exclaimed, making everyone laugh.  

“You really believed that Steve would go out with you!” Carol snorted.

“I-”

“Listen, you seem like a great girl, I just don’t think you're up to the Steve Harrington standard. Nancy on the other hand, well she is. Don’t get me wrong, she just like you but more put together you get what I mean?” Steve’s words were harsh but said with ease.  

You began to shake, you tried to hold the tears back forming in your eyes letting one fall down your cheek.

“Aw are you crying?” Carol pouted.  

“I just thought you wanted to actually get to know me.” You choked out.  

“Get to know you? I’d rather talk to a freak than talk to you. But I guess that’s what I’m doing now huh?” Laughter erupted around you. People stopped and stared at you, all eyes were on you, people where whispering and giggling.

You quickly walked away from them, tears clouding your vision you didn’t want to go anywhere else but out. Your friends tried to stop you but you ignored them, you were just trying to get to your car where you could be alone. Getting in your car, you finally let it all out. They humiliated you in front of everyone, Steve placed a bet on you, everyone knew why. You were a loser. You’d never be Nancy Wheeler and you’d never be with Steve Harrington. Going home that day felt awful, you told your parents that you got sick and just needed to be home for the day, or the week. Thankfully, they took the bait and let you come home early and stay home for the week. Your mom went to the school to pick up your work you missed and that kept you occupied for the time being but didn’t distract you from your feelings.  

It didn’t help either that one of your friends called you, basically screaming at you that Steve asked her out on a date and she was calling you from the diner payphone that they were at right now. Your heart almost about blew up when you heard that. The day he does that to you, he asks one of your friends out? You told her congrats and when she briefly asked about your date, you just told her that you canceled because you didn’t feel well, hence why you left school today. She instantly bought it and told you that she’ll update you later and hung up. Of course, everyone had a crush on Steve and everyone wanted to be Steve. You wanted Steve but you didn’t know his personality, you didn’t know who he was as a person until now. Every girl he’s been with was ranting and raving about him and the dates he brings them on, you just wanted to experience one. You knew you were pretty, smart and you had a pretty decent reputation, why would he do that to you. Steve made you feel like nothing. He made you feel ugly, stupid and a loser. Steve Harrington was an asshole and no one knew that expect for you.  

=

Tuesday finally came. You begged your mom to stay home again, since you did Monday. You tired the fake puke trick but she saw right through it. Your mom convinced you if you went to school, you could buy something out of a catalog. You couldn’t pass that opportunity. If you were coming back, you were coming back looking like you haven’t been crying for the past week. You threw on the cutest outfit you could find, made sure the tear stains were off your face, kissed your mom goodbye and headed to school. The moment you walked in, the counselor grabbed you by the throat and dragged you into her office. Ms. Kelly was a nice lady; it was clear she cared about the students but it annoyed you because you didn’t want to talk. She asked how you were doing and what you plan on doing to keep your grades up. You explained that you have all your work, you just need to turn it in.  

“Wonderful!” she said.  

Ms. Kelly looked down at her paper, dragging her finger along until she stopped.  

“Ms. Click has actually requested to see you, I told her I'd send you down to talk to her. She couldn’t wait until your period. You can also take your work for her class and turn it in then.” She said, writing a hall pass. “Just come back here when you’re done okay?” You nodded gripping your history work, taking the hall pass and walking to Clicks. You liked Click, she was nice to you and you had her 5th period which was such a calm class, you liked everyone in there. As soon as you opened the door to Clicks, everyone's eyes were on you and even pair you didn’t want. Steve Harringtons.  

“Oh, perfect timing! Class, turn and talk about the question on the board I'll be a moment.”  

You walked into the classroom more to Clicks desk. She smiled at you and offered you a little candy. How could you say no. You handed her your stack of papers as she sat down at her desk.

“How have you been. 5th hour hasn’t been the same!”  

You glanced around the class to see the people. Steve was still looking at you. You began to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.  

“Oh, I've been sick. Flu season I guess.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you for doing your work while you were sick. Not a lot of kids even do their work in class.” you nodded. “I called you here to obviously see if you were alright but also to see if a student can borrow your notes. You did them perfectly and I think it would help them. Don’t worry, he’ll give it back to me so you can have it back.” Click began to look through another pile of papers.  

“Sure, who’s using it?”

“Steve.”

The color drained from your face. God was not on your side today. You didn’t want the cause of you missing school to look at your notes, it’s his fault he’s stupid.  

“Ah, here we are,” She pulled out your notes and handed them to you. “Give those to Steve please and you can be on your way. We can talk more in 5th hour!” She smiled. You grabbed your notes and have her a tight-lipped smile. Turning away from her desk, you walked to Steve’s. He clearly wasn’t doing the assignment, just goofing around and flirting with the girls around him. Making it to his desk, he stopped talking to the girls and instantly looked at you.

“What-”

“Ms. Click wanted me to give you my notes to help you out.” you interrupted, holding out the notes to him.  

“Pfft, I don’t need your notes. I don’t want to read mistakes.”  

Hold it together.

“It wasn’t my choice. It was Ms. Cli-”

“Does it look like I care about what she has to say? No. Do I care what you have to say? No. I'm surprised you even came to school today looking like this.”

The girls around him started giggling and whispering to each other.  

“I think I look fine.”  

“Well, I'm glad you had the confidence to wear clothes from the salvation army.”

Don’t cry.

“For your information, I got an ‘A’ on these notes and Ms. Click said I was the only one who got an ‘A.’ And I got these from a catalog and I'm sorry my daddy doesn’t buy me every new thing like your ugly BMW you drive and at least I'm not a wannabe dickhead.”

Steve put his hands over his chest, having a shocked expression on his face which quickly switched to a smug look.

“Wow! You got me there! You showed me!” Steve scooted up closer in his seat, resting his arms in front of him looking right at you.  

“I'm not the wannabe sweetheart, you are. You want to have my money and BMW so bad but here you are driving your run-down Ford Escort and thinking that catalog clothing is going to save you. It’s not. Sure, you think you're all smart but looks will do you better in the future. Remember that.” Steve snatched the notes from your hands and started to talk to his friends again. 

You left the classroom so fast, before you could say goodbye to Ms. Click. The whole day you were worried about what Steve said. About how you looked and how looks will get you places. You knew it was bullshit, you had colleges already begging for you to go to school but it’s the way Steve said it. Worse of it all, you went to 5th hour, hoping for a good period. Until you got your notes back to notice he scribbled all over them, writing things, drawing crude things on all your work. You frantically began to look through the notes until one comment stood out to you.  

‘When you walk out of school, make sure to wear the bag on your head I left you at your locker. You need it.’

Tears filled your eyes. You shot up from your seat and ran out of your class. Ms. Click was yelling for you as you ran down the halls until you got to your locker. There you saw a paper bag with eye holes cut out of it, tapped to your locker. You ripped the bag off your locker and fell to your knees, sobbing into the paper bag. Why was Steve being so mean to you? You should be ruining his life; he shouldn’t be ruining yours. This all started with a date that turned out to be a joke and then ever since your life went downhill. Classmates from your period found you and tried to comfort you of what happened. You broke and told Ms. Click what happened and what Steve did which led to Principal Higgins getting involved and calling your parents and Steve's. He got a suspended for the rest of the week which was a relief to you but didn’t help the situation. Now since this situation, you were known as the ‘Cry baby.’ Your friends tried to help you feel better and stood up for you when the time was right. You were grateful to have a support system but not grateful for Steve Harrington.  

=

It’s been a few months since the whole Steve situation and some forgot about it and moved on to other things like the Byers youngest boy going missing and Barb Holland also going missing, making the whole town worried. Steve was still a dick but he didn’t pay any mind to you though, he was too busy dealing with his goons and his dream girl, Nancy Wheeler. A part of you still had a crush on him, just the smallest he was still cute but he was still a dick. You had to go see Ms. Kelly every Friday since what happened which you didn’t mind but it was still annoying. It was the same bland conversation about your week. If there's any people giving you a hard time, grades, college, just boring, stupid conversations that waste your time during 6th period but you got to leave earlier which was a plus. Before you left, Ms. Kelly told you that your mom called and wanted you to stop by Melvald’s to grab some more dish soap so that’s where you are now, looking for dish soap and Melvald’s. Why are there so many soaps? You never paid attention to what one you used it was just soap.  You notice someone move at the conner of your eye, you paid no mind to it until you noticed who the someone was. The navy-blue jacket, the blue jeans, the green shirt, the hair. Yeah, it was him.  

Oh god not here.  

Focus on the soaps.

Glancing over at him he was looking at the band aids and ointments he looked dazed, squinting at labels trying to make it clear. Then a pair of hazel eyes fell on you, making you quickly look at the soaps. You swore your heart was going to explode it was pounding so fast, it felt like someone was squeezing your whole body you couldn’t breathe. Was this really happening? Why was he here? How could you not see his BMW in the parking lot? Anxiety riddled your body as you heard someone shuffle up to you. God don’t let it be you.

“Hey,”  

Frozen in place, you moved your head slightly to look at him. You were taken back by the way he looked. The right side of his face was bloody and bruised with the wound already scabbing over, his right eye swollen, a small cut settled on his lip following one on the bridge of his nose., going slightly down to the right of his cheek.  He looked awful. You tried not to stare at him too much, you didn’t want to be rude but it was impossible to look away. Who did this to the king of Hawkins high?

“Sorry to bother you. I just--I can't really read this. Is this the right ointment?”

Your eyes trailed down to the box he was holding making you huff out a laugh.  

“Well, if you have hemorrhoids then yes, but otherwise no.”  

“Uh, no. Not necessarily.” His face turned a light shade of red. “I need something for um,” he pointed to his face rising his eyebrows. “This.”

“I’ll help you. Hemorrhoid cream definitely isn't gonna help that.” you kicked yourself for that and made your way to where he was before. Steve stood watching you look through the hundreds of creams and ointments on the shelf. You eventually found one and replaced it the original ointment in Steve's hand for the new one.  

“Zemo will help a lot it does wonders; it makes it less itchy and heals quicker. You'll thank me later.”  

Steve looked at the medicine and looked back at you. There was no hatred in his eyes, no cruelness. Just hurt. He was hurt inside and out; he was guilty for what he’s done to you and so many others. He’s guilty for hurting the only girl he loves. He’s hurting.  

“Thanks.” that’s all he could say to you in this moment. A simple thank you, not anything else.

“Have you cleaned them?”  

“Uh no, just had an aspirin and a cold coke to put it on.” Steve shrugged.  

You sighed.  

“Okay, just get that, I'll finish what I need and meet me outside okay?”

-

The stinging sensation of the alcohol covered cotton pad on the open wound made Steve wince, making him pull his head away from you. You muttered a sorry and he just huffed and let you clean him up. Never in a million years you would be sitting here in the Milvad’s parking lot taking care of Steve Harrington. He watched you carefully as you take your time with him, carefully moving so he wouldn’t be in as much pain as he already was. It took someone to beat the absolute shit out of him for him to realize how much of a dick he was. How miserable he made people feel. How miserable he made you feel.  

“Sorry, this happened to you, I can't imagine how much it hurts.”

Steve scoffed at your sincerity.

“I deserved it, you out of all people should be happy this happened to me.”

“A little part of me is,” you admitted. “Who did this to you?”

You put the cotton pad down and grabbed the Zemo putting a glob on your finger and gently rubbing it in over his wound. Steve hissed at the contact.  

“Jonathan Byers.” Steve mumbled.  

“Oh wow.” You were quite shocked that a quiet boy like him could rock Steve’s shit. Steve was fit, he had to be for basketball and baseball so you assume he could win a fight. You finished applying the Zemo and giving it to Steve.

“Make sure you put this on twice a day, and only once if you shower. It should help the itch and the scaring a bit. You'll be healed in no time.”  

Steve held the Zemo in his hands and watched you clean everything up. You were really pretty up close. Yeah, he looked at you close up a lot of times but this time he noticed every detail of your face, every curve, every wrinkle, every texture, he was scared of looking away because he didn’t want to forget it. Steve thought back to the paper bag he taped to your locker, Tommy and Carol thought it would be a funny idea and so did he at the time. When he was in the principal's office with his dad with you and your parents, he glanced at you and his chest was tight. Your head was hanging low, tears falling down your cheeks and landing on your hands, silent sobs coming from you. Steve recoiled when heard let out sobs after him and his dad left the principal's office. Mr. Harrington made it clear if he pulled that shit again, he would be kicked off the basketball and baseball teams, he wouldn’t get into an ivy league school and end up as a drug dealer on the streets. Mrs. Harrington told him that’s no way to treat girls, there’s no reason to bully girls anyway. She was disappointed in her Stevie and Stevie was disappointed in himself. Of course, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole, if he didn’t get caught then he wouldn’t have to go through that whole fiasco again so he moved on from you and started being an arrogant prick either way to everyone around him. That ended up getting beat up, ditching his “friends” and getting taken care of by the girl he bullied.  

“Thanks for doing this, you didn’t have to you know?”

“I know.” you responded.

“Why did you?”

You sighed and looked at him. He looked so vulnerable, his hazel eyes soft and looking at you. Steve looked like a lost puppy; in some cases, he was. Now he was. He had no friends anymore, he was hurt and lost, no guidance, nothing. You seemed like the only thing keeping him afloat at this moment.

“Unlike some people Steve, I care. No matter what you did to me, how you treated me, you deserve some type of -- I don’t know but I was always taught to help people that needed it. I know you know what's right. I know what you have to do, so do it. You're better than this Steve Harrington.”  

You walked towards your car, quickly getting in throwing the stuff in the front and driving off before Steve could say anything to you. Deep down, you knew Steve was a good person he was just around bad people. As much as you hated it, you knew he had to apologize to Nancy, he had to make everything up to her and even Jonathan but it was selfish to think he’d do the same to you.