#I have no idea if this is what teenagers wear these days I feel like such an oap (i’m 22)

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[doctorwhommm]

would you 🥺 please draw anwen (gwens daughter) as a teenager 🥺🥺 i love her to bits

*boomer voice* is this what kids look like these days?

her and her little brother hunt aliens and solve mysteries bc they look up to their mum and were raised on stories of uncle jack, uncle owen, uncle ianto and aunty tosh !! but since they don’t live in cardiff the most mysterious things they investigate are like ‘what happened to mrs smith’s missing cat’ (gwen is very glad of this)

[surrenderonvinyl]

.

[chososdiscordkitten]

You're Mine!

Synopsis: riding choso nd giving him hickeys hehe ^-^

Pairing: Switch!Choso x Fem!Reader Content: No use of y/n, some plot, porn w/ feelings, bite marks, hickeys (m&f), lipstick prints, markings, topics of ownership, praise, riding, hair pulling (M), creampie

Dedicated to; this beloved anon, may your pillows be cold and fluffy 4 the rest of ur life <3

MDNI

Choso didn’t really understand the idea of hickeys and bite marks. Had he bitten you hard enough to leave a mark, wouldn’t it hurt? And aren’t hickeys just bruises made from his lips? 

It didn’t really click in his mind, the idea of pain associated with pleasure- but if you asked him to, he would give you hickeys with a small nibble here or there. 

Giving them was just another task he had to complete when it came to pleasing you- he would happily lap and suckle on the soft skin of your neck and leave blossoming marks on you if it meant you would be happy. 

And when you gave them to him, he still didn’t get why. The process felt terrific, but the aftermath always felt raunchy. Like some horny teenagers who couldn’t control their affections. Or when people looked at the purpling marks on his neck with a little grimace on their faces. 

But when you muttered something into his ear on your way down to the pale skin of his neck- “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” that’s when Choso started associating marks with some kind of ownership. 

If little bruises and remnants of your lipstick where you had kissed him littered his neck, meant he was yours- that was something completely different. Gladly would he offer his skin for you to mark. 

It changed the way Choso looked at the tedious process of giving you small hickeys on your neck and down the swell of your chest. 

It transformed into a way of showing that you were his, just as much he was yours- and that no one else could come near you. 

Wedding rings and necklaces with his initials were one thing—but having a reminder bruised onto your skin. There being no way of removing it other than with time. Just to show people you had a person and didn’t need another. 

It made a particular depraved part of his brain twitch when he would see them on you. Even more when he would see them blooming on his own skin the following day.

Choso had half a mind to tattoo your name on him—just to have a permanent reminder of you etched on his body. 

Nothing, not even time or soap and water, would remove it. But you swatted away those thoughts with the little tickles you would kiss on his skin. 

Thinking how much more enjoyable hickeys and nibbles were than tattoos would be. 

But then came the sad sight of the pretty, pinkish-purple marks fading to an ugly shade of yellow or green. Or the soap scrubbing away the marks your lipstick would leave on his pale skin.

It always made him mournfully graze the diminishing marks in the mirror. 

Though that sight wouldn’t last long, you were always attentive to giving him fresh ones to look at when the fading ones would disappear. 

What you liked most was how fucking sensitive he would get- a few open mouth kisses on his face or his neck, and he would be putty in your hands. 

Even more when he’s sat on the couch beneath you- his hands lazily massaging the malleable skin of your thighs and his head to the side. Giving you the perfect angle to litter his skin with small circles of your spit- beneath the sheen of saliva, a blooming red mark left by your lips. 

With every moan you would vibrate onto his skin- his hands would tighten their grip. Almost urging you to grind onto the growing tent in his as you lapped at his tender skin. 

It didn’t help that you were barely wearing anything- a spaghetti strap tank that rode up your waist with every little grind his hands led you to make. And the only thing separating your core from his tented cock was a pair of panties. 

Supposedly just to do laundry and watch a film while waiting for the first load to finish- your excuse being “There were no clean clothes.” when he asked why you were barely covered. 

And him- a t-shirt and basketball shorts, no boxers because it was as you said, ‘No clean clothes.’

That’s what frustrated Choso the most. So fucking close to your cunt- but two stupid layers of clothing blocking his access. And his lips were far too occupied. Letting out small sighs of content mixed with little whimpers to voice his complaints. 

But you felt just how desperate Choso was starting to get from the way his hips bucked up when you would lightly exhale onto his damp skin. 

A wave of goosebumps rose on his skin with every nibble you would make.

Or how his soft sighs started sounding like whines as your soaked panties would press right against his leaky, clothed tip.

The whimper that left Choso’s lips bordered on a cry when you raised your hips away from him in the slightest. Inching your hand down his torso and dipping your fingers past the elastic of his shorts- your lips refusing to let up the peppering hickeys on his neck.

Your hand lightly grasped his eager shaft, smile forming on your lips against his skin as you released his cock from the prison of his shorts. 

Pulling back and giving him a few gentle strokes as you gazing at Choso's expression. His eyes shut tightly, his bottom lip threatening to quiver with perched eyebrows. And the sharp hiss falling from his parted lips when the ridges of your fingers would roll over his tip. 

Placing a soft kiss on his cheek before sliding your lips to his ear- “Pull them aside.” you commanded with a tone Choso swore you only used to get him to do what you wanted. 

And it always worked. 

His strong hand slid from your hip to your core- greeted with a drenched cotton center as you lapped at his sensitive ear. Whimpering from the light strokes mixed with every sweet exhale you made against the cartilage. 

You couldn’t help the shuddering inhale that left your lips when his finger hooked onto the side of your panties and exposed your sopping cunt to the air. Wasting no time in sliding the tip of his finger up your soaked slit and feeling your hips rise from the feather-like touch. 

As pent up and eager as Choso was- he's never been a monster. Didn’t matter how much precum leaked from his cockhead, he wanted to prep you before anything else. 

But you, the complete opposite. Swatting away his eager-to-please hand with a playful scoff. 

Choso parted his eyes and looked at you, pulling away from his ear with low eyes. His expression all but asking you if something was wrong. 

You lip tucked between your teeth with a strong willed hand grasping at the side of his neck. Taking a humming tone, “Fuck the prep- I need you inside.” you whispered, rolling your palm over his tip and pressing a sloppy kiss onto his lips. 

The kindness of granting you prep had slipped his mind entirely when you looked at him with hungry eyes. So fucking ravenous, you’d risk displeasure just to have his cock inside. 

To have a part of him, inside. 

Choso eased his grip on your sides, feeling your hand grasp right below his cock head and feeling your hips rise a bit more. A hand on the side of his neck with a tucked lip- bracing for the stretch.

The little moan that left his lips bordered on being a shuddering whimper at the heat emitting from your entrance. And when he felt the taught muscle of your cunt press right against his tip- Choso swore he would cum right then and there. 

He had far too little time to prepare himself to not spurt his mess before any real fun started, and your denial for prep didn’t help. The look of pure and utter starvation in your eye, didn’t help. 

The shared inhale of air as you lowered yourself onto him was saccharine to his ears. 

Taught, slick walls that hesitated to welcome him, making his eyes shut again. As though Choso was inviting you to suckle on his neck again, he threw his head back onto the ledge of the couch with a throaty moan. 

And your hips- stuttering with every inch you lowered yourself on. A sharp sigh left your lips before connecting them to Choso’s neck again. Littered with previous blooming marks of a reddish pink. Yet he wanted more. 

And more, you had plenty to give. 

Licking a soft stripe down his adams apple with moans vibrating against him. A soft huff leaving your lips when your clit was flush against his pelvis. Taking your hand and placing it on the hem of his t-shirt. 

Pawing at his happy trail as you lightly rose yourself, your lips sucking on his neck with soft whimpers rumbling from his throat. 

One of Choso’s hands rising up your side and taking the hem of your tank top with it. Pulling your lips from his neck as you slowly rode him. Arching your back to give him a better view of your clothed breasts and seeing Choso’s low eyes lock on them. 

His hand rose past the mound of your breast and freed your nipple from the thin tank. His thumb gave a gentle swipe at the firm bud as your hips took on a frotting motion. His tip nudging right at the sensitive spot with every grind you made. 

Choso broke the gaze he had on your breasts, batting his eyes up to you with a soft whimper. “You’re so pretty.” he hummed, leaning his lips onto the exposed swell of your breast, pressing a gentle kiss onto the soft skin. 

Being able to feel his adoration in the sloppy laps and suckles he made at your chest. 

Lips formed in a soft ‘o’ as your hands reached for the half-removed tank. Slipping it off in its entirety and feeling Choso's hand on your hip, dip beneath the cotton of your panties and grope your ass. 

Your grinds grew in desperation with a slight ache forming in your inner thighs. Your hands slipping beneath his t-shirt and lightly clawing at his carved torso. The light stimulation of your clit grinding against his pelvis knocking more honeyed moans out of your lungs. 

Barely able to withstand the burning in your lower spine from how slow you were going. You leaned forward, raising yourself from his cock and holding yourself mid shift. His mouth full of as much of your breast as he could have. (greedy)

Choso batted his eyelashes up to you, pupils in the shapes of hearts at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his shaft.

Trailing his hand from your rib down to your other cheek, two handfuls of ass being used as mounts as he rose his hips from the couch. 

Unwilling to let go of your skin from his mouth- if anything sucking harsher as he plowed his hips up into you. A strained whine leaving your lips from the swift jab, giving Choso the confidence to continue his harsh thrusts. 

Your hands roamed up his arms and settled in his hair, gladly ignoring the little chime that sounded from the laundry machine. Lightly tugging and feeling the grunts and moans rumble onto your tit with every harsh thrust he made. 

The edges of your fingers lightly clawing at his scalp with an orgasm forming in your tummy. As though your twitching walls weren’t enough for Choso- he took his non-dominant hand from your ass, sliding to your inner thighs right where you connected with him. 

Sucking harshly at any untouched patch of skin his plush lips could find. 

His calloused ring and middle finger pressing against your puffy clit making your spine quiver with a shudder leaving your lips. A drawn-out curse littered between your moans was heard as a hymn to Choso's ears. 

As though you were singing praise from the noises you couldn’t control. Looking up at you, the curve of your neck adorned with a light sheen forming from how worked up you were. 

Releasing your skin from his lips with a little pop, his chest heaving with every whimper spilled from his lips. “Am I doing good?” he murmured against your skin. 

A moan almost in frustration at the question left your lips. Choso’s fingers moving sloppily- unable to keep a pattern with his left hand as his relentless hips bucking into you, churning your brain to mush. 

Placing his lips at your sternum- sucking harshly to create those little marks you so loved to see on your skin. As many as he could just to hear your compliments.

Barely able to comprehend his fish for praise- a sharp exhale left your lips. “D-doing so fuckin’ good.” was all Choso needed to hear to release that knot in his tummy he had been holding tightly from the second his tip pushed past your cunt. 

Holding onto his orgasm for as long as he could- so fucking needy to have you finish before him. 

But the twitching walls of your cunt made it too hard for him to keep his focus. 

Pulling away from your sternum, Choso shut his eyes, his lips pressed tightly together and thrusting into you greedily- your lips barely able to form the words, “F-fill me up-” was the last thing Choso heard before doing as you commanded. 

His hips rutted up into you in tandem with every vulgar spurt his cockhead made. White, thick and full of love coating your walls as he continued his mean thrusts. 

Your mess mixed with his spend pooling at his base and dripping down his heavy balls. Choso’s fingers refused to let up- He needed to feel you cum on his cock. 

And with your hands gripping vigorously at his hair- the moans that left your lips bordered on guttural as his hips continued their fast pace. Uncaring if he was overstimulating his cock- Choso was still hard for you. 

His shoulders trembling with unfiltered grunts and whimpers leaving his lips against your skin as he continued.  

Choso’s jaw was clenched, gripping so harshly at your ass his fingertips were turning white, his nose crinkled with his eyebrows pinched. His moans came out stifled from his nose, barely able to keep up the pace. Your tits bouncing in his face from his incessant jabs as you milked his cock for all he had. 

Eyes rolling back from the harsh nudges his overworked tip made against your gspot, mixed with the merciless circles his fingers made against your cunt made your hands pull on his hair unwillingly.

A little tear falling down your cheek from the mouth-watering pleasure—and fucking finally. Your walls started fluttering around his shaft. 

Choked whimpers graced Choso’s ears as his lips sloppily kissed at your sternum. Too overstimulated to give you any more marks of his adoration, and settling on a few lazy pecks. 

Easing your hips back down onto his lap as your breathing steadied. Shivering inhales with lazy hands sliding from his scalp. Inhaling air with an upturn of whimpers as the remnants of his seed trickled out of you.

Resting your temple onto his shoulder with a pleased smile. His cock still throbbing inside of you as you caught your breath. 

Blinking your eyes up at him as though you weren’t the one who instigated the mess that spilled between you. 

Choso looked back at your pleased expression- fucked out and happy. A sprinkle of smugness in your smile, but still. you were happy. 

Smiling to himself at how convincing the little glimmer in your eyes was- how you could convince Choso himself that you were innocent in all of this. 

Knowing full well that he would be sent to go put that load of laundry to dry before coming back and giving you another load of his. And happy to do so. 

-

(a.n) I doodled mpeg Choso, pregnant with my kids on company time. that's the level of insane im at rn

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Innocence

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!

summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…

word count: 4.6k

a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot

part two is posted!!! here

~~~

Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.

Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.

So, he eventually decided to ask you.

During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.

“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.

He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”

“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”

Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”

You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”

“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.

“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.

He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.

“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”

You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”

Ah, so he was right about that.

“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.

So that meant...

“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.

“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.

Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.

“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”

You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.

~~~

Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.

Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.

The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.

He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.

“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.

“Get what?”

“The ring.”

You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”

Three questions were answered. Good.

Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”

“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”

He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”

“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”

You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.

“How sweet of you.” You giggled.

“ ’Course, anytime love.”

He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.

You were teasing him.

It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.

And you were going to love it.

~~~

Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.

During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.

The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.

It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.

From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.

“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”

He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”

“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.

Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.

“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.

You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”

“But a shag...”

“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”

He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”

“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.

You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”

“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”

“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.

“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

He needed to do something. Now.

“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”

You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”

He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”

For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.

“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”

“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.

You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Till then love.”

Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.

He was never one to give up easily.

~~~

You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.

After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.

“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.

You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”

He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”

You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”

“About what?”

“You know...”

“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”

He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.

“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”

“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”

He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.

“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”

He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.

“How about you come find out?”

You didn’t fight it. He was glad.

Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.

Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.

“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.

He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.

You were perfect.

With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.

After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.

“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”

“Do you want another one?”

“Yes.”

He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.

“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.

“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I am,” you practically whimpered.

“Let go, love, it’s alright.”

Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.

You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”

“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.

“I want to.”

He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.

“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.

He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”

“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.

“Your mouth?”

“Yeah.”

How could he ever refuse?

It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.

He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.

“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.

He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”

“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”

“Depends on what thing.”

“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.

“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.

He kissed you again. “Lay down.”

You did as he said and soon it began.

He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.

When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.

A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.

“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”

He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.

In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.

So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.

After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.

“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.

“Why?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”

“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.

“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”

He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.

Soon, it would be his. And so would you.

[malereader-inserts]

Be Your Boy

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!Reader Summary: Spencer and you are smitten like a pair of mittens; you do wonder how your team are qualified profilers. Word Count: 1,682 A/n: I hope this read well, I feel like it's all over the place. And as a present for hitting 9K followers, sorry for the empty promises or returning, i'll be there, just when you don't expect it. All the love ❤️

You and Spencer have been dating for almost eight months; if you have ever been in a serious relationship - eight months might not be a long time or even a big deal; but it was sort of a big deal because it's eight months of dating this Doctor in secret.

It wasn't because the two of you were ashamed or embarrassed to be out in public, but there was something about the thrill of sneaking around like teenagers. Plus, it was somewhat concerning for a bunch of profilers not to even clock on to the fact that you feel like you and Spencer have been painfully obvious. It doesn't diminish the option that they do know but not getting into your business; but at the end of the day - they're not just a team, they're friends outside of work, and you guys are very close together.

"Any plans for the weekend, pretty boy?" Morgan asked Spencer, who looked up from his paperwork.

"Yeah, (Y/n) is hanging around, planning to try and do a Harry Potter marathon."

You look up upon hearing your name, Morgan looks over to you as you flash a smile and a thumbs up. Morgan simply smiles and turns back to his work. You look at your boyfriend, who stares at you, both of you (promptly) shrugging your shoulders and returning to work.

It was almost a weekly occurrence that one of you two would slip up and make it obvious that you two are dating.

"When did you start wearing hoodies?" Penelope asked Spencer, pulling on the hoodie strings as Spencer swats her hand away.

"It's (Y/n)'s."

"Oh, that's nice of him, I know you can get cold easily."

You stood behind Penelope with a baffled look that she had not connected the dots. Spencer sighs out a chuckle before changing the subject.

"Cute lockscreen."

You looked up from your phone to see JJ next to you with Emily, who peered over to look at your lock screen, which was a picture of you and Spencer with your family dog between the two of you. You could mistake it as a friend picture, but what type of friends have their temples touching and basically cuddling up together?

At this point, you gave up. It was much more funnier to see them be more confused as to why you and Spencer spend so much time together. But, sometimes, you are thankful that you and Spencer can enjoy each other's presence without being teased and hounded by your team. It was nice to have each other and be each other's escape from reality.

"So, Spencer," You hummed, lying in your apartment, which was bigger than his, "I was wondering when you wanted to move in?"

He looks at you, eyes shimmering like a child on Christmas day, his heart is thumping loudly against his chest as he can't help to feel the heat rise to his cheeks. You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, booping his nose as a tease causing Spencer to smile so bashfully.

Your apartment was bigger than his and a lot more cosier; he was most often than not at your place, he had started bringing his stuff over and leaving at yours; slowly he was invading your home, but you loved it.

"I like the idea of that."

You shrugged your shoulders, snuggling closer to your sofa as you looked at him. Beautifully lit under the warm lamp as he read his book, and to you, he had looked like a piece of art, upon seeing him - you couldn't help but smile to yourself; wondering how you got so lucky.

Spencer thinks the world of you, from an outsider, most often not, you are the one to protect him. You were the more threatening-looking one, you were always blunt and sometimes rude, but he still thinks you are one of the most sweetest person he has ever met. You have been there for him, you know him so well, and you've been there on the days he struggled the most. You are so understanding and patient, he couldn't believe you're his boyfriend.

Like Frida Khalo said: 'Take the lover who looks at you like you’re some kind of magic.'

"You're soft," Spencer teased, lying in bed with you, you turn to look at him in the dark, and he can't help but notice that you, once again, have taken his breath away from your darling eyes.

"I'm soft?" You mused out, a slightly humourous tone to your voice, "I am soft in the way the fabric of a tattered blanket is soft. I could be ripped to shreds and still hope someone finds comfort in me."

"You are comforting," He reassures you, you let out a breathy laugh, as you bring your hand to caress his cheek.

"Oh, to be your boy, Spencer Reid," You gently say, sending shivers down his spine, tenderly placing a kiss upon his lips, "Turn over, we gotta sleep and I want to cuddle you.

"I heard that (Y/n) is ill," Morgan says during lunch break, the team sitting about around Spencer's desk.

They had noticed that Spencer have been on his phone more often than not. He looked worried sick and every hour he seemed to be checking his phone; it's not usually like him. The team were sharing concerned looks and usually, the person who could calm him down was off ill.

"Hey, Spence, are you going over to (Y/n)'s later?" JJ inquired as Spencer looked up as he heard your name, "If you don't mind, I'd like to tag along, (Y/n) isn't usually ill and I get worried sick when one of us gets sick."

"Awh," Morgan had a playful tone, "You care about us, JJ?"

"Maybe not with you," JJ playfully snapped back before looking at the young genius with a questioning look, "Well?"

"I mean, I guess?" Spencer finally responded though he debated with himself whether or not to inform you.

"Great!" Rossi says, Spencer did not know that he was listening to the whole conversation, "We can all check up on him!"

"Er.. I don't think-"

"Nonsense, Reid," Rossi interrupted, giving him a look, "You need to learn how to share."

Spencer was rendered speechless before making the decision to message you that he couldn't stop the team from tagging along with him to check up on you.

You had completely forgotten that the team was also coming along with your boyfriend, you had spent the better half of your day lying in front of the television catching up on your series as you battle the winter flu. You hear the door unlock as you tiredly sit up from the sofa.

"Babe?" You called out, though it was hoarse and you tried to clear your throat, but to no avail, you were inevitably going to lose your voice.

"I'm home, baby."

The sound of your boyfriend's voice was so comforting that you slunk back into the comfortable position on the sofa.

"Babe?"

You sat up almost immediately as you realised that was not Spencer's voice, then remembered that he had brought visitors. You internally groaned, not wanting to be putting up with the antic of your team. You slowly got up as you stood in the arch way that stood between the hallway and the living room, the blanket wrapped over you.

"What are you guys doing here?" You croaked out, it was so pitiful, you turned to look at your boyfriend helplessly. He put his hands up in defence.

"I tried to tell them no," You hummed in disapproval as Spencer sighed at your state, "You look worn out."

"'Cause I am."

He gently place a kiss upon your forehead, and you had to stop yourself from letting out a coo. You just couldn't help but slink yourself into the comfort of your boyfriend's arm.

"Hang on, you two are dating?" Emily asked, she had an offended tone and you know why she would be offended.

"I mean, we haven't exactly made it sublet," Spencer says bluntly as you snort, he looks at you with an annoyed expression but that was soon washed away and replaced with a fond expression, "I spend too much time around you."

"You love me, Spence," You teased, a playful twinkle in your eyes.

"Well, why didn't you tell us!" Morgan says afterwards, almost pouting, "I'm your best friend, Reid!"

"Like he said, we haven't made it sublet, we just didn't think we needed to tell anyone, plus Hotch knows."

"Aaron knows?" Rossi asked, surprised that their stoic team leader had not said a word about the pair of you.

"He had caught us making out in the cleaners' closet at work," You answered dryly, "He's known for about five months, we go on double dates with him and Beth every so often."

"Five months?" Penelope exclaimed, it makes sense why Hotch declined the offer to come to check up on you and it makes even bigger sense that he had teased Spencer about it afterwards.

Spencer nodded, ushering you back to the living room so you could rest, "We've been together longer than that, about eight months."

"How?"

"It was after a night out we all had, we got drunk, stupidly confessed our feelings and the rest of history, to put it short."

"Well, I don't want the short story, I want the details," JJ demanded, sitting on the other sofa that was adjacent to you as you sent a glare to Spencer.

"This is your fault," You mumbled, as Spencer rubbed your shoulder, you couldn't really be mad at him.

"You love me really..."

You really did love him and loving him was so easy. You love being his boy and you love to call him yours. Eventually, the rest of the team was going to find out about you two, at least it was now and not when you planned to propose to Spencer down the line - but, Spencer doesn't need to know that, for now anyway.

[midatwrtr]

Turn back time

LE SSERAFIM Sakura x Male Reader

6.6k words

Tags: Fluff & Smut

It was a chilly night of spring when you met Sakura. You were coming home from a late shift and she was sitting in front of your apartment. Your boss decided to abuse his position again by forcing you to work overtime, using some loophole in your contract as an excuse. You didn’t recognize her at first in the dark, she simply looked like a drunk teenager.

You could have ignored her, walked right past her, and everything would have been alright, but somehow, you didn’t. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked her, walking closer. She was wearing a pleaded shirt and jeans, while she used a black cap and black mask to cover her face. You made sure not to get too close, she was still a stranger, who knew what she had under her shirt. 

“Mh? What?” she replied with a surprisingly clear voice.

“Oh, I was just checking if you were okay,” you said carefully. “I mean, you’re sitting here alone, in the middle of nowhere…”

“You’re right, it doesn’t look very good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “So? Did you drink or something?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t have anything,” she said, mortified. “I was just having…” she sighed. “A bad day. That’s all.”

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, the words coming out almost instinctively. You weren't particularly interested, but you understood that she needed someone that listened to her. It was more about offering her a chance to vent than satisfying your own curiosity.

The girl stared at you for a second, dumbfounded.

“I don’t have anything to do tonight anyways,” you added in case she felt guilty.

She thought about it for a second. It was a bit personal but after all, it wasn’t a bad idea. She didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know hers. For all she knew, you were a stranger she could have met on the internet behind an actor’s photo. What were the chances that she’d meet you again? 

“Well…” she started. You crouched down and sat next to her. You could see the moon peaking through the darkened clouds.

“You know, it’s been a rough day,” she said. “It seems like no matter what I do, people always have something to say.”

“Mh, I’m sorry to hear that. Sometimes it does feel like that.”

“Exactly,” she sighed deeply and then she straightened her back. “You know, it’s just so frustrating!” she growled, tensing her hands. “I’ve been doing this for years, and still, there’s always someone saying I’m not doing it right. It’s like they don’t even see how hard I work!”

“That sounds really tough,” you agreed. “People can be so quick to judge.”

“Exactly! They don't see the long hours I put in, the constant pressure to be perfect. They just hear one thing they don't like and suddenly they're experts, telling me how I should do things differently. It's infuriating!

"And the worst part is, sometimes it's not even constructive criticism. It's just mean like they're trying to tear me down. Why do they do that? Can't they see I'm just trying to do what I love? I don't understand why people feel the need to be so harsh!"

“It's tough when people don't see the effort and passion you put into it," you agreed. “But I bet there are still people that love what you do.”

“You’re right, it’s not all that bad. My friends are really supportive and always have been. They remind me why I started this in the first place and keep me grounded.”

“That’s great to hear. It makes a huge difference having people with you.”

“Yes. They're the ones who always believed in me, even when I doubted myself. It's like they see something in me that I sometimes forget” The girl sighed happily. “They're amazing. They are always close to me and help me when it gets too much.”

“It sounds like your friends do a good job of helping you focus on the right things. It's like having a personal cheering squad.”

The girls laughed. “That’s exactly what they are.”

Then she sighed deeply, her demeanor changing. "You know, as supportive as my friends are, I sometimes feel like I'm becoming a burden to them. They're always there for me, listening to my complaints and trying to cheer me up, but I worry I'm dragging them down."

"I doubt they see it that way. Friends are there for the good and the bad times."

"I know, but I can't help but feel guilty. like, how much can they take before they get tired of it?"

"It's natural to feel that way, but real friends don't see you as a burden. They care about you and want to support you, no matter what,” you said. “The important thing is that you’re still working hard. If they see your efforts, they will help you.”

"I hope so,” she said, her voice wavering. “They've never said anything to make me think otherwise, but sometimes I just feel so... needy, I guess. Like, I should be able to handle this on my own and not rely on them so much."

"It sounds like you're being too hard on yourself. Everyone needs support sometimes, and it doesn't make you a burden. It makes you human."

She nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

"If they're there for you now, you've probably been there for them before. It's okay to lean on them. When something happens, you’ll return the favor,” you said. “For example, my friend helped me finish the project. So I bought him a really cool shirt, it was like this Pokemon-themed thing with Charmander and stuff, right? Because he liked Pokemon,” you paused. “But it was two sizes too small.”

The girl giggled. Her laughter bubbled up, bright and infectious.

“God, he looked ridiculous. But it’s alright. He was trying to lose weight anyways, it will motivate him.”

“Yeah, I am sure you did him a favor,” she said joyfully.

“That’s what I am saying!”

The girl recollected herself. "Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear that. It's hard to remember that sometimes, especially when I'm feeling overwhelmed."

You got up, patting your pants off to get rid of the dirt. “Do you want me to help you go back home? It’s kinda late now.”

The girl hesitated for a second. She didn’t know how to answer that question.

“Do you live far away? Do you want me to call a cab?”

“No, it’s not that…” her voice trailed off.

You listened to her silence for a second and understood. “You don’t want to go home, right? How about you stay here for the night? I have a guest room.”

“Well, I don’t want to disturb you…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, it will be just tonight.”

She was a bit hesitant, she didn’t want to impose herself but you were sincere and she accepted the offer. You walked to your apartment, modest and minimal. You didn’t need a lot to live comfortably and you were at the job most of the time anyway.

When she took off her cap and mask, you realized who she was. You chose not to say anything. You didn’t want to scare her away. 

“Are you allergic to anything—?” you asked, you stopped just a moment before saying her name.

“Sakura,” she added. “No, I’m not allergic to anything.”

You quickly made her feel at home, showing her around and offering her a spot at the kitchen table while you prepared a simple meal.

As you cooked, you continued their conversation. She opened up about her life as a singer, and the passion she had for music. You already knew most of it but you wanted to hear it from her, it was much more interesting.

You listened attentively, sharing your own experience at work. It became a healing experience for you. You ate together, enjoying the meal and continuing to talk. You learned about her love for mangas, and how much she played videogames. You were a gamer as well, that’s where most of your money went and why your house was so bare. 

“If I could turn back time…” Sakura said, in the middle of your conversation about her idol life. “I wonder if I’d choose to be an idol again. Maybe I should have become a soloist.”

“Grass is always greener on the other side” you replied. “I’m sure once you’re old, you’ll look back at it and think it was a great experience.”

“I hope so.”

When it got late, you offered her the guest room, fortunately, you kept it clean. She accepted and you said goodnight.

Sakura didn’t feel like a celebrity. You felt like you met a good friend and you wanted to keep it that way. In the morning, you prepared her breakfast and bid her goodbye. You didn’t expect her to come back and neither did she. It was supposed to be a one time thing, to get her mind off.

But a week later, she knocked at the door and you were happy to welcome her.

It started with small exchanges—it was a bit more embarrassing now that you were both conscious of each other. Sakura would sometimes bring her books and discuss them with you, or you would turn on the TV and watch animes together. 

As the days turned into weeks, the conversations grew longer. You talked about her past, your past, your problems. It was a safe space for the both of you, where you could be honest with eachother. Sakura found herself looking forward to these moments with you, your presence becoming a familiar comfort in her life. It became a routine.

Her eyes sparkled everytime she spoke with you and you would always listen to her. You loved the way she spoke with such passion. 

But one day, you had to leave. 

It was your boss again. “I made some arrangements with this company, it’s a big opportunity, you have to leave tomorrow. I already scheduled the flight.” You couldn’t refuse and you didn’t have Sakura’s phone number either. You left in the early morning and didn’t hear from Sakura since.

A week later, you finally came back home. You close the door of your friend’s car and thank him. You take a deep breath, finally the air of your town, you missed it. Taking the stairs, you reach your floor and there she was, standing weakly in front of your door, Sakura.

“Oh my god, Sakura! What are you doing here!” you exclaim.

“You—! You’re back! You asshole why didn’t you say anything!” Sakura rushes to your arms and hugs you tightly. “God, I thought something happened to you! I thought the loansharks kidnapped you.”

“It was just a work trip,” you say. “And sorry I didn’t say anything, I didn’t have your number.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll give it to you right now,” she hurries you. You take out your phone and add her digits. 

“Is that your stage outfit?” you ask her.

“Yeah, I rushed here. I didn’t really feel like changing, I wanted to see you,” she says. Her sentence shocks you. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to it. You thought about all the little things—how she always seemed to know you were having a rough day, how she always came to you first to vent about her troubles.

You smiled but were worried. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about Sakura in that way before. You did plenty of times, but there was always some reason not to pursue it.

“But you didn’t even know that I’d be here,” you comment.

“I felt it.”

“You have a sixth sense, don’t you?” you laugh as you open the door for her.

With a quickly made dinner, you have time to catch up with Sakura. She had a lot to talk about, not only about her members but also all the other idols she met during the shows. She had a lot to vent about, people aren’t as nice as they look.

Sakura offers to clean up the rest of the dinner, which isn’t a lot since you have already cleaned most of the dishes, and in the meantime, you go and take a shower. Cleaning up the remnants of your hastily prepared dinner, Sakura tosses the scraps into the trash bin before wiping the table. Once everything is tidy again, she heads towards the bathroom to take off her makeup.

However, while passing by the bedroom, she finds you lying sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. An odd mix of emotions courses through her veins—it is a combination of fondness and happiness. You look so cute carelessly snoozing with that sleepy face of yours. She wants to join you, to touch you. She wants to do what she sees in the shows, to hold your hand, hug you while you sleep, and kiss you.

Sakura isn’t sure if her feelings are right, especially after everything that has happened to her. She knows to trust you, but to love you? Is she allowed such a luxury? Her mind tells her to steer clear, to not get mixed up in such a troublesome relationship, but she is stubborn.

Her back shivers. Sakura can’t tear her gaze away from your sleeping face. Your soft breaths are like music to her ears, soothing and comforting.

Then you wake up. You look at Sakura through your tired eyes and smile. “Oh, sorry. I fell asleep, didn’t I?” you say, laughing, and Sakura exchanges a smile. “Say, aren’t you tired, Kkura?”

“Mh,” she hums. “A little bit. But you must be—” she trails off, unable to finish her sentence.

“Then join me,” you say, interrupting her. She opens her eyes a little wider as she values your offer. She could find countless reasons not to, but instead, she settles for a place beside you. She awkwardly lies down on the bed, slightly curling her legs and resting her arms close to herself. Her eyes never leave yours, watching your welcoming smile.

“I really missed you, Sakura,” you say. You laugh from the embarrassment, clenching your eyes. “I got so used to your presence that I keep going back to my bags thinking I left something at home.” You pause to take a breath. “I guess it was you.”

Sakura is surprised. She listens to you silently, feeling that warm sensation inside her chest slowly expanding to the rest of her body. “I missed you too,” she confesses.

“The bulgogi at the cafeteria just doesn’t taste the same, you know?” You laugh. Feeling the mattress dip beside her, Sakura becomes aware of your presence. The wave of heat coursing through her veins makes her heart race wildly. Carefully unfolding her legs, she slides closer to you, nestling herself against your warmth, finally accepting your invite. Sakura catches her breath as your arm slips around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“This feels nice,” she says, and you giggle. It is a gentle embrace, completely different from the coldness that she had to endure for the week you were away. She simply lies there, letting the familiar scent of you envelop her, calming her frayed nerves.

“Don’t you want to change into some more comfortable clothes?” you ask Sakura.

“Mh? You don’t want to see me in it?” Sakura replies in a light tone. “You don’t like it?” she teases you.

You keep brushing her soft blonde hair. “No, it’s not that. I think you could be more comfortable in something else… but I don’t mind it at all. Besides,” you swallow your saliva, “it looks really good on you.”

“Oh? How good?” she coos, moving her hair away from the red top. You remember your reaction from earlier: how you choke at the sight of her tight top hugging her pearly white chest, how her toned midriff peeks from her gray pleated skirt, and how all the blood leaves your head. But you can’t say it, of course, and settle for a “Very good.”

“Come on, be more specific!” Sakura whines in annoyance.

“Ten out of ten!”

“You always say that,” she says.

“Because it’s true,” you retort.

“You know what I mean…” she says with a softer tone, looking at you with her typical puppy eyes. There you go. She plays with your feelings again. What are you supposed to feel? Your mind is a mess. She is so adorable, yet so hot.

You sigh. “Well…” you start. “I think you’re terribly hot. You make my head spin every time I see you. And today, you are unbelievable.”

Sakura clings to you tighter, taking refuge in your chest. Her breath comes in short, needy gasps; who knew words could be so piercing? She knows she wants you to say it, but she doesn’t know how it’d feel like.

Shifting ever so slightly, she presses her lower body against yours, finding comfort in her arousal.

“When you say it like that…” Sakura whispers. “Is it too much?”

“Too much for me to handle, that’s for sure.”

Sakura rubs herself against you, her hips moving slowly, riding your thigh. She starts moaning, low groans choked in her throat. She grows more desperate. Your words were turning her on. She wants you to see more of her, she wants your eyes planted on her body, she wants more. Sakura knew this was going to be a mistake, that she should stop before crossing the line, but she couldn’t resist anymore.

“Mh,... is that all?” She asks you once more.

“I have nothing nice to say, believe me,” you admit and Sakura understood perfectly. You finally notice her movements on her leg and you are just as aroused as her. At the same time, you are worried if her intentions were truly honest and if she wasn’t being carried away by the heat of the moment. You knew how impulsive Sakura was.

Swallowing hard, Sakura meets your gaze, refusing to look away. She could see the concern etched on your face, the worry mirrored in her eyes. For a brief moment, she contemplates pushing you away… and then she decides against it. Her hips don’t stop rubbing against you. She keeps holding you. Sakura wanted to know what you felt and what she felt.

Closing the remaining distance between you two, she captures your lips in a firm resolute kiss. 

Caught in the heat of her excitement, you couldn’t do anything else but kiss her back. Moaning against your lips, Sakura loses herself in the feeling of your lips. Rolling on top of you, her arms around your neck, she keps kissing you deeper and deeper. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath your fingers, a stark contrast to the rough texture of your own.

Pulling away slightly, she looks into your eyes. She could see her own pure raw desire reflected back in your eyes. Without hesitation, she guides your hand between her thighs. “Are you sure, Sakura?” you ask one last time.

“I am.” You could feel the moistness around her shorts. She invites you into her panties, into herself. Your fingers trace lazy circles around her swollen clit. She grips your shoulders tightly as the pleasure scatters through her legs. 

Arching her back, Sakura gasps as your fingers effortlessly slipped inside her wet folds. Her muscles tensed and relaxed, spasms of pleasure, drawing you deeper. 

Sakura lets out a high-pitched whine. “Mh!” You hit a sensitive spot inside of her. Waves of pure bliss ripple throughout her body. Her grip on your shoulders tightens painfully as you continue to finger her pussy.

Sakura’s mind spirals out of control leaving her breathless moans. 

“Can I see it?” you ask softly. Painting heavily, Sakura glances down for a moment at her spread legs, catching the sight of your fingers buried inside of her. She shudders at the sight of the messiness of her juices. They coated your hand, dripping down to your wrist and forearm.

She forces herself to meet your eyes to nod quietly. You quickly take of her shorts and underwear and take a good look of her wet lips. Gasping at the cool air, Sakura stared at you with worry as she was revealing her most intimate parts to you. She finds herself even more aroused than before.

With both hands at either side of her vagina, you part her slightly. You look at the droplets of wetness leaving her hole, sliding down her pink flesh, the warm scent invading your nostrils. You take a moment to observe how her muscles twitched but you couldn’t resist any longer. You open your mouth and dip your tongue inside of her.

“I love how you taste, Sakura,” you muffle. “You’re just as good as I imagined.”

Your words make her moan harder. Every finger of lower body tighten at the new sensation. You lick her slowly, spreading your tongue out on her pussy, licking from the bottom to the top, pausing on her clit. You send waves of pleasure to her head, making it difficult for her to remain still. Her legs clamp around your head. Her soft thighs just make it more enjoyable.

You eat her with voracity, making your head up and down. Sakura helps you by stretching her lips further apart with her hands, giving you full access to every inch of her folds. Her walls clench around your tongue, contracting involuntarily. 

You stop for a moment to swallow the liquids piled on your tongue. Sakura can’t wait a single second. “Please continue,” she pleads.

“You want it that bad?” you say with satisfaction.

“Yes,” she admits. “Please, eat me out.” “I will,” you conclude and go back to her pussy. This time, you wrap your lips on her clit and start sucking it softly. You don’t give her time to adjust as your fingers enter her at the same time, fingering her helpless hole. 

Sakura goes crazy. She begs for release. “Ah! Fuck! Don’t stop!” Her fingers dig into your shoulders, leaving bruises all around your back. Lewd wet noises sloppily resonate through your mouth. Moaning your name nonstop, she is pushed more and more to the edge. The orgasm approaches rapidly. With a feral growl, she explodes, wracked by wave after wave of ecstatic pleasure.

Arching her back, she clutches your head, pulling you deeper inside her. Thick liquid drips from her swollen pussy, thick cum flow right into your mouth. Breathless and spent, she collapses back onto the pillows, utterly exhausted but satisfied.

You continue by softly eating up her remaining cum. Watching in disbelief as you eagerly lap up the sticky remnants of their passion, Sakura's breath hitches in her throat. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” you said and laughed.

“I didn’t know I could do that either,” she repeated, giggling and covering her blushed face. 

Panting heavily, Sakura lays still sprawled across the bed, her body still pulsing with residual with the residual kickback of the orgasm. When you nuzzle your face against her exposed stomach, she moans softly, arching her back invitingly. Her leg itch, the shivers discend to her core. "Mmm…" she murmurs, begging you to continue.

Her fingers brush through your hair. You leave small pecks and smooches on her tone midriff, trailing your lips along the grooves of her abs. Your hands hold her hips, lifting her arched body closer to your face. Her heart swells with tenderness, she’s grateful, you truly care for her and want to make her happy. 

Your head further ascends along her body, stopping at the hem of her top. You look up to her, to her flushed cheeks and clouded eyes, panting heavily. “Can I see them?” you ask her.

She nods, “Yes…” Sakura then sits up to take of her top. It’s a bit complicated, she raises her arms and slowly pulls it off. When she takes of her last layer, you hold your breath. The tube bra finally slips off and her breasts fall down. They are beautiful.

Though not as big as they looked under the clothes, the shape was a lot more inviting. They were slightly saggy, drooping to either sides, with rounded nipples and beautiful pink nipples. There was a mole right on her left breast that you had never noticed. 

You look at her eyes just to be sure and gently grope her breasts. She lets out a small moan, bringing her hands back to open her chest to you. Blushing deeply, Sakura looks down your eager expression, her heart racing. She’s surprised at how excited you were and it made her even more aroused.

“Do you really like them that much even if they’re small?” she asked.

“They are perfect, Sakura,” you said. “And they could’ve been 100 different shapes but I’d still love them, because they are yours.”

Sakura smiled and locked her arms around your back. She's grown accustomed to your touch now and she couldn’t be happier. Her nipples harden beneath your fingers and she struggles to keep her composure. "It’s okay, keep going..." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rapid beat of her heart.

Leaning in closer, she captures your lips in a heated kiss but you don’t stop fondling her soft breasts. She falls back to the bed and her boobs fall to the sides. Your hands collect them back up and you continue to play with her mounds.

Her body trembles as you continue to knead and tease her sensitive breast, alternating between gentle strokes and firmer pinches. Sakura bites down on her lip, but she doesn’t hide her moans, you love them. 

She had never felt so exposed yet so safe before. She wanted your hands to explore every inch of your body, she wanted you to know every part of her. And now she wanted to see you as well.

“Are you going to take off your clothes?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered, only now realizing she was the only one naked. You made it quick, not wanting to make her wait too long. You were a bit embarrassed to show her your body, especially since it wasn’t nearly as toned as hers. However, if Sakura didn’t care than neither should you.

You were also worried about your size. Your hands were both covering your crotch, the head of your penis peeking between your fingers.

Sakura flashed a seductive smile and got closer to you. “Are you really going to hide that pretty cock of yours?” she asks you. Her hand grab your fingers and she peels off your hands. She licks her lips and palms your balls, holding your cock out right on her right hand. She silently looks at it for a second, looking at how hard it was, standing so tall just for her. That’s what she loved. You were hard for her.

And she was wet for you.

“Sit down,” she told you and you obliged, keeping your legs open. With her hand still under your balls, she raised your cock higher, giving her full access to the whole length. And then she was blowing you. With a hand at the base, she wraps your head with her wet mouth, beginning to move her head in slow, circular motions. Her eyes stare right back at you, with her sunken lips, looking for your approval.

Your flushed face is enough for Sakura. She increases the pace of her actions, sucking harder and faster on your rock hard penis. The muscles in her mouth stretch as she takes you deeper than ever before, her cheeks hollowing out with each passing thrust. A thin stream of saliva drips down from the corner of her mouth, mixing with your precum and forming a sticky trail along her jawline. 

She tries her best but she couldn’t take you into her throat. The pleasure was still enough for you to roll back your eyes. Continuing with her sucking and bobbing, the mix of fluids foamed up to a frothy white substance, sloppily falling down her mouth, to her hands, to your crotch.

Feeling you pulling her head down, thrusting your penis roughly into her throat, Sakura gasps for air. Her gag reflex kicks in momentarily, causing her to gag and choke briefly, but she quickly regains control, continuing to work her mouth. 

It could have been only a couple minutes but you couldn’t last any longer. It all came so fast, you couldn’t even warn Sakura that you were already filling her mouth with cum. Your release startled her, she opened her eyes and jolted back, letting the cum spill out to her hands. 

You continued letting out a couple more splurts before you could stop, however you were still twitching maniacally. “Oh my god, sorry Sakura,” you said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed it off. “That’s exactly the reaction that I wanted. Now let me taste this…”

Sakura scooped up all the semen that had escaped her mouth and poured it back inside. With a slurp, the last strings of cum left her palms. She gulped it down and showed you her empty mouth. She let out a satisfied giggle, watching your dumbfounded face. 

“Well, look like that got you hard again, huh?” Sakura said watching your penis coming back to life. “You’re so naughty.”

“You’re the one that just—look at what you just did,” you retorted.

“You’re right…” she agreed. “So? What are you gonna do no? Are you gonna put it in?”

“Do you want to?” you asked.

“I do.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Sakura laid down on the bed, taking your place. You looked at her, her hair sprawled on the white sheets, her pearly white skin covered in her shiny sweat, her perfectly round breasts drooping down her chest, her creamy thighs. She looked like an angel. You couldn’t believe that you were going to do it with her.

You weren’t the only one. Sakura didn’t want anyone else but you, she’s been thinking about you this whole time and this was going to be the seal of her love.

Sakura opened her legs and let you get closer. With her hand, she helped guiding yourself inside. You sank in with ease. You were forced to blink rapidly and grit your teeth at the new sensation. It was incredibly tight, completely wet, and burning hot.

Your penis stretched her open. She moaned and contorted her face as her vagina opened up to you. Her hand gripped down your forearm with all her might.

“God…” she sighed.

“Are you okay, Sakura?” you asked worryingly. “Does it hurt? We can stop if you want.”

“No, no, it’s not that, we can keep going,” she said. “I just have to get used to it. It’s a bit uncomfortable, that’s all.”

She breathed deeply and pulled on your shoulder, “Please, slowly.” 

“Alright,” you said. You contracted all of your muscles to be as slow as possible, as gentle as you could. You let yourself sink, a millimeter at a time, being extremely careful not to let out any sudden movement. Sakura’s face relaxed as you went in, she stared blankly, giving all her attention to the feeling between her legs.

“Okay, like that… alright, that’s it,” she let you know. “I’m good now. I think.”

“Tell me what to do,” you said.

“Try thrusting it a bit,” she said. You nodded and guided your hips back before slowly thrusting your penis back inside. 

“Oh…” Sakura moaned. She didn’t look in pain, you were glad. “Yep, that’s good. That’s really good. You can keep going.”

You nodded again and started thrusting at a regular pace, still slow. 

Sakura flips around, grabbing the pillow in front of her. You plunge yourself back inside and using your whole weight, you stretch her to the point of bulging her belly. 

Gripping the sheets tightly, Sakura cries out in both pain and ecstasy as you brutally claim her pussy. Her vagina accepts you, stretching wide to accommodate your whole length. Each forceful thrust sends waves of pleasure rippling through her body. 

Her moans become more and more primal. She cries out in ecstasy, muffling the screams into her pillow.

Unable to contain your growing hunger, you move relentlessly at the roughest pace possible, trying to satisfy your lust. Your movements become increasingly frantic, punctuated by your grunts. Every brutal thrust fills her to the brim, making her feel used and ravaged. The bed shakes violently beneath you as your passion escalates, leaving the once pristine linens drenched in sweat and other fluids.

Despite the intensity of your assault, Sakura doesn't fight it—she loves it.

The new pace costs you a lot. After a minute, you’re tired and way closer than before. You breath heavily, slowing down to give the both of you a rest. Sakura is panting and couldn’t even keep her head up.

“Sorry, Sakura, could you turn around another time?” you asked between your heavy breaths.

“Sure…” she replies weakly. “It will be better for me too.”

You groan quietly as you slide back into her. The rest of her body is stretched out on the bed, she’s way too tired to do anything else. You grab her hips and raise them in a prone stance so you can go deeper. It works, she immediately tightens around you so intensely that you feel like you might climax instantly. Her hands clutch the edge of the bed, her moans are free and loud as her face is no longer buried in the cushions. It's clear that she's on the brink of orgasm, and you continue to thrust into her as hard as possible.

You lean forward to place kisses on her neck and shoulder, your body pressing on top of hers as you slow down the pace to a grind. You want her to feel loved and worshipped. She tries to look up at you but the pleasure is so immense that she can only focus on your blurry silhouette. Sakura is so lightheaded that she her words sound drunk and splurred. 

“I—I’m gonna cum,” she says. “Please I want you to cum too!”

A few more thrusts before the dam breaks, her squirt flooding your bed as she moans your name much louder than before.

“I love you!” she screams.

You don’t stop thrusting however as you are also very close to reaching your orgasm. Wrap your hands around her small waist and you can feel her toned abs contracting and relaxing as the spasms of her orgasm keep milking you. Her squirt floods the grooves of her abs, pooling into a shiny mess. 

“I’m really gonna cum now,” you says. “I’m gonna cover you in cum!”

“Do it, please!”

“Fuck!” There was no way you were going to last any millisecond longer and with one final thrust, you spill everything you have been saving on her abs. Ribbons after ribbons of thick sperm cover her tummy, her breasts and some even get to her face.

Sakura lays there, exhausted. She wipes the cum of her abs, playing with it, looking at how the strings of thick cum stretch between her fingers. “It’s really warm,” she comments, with satisfaction. “I made you cum a lot, huh?”

“I thought I was going to pass out,” you admit.

She laughs.“Me too.”

You inhale for a moment. “Let me get you some towels.” You get off the bed and walk to the closet. Only then you notice how sore your legs truly were and you have to hold the door to stand up. You grab a couple from the stack of towels and hand them to Sakura.

“Here you go,” you say and help her stand up. Sakura takes them and slowly wipes her whole body. You could feel some of the remaining blood feeding into your penis but you were too tired to do anything else. So you sat down on the bed, besides her.

“You got work tomorrow?” you asked Sakura.

“No, nothing.”

“That’s good,” you say. “Otherwise the others would have scolded me. I can’t imagine what Yunjin would do to me.”

Sakura lets out a breathy laugh, amused but weary. Her shoulders shake gently, and her eyes though tired, sparkled. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Thanks,” you said and gave her a smile. “Let’s get cleaned up now.”

The two of you sluggishly move around the bathroom. Sakura must have gotten used to feeling tired after all the dance practices but emotional exhaustion was something else. It wasn’t just the sore muscles, she was exhausted from the ecstasy. 

She splashes cool water on her face, and quickly takes off her makeup. You brush your teeth with your eyes half-closed, the toothbrush moving lazily. You exchange tired smiles through the mirror, knowing you are the reason for the other’s tiredness. 

Once done, you shuffle back to the bedroom and drop on the bed.

Sat beside you, disheveled and natural, Sakura looked unreal. Bathed by the pool of the moonlight, she only sat still, but your heart couldn’t stop pounding. She was your world.

You took a deep breath when you remembered her words earlier. “I love you.” That’s what she said. “I love you.” Sure, you were in the heat of the moment, the adrenaline was pumping harder than anything else and she probably didn’t even mean it. Maybe it was a “I love how you make me feel.” Maybe it was just another way to praise you. But what if it wasn’t?

You had to know. “By the way…” you start. You gulp down. “Did you say ‘I love you’ before?”

Realizing what she said, Sakura’s face pales slightly. For some reason, she felt scared, and she wanted to cover her face. “Oh, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, I do care about you, but—”

With your heart pounding, you interrupt her. You try to talk to her as gently as possible. “Sakura, wait. Did you mean it? Because if you did, it’s okay.”

Sakura hesitates, she can’t look at your eyes, then nods. “Yeah, I did mean it. I’ve been trying to keep it to myself, but… After this week,” she sighs with frustration. She couldn’t believe what she was saying right now. “Fuck, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just never had the courage to say it. I don’t want to lose you, I care about you too much.”

Your eyes soften as she talked. “Sakura, I feel the same way. Every time we’re together, I feel so happy, so alive. I didn’t want to say it either, because of the whole situation we got going on. But now that you said it… I won’t hide it.”

Tears well up in Sakura’s eyes, she’s relieved. So relieved. “Really? You feel that way too?”

Sakura stands up and jumps to hug you. You almost fall but you catch yourself with a foot. Her face is against yours, cheek to cheek, you can feel her tears run down your skin. “You have no idea how happy this makes me!”

You sat hand in hand, letting Sakura calm down as she wiped her tears. “You know that time that I told you I wanted to turn back time?”

“Yeah, it was the first time we met.”

“Mh, I thought about it and I wouldn’t change anything. Because I’ve got to meet you.”

You laugh. “God, how did I get so lucky to have you, Sakura. I love you!”

“I love you too!”

THE END

Written, 13 July 2024 - 18 July 2024

[tododeku-or-bust]

could you elaborate a bit on that post abt (not) wearing headphones in public/playing your phone out loud? i was under the idea that it was nice to not play stuff aloud bc ppl might have migraines or be sound avoidant, but didn't realize i might just be seeing it from a white perspective, and id love to learn more

All right! First, check this link out: Xochitl does a far more eloquent job of explaining the idea than I would:

I assume that you're specifically honing in on my tag about the "white right of comfort".

Okay, so here's the thing. You're allowed to find public noise annoying. I too, find public TikToks and music annoying! And if you have migraines and such, I can understand how it would be impolite and inconvenient.

But what you're NOT allowed to do, is feel entitled to the public and prioritizing your OWN comfort in it over everyone else to the point of DEMANDING that it conforms to you or it's "bad". Especially when there are things you as an individual can do to prevent this discomfort.

While this gross sense of entitlement is very first world American in nature, it is extremely White American in nature because white Americans actually have the social power to enforce what they believe is the "right" thing based on their own standards.

For many cultures around the world and for many people of color, noise in the community is a GOOD thing. It's part of being a community. I feel safer if the people around me feel safe enough to be outside, to exist and to be, visibly in public.

And you got to understand, while many white people think they're genuinely in the right for believing that being loud on public transit or in the public is worth enforcing as a "bad" thing, people of color have literally already been killed for it. A Black teenager was shot in the face for playing music that a white man didn't like. A Black mentally ill man was murdered in front of EVERYBODY on a train because he was having a mental breakdown. This sort of policing ALREADY HAPPENS to us. Hell, even white gays with any sense of community should be aware of how queer gatherings would be shut down for "noise" (when in reality it was bc it was homophobia).

And now people want me to empathize that YOU'RE oppressed by... noise? On Public Transit?? IN PUBLIC?? Kiss my ass lmao.

I've been on trains where a man was legit growling at me like he wanted me dead. Another i saw Teens high on crack. Another where people beg and people sleep and people listen to music. And you know what I did? I turned my OWN music up and went on my way. Because at the end of the day, the only person I control is me!

And if people were REALLY concerned about others welfare, they would COMMUNICATE. no one is willing to say "hey, I have a headache, do you mind-" bc they're afraid of the rejection, so it's easier to demand "well EVERYONE SHOULD BE LIKE ME". Mhm. Learn to confront your issues. But you're not "unsafe" bc music. You're just annoyed, and you'll get over it.

In summary it really gives me "I can give you something to cry about" energy. Bc y'all swear y'all don't understand the existence of an HOA but here yall are replicating the same Karen behaviors, and y'all don't even realize (or maybe even care) how racist you sound. But why would you lmao, that makes you uncomfortable! And damnit, you have a right to comfort!!

[nouearth]

my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Always

A/N: got this idea based off a tiktok I watched last night. Basically very slow burn kinda love and Natasha being a bit of a stubborn meanie at the start.

Prompt: After a breakup, Natasha is even more miserable than usually, letting her anger out on everyone around her including you. What happens when you finally tell her how you have been feeling for years?

tags/tw: cursing, angst, meany nat, mention of violence, mention of blood, mention of gunshot, slight mention of smut at the end, mention of alcohol

word count: 4.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

Thunder cracks through the sky loudly, lightening striking seconds later, as you make your way towards the gym, ready for another day at the Avengers compound. From afar you can already hear the grunting of some of your fellow team members and you can't help but smirk, assuming Natasha was beating their asses just like she usually would, whenever training the recruits or one of the OG Avengers as you called them would get on her nerves and provoke her, only in order to land on the floor seconds later, underestimating the Black Widow as always.

,,Back off Romanoff'' one of the recruits yells, catching your attention as you walk inside, watching the tight grip the redhead has on him, causing him to squirm and try to wiggle in order to escape her grasp.

Your eyes narrow, seeing her in her black uniform, her red hair flowing freely despite the braids. And you instantly feel the shift from her usual demeanour, that she seemed much colder today, much fiercer and more ruthless. Natasha was certainly badass, moody even, sometimes reminding you of an angry teenager. But having known her for years, long before the Avengers and everything that followed after, you knew how caring she truly was, how she would never hurt anyone intentionally other than if they deserved it. How she was the most loyal one on the team, willing to take her last breath for any of you at any given moment. How she always looked out for the team on missions, always putting them first and herself second.

And truth to be told, Natasha had been irritated lately, snapping more often, lashing out, her patience wearing thinner than usual. You had tried a few times to break through to her, given your friendship and how long you had known each other but she never faltered. Hearing from some of the guys her relationship wasn't going too well but never prying, wanting her to come to you whenever she was ready.

,,Give him a break Nat'' you chuckle, watching the younger recruit struggle still and the others watching both in awe and terrified at the same time, worrying they may be next.

,,What? you want a go?'' she questions, gesturing her head towards you and you can't help but shrug your shoulders, the invitation sounding tempting.

,,Sure go ahead Romanoff'' you tease, the young recruit finally escaping her and curling up behind some of the others. With a proud smirk, you approach her where she is standing, catching a glimpse of her green eyes and seeing both the anger and sadness in them, worrying what had happened, what had upset her in this way.

Before you can even react, her fists lands on your cheek, causing your jaw to throb and you know you should have seen that one coming, considering everything. You successfully dodge the next one, catching her leg with your hand that came flying towards you. It was a battle neither of you could win, the two of you growing up in the Red Room together, each of you made into their own spy and assassin. The same strength, the same tactics, the same mental willpower and capability to endure even the greatest of pains and torture.

Yet, Natasha was a little stronger always, her having taught you as soon as she joined SHIELD and eventually the Avengers, bringing you along as she knew you could be beneficial. ,,What's going on?'' you whisper as you lean in a little but before she responds, her right hook hits you again, causing you to see stars for a minute. Her arm quickly wraps around your neck, before she has you flying to the floor, the recruits watching both in anticipation and shock. ,,Class dismissed for today'' you manage to somehow mutter out and before Natasha can object, they are quick to leave, figuring Miss Romanoff was in no mood today, especially not either of them pissing her off the way they usually would.

It takes a minute for you to catch your breath and despite often training with Natasha and showing the recruits your skills, you had a hard time hurting her, knowing she got beaten up on missions plenty but not wanting her to ever hurt or be in pain. And so you always took it gentle, making sure to put on a show of course but never hurting her. And Nat had always been the same, barely ever hurting you in the process of this but today she was ruthless, not even herself, much more the Black Widow than her usual self, the sunshine with the brightest smile behind the mask of a badass assassin and Avenger.

,,Tasha what the fuck'' you plead, your eyes meeting her as you try to stabilise on your now shaky legs. ,,What's wrong?'' you try again but she ignores you, so lost in her thoughts that she hits you yet again and you wonder whether she was so lost in her thoughts right now, she may genuinely see you as an enemy or even a punching bag at the gym. In a swift motion you manage to send her to the floor this time, quickly stepping away and out of the ring before she could charge at you again. ,,Hey.. calm down'' you try again, throwing her a bottle of water that she catches as soon as she stands on her feet again. ,,What is going on with you?'' you try again, now actually worrying about her as you hadn't seen her like this before other than in the Red Room.

,,I'm fine Y/N'' she mutters before charging past you, ignoring your presence, the bleeding of your nose and the bruises that would surely form soon. You can't help but roll your eyes at her antics, grabbing some water yourself before leaving, cleaning yourself up before the mission later on today and the debriefing that was scheduled over lunch in two hours. You manage to fit in a quick shower and a nap before changing into your uniform, grabbing the necessary things you would need incase it would be overnight, despite it supposedly only taking a few hours but you never know being an Avenger and saving the world from the bad people out there.

As soon as you join the others they stare at you in confusion before you take a seat, Clint handing you a slice of pizza with a reassuring smile. ,,What the hell happened to you Y/LN?'' Tony remarks and you can't help but glance at Natasha who almost sits frozen at the other end of the table, avoiding your gaze as she had seen and realised the damage she had done as soon as you walked in. ,,Just training'' you chuckle, acting as if it was nothing but the others share knowing glances, already having heard from the recruits what had happened as they really couldn't keep anything to themselves.

,,Anyway this mission'' he carries on rambling and you can't help but shut out their voices, focusing solely on the woman sitting at the other end of the table. She had changed into her mission uniform, her hair in those beautiful braids again, her eyes looking the most beautiful shade of green despite the sadness in them and you still wonder what had happened.

Before you know it, you find yourself on the Quinjet as it speeds through the afternoon sky, Natasha of course insisting on controlling it and you simply stay in the back, strapping yourself in one of the seats and waiting to get to your mission area. It's when Clint takes a seat beside you that you snap out of your thoughts. ,,She's got one hell of a right hook'' he gestures towards your black eye and bruised nose and you can't help but chuckle. ,,She does'' you admit and he gives you that half proud half sad dad look that you both hated and adored about him. ,,Do you know what's going on with her?'' you whisper, not wanting her or the others to hear.

He pauses for a moment, always having been close to her and despite not trusting anyone else with this, he knew the two of you knew each other even better, even longer and knowing he can trust you with this. ,,They broke up'' he admits and your eyes widen, having heard about Natasha's relationship problems with her partner and occasionally even providing your shoulder for her to cry on, despite it more being her pacing around the room and muttering in angry Russian. ,,Oh I- I had no idea, what happened?'' you ask but he simply shrugs, this being all the information he managed to get from Natasha.

,,She's left a few weeks ago actually but it only seems to hit her harder these last few days'' he admits and you nod understandingly, finally putting the pieces together as Natasha couldn't stand the thought of losing someone, the thought of someone abandoning her as her lie had been filled with so much uncertainty and not a lot of predictability so far. In all honesty, you had never really liked Natasha's partner, only tolerating her but never really thinking they truly matched all that well but you had been supportive of course, even agreeing on double dates with random recruits and them in order to make your longest friend to date happy and the only person you truly count as family.

You take another glance at her, seeing the determination in her eyes as she lands the Quinjet with so much ease, getting you to your destination safe and sound. You nod at Clint thankfully, your eyes signalling him you would keep this information safe but grateful nevertheless as at least you know what she must be feeling now. As you carefully enter enemy grounds with the others, you go over the goal one more time.

One of Tony's and the Avengers enemies had abducted one of your recruits on one of their team's mission, needing both the person responsible and the recruit back safe and sound. Both you and Natasha are on duty to rescue the recruit, the others needing to find the guy Tony had been after for years, ideally hacking into his technology to make the whole thing a little easier for him and you in the future, as their weapons always turned up somewhere in the world causing some kind of chaos.

The silence between you and Natasha is heavy as you move silently towards the basement of this place, JARVIS directing you over your earpiece. Neither of you can talk, Natasha's guilt causing for her to be unable to speak and you both feeling upset and sorry for her, not knowing which words would be right. ,,This way'' she eventually gestures and with your guns aimed you push open a large old iron door, exposing the recruit, strapped into a seat, beaten and bruised but conscious. ,,Oh thank you so much'' he sighs in relief, as Natasha undoes the cuffs and you help him to his feet, checking for any severe injuries but not being able to find any. ,,Let's get you out of here'' you offer and he takes your hand as you lead him through the same corridor you and Natasha had entered through.

,,Incoming'' JARVIS informs you and you manage to push the recruit behind you, not wanting him to get injured further. Natasha is quick to take the first couple of them out before you step in, sending half of them flying across the basement, their weapons echoing loudly through the silent hideout. It's not until another wave of them comes in, when Natasha again loses her temper, fighting most of them off by herself despite you trying your best to fight them off alongside her. One of them draws his weapon right at her head, making both you and the recruit freeze.

,,Go on then shoot motherfucker'' she curses, her Russian accent thick as his gun is aimed right at her forehead. He cocks his gun but before he has any chances of doing anything, you fire your gun, causing him to drop to the floor. His blood sprays all over you, causing you to flinch a little, not from the encounter but from Natasha's ruthless behaviour. In silence, the two of you follow her back to the others, having informed them of your success, the others already having the guy Tony wanted tied up on the Quinjet and having all the necessary information that Tony required.

Clint flys the Quinjet this time, wanting to give Natasha a break and the two of you sit in complete silence, the other Avengers taking care of the recruit, tending to his cuts and bruises and making sure the other guy is still out cold, at least until they would arrive at the compound. ,,You alright there?'' Steve questions as he walks past you with a first aid kit, seeing the state of your face and your uniform. ,,All fine, not my blood'' you assure and he can't help but chuckle, giving you a comforting pat on the back before carrying on with what he was doing.

She doesn't speak and you so wish she would just say a single word, explain herself, her anger, let out the emotions she is clearly struggling with. You had never seen her so reckless before, despite knowing she probably wouldn't have let him shoot her, always having one of her Black Widow poses ready in order to drop him to the floor even with a gun pointed at her face and mere seconds to spare. She had never engaged like this before, let alone talk to any of the enemies she would beat and kick senseless. It had taken you off guard, seeing her so close to danger, the thought of something happening to her causing your whole body to tremble, to react quick, too quick perhaps as you never usually shot any targets on sight like this, mostly leaving them unconscious as the Avengers are many things but not ruthless killers. Usually, after a mission like this the recruits would wipe up the area, bringing everyone in and guiding them to the right authorities so that they could deal with them. The thought of someone's blood on your hands sends your memories right back to your time at the Red Room, how much you had killed, the innocence in their eyes before you did, despite your mind being controlled by them.

And you would easily kill for Natasha, having loved her from one of the first days of laying eyes upon her, never saying anything as you never wanted to ruin what you had. But lately you don't recognise the person sitting beside you in silence anymore. Eventually, you close your eyes, fully awake but wanting to calm your nerves down, knowing if you so much as opened your mouth your emotions would get the better off you, causing you to lash out at her and maybe say things you would regret afterwards.

The return to the compound is quick, debriefing even quicker, Tony happy with the results and the guys simply wanting to get showered and changed, ready for a night of pizza, video games and beers. Natasha storms off and despite your gut telling you to leave her be, you can't help but follow her. ,,Nat'' you try as you sprint down the hallway, and despite her acknowledging you, she continues storming into her room. You consider leaving her be but your heart aches seeing her like this and so you follow her to her room, the all too familiar room where until her relationship, you spent many nights in together, comforting each other, watching movies together and reminiscing about the old times together.

,,What Y/N?'' she snaps as the door shuts loudly behind you two. The redhead turns around, reaching one of the liquor bottles before pouring herself a drink, chugging it quicker than you can begin to speak.

,,Natasha what the hell is going on with you?'' you snap, your voice betraying you a little due to the slight quiver.

She sighs, pouring herself another drink before shrugging ,,Nothing, I'm fine''.

,,You're not fine Natasha'' you snap, your eyebrows darting in frustration and fists clenching to the extend of your knuckles turning white.

,,What makes you think I'm not fine?'' she snaps, now turning to you, her green eyes locking right onto yours and showing the annoyance in them and that all she wanted was for you to get out.

,,I remember what fine means remember?'' you blurt out and she suddenly seems caught, as if only now remembering who is standing in front of her and what the two of you had been through together. Knowing fine was a statement the two of you used when in reality your worlds are falling apart, either the memories of the Red Room causing you to break, an especially tough mission or something else on each other's mind, meaning your hearts were on the verge of breaking. A statement where the two of you knew the meaning, that either a hug, a drink or a training session was in order to blow off some steam.

,,You have been acting out for days, you beat a recruit senseless, let alone me or what happened earlier, you do realise you could have gotten killed right?'' you snap, remembering her foolish actions from the mission hours ago.

,,Don't be ridiculous Y/N'' she scoffs, and you are unsure which bit of what you said she actually meant but it didn't matter because none of what you are feeling seems ridiculous to you.

For a moment you stay silent as you take another step towards the redhead, despite the anger you are feeling your heart swelling with how ethereal she looks in this moment. ,,Tasha'' you try pleading with her, hoping you could somehow break through her walls that you had managed to break down in the past many times. ,,I heard what happened, I'm so sorry'' you whisper.

Her eyes meet yours for a moment, the vulnerability, the sadness in them evident before it's replaced with the same coldness, anger and harshness from moments ago. ,,It's fine, I don't care'' she spits before pouring herself another drink and you can't help but roll your eyes. ,,It's not fine, you almost got yourself killed earlier'' you push again, still unable to believe she wasn't taking any of this serious.

,,I know you are hurting, I know you loved her and I'm so sorry but this isn't the way.. we can do anything, you can beat me up again or we can get ice cream and watch a silly movie, anything but not like this please'' you try reasoning with her and again she pauses before her eyes avert yours.

She takes a few steps towards the window, overlooking the compound, the trees and the rain in the distance before she sighs. ,,I haven't been happy for a while'' she admits and you almost sigh in relief at the honesty in her statement and that her walls are slowly beginning to crack a little.

,,I don't think she really loved me but at least she treated me like I'm somebody'' she carries on and for some reason something within you snaps then. Yes- you had encouraged her to be open and honest, to help her through this but you couldn't believe the person standing in front of you right now. This wasn't the Natasha who broke you both out of the Red Room. Who became a badass assassin and spy before becoming rich and famous and an Avenger. This wasn't the Natasha who held you on a tough night, who told you to fuck all the people that had hurt you and went sure to avenge every single one of them for you when you couldn't. This wasn't the Natasha who taught you to believe in yourself, to trust yourself, to only allow what's best for you. To only let people in who genuinely care about and love you. This version of her, bitter, scared and small wasn't like her and you wonder what happened, what you had missed for it to have become this bad.

,,Yeah but would she have loved you if you were nobody?'' you question, causing for her to turn around abruptly before walking over to you, banging her fists on the table separating you two.

,,Nobody loved me when I was nobody Y/N! no one'' she shouts, her emotions washing over her and causing her anger to again lash out at the person least deserving it, you.

,,I did'' you scream back, completely losing yourself in the moment. Unsure what triggered this but deep down you knew it was the mission, how easily she could have gotten hurt, how selfish and foolish she had been pulling a stunt in front of you like that. And despite you never having voiced your emotions and feelings for her this openly before, in this moment you don't care.

Her mouth stands agape as she stares into your eyes, blinking repeatedly as to make sure she had heard you correctly. ,,Before you became an Avenger and long before your relationship'' your voice breaks now, tears spilling down your cheeks as you are unable to believe how stupid you have been for so long. You had walked to the ends of this world for her, joining SHIELD and the Avengers despite wanting a quiet life after the Red Room. Going on missions, risking your life every single day for her, not wanting her to be on her own, not wanting her to suffer alone. And yet, all she had done was treat you miserably.

,,To me you were a somebody, you were everything'' you cry now, letting the tears flow freely. Suddenly it hurts, your heart, your past all catching up with you. Your face and the bruises from her hurting even more than before, the image of you shooting the guard earlier, replaying in your mind, the gunshot echoing in your brain.

Natasha remains speechless, she moves closer, her mouth still agape as her eyes travel from your mouth to your eyes over and over again, the guilt, the emotions, everything suddenly catching up with the redhead. ,,Y/N I-'' before she can speak, you leave, storming out the room before you can think about it any further, knowing it was a matter of seconds before you would break down and you know one thing for sure, you didn't want her to see this and so with steps as quick as light you abandon her, letting her stand frozen in her spot, your words repeating in her mind over and over again as you steal away to your safe place.

It's about two hours later when Natasha finds you, not needing JARVIS or any of the other guys telling her where she could find you as she knew your safe space. She takes the elevator all the way to the top floor, climbing one of the ladders in order to reach the rooftop. She finds you sitting by the edge, your feet dangling freely, a bottle of liquor beside you. ,,Y/N?'' she tries in order not to startle you and you are surprised by how sober she sounds, considering you assumed she drowned herself in alcohol after your confrontation before.

Silently, she takes a seat beside you and glances over to you, seeing your tear stained red cheeks and her heart breaks at the sight, taking in the bruises that she had left on you both physically and emotionally and she hates herself for ever causing you any pain as you all of people never deserved that. Without a second thought, she reaches for the liquor bottle, taking a rather large sip before passing it to you, your eyes meeting for a mere second before you follow her lead and drown your pain away. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, watching the stars and listening to the quiet sounds of the world.

It's a little later when she notices your shivering state and without thinking she takes off her jacket, placing it over your shoulders but you flinch. ,,I don't need your pitty Nat'' you snap, feeling more upset with her than ever before.

,,I don't pitty you Y/N, I'm so sorry'' she whispers, the vulnerability evident in her green orbs. Your eyes meet hers, seeing the genuine remorse in them and you instantly feel bad for your earlier outburst, as you never wanted to tell her any of it like that.

,,You were right, I've been reckless and so damn stupid'' she curses, her accent again thick as she moves a little closer to you, your shoulders now touching, the scent of her jacket lingering and making you feel warmer instantly.

,,I'm so sorry for hurting you'' she whispers, a tear flowing down her cheek but you are quick to catch it with your thumb before it manages to fall. She smiles bitterly, leaning into your touch a little before you retract your cold hand.

,,I know and I'm sorry for before, I just hate seeing you in pain'' you whisper, your eyes again meeting and locking this time. ,,I know I've made a fool off myself and I'm happy to leave in the morning if you need me to'' you admit, biting your lip due to your nerves and your heart beating out of your chest.

,,Leave? why would I ever want that?'' she asks, the shock written across her beautiful but sad features. You remain silent and it takes a minute for the confusion to turn into understanding as your statement finally makes sense to her and her heart aches at the thought.

,,I've made a fool off myself Tasha, I should have been there for you, yet I confessed my feelings to you like some idiot'' you mutter, averting her gaze again as the embarrassment catches up with you.

She pauses before her thumb reaches your chin, moving it to the side a little so your eyes meet again. ,,You're not an idiot Y/N..'' she admits quietly. ,,I have been the idiot for not seeing this, for not telling you myself'' she admits and now you are the confused one, not understanding what she is implying.

She picks it up, ever the perceptive one before she lays her emotions out right in front of you. ,,The reason we didn't work and we argued everyday is because of you Y/N'' she admits and your eyes widen at her statement.

,,Me?'' you ask dumfounded before she nods. ,,Because I love you too and I have for so long'' she whispers, now the raw and real Natasha back where you had lost her a while ago.

,,Tasha.. please don't'' you whisper ,,Don't do this to make me feel better'' you plead, knowing how she cared about everyone else more than herself and never wanting her to say these things to make you happy.

,,I'm not.. I have loved you for as long as I can remember but I pushed those feelings down because I never thought you'd see me this way'' she admits, some more tears rolling down her cheeks, as she remembers the countless arguments and jealousy of her ex partner and how that ultimately ruined the relationship she never truly wanted to commit to in the first place as her thoughts always had been consumed with you.

,,Tasha I became a spy for you, I became a god damn Avenger for you, I wanted to settle down'' you scoff, unable to believe she had been this much of an idiot for so long, as this whole thing could have been avoided.

,,I know.. I- I'm sorry'' she admits, knowing your reasons for doing all of those things and how the reason had always been her and how she knew it every second of every day and how it killed her.

There is a long pause, as the two of you continue staring into the night sky, processing the words and admissions exchanged. Natasha feeling nothing but guilt for her previous actions and not speaking up sooner and you feeling utterly confused and slightly tipsy, the effects of the alcohol now catching up with you as you really aren't that much of a drinker after all.

When your eyes meet again, the gap between you two is impossibly smaller and you can feel her breath on you, warm, smelling both like liquor and cherry from what you assume to be her chapstick. ,,May I kiss you?'' she whispers, knowing she had caused so much damage but the desire to finally feel your lips on hers stronger than anything in this moment.

,,Tasha we're drunk..'' you argue, not wanting this to be like that. ,,I'm not, I mean this, every single word and there is no way in this world I'd forget any of this in the morning'' she admits and her eyes sparkle with honesty and before you know it you close your eyes, nodding before her lips crash onto yours.

The moment you had daydreamed about for several years had finally arrived and it feels more heavenly than you ever imagined. Her lips are soft, the taste of alcohol and cherry and the smell of her perfume clouding your senses. The kiss is slow, passionate, filled with every single emotion, admission and apology the two of you could find and had on each other's mind. As your chests touch, your hearts beat heavily and in synch, beating for each other, the adrenaline causing your body to begin shaking. ,,Nat..Nat..'' you breathe heavily before she breaks the kiss, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

,,I.. I want you'' you admit, your eyes practically pleading with her and she can't help but smirk amused. ,,You sure?'' she whispers, leaning in again and you nod eagerly before she stands up, scooping you into her arms, as your legs wrap around her waist. ,,We may be idiots detka but at least we're each others'' she whispers as she continues plastering your lips and neck with kisses, carrying you to her room and you can't help but chuckle between moans and your heavy breathing.

(Part two smut? let me know)

[inkprovised]

Have a Luigi and Bowser idea that lives in my head rent-free...

I wrote it down quickly and half asleep. I hope you can read it.

Find more Little Turtle here!

Little Turtle

At the age of 11, Luigi started losing his eyesight and became blind within one year.

Luigi is 24 now and lives with his twin brother Mario.

On his way home from university, Luigi reached their backyard and stopped in his tracks as he heard Mario... 'cursing'?

"Mario, are you alright?!" the younger twin shouted, ready to open the gate, as he stopped.

"Lu, you're home already? Wait, wait, wait, don't come in! There is a huge animal somewhere!" Mario sounded nervous.

Luigi paused. "A huge animal?"

"Y-yeah! Maybe you'd better take another walk until I get everything under control!"

That was weird, Luigi thought, but okay. He could come back later... at that, he closed the fence, ready to head anywhere else but stopped in his tracks, when he felt a warm breeze at the back of his head and neck...

Luigi's hands shook ever so slightly. This was no breeze. Someone or something stood behind him, breathing in his neck.

"H-hey." the young man started. "A-Are you the one m-my brother is talking about?" He turned around, slowly, his knees shaking like jelly.

"Do you mind if I take a look of you? ...I mean not look - look, I obviously can't see you, but I mean -" he held up his hands. "I can 'look' at you with my hands... if that's alright with you, that is..."

A short silence, then a snuffle can be heard, and for Luigi, it feels like permission. The young man smiled and reached out.

Something warm and soft brushed against his fingertips, and he gasped.

"Ah. There you are."

('How to train you Koopa King' lol)

Mario was searching for anything he could use as a weapon... how could this be?!

He was cleaning the living room - what he hated, but was forced to do since he lived with his blind brother.

The last time Mario decided to clean the floor 'later' , Luigi almost broke his arm.

Inside their home, Lu was swift on his feet. He knew where everything was, knew how many steps between every single piece of furniture were. And that day, he walked fast as always and fell hard over a box Mario left there on the floor. Thank the stars nothing worse happened, but Lu was forced to wear a cast for weeks nonetheless.

While cleaning, Mario took a look out of the window, and there he saw it.

A giant... Teenage... Mutant... Ninja... Turtle... thingy in the middle of their small piece of lawn. Mario freaked out and ran into the kitchen - looking for a knife or anything else he could use, while having his cellphone tugged between ear and shoulder.

The line beeping...

Mario cursed.

Then... did he just hear Luigis' voice?!! From the backyard???!!!

He had to get him away from there! So he yells at him to take another walk.

The line is still beeping....

Mario grabbed the knife and ran back into the living room. Taking another look at the garden, he panicked when he saw his baby-bro in the claws of this THING! Fighting for... his life? .... squishing the face of this... creature... thing...

Mario burst out of the door, screaming in horror.

"LU!!! NO!!!!!"

Luigi carefully touched the face in front of him. It was not human, that he could say at first touch. It was huge. Soft. He couldn't stop himself, and he squished the huge muzzle. The creature didn't flinch. Then he heard his brother behind him, screaming in horror.

"It's fine, Mario! He's nice. And I'm almost done here! Luigi stroked over the big creatures nose and felt something... smoll and even softer than the rest of the face... A scar?

"Ah!" Luigis face lit up. Could it be? After all these years... how! Why?

"Is that YOU, my little Turtle?!"

"'Little Turtle'?" Mario asked, dumbfounded.

And the line was still beeping...

Luigi turned the direction he thought Mario to be. He beamed.

"I told you about him! Don't you remember? Back when I fell down the street drain!"

-----

Luigi was 12 and just lost his eyesight completely. He had a very hard time and ran from home after an argument with his parents. Of course, he got lost immediately. The rain was pouring, and he fell down a barely secured street drain.

Down there, he crouched against the wall, trying to ignore the pain in his head from his fall, crying his eyes out. The other moment, Luigi heard another sound... whining?

The boy held his breath, trying to listen over the loud splashing water. Again.

"Hello?" Luigi crawled in the direction of the sound. "Do you need help? Are you lost too?" The next thing he felt was something hard. A... shell? A Turtle? "Are you hurt?" Luigi pet it carefully, searching for anything that might feel like injuries. He felt the animal shiver and whine under his fingers. "Don't worry, my little Turtle. I'll take care of you." There was a deep scratch close to the 'nose' and an open wound on its leg. The boy took off his scarf and tied it around the wound, then he took the animal on his lap. Under his hand, he felt... horns? And... hair??? Also, the little 'Turtle' was bigger than expected... odd.

Luigi talked to the little creature for hours, rocking them both until they fell asleep.

Hours later, Luigi was found by some workers. He must have slept for some time now, and when he woke, the turtle was gone...

-----

"I told you about him back then!" Luigi explained.

Mario looked at him in disbelief. "Mum and Dad always said you hit your head down there! Or you were too old for an imaginary friend... HOW do you know it's him?"

At that, Luigi went silent. "I just know it..." Then the younger twin felt something tug his hand...

Mario gasped loudly. The giant 'turtle' opened Luigi's hand and laid something inside.

Luigi felt some sort of cloth.

"Lu!" Mario shouted, excited. "That's it! That's the scarf you lost back then!"

Someone picked up the phone...

"Animal Control. What can I do for you?"

[navstuffs]

DO IT FOR HIM

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: Leon catches a particular item on your stuff.

Warnings: cute, two idiots in love, FLUFFY FLUFF, comedy, domestic!leon

Author's Notes: inspiration for this came from The Simpsons obvs and this amazing artwork from @emahriel. thank you so much giving me the honor to use it for my little fic! you should all check her blog, she has amazing artwork! i hope this fills your day with joy as much as i had fun writing it!

my leon's masterlist

"What is that?"

You and Leon have been cleaning your bedroom. The idea came from you: to let the energy flow around the house by donating and throwing away old items. Well, you were, at least. Leon is lying in bed, still wearing pajama pants and a shirt, although it is 4 pm. He deserves his rest, he says, and you agree. Because only Leon looks gorgeous in simple grey pants and a white shirt with a hole in the armpits. No complaints on your side.

"What is that?" Leon asks as you sit on the floor, surrounded by old stuff "That. Right there," Leon points, and your eyes follow. It is just your old collection of mangas.

"This?"

"No, behind it. That small little glass frame. What is on it?"

Small little glass…oh, crap. You immediately realize what it is, your stomach twisting. You thought you threw away that long ago before you and Leon moved together. It was a cute piece you made for yourself when you met him, feeling like a teenager in love again. It was never in your plans for Leon to see it.

"No-nothing. It's probably an old art project of mine," You try to place the frame with its face down, thinking of a way to get rid of it, before Leon, faster than you, is at your side, pulling from your hands. "Wait, Leon!"

When Leon turns the frame around, he paralyzes. It is his face. There are numerous pictures of him smiling, looking seriously at the camera, and even admiring the background scenery. There were a few of his younger self as well. And behind it, written in your handwriting in big black bold letters, DO IT FOR HIM. Leon looks at you, a smile appearing on his face, and he feels his cheek heat up.

You don't see that, your face hidden behind your hands. It was just a silly thing you did to help you during work. You placed it on your table to remind yourself to stay strong, even when things got hard.

You peek between your fingers to see Leon isn't in there anymore. Well, there you cringed the man of your life, and he probably regretted marrying you. Or, knowing Leon, he left to give a good laugh without embarrassing you.

Leon comes back, his wallet in his hands. You wait until he sits by your side and hands you the wallet.

"Open it."

You do as you are told, feeling Leon's gentle stare. You hadn't seen anything special in his wallet before besides cards and ID. You look up, and he motions for you to open his wallet. You do it, finding a small folded piece of paper.

"What is this?" You ask, cautious.

"Unfold it."

You wrinkle your forehead, opening the paper and looking at him surprised. It is one of the first pictures you took together after Raccoon City, and you just started dating. Although it was supposed to be a selfie together, Leon accidentally cut himself almost entirely out of the picture, focusing on you and your big happy smile. The paper seemed to have been folded and unfolded plenty of times. When you look at Leon, his face visibly red now, he confesses, his voice low.

"Helped a lot in dark times, believe me."

"Why this one specifically?"

"It was the first time you told me you loved me. I like to remember that."

Without being able to control yourself anymore, sniffling, you throw yourself in Leon's arms, hiding your face on his neck.

"Are you crying?" Leon wonders with a smile. When you don't answer, he rubs your back, whispering in your ear, "I still love you as much as that day."

[vivian-pascal]

But Daddy I Love Him

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: You've been seeing Joel for a while now, when your dad first introduced you to him, you knew you both could never get enough. But when your dad finds out, things take a turn.

warnings: piv (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, fluff, description of what reader wears, angst

authors note: hey folks! when i first heard this song on Taylor's new album I just KNEW I had to write about it! and this is the idea I had in mind, I hope you all enjoy!

(I definitely recommend listening to the song while reading!)

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

screaming "but daddy I love him!"

"I'm having his baby"

no I'm not but you should see your faces.

The warm, tingly feeling of his rough calloused hands sliding along the inside of your thigh making you whimper as his hand slowly makes it way between your legs.

The rough pull of his hair as he collides his drooling mouth with your clit. Licking and sucking like a feral animal devouring its meal.

"Joel." You moan when he inserts his tongue into your seeping cunt. Pushing deeper and deeper until your back arches off the bed.

"Yeah, just like that baby." The deep rumble of his voice vibrates along your pussy and only makes the sensation better. Licking and sucking your cunt until you simply can't hold it any longer and let go. The rush of your orgasm makes him physically eat up your whole pussy. Making sure there are no drops wasted.

Your back finally hitting the bed, he rises from between your legs and he already looks fucked. The dampness from your arousal has drenched his beard and face. His messy hair from all the pulling and tugging you've done only seems to have gotten worse.

He crawls up your body with a big grin and instantly meets your face with his lips. You moan into his mouth as he begins to undo his jeans. You giggle as the zipper gets stuck and decide to help him out.

You pull sharply on the zipper and it instantly goes down. He smiles at you as he removes his pants and his boxers. Your eyes widen at the size of him. You've imagined this moment for years and you've know that he'd be big, but you never knew that he'd be this big.

He crawls back up your body as your back hits the bed once more.

When you first met Joel, you were only a teenager with a wide range of imagination. He was handsome, had the sexiest voice you've ever heard, he was kind, etc. But one thing about him just didn't seem right.

Sometimes you would casually flirt with him because it was funny and only a joke. Well, not for you. He would laugh it off and tell you to stop and then you would. The amount of control he had over you was insane. More than your dad. You would physically do anything for Joel. Sometimes you noticed that some of your flirting did actually bother him.

Once, you two were in a store and the cashier had thought that Joel was your father. He laughed it off and told the lady that you weren't and you both left the store. But you couldn't leave it at that of course, so when you walked out, Joel asked you to wait in the car while he threw something out and you simply replied with "Yes, daddy."

That seemed to do a number for him. He stopped in his tracks as he watched you walk toward his truck. The car ride home was silent. You tried to make small talk with him but he'd only grunt in return.

Ever since that day, he's been off. So earlier today, you decided that should change. And now here you are, ass naked with Joel Miller.

His nose brushes against yours as he slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the intrusion. "You're so gorgeous darlin'." You moan as he slowly begins to move.

You run your nails alone his back as he kissed you along your jawline. His movements hit each spot inside you just right. Stretching you out perfectly.

His grunts only spur you on as he begins to speed up his thrusts. You moan as his tongue collides with yours. His hands moving down your fragile frame as he begins to circle your clit.

Running your hands along his arms, back, neck. You can feel every strong muscle working its hardest. You pull and tug his hair until he's grunting and panting in your mouth.

His fingers push down on your clit harder and you arch your back and moan aloud when your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to go faster as his hips come to a stutter. You grin when you feel his hot seed seeping into you.

He lays his head on your shoulder as you look down at his exhausted state and kiss his forehead. He smiles softly and kisses your lips. You wrap your small arms along his head as he wraps his strong arms around your small body.

You both cuddle up and stay like that for a while. Yearning for each others love as the time passes by slowly.

Your rudely awaken to a slam of your bedroom door. You quickly sit up and cover yourself with your blanket. When you see who it is, your eyes begin to water as your heart stops. It's your dad.

Joel sits up and his eyes squint at the bright light. When he sees your father standing there, he freezes.

"What the fuck?" Your dad roars as he walks in. Joel begins to pick up his boxers as he quickly puts them on.

"Joel?" He looks up at your dad as he tries to grab his jeans. "You fucked my daughter?" He quickly puts on his pants, leaving them unbuttoned. Joel looks at you. His eyes softening when he sees that your crying.

"Fucking answer me!" He looks back at your dad and quickly nods. Your dad throws his hands in the air and grabs onto Joel's arm. Yanking him out of your room.

You quickly get out of bed and grab your dress, putting it on but not buttoning it up. "Dad! Where the fuck are you taking him?" You scream as you run after them. He throws Joel outside and pushes him.

"Joel, care to explain what the fuck you were doing?" Joel only puts his hands in front of him. "You can't even talk to your best bud huh? U wonder why that is, oh maybe because you were messing with my very young daughter." Joel shakes his head as he backs up.

"Now, we both had consent for this. I didn't force her into doin somethin she didn't wanna do." Your dad begins to laugh.

"As if that makes this any better Joel." Tears flood your face.

"Dad stop! He didn't do anything wrong. Please."

Your dad looks furious. He shakes his head and looks back at Joel. He looks at you with sad eyes and only nods to you as a reassurance that it's going to be okay.

"Go." You turn to face your dad as he looks at Joel." "What? Dad no. He can't just leave"

"Well that's what I'm telling him to do isn't it." You look at Joel as he slowly backs away to his truck. "Dad?" You begin to panic. You hear the truck door open and close.

He begins to back away and looks at your dad. His truck backs off the driveway and that's when you start to sprint after him. Holding your dress up as you begin running. Your bare feet hitting the rough pavement. Tears flying from your eyes. Screaming and crying as you see your Joel leaving you. Forever.

Your pace begins to slow as you realize that he's not coming back. Just disappearing into nothing. You stare at his truck as you hear your dads pants coming up behind you. He puts his hand on your back but your too distraught to take it off.

"But Daddy, I loved him."

tags!!

@morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @rav3n-pascal22 @mountainsandmayhem @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @guelyury @iamsherloocked @itsokbbygrl @heartpascalispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @brittmb115 @kotourasan123 @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts

[denwritesandcries]

Later we'll fall because of this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you're falling deep and deep in it and you don't know what to do.

Word count: 5,5k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, kisses, pining, slightly angst, miscommunication, unhealthy situationships, mentions of blood, hazel sends mixed signs (unknowingly), reader is a LOSER, insecure!hazel, flirting, dumb teenagers.

Note: This shouldn't have taken so long since I had all the story planned already, but august was just… crazy, jesus. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy and thanks for being so patient and supportive with this small series, it really means the world to me.

English is not my first language.

<<

You barely register what happens through the rest of the night, returning home with your head completely flustreaded and your heart pounding in your throat, a goldfish in a fragile plastic bag on your shaking hands and a single text from Isabel when you finally fall into bed.

[josie told me what happened

you're welcome btw]

Well, fuck.

Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you’re standing outside the school, nervously clutching the straps of your backpack and not having the courage to go in and face what’s to come.

Still, you do it, because Hazel asked to meet you at your locker before classes started and ignoring her now would just be rude – as if you could ignore her in the first place – so you put your head up and walk down the halls feeling like everyone is staring at you.

And she’s waiting just like she said she would, swaying from foot to foot and seemingly searching for something in the crowd of students. The ear-to-ear grin Hazel gives you when she sees you coming makes your anxiety ease a little.

You greet her a little hesitantly, it’s not like you’ve spoken much since the fair, so you’re not sure how to avoid making things awkward.

Apparently, neither does she, “Hi!” Hazel answers, a little too loudly, before cringing and looking around, as if at any second someone might come along and expose the lie you’re about to tell. Clearing her throat, she starts again, “So, I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to start walking you between periods now, or— or maybe give you a ride after school, I mean, I know that you usually take the bus but,” Hazel begins to ramble, “I thought that would be more convincing, since, you know, that’s what couples do and—”

“Haze, it's okay,” you interrupt, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder instinctively, brushing some lint off the hodie she's wearing to keep yourself from overthinking it, “Yes. For both things. It's not like we've never done that before, right?”

“...Right,” she looks down at your hand where it's rubbing circles on her shoulder, blinking in realization, “You're right!” she groans, “We already do all this stuff, how are people going to buy it if nothing changes between us? How will PJ?” You try to hold grimacing at the mention and Hazel rests her hands in her head in panic, “Fuck. We should've planned this before we got here, I'm a terrible liar.”

You really should have and she really is a terrible liar. Great, now you're getting nervous too. That's what happens when two anxious teenagers decide to do something on impulse. Just great.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, someone has to take charge here, “Why don’t we just play along today without elaborating on anything for everyone? Then when class is over we can go to my place and plan everything properly together.”

Hazel relaxes a little at your words and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good,” she clears her throat, “So, I guess we’ll just have to wing it for today then.”

“It was your idea, sweetheart,” you shrug, “We’ll get through this day.”

The first bell rings and Hazel takes on a determined expression, nodding, she turns, gently taking the bag hanging from your shoulder and placing it next to hers, ignoring your confused look to extend a hand to you, “C’mon, we better not be late this time.”

And you go.

It takes a moment for you to absorb the gasps of excitement and surprise that come when you and Hazel enter Mr. G’s class, too busy cataloging the way her hand feels in yours to pay any real attention to your surroundings. Hazel’s hand is cold and a little damp from flutter, you can perfectly feel the outline of the loose rings on your intertwined fingers and it feels simply perfect. It’s different then other times you’ve held hands, as if she wanted to transmite another kind of feeling. As if she wanted to show it off.

Hazel’s voice sounding close to your ear brings you back into the moment, she squeezes your hands together with an excited whisper: “I think it’s gonna work, she’s already looking at us.”

And sure enough, there’s PJ when you look up, sitting on the edge of the seat with her gaze burning into your hands, Josie watching the scene next to her with a raised eyebrow.

There’s also Sylvie and Annie, a bit perplexed but still cheering from their seats, not giving a damn about the students they don’t know coming into the room to actually try to study.

“What is that?” Sylvie slaps her hands on the table excitedly as you sit next to her and Hazel hands you your backpack, “You guys are a thing now? Dude, that’s awesome!”

“So you did listen to me,” Annie nods to Hazel in approval, “I told you that it had better options. Good job, Haze.”

Hazel lets out an awkward laugh, accepting the teasing with a red face and you stand there, shy and a little confused. You didn’t expect them to react so… genuinely happy, as if you hadn’t all been talking about her liking someone else just a few days ago, in fact, you expected a barrage of questions and suspicious looks. Well, who knows, maybe luck was just on your side with that.

(You kick Jeff's chair hard when the teacher isn't looking as you hear him laughing with his stupid friends about "the freak finally getting a girlfriend", giving Hazel an innocent smile when she turns around with a questioning look at the noise.)

The day passed peacefully, with Hazel walking you to every period, rushing to carry your bag and open doors for you, smiling brightly at your nods of approval and making sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

It was really sweet to have someone do that for you, to try so hard. It made you feel like a schoolgirl in love and sighing in the hallways – which, for what it’s worth, you were – a warm, timid feeling filling your chest every time she came into view. During lunch she put an arm around you, happily chatting with everyone, taking your hand to play with your fingers once PJ was there too. You almost managed to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and enjoy it fully – almost.

Now you were both leaving, absently commenting on the reactions you had elicited and you're thinking about what topics to cover when you get home to discuss and match stories, you had to make sure you were on the same page.

“Psst,” Hazel calls as you reach her car, opening the passenger door for you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting in.

You frown at her upset expression, following her gaze to find the scene she’s staring at the other side of the parking lot.

“Oh,” it’s Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and PJ, of course, but this time with a new addition. The cheerleader Hazel mentioned before, clinging to the arm of a very pleased-looking PJ, “Shit, I’m sorry, Haze.”

Her lips press into a thin line and you feel a pang in your chest at how uncomfortable she is about this, but you can’t say anything because Brittany spots you and waves goodbye as she walks to her own car. And now all of your friends have seen you both too.

“They’re looking,” Hazel mumbles. She seems closer, even though you haven’t heard her approach. Her hand is still holding the door, she's almost leaning over your body.

“I've noticed,” you whisper back. You don't know why your voice suddenly got low, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel her touch moving up your arm.

Hazel leans in even closer, her breath is warm against your face. You gulp.

“She's looking.”

Maybe it was pretty naive, or stupid, that you started dating someone – whether it was fake or not – with the intention of showing it off and not having considered for a second that you would kiss that person, like, actually kiss them. It was just a small detail that your mind chose to so carefully ignore for the sake of your sanity. And that you shouldn't freak out about it, since in theory you've done this before. Still, here you are.

Hazel gets impossibly closer, bringing the hand running down your arm gently to rest on your cheek and you melt in the roughness of her touch, feeling the cold on your warm skin. Your breath hitches as Hazel looks deeply at you, searching for something that she seems to find when you close your eyes in anticipation.

It's all a matter of seconds, but time seems to freeze in the most cliché way when Hazel's lips meet yours for the first time. Her mouth feels warm and soft, a few strands of hair falling through her forehead tickle your face and you can't believe this is real. You swear your heart could explode at any moment with how fast it's beating and it would be totally worth dying for the way you feel right now.

And then when you sigh, about to put a hand on her waist to deepen the kiss, the moment is over and Hazel is pulling away with a little smirk to the driver's side.

You hear Isabel clapping her hands provocatively in the background, but you're too mortified to react in any way other than shakily getting into the car.

What are you doing with your life?

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Hazel stops at a red light, having been silent for most of the short drive, head leaning against the window.

“I’m sorry,” she clears her throat hastily and you look up in confusion, “I— I should’ve asked before kissing you like that. We haven’t talked about this yet, if it was okay or not and I keep doing things without telling you about it. I’m scared I might have crossed the line now ‘cause you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Hazel thinks you’re mad at her. That calm, intense demeanor she seemed to have assumed for a moment is nowhere to be found and you notice the way her hands nervously grip the steering wheel, doing everything she can to keep from looking at you directly. Hazel thinks you’re mad at her, when in fact it couldn’t be more opposed to it.

It’s just that you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. The feeling of her lips lingers on yours like a ghostly touch as the scene replays in your mind over and over.

And you’re bubbling inside. It’s a new thing you never seriously believed you’d share with her one day. In your most vulnerable moments, you knew your fantasies about kissing Hazel were nothing more than that. The real thing, however, was different than what you imagined. All-consuming, completely addictive, and it left you shocked, disturbed.

Because you wanted more.

How could you experience having all of this only for reality to knock on your door and you realize it wouldn’t be for as long as you wanted? You wondered how it would end after this.

You were fucked.

“No! I'm not mad at you!” You exclaim, trying not to turn into a mess, “You didn't cross any line. It's just that, uhm…” your body seems to heat up from your face to your chest in embarrassment. How do you tell someone you just had your first kiss when it all happened like it was nothing? “It was sudden and I… well— I've never kissed anyone before that.”

You said the wrong thing.

“What?”

“Haze.”

Hazel seems to freeze for a moment, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, the exact expression of someone who is about to freak out. Her face turns evidently red.

“What?”

You rush to stop the spiral she's in: “Haze, it's okay. It's no big deal, seriously.”

“I— I stole your first kiss?” She's completely panicked now, “Oh my god, Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don’t know how to tell her that apologies only make you feel bad, that you wish it wasn’t a regret for her, because after all it wasn’t one for you.

“Sweetheart, please,” you try again, instinctively placing your hand on her arm, “It’s alright. It was good, I can’t think of anyone else who would have treated me so gently like that. And you didn’t know, okay? It wasn’t on purpose.”

Hazel gulps, clearly drowned in guilt, her gaze dropping to where your hand is touching her and back to your face, suddenly shy. You pull away as if you’ve been burned, but neither of you can say anything because what feels like the longest red light in history finally turns green and a car behind you honks and swears loudly.

She clears her throat, turning back to driving:

“I still should have asked anyway.”

You snort: “If you had asked me, I still would have said yes.”

“Oh, okay.”

As if you couldn’t make things any more weirder. Great.

Hazel looks flustered and desperate to break out of the tension that’s settled over the car:

“But,” she mumbles in a perplexed tone, “What about that time you and Sylvie got locked in the pantry on Stella’s birthday? I thought…”

Maybe at this point you should just jump out of this moving car and buy a shovel, since you’re so spectacularly good at digging your own grave.

“We promised to never talk about that again.”

“Right.”

You both only speak again once you’re back in your room and you end up snapping with Hazel when all she does is sit on the bed with her eyes stuck on the floor, a whirlwind of thoughts so obvious in her head that you can almost hear them. You end up stuttering something like ‘you said you’d come over so we could talk and now you’re going to spend the whole time in silence?’

Hazel still looks very uneasy, as if she expects you to change your mind and yell at her at any minute, but she relaxes a little when she notices you letting her guide the conversation at her own pace.

You decide to formulate a simple story just in case your friends decide they want details and ask about it. Yes, you’ve just gotten together a couple days ago; Yes, you’ve liked each other for a long time and were just too much of a coward to admit it; No, you haven’t been on your first official date (yet). Basic and realistic, nothing that would raise suspicions or that you could end up messing, because if there was one thing you knew for certain in all this time knowing each other, it was that Hazel was terrible at sustaining acts for long.

Hazel also makes a point of asking you thousands of times what was okay or not in terms of PDA, checking you for any sign of discomfort that might be being omitted – you said that everything was fine, as long as she asked you or gave some sign first, which she swore she would do.

It's only when Hazel is gathering her things to leave that you ask perhaps the most important question about everything, watching her put the bag on her shoulder and push the hair out of her eyes. She looks beautiful.

"How long do you think this will last, Haze?"

She hums, a little uncertain and suddenly thoughtful: "Until it works out, I guess? I think we'll just have to make sure that it happens fast," she licks her lips, "I... I'll make it up to you for this, okay? For all of this.”

You mumble an agreement, staring at her as she says goodbye and walks away.

You feel too anxious to sleep, your heart pounding against your throat irritably as you roll restlessly over the blankets once more. You come across your desk, where the aquarium with your goldfish swims in circles. Poor thing, you should give it a bigger house, maybe with a den to hide in, just like you want to do now.

You can't stop reliving the moments of the day, every second spent with Hazel comes right back to you. Hands holding, gentle acts, soft gazes, the kiss. The goddamn kiss.

You ponder for a long moment if it would be worth it to enjoy what would come next if PJ actually made a move and you had your fake breakup – which would probably hurt like a real one – so that Hazel would be free to move on. Would you be happy for her? You weren't sure.

You weren't sure of much, but just thinking about them being together in the hallways, acting and touching like you just did a few hours ago for the rest of the year until graduation makes you sick. Would you still be as close as you are now? It might be a little awkward being friends with your ex, especially if her current partner kind of hates you already.

Sighing, you reach for your phone on your desk, scrolling through it to find a spam of texts in your group chat with your friends. You snort, of course they wouldn't stay quiet after the parking lot scene, as if they would miss out on gossip like that.

10 unread messages

annie (with an I)

[guys I've heard the gays gave a show in the exit today]

britt-britt

[they did but y/n wont answer any of my texts and its been hoursss

omg do you think they died on the way back??]

annie (with an I)

[what??? no. definitely not]

slaylvie

[oh maybe she's just too busy with her NEW GIRLFRIEND

stealing the girl all to ysf that was such a queen move fr]

isabeautiful

[she's probably just ignoring us britt it's not like she can't read or smth]

britt-britt

[u sure?

oh ur probably right

wait can u read y/n or are you like that one lady from glee]

Y/N silenced the group.

slaylvie

[now that's just fckng rude.]

You definitely won't reply to anything after this long and chaotic day, especially not about the subject you want to get off your mind, instead, you huff and open the private chat with Isabel after seeing the proud text she sent earlier.

[you've planned all of this since the beginning, didn't you?]

She replies in the next second:

[you only realized it now?]

Hazel keeps her promise of what she said about making it up to you and the next few weeks are uneventful. It’s almost natural how your routine adapts quickly to the new things.

Holding hands in the hallways, sticky notes with sweet words stuck on your locker, good morning and good night texts, arms around each other when you sit down at lunch or at the club, kisses – even though they don’t happen as often as you would like – Isabel even manages to convince you to go on a double date soon and even though Hazel makes a point of touching you or talking loudly about your plans whenever PJ’s around, she doesn’t whine about it to you anymore, which strangely feels like a victory.

A very short-lived victory, since you end up with a chapped lip because of it.

You honestly hadn’t seen it coming. It was just another afternoon of club practice, your meetings had been cut short for a while – the school had to punish you somehow after Huntington – and you’d finally gotten back into the swing of things with the fighting and the exercises and no one had gotten hurt besides a few bruises on their wrists.

Until PJ declared that she would be your partner.

You’d noticed how she’d been acting lately, responding to everyone in her typical passive-aggressive way and glaring at you with a sour expression whenever Hazel was around and finding excuses to touch her whenever possible, a result of all your displays of affection and the gossiping your friends were sure to do when you weren’t hearing.

You thought Hazel would be pleased with this since it was a sign that the plan was working, but she seemed oddly uncomfortable, bringing up the subject less and less. In fact, you’re pretty sure there was once or twice when she simply took your hand and led you somewhere else.

Maybe that gave your stupid heart the false hope you tried so hard not to cling to and made you sigh even more lovingly when you laid eyes on her and it's likely that you weren't the only one who noticed it.

That could explain PJ's loud steps approaching with her fists clenched at her sides as you, Isabel and Hazel tried to reach a consensus on which ice cream shop to go to next weekend, waiting for Josie to finish her round from where she was furthest away to vote too, and it explains her insistence even after you lied and said you had already agreed to go against Annie later – which was also a bad idea, that girl knows how to do more than just throw a few punches.

She didn't take no for an answer and even Hazel seemed hesitant to let you go, pulling you close and trying to convince PJ that maybe it would be better if she went to help some new members with their moves. It didn't work, of course, but the concern in her voice melted your heart a little.

So you've ended up in a circle with your teammates cheering loudly and the first punch that hits you makes your head snap to side with a loud crack, your gaze falling on Mr. G, engrossed in his phone at the back of the court.

Well, you think, at least your funeral won't happen without the supervision of a – partially – responsible adult.

You hit back just as hard as she did, but you end up lying on your back on the mat in pain anyway, listening to your teammates, oblivious to the tension, congratulate PJ on her easy win. Damn, she really took all her amassed anger out on you.

“Are you okay?” Hazel’s worried face fills your vision and you groan as she gently pulls you to sit up, cupping your face gently, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll live,” you joke, but she doesn’t seem to find it funny, tilting your chin up to inspect it better, lips pressed into a thin line.

Suddenly, you saw PJ approaching with an expression that failed to not look proudly – if the little smirk on the corner of her mouth said anything – even with the bruises forming that you left on her, she leaned over and patted Hazel on the shoulder, making a provocative comment that you didn't bother to pay attention to, as if she expected Hazel to congratulate her too and that was enough for her expression to change completely. Her forehead furrowed, her nose twitched in disbelief and you could feel the way her hands shook a little with pent-up anger where they descended to your shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Both you and PJ widened eyes, not expecting the explicit bite in her voice. It was unbelievable that Hazel would be rude to anyone, much less to the shocked girl in front of her.

PJ didn’t seem to really understand why there would be anything wrong with what she just did and that almost made you feel bad for her, but anyone should know better than to tease a stressed-out Hazel.

She coughs, clearly embarrassed:

“Jeez! You never know how to take a joke,” she holds up her hands in placation, looking indignant, before fixing her eyes on you, “We were just playing, it was fun, right?”

If you were less petty, maybe you would have nodded and moved on for the sake of your crush’s potential dream relationship but honestly? It’s hard to give a fuck about any of those things when you think about how swollen and bruised your face will be on the day you’re supposed to have the closest thing to a cliché, cute date before graduation.

“For you, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and looks like she wants to say something else, but Josie comes over and quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders, apologizing and dragging her away to avoid any further discussion with a grimace on her face. It’s only then that you notice the curious looks of your friends at the scene.

Hazel takes a deep breath, biting her lip nervously and looking suddenly embarrassed, before moving to help you up.

“C’mon,” she clears her throat, “Let’s take care of you.”

Hazel is upset.

She hadn’t been quiet for a single second the entire time you’d arrived at the infirmary, having spent the entire journey there mumbling incoherently. Now she had one hand firmly resting on your knee on the stretcher she’d insisted you take, while the tired-looking nurse tried to explain that none of your injuries were serious enough for anything more than bandages and an ice pack – which you’d already tried to tell Hazel, but to no avail.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” she asked for the millionth time, and you could practically feel the effort the nurse was making not to sigh.

“Yes.” She replied, pulling a box of kids' band-aids from her uniform pocket to give it to you, “She didn’t hit her head when she fell, did she? So all you have to do is clean up the blood and wait for the cuts to heal.”

“Okay, hm-hm,” Hazel nods quickly, effectively dismissing the nurse, “I can do that.”

This time the nurse does sigh and give up, mumbling about not getting paid enough before leaving the room – definitely to get a moment away from the annoying teenagers she's seeing all day – and then you’re alone.

Hazel finally goes quiet and her face scrunches up in concentration as she grabs a damp cloth so she can wipe away the red staining of your face and something twists in your stomach.

She hasn’t spoken directly to you since you left and something twists in your stomach at that.

She’s mad at me, you think.

It was obvious that you couldn’t control yourself, painfully obvious that something was going to happen and that you were going to ruin everything because of your temper and your inability to keep your mouth shut. You made this bed, now it’s time to accept the fact that, first, you suck at making beds, and, second, you have to lie in it. Both figuratively and literally. Well, it's a stretcher, but still.

“I'm sorry, Haze,” you say regretfully, holding her hands working on your face in place so she stops and turns her attention back to you.

“Hm?” She lifts her head looking surprised, as if only then remembering you were there too, “For what?”

You look away embarrassed, biting the inside of your cheek: “I didn't mean to ruin things with PJ back there, I know that she was finally doing something and…”

“Wait,” her eyes widened, “Wait, wait, wait, you think I'm mad at you?”

You blink, hesitant: “You're not?”

“No, of course not!” Hazel grabs your shoulders frantically, “You just got beat up, why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug wordlessly, feeling a weird sensation of a deja-vú and Hazel releases you to rest her hands on the stretcher in exasperation.

“Oh, man,” she sighs. “I'm angry with PJ for what she did and I'm angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“But… I thought you'd like that she got jealous,” you fidget, confused, “She finally made a move, right?”

“Not like that! How would I be happy with her getting so possessive that she decided to take it as an excuse to hit you?” Hazel asks incredulously, looking at you like she's tired of even thinking about it, “That was completely out of line, this is not a PG13 gay version of After.”

You freeze for a second before bursting into laughter, ignoring the burning sensation on your lip that the action causes, and Hazel sits down next to you, seemingly satisfied that she’s wiped the worry from your face.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she groans, running a hand through her hair looking lost.

“Don’t know what, sweetheart?” you turn to her, shoulders touching.

Hazel shakes her head as if trying to push away the thoughts that are bothering her, busying herself by opening one of the bandages for you:

“If I still want this,” she starts hesitantly, “I thought I wouldn’t mind if she kept being mean to me every now and then as long as she showed me that she liked me more, but I— I don’t want that to happen if it’s hurting you. I don’t want to be with someone who would hurt you.”

Your throat is dry. Hazel looks up to catch your eye and places the bandage on a cut on your chin, her hand stays there and you can hear your heart pounding against your ears.

Does she mean…? You're breathing fast, her face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. This has to be a dream or some kind of bad joke, maybe you did hit your head and are in a coma right now. You swear everything is in slow motion and there's a cheesy song playing deep inside of your mind. God, if only you hadn't fallen so hard.

You think back to all the moments you've shared so far, years and years of touching and spending time together, learning details about each other and trying to think of the part you missed when Hazel started looking at you like that, does she even know she's doing it? You think, searching deep in your memories, how could you miss that?

Maybe it was earlier this week, when she came up to you happily skipping and handed you a paper flower with the utmost pride she could muster that she had made it herself, because 'You said you always wanted to receive flowers, but you didn't say what kind, so I made you a special one.’

Or days ago, when she started leaving silly little notes stuck to your stuff, even though you saw her all the time; ‘see u later!’ in messy handwriting, ‘have a good day’ scrawled with a cartoon taped to the cover of your math notebook, ‘i'll be thinking of u’ on the locker door she just left you in, a stupid pun written in neon marker just because.

Was it before that? When she kissed you then? Before? Long before?

“Haze,” you call.

When did the possibility of her loving you become real?

“I thought I wanted it,” Hazel murmurs, “But I'm not sure anymore.”

She's going to kiss you. There's no one around now and she's going to kiss you because she wants it, not to show off. And you want it too, more than anything.

You move your hand to find purchase on her chest, grabbing a fistful of the shirt she's wearing. Your noses are brushing now, Hazel’s eyes narrow and you can almost taste her.

Then the nurse walks into the room, dropping the papers she was carrying when she sees the scene and the moment is completely lost.

She shoos you both out of the room, no matter how many stammered excuses you try to give her and you and Hazel trade shocked looks alone in the hallway before laughing as hard as you never did. The sound fills your ears, it’s completely divine. You laugh and laugh and laugh and you’ve never felt so happy, feeling your stomach flutter with butterflies when you feel her hand brush against yours, that she’s still here.

The laughter stops as it steals your breath – it wasn’t the only thing that stole it – and you feel cold where your skin was warm just a second ago, turning your head to find her a few feet away from you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, smiling, feeling light, as if you weighed the same as the paper flower stored in your bag.

She stares at you, hair messy, face red, clothes wrinkled and eyes full of emotion that you can't distinguish with how quickly they pass. You wonder what she's gonna do, if she's going to press you against the wall and kiss you here in this hallway like she wanted before, if she's going to take your hands and tell you that she wasn't sure about things, but wanted to find out with you. Another emotion flashes in her eyes as she takes another step back, the only one you can recognize: regret.

Hazel turns and runs away from there. She leaves.

Luck has been on your side for a long time during all of this, so of course at some point everything would end up going wrong. And you, of course, would end up in the crossfire.

[ch-4-eri]

LOVE POTIONS — Jill Valentine.

best friend’s mom! jill X female reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni!! age gap (don’t say i didn’t warn you) oral, dirty talk, hints at the reader being a virgin if you squint. i don’t know if i’m missing anything let me know.

word count: 1.4k

i’m so sick for this, i’ll go to hell on my own, don’t fuck your friend’s mothers guys. but do enjoy this.

you couldn’t explain it, even if you wanted, the whole thing was messy from the beginning.

it was supposed to be something innocent, completely harmless and has no threat to anyone in your life or yourself.

or your best friend.

if only you never met his mother, Jill Valentine, government agent, and a former RPD S.T.A.R.S member.

but god, you didn’t think it through.

didn’t think your attitude and the way you looked at the woman were entirely calculated, jill knew.

this woman has a love for details and reading you, every time you came over; what you’d say and what’d you do, what you’re wearing.

she’d show you she’s busy, working documents and important things for the BSAA, jill to you was just a best friend’s mother.

but you both had one hell of an unspoken sexual tension.

which you tried to hide, tried to shove in the back of your mind as your age gap is fucking nuts and you always worry someone would read your mind which isn’t even a realistic idea, but still, you were too anxious to act on it, even alone, self awareness preventing you from being able to stay in your head for long.

but jill on the other hand… when every time she analysed you, how you talk, how you act, your ass in your tiny skirts drives her fucking crazy enough she finds herself unable to sleep, her hand inside her shorts as she’s pumping herself up at the thought of you with her hand covering her mouth.

surely she felt ashamed, a woman her age acting and thinking like this, she felt so much guilt and shame for operating like a damn teenage boy riling with hormones over a girls ass in a skirt.

a girl her son’s age.

she knew if he ever found her out, he’d hate her forever and she can’t afford losing him, not after fighting for his custody for many years with her ex husband.

but that’s not what she had in mind that day, when she had you splayed down her bed so late at night, her fingers in your mouth as she ate you out like no tomorrow, your legs on her shoulders, your moans muffled by her thick fingers pressing down your tongue, drooling all over them.

“taste’s so good..” jill groaned against your clit, her mouth engulfing you, sending your back arching, she pulls away and sits up, making you ache at the loss of contact and the warmth you felt between your legs.

jill removed her fingers from your mouth, wiping your saliva off them down her bedsheets, going on her knees to meet your eyes as you were so lost in the feeling of pleasure you never got from anyone else other than this woman, a woman you shouldn’t even be doing this with.

but neither of you were even thinking of that right now.

jill had your chin in her palm as you opened your eyes, your breathing shaky and heavy, drool covering your chin as you smelled like sex and vanilla to the older woman’s nostrils.

“i want you to sit on my face, yeah? can you do that for me?” jill smirked, licking her lips with the tongue you want to be inside you again so badly.

you nodded eagerly, the thought of having her mouth against your pussy again was driving you mad with chills coursing through your body. “mhm.. yes please.” you begged, your eyes staring into hers pleadingly, like a lost puppy. fucked up enough.

jill patted your legs, lying down on the mattress of her huge bed, she wasn’t wearing anything other than her lacey bra and underwear, she was a fucking sight, you’d drool on her looks alone. even for a woman her age, she was damn delicious and you couldn’t get your eyes off her as you went on your knees and crawled to her.

she prepared the seat that was her face you were going to be sitting on for the next many minutes, hopefully hours if it were up to the older woman. moving her short brown hair away from her blue eyes you’d drown in.

as you made it closer to her, you were a bit nervous, a question rolling around your head you had to make sure of, you had to ask, as silly as it made you sound to a woman with so much experience.

“do i sit or hover?” you asked, your voice betraying you, your cheeks rosy and lips red and swollen.

jill chuckled, like she was making fun of you. “sit.” she demands. “i want you to suffocate me.” jill added, taking a hold of your thigh as she brought you closer with her strong grip.

“i want you to cum in my mouth.. am i clear, sweet girl?” she demanded as soon as you gasped, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“y-yes..” you nodded like the puppy you are, you weren’t going to upset her, you hated to refuse jill.

and jill hated it when you refused her.

you finally scooted up to jill’s head, placing a knee next to her head, the other doing the same as you lowered your body so your wet pussy made contact with her nose, both of you let out a sigh while jill’s hands positioned you properly on her face, and as soon as you felt her tongue lick a long stripe up your sopping wet hole you let out a sickeningly pornographic moan, your hands grabbing at the headboard of her bed.

“ah.. jill..” you breathed, your thighs squeezing the older woman’s head, her tongue sucking and licking at your hole as she made it her sole purpose for you to cum in her mouth and if she keeps this up you’re gonna do it more than once, not that jill would complain.

her strong hands gripped your ass so tight, her tongue brutally slamming inside of you, as was her nose, sliding it up and down which drew pathetic moans out of you.

jill was humming, groaning into you, making your legs shake and your thighs closing in on her, and you were worried you were hurting her even though jill was having a fucking blast, she adored those damn thighs, if she suffocateds and dies like this it’ll all be worth it.

“please.. can’t take this anymore.” you cried out, making jill just suck at your clit like a starved woman, her body humming and shivering as she was desperate to get touched as well, rubbing her thighs together while her hands reached your hips in a bruising grip.

you were shuddering and whimpering, your legs so weak as you didn’t want to put your full weight on the woman’s face. “jill..” you moaned as she flicked her tongue against your sopping walls, your thighs filled with goosebumps.

“i’m..” you start, your lower belly so tight with a burning sensation that you were so close to your release, jill positioned you right into her mouth as she knew you were close, drinking you up as you finally gushed your orgasm down her mouth like she wanted.

“mmm..” jill mumbled, swallowing every last bit of what you can give her, you tasted like heaven, fucking delicious.

you were trying to catch your breath, your heart hammering against your rib cage as jill patted your thigh.

you weakly pulled your knee away from her head, your legs were shaking like crazy, your center so sensitive and puffy.

“i bet you can’t walk now, huh?” jill joked, sitting up on her elbows, her cheeks red from the heat of being between your thighs for as long as she just was, her nose and her lips shiny and sticky from your release and you were so sick for thinking she looked so darn good with your cum on her face.

you gulped, heat rushing into your cheeks at her words. “just a little sore.” you mumbled shyly, like you weren’t just seated on her face.

“a little sore hm? come here for me..” jill gestured for you to come closer to her. “you think you can just rest without returning the favour?”

jill smirked and brushed your hair away from your face, brushing two fingers against your hardened nipples.

“i know you can’t handle me sitting on your face… i’m afraid i’d break you entirely… but you have fingers don’t you?”

she says in a suggestive tone, grabbing your nipple into her mouth, your eyes closing at the sensation, your hands going into her hair as a moan escaped you.

jill took your hand and brought it near her panties.

then she pulled away with a pop, her blue eyes staring into yours so intensely. “now be a good girl and touch me.”

oh boy you’re screwed.

[moonsgemini]

good for you - rafe cameron

summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.

warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe

wc: 1.9k

an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.

masterlist

She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.

It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.

Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”

“Hey uh it’s me.”

Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.

When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.

Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.

She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”

Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.

“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.

Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”

He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.

Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.

Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.

He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.

“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”

She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.

“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”

“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”

“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.

When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.

“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.

He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”

“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.

Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.

“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.

Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.

“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.

He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.

They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.

“What happened Rafe?” She asked.

He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.

“Rafe, people make mistakes.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”

She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.

He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.

Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.

They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.

“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.

She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.

“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.