#I just live to see him take his next breath

[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[maskedbyghost]

it's a happy ending, i promise!

The first thing Simon registers is pain.

A dull, burning throb in his ribs, a sharp sting along his jaw, and the constant, nagging ache of his wrists tied behind the chair he’s strapped to. The room is dimly lit, damp with the scent of mildew and blood—some of it his own. He keeps his breathing even and controlled, despite the way his head pounds from the last hit they landed.

A man steps forward, cracking his knuckles. "You’ve killed a lot of our people, Ghost." The way he says his name makes Simon's stomach churn. "You really thought that wouldn’t come back to bite you?"

Simon doesn’t answer. He’s learned silence is its own weapon.

The man chuckles and gestures to one of his men, who rolls a small television stand into the room. The screen flickers to life, static at first, before it settles on an all-too-familiar image.

Simon’s house.

His breath stills. The camera angle is high—hidden, probably in a corner of the living room. And there she is.

You.

Moving around the kitchen, completely unaware. A soft glow from the stovetop lights up your face as you hum to yourself, stirring something in a pot. Simon can almost hear your voice, that familiar melody you always hum when you’re cooking.

Ice settles in his chest.

"You see," the man continues, circling Simon like a predator, "an eye for an eye. You took our people from us. Now we take something from you."

The screen changes. Another angle. The front of the house now, where three men slip through the unlocked door like shadows. They move fast.

"Now, we could just kill her," the man muses, crouching beside Simon. "But where’s the fun in that? Maybe we start with a few fingers. Maybe a knife to that pretty face."

Simon jerks against the restraints, the chair creaking beneath him. His muscles coil with panic, and rage. His voice is muffled against the tape over his mouth, his heart hammering in his chest.

He watches as the men move closer—one creeping toward the kitchen doorway. He wants to scream, wants to warn you, to do something.

And then—

You turn.

And everything shifts.

The first man lunges.

You sidestep easily, grabbing a pan off the counter and slamming it into his face so hard he crumples instantly. The second man barely gets a hand on you before you spin, kneeing him hard in the gut before driving an elbow into his throat. He staggers, gasping, and you grab a knife from the counter, plunging it straight into his chest.

The third man hesitates.

Simon can see it—hesitation—as if he just realized this isn’t the easy job he thought it would be. He tries to pull a gun.

But you’re faster.

You twist his arm, forcing the gun toward his own leg before squeezing the trigger. He howls, dropping to his knees, and you grab the knife from the dead man’s chest, slashing the last attacker’s throat in one clean motion.

Silence.

The only sound is your heavy breathing.

The room Simon is in is frozen. No one speaks. No one moves.

"What the fuck," one of the men behind the camera mutters.

Simon can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. His body is still tense, his pulse still erratic, but his mind is caught between disbelief and something close to admiration.

He didn’t know you could do that.

Hell, he didn’t even know you knew how to throw a punch properly, let alone take down three armed men like it was nothing.

On screen, you quickly search the bodies, taking one of their guns and their earpiece. Then, without missing a beat, you grab your jacket and bolt out the door.

The man next to Simon snarls, grabbing a radio. "Find her!" he shouts. "She couldn't have gone far!"

Simon lowers his head, exhaling through his nose, swallowing down the relieved laugh bubbling in his throat.

That’s his girl.

It takes hours for you to track Simon down. Hours of listening in on enemy radio chatter and moving with the precision you never thought you’d need outside of training. Your heart pounds, but your hands remain steady as you grip the stolen gun.

When you finally pick up on the radio chatter—"Move the prisoner to the safehouse outside the city"—you know exactly who to ask for help.

The moment you contacted Price, he didn’t even hesitate. "We’re on it," he had said, and that was that. Now, as you move through the safehouse with the Task Force, the sound of suppressed gunfire fills the air as they clear the rooms.

Your thoughts are simple. Find Simon. Get him out.

When you reach the back room, you kick the door open so hard it nearly flies off the hinges.

Simon lifts his head at the sound, and the sight of him knocks the air from your lungs.

He’s tied to a chair, his wrists raw from the rope digging into them. There’s blood at his temple and a bruise darkening along his cheekbone. His mask is gone, and his hair is damp with sweat. But it’s his eyes that stop you in your tracks—sharp despite the exhaustion, locked onto you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

"Jesus, Simon," you breathe, already moving.

You reach him in seconds, hands shaking as you rip the tape from his mouth.

"Fuckin’ hell, love," he rasps, his voice hoarse.

"You look like shit," you mutter, and his lips quirk up at that, just a little.

"Feel like it too."

But you’re already working, fingers fumbling at the knots around his wrists, trying to ignore the way they’re rubbed raw. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? How bad is it—"

He cuts you off.

"Marry me, woman."

You freeze. "What?"

"Marry me." And there’s no hesitation in his voice.

You blink, mind struggling to process. "Simon, are you concussed?"

"Dead serious, love," he mutters. His head tilts slightly, eyes flicking to the doorway behind you. "Get me outta this chair first, then we’ll talk rings."

Behind you, a low chuckle sounds. "Well, that’s one way to propose," Price comments, stepping into the room.

"Should we give ‘em a minute?" Soap adds, grinning.

You don’t even look back. "No, because I’m gonna kill him."

Simon snorts, and somehow, despite everything, that tiny sound makes your chest ache.

Your fingers work faster, finally loosening the ropes enough for him to yank his arms free with a hiss of pain. The second he’s out of the chair, your hands are all over him—checking his bruises, pressing against his ribs to see if anything gives under your touch.

He catches your wrist. "I’m fine."

You glare up at him. "You’re not fine."

"M’fine now that you’re here."

And there it is again—that way he looks at you, like you just flipped his entire world upside down and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

You shake your head, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, exhaling hard. "You scared the hell out of me, Simon."

His hand slides up your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your jacket. "Didn’t know you could fight like that, love."

"Yeah, well, I don’t advertise it." You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. "Didn’t think I’d ever need to."

He huffs a quiet laugh. "Lucky me."

"Lucky you," you agree, voice softer now.

Simon’s thumb brushes against your cheek, and there’s something raw in his expression. "So, that’s a yes, then?"

"To what?"

"Marry me."

"Simon—"

"You literally just saved my ass. Killed three men in our kitchen. Lookin’ downright stunning doin’ it." He squeezes your waist. "Think I’d be an idiot not to put a ring on you."

You stare at him, pulse thudding in your ears. "Simon, you’re literally bleeding out right now."

"And?" He tilts his head slightly, looking at you like he’s already made up his mind. "Still waiting on an answer, love."

You groan, pressing your fingers to your temple. "Can we please get you out of here first?"

"So that’s a yes?"

"It’s a 'get moving before I knock you out myself.'"

His smirk is lazy, but there’s something warm in his eyes, something real. "Close enough."

Behind you, Soap snorts. "Bloody hell, that was the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard."

Price sighs. "Sort it out later. We need to move."

You shake your head, but when Simon tugs you just a little closer before letting go—you know he already knows your answer.

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

@daydreamerwoah

[cloudyluun]

Serendipity & Stumbles

Summary: Based on this request. You never expected to keep bumping into Harry Styles, single dad and bookstore owner, but fate—and your kids—had other plans. From coffee shop disasters to rainy-night rescues, your lives keep tangling together, no matter how much you try to resist. But when two very determined little matchmakers step in, running might not be an option anymore.

Slow-burn, single-parent chaos, meddling kids, and Harry in full-on dad mode? Yeah, you’re in trouble.

A/N: I dragged this slow burn out on purpose. I made you suffer. And honestly? I’d do it again. Thanks for sticking around, even when you wanted to scream at them to just kiss already. This isn't proofread, sorryyy

Word Count: 8,4k

Warnings:

Single parent struggles (exhaustion, self-doubt, balancing work & motherhood)

Mentions of past unhealthy relationships (nothing graphic, but allusions to emotional difficulty & fear of attachment)

Slow-burn romance (painfully slow at times, because I like to make you suffer before the payoff 😌)

Lots of angst, mutual pining, and missed opportunities before they actually get their shit together

Fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth

Smut!!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you the moment you stepped inside the bookstore café, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder, guiding Lily toward an empty table near the window, where golden afternoon light streamed in.

She clutched her book to her chest, her small fingers curling around the edges of the worn cover like it was something precious. “Can I get a hot chocolate, Mummy?” she asked, peering up at you with wide eyes.

You smiled, smoothing down the flyaway curls at her temple. “Of course, love. Let’s get settled first, yeah?”

Balancing motherhood and work had turned you into an expert multitasker—or at least someone who tried very hard to be. You pulled out your laptop as Lily slid into the chair opposite you, already flipping through the pages of her book. The café was busy but cozy, the low hum of conversations blending with the clinking of mugs and the occasional flutter of a turned page.

This bookstore had quickly become your sanctuary—somewhere Lily could sink into stories while you answered emails or proofread articles. It was one of the few places where you could steal a moment of peace.

At least, until peace became a fleeting thing.

One second, Lily was happily stirring her hot chocolate, her lips moving as she silently read. The next, her elbow knocked against the cup, and the dark liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her dress.

She froze.

You saw the panic flicker across her face before the wobble in her lip began.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” you soothed, immediately reaching for the napkins. “We’ll clean it up.”

But her breath hitched, and her eyes grew glassy, the embarrassment of it all outweighing any comfort you could offer. You could see it coming—the slow build to a meltdown in the middle of a crowded café.

And then, a voice—warm, steady.

“Need some help?”

You looked up.

The man standing beside your table held out a stack of napkins, his green eyes bright with amusement but softened by something kinder. His dark curls were pushed back from his face, a few strands stubbornly falling forward. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, dressed in a sweater that hugged his frame just right, sleeves pushed up to reveal inked skin.

Lily sniffled, her tiny hands twisting in the fabric of her stained dress.

Harry Styles.

You knew of him, in the way that people who lived in the same neighborhood knew of each other. The bookstore café was his, after all. You’d seen him before, in passing—restocking shelves, chatting with customers, sometimes with a little boy by his side. But you’d never spoken beyond polite nods and murmured thank-yous.

You hesitated before taking the napkins, flashing a quick, grateful smile. “Thank you. She’s just—”

“Having a rough go of it,” he finished, nodding. “Understandable. Hot chocolate tragedies are serious business.”

Lily blinked up at him, her lip still wobbling but her sniffles slowing.

Harry crouched beside her, a small smile playing at his lips. “I’ve got a spare jumper in the back—belongs to my son. I can grab it for you, if you’d like.”

Lily glanced at you for reassurance. You squeezed her small hand before nodding. “That’s very kind of you.”

“No trouble at all,” he said before disappearing into the back of the shop.

Lily fidgeted in her chair, picking at the hem of her dress. “I didn’t mean to spill,” she murmured.

“I know, sweetheart,” you said softly. “It was just an accident.”

Before you could say more, Harry returned, holding out a navy-blue sweater. It was slightly oversized, well-loved, the sleeves a little worn at the cuffs.

“Here we go,” he said, handing it to Lily. “Theo—my son—outgrows things faster than I can keep up with, so we always have extras.”

Lily took it, her small fingers brushing against the soft fabric. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Harry smiled, standing back up to his full height. His eyes flicked to you, something unreadable in his gaze. “No need to give it back. Consider it a gift from one hot chocolate lover to another.”

A beat of quiet passed between you, something unspoken lingering in the air.

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Part of the job.”

Lily tugged the sweater over her dress, the sleeves hanging past her fingers. You expected her to protest, but instead, she let out a small giggle, wiggling her arms. “It’s soft.”

Harry grinned. “Glad you approve.”

You exhaled, finally allowing the tension in your shoulders to ease. “Well, thank you again. We really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving a small nod before turning back toward the counter.

You watched him go, your fingers absently tapping against your coffee cup.

You weren’t sure why, but something about the moment stuck with you longer than it should have.

Maybe it was the ease of it, the way Harry had stepped in without hesitation, like it was second nature for him to help. Maybe it was the way he spoke to Lily—not as if she were just a child, but like her feelings mattered. Or maybe it was the simple fact that for the first time in a long while, someone had made your chaotic day feel just a little bit lighter.

You thought about it again a few days later as you sat on a bench at the park, the cool afternoon air crisp against your skin. Lily was somewhere nearby, her laughter carrying on the breeze, but your eyes were glued to the screen of your laptop, fingers tapping against the keyboard as you proofread an article on deadline.

“Just five more minutes, baby,” you murmured absently, knowing she probably wasn’t even listening.

It was one of those afternoons where time felt both endless and fleeting. The playground was buzzing with energy—kids climbing, running, the occasional squeal of excitement cutting through the air. You weren’t really paying attention, though, too caught up in work, too focused on making sure the words in front of you made sense.

A few benches away, Harry was doing much of the same.

Phone in hand, he paced a few steps back and forth, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the mobile to his ear. His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in that concentrated way people had when they were trying to remain patient on a frustrating call.

Neither of you noticed at first.

Neither of you saw them.

Lily and Theo.

Two tiny forces of nature, colliding without you even realizing it.

It wasn’t until a burst of laughter pulled your focus that you finally looked up.

Your gaze landed on Lily first, standing in the middle of the grass, her hands on her hips, head tilted back in giggles. Across from her, a little boy—a year or so older, dark curls peeking out from beneath a beanie—was laughing just as hard.

They were playing together.

You blinked, momentarily thrown, scanning the area for whoever the child belonged to.

Harry’s voice was still a low murmur as he spoke into the phone, but his eyes had landed on the same scene. His expression softened instantly, the stress from his call momentarily forgotten.

Theo.

You recognized the sweater immediately—the sweater. The same one Harry had given Lily after the hot chocolate incident. It was still too big on her, the sleeves hanging past her fingers, but that wasn’t stopping her from flapping her arms dramatically while Theo doubled over laughing.

It was oddly fascinating, watching them.

Lily, typically so shy around new kids, was standing toe-to-toe with Theo, chattering animatedly, completely unbothered by the fact that they’d only just met. Theo, for his part, looked just as amused, his eyes bright with mischief, like he’d already decided they were going to be best friends.

Your lips twitched into an involuntary smile.

It was… sweet.

Something in your periphery shifted, and you realized Harry was looking at you now.

There was a moment—an unspoken, quiet kind of moment—where neither of you said anything. Just sat there, watching your kids become friends without effort, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Harry’s phone was still at his ear, but whatever conversation he was having was clearly secondary now. He shook his head slightly, amused, before rubbing a hand along his jaw, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Without thinking, you spoke.

“Well, this is convenient.”

Harry huffed a laugh, finally ending his call before slipping the phone into his pocket. “Guess they’re making the decisions for us now.”

You nodded toward them. “I take it Theo is the mastermind behind this plan?”

He smirked. “Oh, definitely. He’s got a talent for roping people into whatever ridiculous scheme he’s come up with.”

Lily’s laughter rang out again as Theo dramatically flopped onto the grass, pretending to faint over something she’d said.

You shook your head fondly. “I think Lily might have just met her match.”

“Looks that way,” Harry agreed, leaning back against the bench, his posture relaxed but his gaze still lingering on his son.

You let the silence stretch between you, comfortable in a way you didn’t expect.

It was a strange thing, this… whatever this was.

Before the café, Harry had been nothing more than a familiar face. A neighbor, a bookstore owner, someone you exchanged brief smiles with but never really knew.

Now, though—now, he was sitting next to you, watching your kids become fast friends, and somehow it didn’t feel like a coincidence at all.

Just as you were about to say something else, Lily ran up to you, breathless and grinning. “Mummy! Theo says he has a dog!”

Harry chuckled, clearly predicting where this was going.

“Not just a dog,” Theo corrected, running up beside her. “A really big dog.”

Lily’s eyes went wide. “Can I meet him?”

Harry shot you a look, brows raised in amusement. “You alright with that?”

You hesitated, caught between the natural urge to say no to anything spontaneous—and the realization that, maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to say yes.

After all… maybe there were worse things than a little serendipity.

That thought lingered in your mind long after the park playdate, long after Lily had chattered endlessly about Theo’s “really big dog” and how she was convinced they needed one just like him.

It was still there a week later, tugging at the edges of your thoughts as you walked into the parents' meeting at Lily’s school.

You weren’t particularly looking forward to it—these things were always a mix of too much small talk and too many emails you’d later forget to reply to—but you showed up, because that’s what you did. You juggled deadlines and grocery lists and bedtime routines, and you showed up.

Sliding into one of the chairs near the back of the classroom, you pulled out your notebook, half-listening as the teacher welcomed everyone and started discussing upcoming class activities. The words blurred a little, your mind already jumping to your to-do list for the rest of the day—until a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation beside you.

“Didn’t peg you for the back-row type.”

Your head turned sharply.

Harry.

Seated next to you, clad in a well-fitted jacket over a soft-looking jumper, casually sprawled in his chair like he wasn’t completely throwing off your focus. His green eyes flickered with amusement as he drummed his fingers lightly against the desk.

You blinked, momentarily thrown. “I—what?”

His lips twitched. “Back row. Feels like the kind of seat you pick if you’re planning to sneak out early.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Right, because I’m clearly a rebel parent.”

Harry smirked, but before he could respond, the teacher started explaining the logistics of an upcoming field trip, and the room quieted.

You tried to focus—you really did—but awareness prickled at you, your body attuned to the fact that Harry was right next to you.

It didn’t help that every now and then, you’d catch him glancing your way when the teacher said something mildly ridiculous, his expression just amused enough to make it harder to keep a straight face.

Or that when the topic of chaperones came up, Theo’s name was read out right before Lily’s, the realization settling between you with an unspoken of course they’re in the same class.

And maybe—just maybe—you didn’t miss the way Harry muttered a quiet figures under his breath, a slight shake of his head that made you bite back a smile.

By the time the meeting wrapped up, the teacher dismissing everyone with a reminder to sign up for volunteer slots, you were already gathering your things, ready to slip out—when Harry turned to you.

“Fancy a coffee?”

You froze for half a second.

It was a simple question. Harmless. A casual offer between two parents who, apparently, kept running into each other.

But something about the way he said it—the way his voice dipped just slightly, the way his eyes stayed steady on yours—made it feel less casual.

You hesitated.

And Harry, ever perceptive, caught it immediately. His posture shifted, something careful settling into his expression, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to push or back off.

“I mean,” he added, lightening his tone, “it’s just down the road. No pressure. Could be a good excuse to talk about how we’ve accidentally ended up with kids who seem hell-bent on becoming best friends.”

You swallowed, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter.

It was tempting. So tempting.

And maybe, once upon a time, you wouldn’t have thought twice about saying yes.

But you weren’t that person anymore. You’d learned to be cautious. To tread carefully when it came to things that had the potential to turn into more than just casual conversation.

And Harry—whether he realized it or not—felt like exactly that kind of thing.

So you smiled, polite but firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I should really get back to work.”

Harry didn’t miss a beat. Didn’t let disappointment show, though something unreadable flickered in his gaze before he nodded, easy and unbothered. “Fair enough. Another time, maybe.”

You hummed, noncommittal.

But as you turned to leave, your heart did this stupid, traitorous thing—this little lurch in your chest—because something in you already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time.

And, of course, you were right.

Because one week later, you were standing on the pavement, clutching Lily’s small hand, rain drenching through your coat as you tried—and failed—not to look as exhausted as you felt.

It had been a long day.

A really long day.

Your babysitter had canceled last minute, leaving you with no choice but to bring Lily along to your late-afternoon client meeting. She’d been good—so good—sitting quietly at the café table, coloring in the pages of her book while you discussed article revisions and deadline extensions. But by the time you stepped out into the dimly lit street, the sky had split open, rain coming down in relentless sheets, and you were both soaked before you even had the chance to open your umbrella.

You exhaled, pressing your palm against your forehead as you attempted to flag down a taxi. No luck.

“Mummy,” Lily whined, shivering beside you. “I’m cold.”

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby. I’m trying—”

A honk cut through the downpour.

You turned toward the sound just as a familiar black Range Rover slowed beside you, the driver’s window rolling down.

Harry.

His curls were a little messy, his face dimly lit by the dashboard lights, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he leaned slightly toward the open window. His brows knitted together the second he took you in.

“Are you seriously walking home in this?”

You blinked against the rain. “I don’t exactly have a choice, Harry.”

He scoffed, already reaching for the unlock button. “Get in.”

You hesitated.

Not because you didn’t want to—you were cold and exhausted, and Lily was on the verge of full-body shivers—but because the last thing you needed was to owe someone anything. To let someone in, even if only for a car ride home.

Harry must have noticed the reluctance on your face because his tone softened. “Come on. No agenda. Just two parents helping each other out.”

Before you could argue, the back door swung open.

“Mummy! Theo’s in here!” Lily’s delighted voice rang out, already scrambling into the seat beside him.

You turned sharply—traitor!—but Lily was grinning, the excitement of seeing her new best friend completely overriding any of your hesitation.

You sighed, defeated. “Guess we’re getting in the car.”

Harry smirked. “Guess you are.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car immediately soothing your frozen limbs. Your coat dripped against the leather as you fastened your seatbelt, and when Harry reached into the back and wordlessly handed you a hoodie—probably Theo’s again—you swallowed past the tightness in your throat before accepting it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He shifted the car into drive, glancing in the rearview mirror where the kids were already chatting excitedly. “Where to?”

You gave him your address, and he repeated it under his breath like he was committing it to memory.

The hum of the car filled the space between you for a moment, the rain drumming against the windshield. You were suddenly aware of how quiet it was in the front seat—how the easy banter you’d shared before wasn’t there now, replaced by something heavier.

“Long day?” Harry finally asked, his voice softer than before.

You exhaled. “You could say that.”

“I get it,” he murmured. “Some days just feel impossible.”

You turned to look at him, but his eyes stayed on the road, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

It would have been easy to nod and leave it at that.

But something about the way he said it—like he really did get it—made the words slip out before you could stop them.

“My babysitter bailed last minute,” you admitted. “Had to bring Lily to work with me. I know she didn’t mind, but it’s just… a lot, sometimes.”

Harry’s fingers tapped lightly against the wheel. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“It’s just you and Lily, then?”

You hesitated. Not because it was a secret, but because it was one of those questions that carried weight, even if it was asked casually.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Just us.”

Another pause. Then, quietly—

“Same. Just me and Theo.”

You glanced at him.

There was something different in his voice now, something laced with memory, something personal.

“What happened?” you asked gently.

He inhaled, long and slow. When he spoke, his voice was even, but you could hear the emotion beneath it.

“My wife—Theo’s mum—passed away a few years ago.”

Your chest tightened. “Harry, I—”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “It was… unexpected. One day we were planning holidays, the next, I was trying to figure out how to be a single dad.”

Your fingers curled into the sleeves of the hoodie.

You weren’t sure why, but something about hearing him say it—acknowledging it so openly, without dramatics, without self-pity—hit you harder than you expected.

“I left,” you admitted softly.

Harry turned, brow furrowing. “Left?”

You swallowed. “Lily’s dad. I left him.”

Understanding flickered in his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just waited.

You let out a slow breath, focusing on the rain streaking against the glass. “It wasn’t… good. I knew if I stayed, it would only get worse. So I left.” A pause. “For her. For Lily.”

Harry didn’t ask for details. Didn’t push.

He just nodded, like that was enough. Like he understood more than he was saying.

The air in the car was heavier now, but not uncomfortable. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t awkward sympathy. It was just two people, two parents, who had both lost something. Who were still finding their way forward.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, fingers hovering over the door handle.

“Thank you,” you said, meaning it more than you expected.

Harry met your gaze, something steady and unreadable in his expression. “Anytime.”

And as you climbed out, leading Lily inside, you realized that maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the last time, either.

And again, you were right.

Because the universe—or fate, or whatever force kept weaving Harry into your life—wasn’t quite done with you yet.

It started as a normal evening. A school event—one of those midwinter, PTA-sponsored gatherings where the kids were running on pure sugar-fueled excitement, and the parents were running on nothing but caffeine and obligation.

You had barely stepped inside the decorated gymnasium when Lily had spotted Theo, the two of them taking off toward the craft station without so much as a backward glance.

“Yeah, sure, don’t say goodbye,” you muttered, exhaling as you peeled off your coat and shoved your gloves into your bag.

“You get used to it.”

Your stomach dipped at the sound of his voice.

You turned to find Harry standing beside you, shaking snow out of his curls, his jacket dusted with white. He looked unfairly good for someone who had just come in from the cold—cheeks flushed, green eyes bright with amusement as he nodded toward the kids.

“First time they ditch you, it stings,” he continued, smirking. “By the hundredth time, you stop taking it personally.”

You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Good to know.”

For a while, the event played out exactly as expected—parents milling around making polite small talk, kids crafting messy holiday decorations that would inevitably end up forgotten at the bottom of their backpacks.

You kept an eye on Lily, but she and Theo were perfectly entertained, alternating between cookie decorating and attempting to build a fort out of the chairs in the corner of the room.

And then, just as you were considering sneaking off to the refreshment table for a refill on your coffee, the first announcement crackled through the speaker system.

A snowstorm.

A bad one.

Roads already piling up, traffic at a standstill. Everyone advised to stay put until further notice.

A slow, collective groan moved through the crowd.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your fingers over your temples.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Beside you, Harry let out a low whistle. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “You sound entirely too relaxed about this.”

He smirked. “Because I’ve accepted my fate.” He nodded toward Theo and Lily, who were thriving in the chaos, currently attempting to organize some kind of group game. “They, on the other hand, are living their best lives.”

You sighed, watching as Lily excitedly gestured for Theo to follow her to the makeshift play area.

“Traitor,” you muttered under your breath.

Harry chuckled. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward an empty classroom that had been opened up as an extra seating area. “Might as well find somewhere to sit before we’re reduced to standing in the hallway.”

You followed him, grateful for the momentary escape from the crowded gym.

The classroom was small, with a handful of desks pushed against the walls. Harry dropped into one of the chairs, stretching his legs out in front of him, while you settled into the seat beside him, cradling your coffee cup between your palms.

For a moment, there was nothing but the muffled sound of voices from the hallway, the occasional scrape of a chair from another room.

And then—

“So,” Harry mused, glancing sideways at you. “On a scale from mild to intervention-level dependency, how bad is your caffeine addiction?”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

He nodded toward your cup, smirking. “That’s, what, your third coffee tonight?”

You scoffed. “Second, actually. And I’ll have you know that my caffeine intake is perfectly normal.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I bet you have a thing too, don’t you?”

His brows raised. “A thing?”

“Yes. Some habit or vice you’re embarrassingly reliant on.” You smirked. “Let me guess—you’re a late-night snacker.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Not even close.”

You tapped your chin, pretending to consider. “Okay. Chronic over-user of pet names?”

His lips twitched. “I mean, love, I do have a tendency—”

You groaned. “Oh, that checks out.”

Harry grinned, his dimples deepening. “You got me.”

For a moment, the conversation settled into something easy, the banter light, playful. And you��despite the exhaustion, despite the long night ahead—felt…

Good.

Harry shifted slightly, watching you. “You’re smiling.”

Your brows furrowed. “I am?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “It’s nice.”

And that—that small, simple sentence—made something tighten in your chest.

Because Harry wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t teasing.

He was just… noticing.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen.

You cleared your throat, looking away, focusing on the rim of your cup. “Don’t get used to it.”

Harry chuckled, but didn’t press.

You sat there for a little while longer, the room quieter than the ones beyond it, but filled with something else.

Something unspoken.

Something that felt an awful lot like anticipation.

That’s what had been simmering under the surface ever since that snowed-in night at the school.

You told yourself it was nothing—that it was just the circumstances, the way you’d both been forced into conversation, the way time had slowed just enough for you to forget that Harry Styles was not supposed to be part of your life in any meaningful way.

But then came Saturday.

And Saturday ruined everything.

It had been Lily’s idea to go to the bookstore café, but you didn’t exactly fight her on it.

You could pretend all you wanted, but the truth was, you liked it there. The smell of coffee, the cozy chairs tucked between shelves, the soft murmur of people flipping through books—it was one of the few places in the city where your brain actually slowed down for a moment.

So, you’d packed up your laptop, bundled Lily in her coat, and headed down the familiar street, telling yourself that Harry might not even be working today. That it wouldn’t mean anything if you ran into him.

And then you walked inside, and he was right there.

Behind the counter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, laughing at something one of his employees had said before turning at just the right moment—seeing you.

His eyes brightened. “Look who it is.”

Your stomach flipped. Stupid. Completely ridiculous.

“Hi, Harry.” You cleared your throat, pushing past the way his smile made your chest feel tight. “Busy today?”

“Not too bad.” He leaned against the counter. “Here for your fix?”

You scoffed, already setting your bag down on the edge. “I’ll have you know I went an entire day without coffee yesterday.”

Harry placed a hand over his heart, mock-surprised. “I don’t believe you.”

You rolled your eyes, but Lily was less focused on your caffeine consumption and more on the glass case filled with pastries.

Harry caught her staring, smirking. “Hungry, love?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got some fresh croissants that need a home.” He grabbed a plate and slid two onto it before adding, “On the house.”

You immediately shook your head. “Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said simply, then met your gaze. “Stay. Sit down for a bit.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t loaded with anything, wasn’t flirtatious or heavy.

It was just… easy.

So you stayed.

You found a table near the window, sipping your coffee while Lily and Theo—who had conveniently appeared out of nowhere—settled on the floor nearby with a pile of books between them.

And somehow, Harry ended up in the chair across from you.

It wasn’t intentional. At least, you told yourself it wasn’t.

It was just conversation—banter, sarcasm, Lily’s constant interruptions to tell you random facts about the book she was reading.

And then… it wasn’t.

Because at some point, the edges of the conversation softened.

At some point, you started talking about things that weren’t just surface-level.

At some point, he told you about the bookstore—how it had started as a risk, how he wasn’t sure if it would work, but he’d wanted Theo to have a place to grow up around stories.

And at some point, you found yourself telling him about your writing, about the way you’d stumbled into freelancing after leaving your old life behind, about how sometimes, you missed the structure of an office, but mostly, you liked this. The freedom. The control over your own world.

Harry had listened.

Really listened.

And then he’d said something—something about how he admired that, about how he could see how much you’d built for yourself.

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when you realized.

This feels like a date.

The realization hit like a punch to the ribs.

Because it wasn’t a date. It couldn’t be.

You weren’t dating. You weren’t even thinking about dating. That wasn’t part of your life anymore, wasn’t something you could afford to let yourself want.

And yet—

You were sitting across from a man who made you feel like maybe it was.

A man who made it easy. Who made you laugh, who made you forget to keep your guard up, who looked at you in a way that made you feel like more than just a tired mother balancing a thousand things at once.

And that—that—was terrifying.

So, before he could say anything else, before you could let yourself sit in the moment for even a second longer, you panicked.

You shot up from your chair so fast Harry’s brows furrowed.

“I should go,” you blurted, already reaching for your bag.

Harry blinked. “What?”

You forced a smile. “I just—Lily has a lot of homework, and I need to—”

Harry wasn’t stupid.

You could see the confusion in his expression, the way his body tensed just slightly, the way his fingers curled around his mug like he was trying to figure out where the shift had happened.

But he didn’t push.

He just nodded, slow and careful, like he was trying to let you run if you needed to.

Lily pouted as you grabbed her hand, but she didn’t argue.

Harry said goodbye to her, ruffled Theo’s hair, then glanced back at you just once before you pushed open the door and stepped out into the cold.

And as you walked away—your heart pounding, your hands trembling—you told yourself you’d done the right thing.

You told yourself that leaving was better.

That letting him get too close would only make things harder.

You told yourself all of that.

And yet—

It didn’t stop you from feeling like you’d just made a mistake.

In fact, it only made it worse.

The whole way home, Lily kept glancing up at you, brows furrowed in confusion, like she knew something had happened but couldn’t quite figure out what. And the next morning, when she asked if you were going back to the bookstore soon, you’d mumbled something noncommittal, changed the subject, and buried yourself in work.

For days, you convinced yourself you’d done the right thing. That putting space between you and Harry was necessary. That whatever this strange, unexpected thing was between you—it wasn’t real.

But while you were busy trying to ignore it, two small, scheming masterminds were doing the exact opposite.

“I think my dad likes your mum.”

Theo’s voice was quiet, but not that quiet.

Lily, crouched beside him under the slide at the park, frowned. “I know.”

Theo blinked. “You do?”

Lily gave him a look, as if obviously. “He always smiles when she’s around. And he looks at her like my teacher looks at her coffee.”

Theo squinted. “Like he needs her?”

“Exactly.”

Theo leaned back, lips pursed in thought. “Well, that’s a problem.”

Lily nodded gravely. “Because my mum likes your dad, too.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Lily huffed, crossing her arms. “But she’s scared.”

Theo considered this, chewing on his lip. Then, slowly, a smirk stretched across his face.

“Well, that just means we have to fix it.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Theo grinned. “Leave that to me.”

You should have known something was up when Lily had asked—too sweetly—if you wanted to take her to the park that weekend.

You should have been suspicious when she mentioned, offhandedly, that Theo had told her he and Harry were going to be there at the same time.

But you—naive, unsuspecting, and still drowning in your own avoidance—had just gone along with it.

Which was exactly how you ended up here.

Standing at the edge of the field, watching as Theo and Lily cackled like tiny villains, while Harry—completely unaware of their plot—ran around playing soccer with them.

And you?

You were helpless.

Because, despite everything, despite every wall you had thrown up, despite every reason you had to keep your distance—you couldn’t look away.

Harry looked happy.

Really, truly happy.

His dimples were deep, his laughter loud and unrestrained. His curls were a mess from the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes crinkling at the corners as he dodged Theo’s attempt to steal the ball.

And Lily?

She looked just as free.

She wasn’t shy, wasn’t hesitating—she was grinning, giggling so hard that she tripped, falling right into Harry’s arms as he caught her mid-stumble.

And that—that moment—was what did it.

Because when Harry steadied her, ruffling her hair before sending her off again, you felt something click.

Something shift.

And suddenly, the thought you had been pushing away for weeks broke through like a crack in the dam, relentless and impossible to ignore.

This could be something.

Something good. Something real. Something you weren’t sure you were ready for—but something you didn’t want to run from anymore.

Because, maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t just serendipity.

Maybe it was something that was supposed to happen all along.

That thought followed you home. It followed you through dinner, through Lily’s animated retelling of her very official soccer victory, through the quiet moments when she was curled up in bed, her breathing slow and even.

And it followed you long after that, settling in your chest, stubborn and impossible to ignore.

Because you knew what you had to do.

So, the next afternoon, after too much pacing and too much overthinking, you found yourself standing outside the bookstore café, heart hammering as you pushed open the door.

Harry was behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he scanned the inventory list in front of him. He looked focused, but the second he glanced up and saw you, something flickered across his face—something cautious.

You swallowed. Right. You did that.

Taking a breath, you stepped forward. “Can we talk?”

He set the clipboard down, wiping his hands on a cloth before nodding toward the back. “Come on.”

You followed him past the bookshelves, through a small hallway that led to a quieter seating area. It was dimly lit, quieter than the front of the shop, and suddenly, this felt very real.

Harry turned to you, arms crossed, waiting.

You exhaled. “I—I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “For running. For… whatever that was.” You sighed, rubbing your hands over your jeans. “I got scared.”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. A quiet understanding settling between you.

“I get it,” he said finally. “But I need to know where your head is at, Y/N.” His voice was even, steady. “Because I don’t do games. I don’t do halfway.”

You swallowed, throat tight.

“I know.”

He stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours. “So, what do you want?”

You hesitated, heart pounding.

But then, you thought about Lily—your Lily. Thought about how effortlessly she had let Theo in, how much brighter she had been since meeting him.

And then, you thought about yourself.

About the way Harry made you laugh. About the way he looked at you—like you weren’t just a mother, just a woman who had learned how to live cautiously, but someone he saw.

And suddenly, the answer wasn’t scary anymore.

“I want to try,” you whispered.

Harry’s shoulders relaxed. His jaw unclenched. And then, slowly, carefully, he stepped forward.

His fingers reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Yeah?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Yeah.”

His lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything.

He just leaned in.

The kiss was soft.

Lingering.

Like it was meant to happen.

And maybe…

Maybe it was.

Maybe it had always been leading to this. To a quiet evening, to wine and laughter and the slow, inevitable pull of something neither of you could ignore any longer.

You weren’t supposed to end up at Harry’s place that night. It had started with dinner—just a casual thing, an unspoken agreement that whatever was growing between you should have space to exist outside of fleeting moments and bookstore conversations.

The kids had been there, of course. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t something you had planned.

But it had felt easy.

Effortless, even.

Like the four of you were already slipping into place, like Theo rolling his eyes at Lily’s terrible knock-knock jokes was as natural as Harry stealing a bite of food off your plate, smirking when you swatted at him.

And then, somehow, it had stretched later than expected.

The kids had curled up on the couch, movie playing softly in the background, their laughter slowly fading into soft, steady breaths.

And then—

Then it was just you and Harry.

Alone.

A glass of wine, the fire crackling softly in the background.

Your legs tucked under you as you sat on the couch, warmth settling in your limbs—not just from the wine, but from this. From him.

Harry leaned back, fingers tapping against his glass. “So.”

You raised a brow. “So?”

He smirked. “Are we still pretending this isn’t happening?”

Your breath hitched.

Because this.

This was happening.

The easy way he watched you. The way your body tilted toward him without thinking. The way you felt calm here, in his space, in this moment.

You exhaled, heart hammering as you set your wine down.

“I don’t want to pretend,” you admitted.

Harry studied you for a long moment. Then, slowly, he set his glass aside, shifting closer.

And when he leaned in—when he brushed his lips against yours, just barely, just enough to give you a chance to stop this—you didn’t.

You pressed closer.

And finally, finally, you let yourself fall.

Right into him. Right into the warmth of his hands, the steady press of his mouth, the way he didn’t hesitate when you kissed him back.

It was slow at first, unhurried and exploratory, like you were both learning something new—even though this had been building for months. Even though the tension between you had been simmering, bubbling over in every stolen glance, every playful smirk, every time he looked at you like he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

And now, you weren’t hiding anymore.

His hands found your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater, dragging you in until you were flush against him. He was so warm, the solid weight of his chest pressing into yours, his scent intoxicating—something woody, something clean, something completely Harry.

You let out a soft gasp when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing over yours in a slow, teasing stroke.

That sound—it did something to him.

Because suddenly, his grip tightened.

And then, you were moving.

He guided you backward until your lower back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. You barely had time to process the cool surface against your skin before his hands were everywhere—sliding beneath your sweater, mapping the curves of your waist, the dip of your spine, his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make you arch into him.

“Harry—”

He groaned at the way you said his name, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your thighs as he stepped between them.

And that was it.

That was the moment everything tipped over the edge.

Because then, Harry was everywhere.

His mouth was hot and insistent against your neck, dragging down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, nipping at your skin just enough to make you whimper.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he murmured against your throat, his voice thick, husky, wrecked.

Your breath hitched. “Me too.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, blown-out, his chest rising and falling as he scanned your face. Checking. Waiting.

You exhaled, chest tight, lips swollen from his kisses.

“I want this, Harry.” Your voice was quiet but firm. “I want you.”

Something in him snapped.

And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.

And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.

But not in the way you expected.

Because for all the urgency—the heat, the months of unresolved tension stretching between you—Harry didn’t rush.

He kissed you slowly, deliberately, his hands steady as they traced the outline of your body, as if he were memorizing you. Like he wanted to savor every second.

And when he finally lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly through the dimly lit hallway, you didn’t protest. Didn’t question it.

You just let yourself be his.

The bedroom was dark, moonlight pooling in through the window, the sheets cool against your back when he laid you down.

And for a moment—just a moment—Harry didn’t move.

He just looked at you.

His green eyes flickered over your face, your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell beneath him. His fingers skimmed up your thigh, teasing, light enough to make you shiver, before he leaned down, his lips hovering just over yours.

"You’re beautiful," he murmured. "You know that, right?"

Your breath caught.

Because it wasn’t a line.

He wasn’t trying to seduce you. He wasn’t saying it just to say it.

He meant it.

And you could feel yourself unraveling beneath him.

"Harry—"

But your words cut off when he kissed you again, deeper this time, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, tugging it up, peeling it off with aching slowness.

His hands traced over your bare skin, up your ribcage, over the dip of your waist. His touch was reverent, patient—like he wanted to learn every inch of you, every soft sound you made when he touched you just right.

Your hands were just as desperate, fingers threading into his curls, tugging lightly as you pressed up into him.

He groaned, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank off his own shirt, tossing it aside before meeting your gaze again.

You exhaled sharply, taking him in.

The tattoos you had only glimpsed before, now completely on display—the swallows over his chest, the butterfly below his ribs, the intricate designs that inked his arms, his stomach, his strong, solid frame.

And then, he kissed you again.

Slower this time. Deeper.

His mouth trailed lower, over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, his fingers working at the button of your jeans, slipping them down, kissing along every inch of newly exposed skin.

When his lips met the inside of your thigh, you gasped—gasped, because he was so close to where you needed him, but still taking his damn time.

"Harry—"

"Shh," he murmured, pressing a kiss higher, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. "Let me take my time with you, love."

And then, he did.

He kissed his way up your thighs, parting them further, his hands gripping your hips as his mouth finally—finally—pressed against you.

You gasped, back arching, fingers tangling into the sheets as he licked into you, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction, every sound that spilled from your lips.

"Fuck," you choked out, hips jerking involuntarily.

He hummed, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you as his tongue flicked exactly where you needed it, his hands holding you open, steadying you, grounding you.

And when he slipped a finger inside you—just one, at first, then another, curling them perfectly— you nearly came undone.

Your body tightened, the pleasure mounting too fast, too intense, and you could feel it—feel yourself teetering on the edge.

"That’s it," Harry murmured against you, his voice thick with lust and admiration. "Let go for me, love."

And you did.

Your orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure rolling through every inch of your body as your hips jerked against his mouth, his tongue not relenting—**not even for a second—**as he worked you through it, letting you fall apart completely.

By the time he finally pulled back, his lips were wet, his pupils blown, his expression completely wrecked.

"You taste fucking perfect," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning over you again, caging you in beneath him.

You were still shaking, still catching your breath, but you wanted more.

You needed more.

"Harry—"

He kissed you before you could finish, swallowing your words as he kicked off his jeans, rolling his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he was for you.

And then, finally, he lined himself up, pausing—just for a second.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing uneven.

"You okay?" he murmured, voice ragged.

"Yes," you breathed. "I want you."

That was all he needed.

And then, he pushed inside you.

A broken sound tore from his throat the second he was buried in you—deep, slow, perfect.

And you—fuck, you felt everything.

The stretch, the fullness, the delicious ache of him sinking into you, inch by inch, until he was completely inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching, his hands gripping your hips so tightly.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, letting you adjust, letting you feel him.

And then—

Then he pulled out, just enough before thrusting back in, deeper this time.

You gasped, fingers digging into his back, clinging to him.

It was slow at first. Deep and unhurried. Like he wanted to memorize you, like he wanted you to feel all of him.

But then—

Then you moaned his name.

And everything changed.

Harry growled, his grip tightening, his pace picking up, thrusting harder, faster, deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N—" His voice was wrecked, his body pressing you into the mattress, claiming you, ruining you.

And you—you didn’t care.

You wanted to be ruined.

You wanted all of him.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent shockwaves through you.

"You gonna come again for me, love?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Yes—Harry—fuck—"

"That’s it," he groaned. "Come for me."

And you did.

You shattered around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling as he followed right after, burying himself deep, spilling inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a long moment, the room was filled with nothing but harsh breathing, racing heartbeats, the aftermath of something that felt inevitable.

And then, Harry moved.

He didn’t pull away. Didn’t let you go.

He just wrapped himself around you, holding you close, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.

"Stay," he murmured, voice soft, tender.

And this time—

You didn’t run.

The smell of coffee woke you before the sunlight did.

Your body was aching in the best way, muscles deliciously sore, the sheets warm and soft against your skin. For a moment, you just laid there, blinking slowly, listening to the faint sounds of movement coming from beyond the bedroom door.

And then you realized.

You weren’t alone.

Not in the way you used to be.

Not in the way that had felt permanent for so long.

You exhaled, stretching slightly before sitting up, pulling the duvet tighter around you.

Harry’s shirt—which you had shamelessly stolen off the floor at some point during the night—hung loosely around your shoulders, smelling like him, feeling like him.

You pushed the bedroom door open quietly, stepping into the hall, and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen.

And the sight that greeted you?

It nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

Harry stood at the stove, clad in nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, a spatula in one hand, a coffee cup in the other.

And he wasn’t alone.

Theo and Lily sat at the kitchen island, chattering away, their legs swinging as they watched him flip pancakes.

Theo snickered. “That one’s burnt.”

Harry scoffed, dramatically flipping it onto a plate. “It’s golden brown, thank you very much.”

Lily giggled. “Theo says you always burn the first one.”

Harry smirked. “Well, your mum distracted me.”

At that, you cleared your throat.

Three heads turned toward you in unison.

Theo and Lily grinned.

Harry’s eyes flickered over you—his shirt swallowing your frame, your bare legs peeking out from underneath.

And then, slowly, he smirked.

“What?” you asked, fighting back a smile.

His dimples deepened. “You like seeing me in dad mode?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab a mug from the counter. “I think I just like seeing you.”

Harry stilled for half a second.

And then, with zero warning, he was behind you—wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

Your breath hitched. “Harry—”

“Get used to it, love,” he murmured against your skin.

Your heart stumbled.

And suddenly, you knew.

This was real.

This was yours.

And for the first time in a long, long time…

You weren’t afraid.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

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[rafayelxsylusho]

Hey love, your LADs fics are 🥵🔥🫠.

If you are accepting requests, could you pls write a College AU with the LADS men?

A study sesh leads to smut (can include love confession if not in established relationship).

Have a lovely day/night~ 💖

I hope I did it right. Enjoy!

College AU with the LADS men 🎓

Part 1: Zaynexreader

TW: SMUT

**Both reader and Zayne are Med students**

Zayne looks up from his textbook, his eyes meeting yours as you walk into his dorm room. His room is tidy, almost clinically so, really different from your own chaotic space down the hall. Zayne has always been the organized one, the responsible one, while you...well, you were something else.

"Your room is still a disaster zone, I take it?" he asks, arching an eyebrow. When you smile and nod, he laughs softly and shakes his head. "I don't know how you manage to live in such chaos."

Zayne's gaze drifts over your textbooks stacked in your arms, his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your appearance, noting the dark circles under your eyes and the way you seem to be running on pure adrenaline. He sets his textbook aside and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"Tell me you got some sleep last night," he says, there is concern in his voice. "You look exhausted, y/n. I know this semester has been tough on you." he looks at you like a parent waiting for their child to confess to staying up too late. "And your test?" he asks when you don't immediately answer. "How did it go?" Zayne knows you had an important test this morning. He's been quietly supportive, offering to quiz you or just listening as you vented about the material leading up to it.

"I survived," you sigh, as you flop down on the bed across from Zayne's desk. "But I don't think I did as well as I needed to. I swear, every time I think I've got it, I realize there's a whole other layer to learn."

You groan, burying your face in one of his pillows for a moment before sitting back up to look at him "I don't know how you do it Zayne. Don't you ever just want to give up?"

He stands and walks over to his mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this. You look dehydrated." Zayne gives you the bottle before sitting on the edge of his bed next to you. His brow furrows with concern as he watches you drink deeply from the water bottle, his eyes searching yours.

"Y/n, how many hours of sleep did you actually get last night?"

"Two," you say quietly. " Maybe a little more". His expression softens as he listens to you. He knew you were pushing yourself too hard, but hearing the confirmation of just how little sleep you'd gotten hits him like a punch to the gut.

"Lay down for a bit. I'll wake you up in two hours, and we can continue with your study session then." There's a gentle authority in his voice, Zayne's not going to let you talk your way out of this one. He knows you need the rest, and will make sure you get it.

As you hesitate, he reaches out to take the now empty water bottle from your hands, setting it aside on the nightstand. His fingers linger on yours for just a moment, a silent plea for you to listen to him.

"Please," he murmurs, his eyes holding yours. "You can't keep doing this. You need to take care of yourself if you want to make it through this program." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly over the dark circle beneath your eye. It's a tender gesture, full of care and concern. He's not just your study partner and best friend, he's the one person who truly sees you, exhaustion and all.

"Fineeeee, whatever you say Dr Zayne"

He watches as you lay down on the bed, your head coming to rest on the pillow. He feels a bit of concern seeing you so drained, but also a sense of relief that he convinced you to get some much needed rest. Almost as soon as your head touches the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens out.

You startle awake, your heart racing. You're not used to sleeping so deeply, especially not in the middle of the day. As you blink the sleep from your eyes, you become aware of a warm, solid presence next to you on the bed. Turning your head slowly, you find yourself face to face with Zayne, his body next to yours. He must have dozed off while you were sleeping, still clutching his textbook in his hands, now lying open and forgotten. Soft snores escape his slightly parted lips, a light frown etched between his eyebrows as if even in sleep, he's focused on the complex medical diagrams. He looks almost boyish in sleep, the hard lines of his face softening, a lock of dark hair falls across his forehead, and there's a vulnerability to his stillness that makes your heart clench. For a moment, you just watch him, taking in the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the long lashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks. Then, carefully, you reach out and pluck the textbook from him setting it aside. Zayne stirs slightly at the loss of the book, but doesn't wake. In sleep, his hand finds yours, as he settles closer to you. Your fingers intertwine instinctively, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you at the contact.

You feel the heat of Zayne's breath ghosting over your face. Even in sleep, he seems drawn to you, his hand tightening around yours as if he's afraid you might disappear if he lets go. A soft blush rises to your cheeks at the intimacy of the moment, at the way Zayne's face is inches from your own. Your heart starts to race for a different reason now, a fluttering sensation that has nothing to do with the sudden awakening and everything to do with the man next to you.

You've shared countless study sessions, late night talks, and inside jokes with Zayne, but this...this feels different. More intimate. More charged with a tension you've never dared to acknowledge before. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment you think he might wake. You hold your breath, but he doesn't wake. Instead, he just sighs softly, his breath fanning over your lips. You know you should pull away, give him space, but you find yourself rooted to the spot. Captivated. Your free hand comes up to brush a lock of hair from Zayne's forehead, your fingertips lingering on the soft skin. He's so warm. So real. So...inviting.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the water Zayne had given you earlier. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you see Zayne's eyes flutter open at the movement. For a moment, you're frozen, caught in the hazel gaze that seems to see right through you. Then, slowly, Zayne's eyes focus on you. Confusion clouds them for a moment before a flicker of something else, something hotter, sparks in their depths. His grip on your hand tightens.

"You're awake," he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. His gaze drops to your mouth, stays there for a long, charged moment. You feel your heart pounding against your ribs, your breath coming faster. The air between you feels thick, heavy with a tension you've never dared to put a name to before. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a sensual caress that sends a shiver up your spine. "How are you feeling?" he asks, but there's something else to his question, a double meaning that makes your cheeks flush hotter. And you know you should answer, should break this moment with a silly comment or a joke but you can't seem to find your voice. You're too busy drowning in the heat of Zayne's eyes too busy wanting...wanting more. Wanting to close the small distance between you and feel his lips on yours, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer until there's no space left between your bodies.

But you don't. You can't. Because this is Zayne. Your best friend, the one person you trust above all others. The one person you can't afford to mess this up with, so instead of giving in to the temptation, you take a deep, shuddering breath and try to gather your composure. You wet your dry lips again, your voice a bit husky as you manage to choke out an answer.

"I...I feel better," you whisper, your eyes still locked with his. "Thank you for...for letting me sleep." It's a clumsy reply, but it's the best you can manage in this moment.

Zayne's eyes search yours for a moment, as if trying to find the true meaning behind your words. Then, slowly, he nods and starts to sit up, his hand sliding from yours and leaving you feeling suddenly cold. "I'm glad, you needed the rest." He glances at the clock on the wall and frowns slightly. "I'm afraid I may have let you sleep a little longer than we intended though."

He starts to gather up the scattered pages of his textbook, his movements a little stiff, a little self-conscious. It's clear that he's feeling the shift in the atmosphere as much as you are. "We should probably get back to studying," he says, not meeting your gaze as he stacks the pages neatly. "You've got that big test coming up, and you need to be ready." He says it lightly, but there's a tightness to his voice that wasn't there before. A tension that has nothing to do with the impending test.

You nod slowly, sitting up as well and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You feel a little unsteady, a little off-balance. And it's not from the sudden awakening.

"Yeah," you agree softly. "You're right. I should get back to it."

You stand up, stretching slightly to work the kinks out of your muscles. As you do, you catch Zayne watching you from the corner of your eye, his gaze intense and unreadable. A shiver runs down your spine at the weight of it, and you quickly busy yourself with straightening out the rumpled blanket on the bed, avoiding his stare. "I'll just...I'll just go freshen up real quick" You say, hurrying towards the bathroom, needing to put some space between you, to collect your racing thoughts and calm the frantic pounding of your heart.

Once you are in the bathroom you splash water on your face, and take a few deep breaths, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. But no matter how much cold water you use, you can't seem to banish the memory of Zayne's sleep-roughened voice, the heat of his breath on your face, the way his hand felt curled around yours.

You shake your head sharply, pushing the thoughts away. You can't afford to think like that, not about Zayne. He's your rock, your constant, the one person you know you can always count on. You can't risk destroying that.

Squaring your shoulders, you take one last deep breath and step back out into the bedroom. Zayne is sitting on the bed, his textbooks spread out in front of him, his glasses perched on his nose as he scans the pages intently. For a moment, he looks like a picture of concentration, the very image of the dedicated medical student. As you approach, he glances up, and you see the flicker of something else in his eyes. Something warmer. Something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. "Is everything all right?" he asks softly, a note of genuine concern in his voice. He stands up, taking a step towards you, and you find yourself looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

"I...yes," you manage to say, your voice a little steadier than before. "Everything is fine.

"Good," he says, and there's a quiet satisfaction in his voice. He gestures to the bed, "It will be good for us to review the material together," Zayne continues, his voice warm and encouraging. "We can go over the key points and make sure you've got a solid grasp of everything before the test"

He steps closer to you, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back as he guides you towards the bed. The touch is innocent, a gesture of friendship and support "Sit down," his breath stirring the hair at your temple. "Let's get to work."

Zayne watches as you chew thoughtfully on a grape, your eyes scanning the medical text. Hours have passed, and despite the late hour, you're both still engrossed in the material, determined to ensure you're fully prepared for the upcoming test. As Zayne sits in his chair, he flips to a new page in his textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he glances up at you, ready to ask a question, he notices a small, glistening droplet of grape juice on your lower lip.

For a moment, he's distracted, his focus torn between the anatomical diagram on the page and the tempting sight before him. He clears his throat softly, trying to regain his train of thought.

"Y/n," he begins, his voice a little rougher than before. "What are the primary symptoms of acute kidney injury?"

As he waits for your response, Zayne finds himself leaning forward slightly, his gaze still fixed on your mouth. The drop of juice on your lip, threatening to drip down at any moment.

He swallows hard, his heart beating a little faster in his chest. He knows he should look away, should focus on the important task at hand. But he can't seem to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of you.

Finally, as if sensing his stare, you glance up from the textbook. Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, time seems to slow. Zayne's breath catches in his throat as he realizes he's been caught staring, his pulse jumping at the realization.

"The primary symptoms are...decreased urine output, blood in the urine, swelling in the legs or ankles, nausea, and fatigue." You begin, your voice clear and confident despite the late hour.

As you speak, he watches, as the grape juice slowly slides down the curve of your lip. It leaves a glistening trail in its wake, a path that draws his eye like a magnet.

"And then there's the secondary symptoms," you say, unaware of the effect you are having on him "Hematuria, azotemia, electrolyte imbalances..."

As you speak, he feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between you, to lean in and catch that glistening drop of grape juice with his tongue.

When the thought hits him it leaves him momentarily breathless. In this moment, with the late hour and the intensity of your study session, he finds himself fighting with a desire he's long suppressed.

As you wrap up your explanation, Zayne quickly looks down at his textbook, needing a moment to collect himself. He clears his throat, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his pants and the heat rising in his cheeks.

"That's...that's correct, y/n," he manages to say, his voice a little rougher than intended. "You've got a solid grasp of the material. That's impressive."

You smile at Zayne's praise, feeling a surge of pride and accomplishment. The late-night study session had been intense, but seeing the approval in his eyes made it all worthwhile. As your smile widened, the droplet of grape juice that had been perched on the curve of your lower lip began its descent.

Zayne, already on edge and distracted by his sudden surge of desire, doesn't hesitate. Acting on pure instinct, he reaches out and across the short distance between you, his thumb outstretched. In a soft gesture, he brushes his thumb along your chin, catching the errant drop of juice before it can fall any further. The touch is brief but electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you can react, Zayne's thumb trails upwards, coming to rest gently on the plush, soft skin of your lower lip. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and in that moment, the air between you feels charged with a new energy. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours as his thumb lightly traces the curve of your lower lip. He's waiting for a reaction, for any sign that you feel it too this sudden, undeniable spark of attraction that's impossible to ignore.

His voice is a low murmur, almost a whisper, when he finally speaks. "You had a little... grape juice," he explains unnecessarily, his thumb still resting on your lip. "I just... I couldn't let it go to waste."

He feels his breath hitch in his throat as your small, pink tongue darts out and laps at the remnants of the grape juice on his thumb. The sensation of your wet, warm tongue against his skin sends a jolt of electricity straight through him, settling heavily in his lower abdomen.

"Now it won't," you say softly

As you hold his gaze, Zayne feels the last of his restraint slipping away. The walls he's built to keep his feelings locked away, crumble like sandcastles against a tide.

Slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, Zayne leans in closer. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his long fingers splaying gently against the warm, smooth skin. He tilts your chin up slightly, angling your face towards his.

"I've wanted to do this for so long, y/n," he confesses. The scent of his words is tinged with the faint aroma of the grapes you were eating, a heady and intoxicating combination. His eyes flick down to your lips, now glistening and parted slightly from your earlier actions.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained with tension. "Tell me you don't feel this too, and I'll stop. But god, I need to know if you want this as much as I do."

Your heart races as you feel Zayne's breath mingling with yours, his lips now centimeters away from your own. The heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, it's all so overwhelming and intoxicating.

"Don't stop," you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. It's all you manage to say before you close the final centimeter of space between you, your lips pressing softly against his. The moment your mouths meet, it's like a spark igniting a wildfire. Zayne's lips are soft and firm against your own, molding to the contours of your mouth as if he was made to fit there.

You hear a low groan escape from the back of his throat as you deepen the kiss. His fingers tighten slightly on your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheekbone. You press closer, your hand coming up to tangle in the short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers thread through the silky strands, anchoring him to you as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth moving against your own.

Zayne pulls back from the kiss just enough to hook his hands under your armpits. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he lifts you up and out of the bed, bringing your body flush against his own. As his lips claim yours again, his hands slide from your armpits down to your waist. He grips you firmly, his long fingers splaying across the small of your back as he pulls your curves snugly against the hard planes of his own body.

Still lost in the intensity of the kiss, he starts to walk you backwards, his body pressed against yours, until the soft give of a wall meets your back. He breaks the kiss just briefly as your back hits the wall, long enough to flash you a look that's equal parts hunger and desperation. His eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide with desire, and his chest heaves with each breath he takes.

"You drive me crazy," he rasps, his voice strained and rough with want. "If I take you to bed now, I won't be able to hold back. I'll lose control, and I don't want to rush this."

You close the distance once again and your teeth graze his bottom lip "Please Zayne" you whisper.

Unable to resist your urging, Zayne gives in to your demand. He leans into you, allowing you to tug his shirt upwards and expose the toned, muscular chest beneath. His abs are defined, each muscle group carved by years of dedicated discipline. As his shirt clears his head, Zayne captures your wrists in his hands, pinning them gently but firmly against the wall on either side of your head. He looms over you, his larger frame caging you in, his eyes roaming hungrily over your face and body.

"Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n. I need to hear you say it."

His hips press against yours, the hard, thick length of him evident even through the fabric of his pants. He grinds slowly against you, letting you feel every inch of his desire. His hand releases one of your wrists to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the rough, desperate edge in his voice.

"Tell me," he demands, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything."

"Zayne," you breathe out, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you, all of you" You feel his hands grip the backs of your thighs, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he hoists you up. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he pins you against the wall with his hips. Once he feels your legs secure around him, Zayne's hands slide up, his palms skimming over your thighs and coming to rest on your hips. He squeezes gently, his fingers digging into your curves as he holds you in place. Sensing your movements, Zayne leans back just enough to allow you to remove your shirt. As the fabric falls away, revealing your bare skin and the delicate lace of your bra, his breath catches in his throat.

"Fuck" he breathes out, his gaze hungry as it roams over your exposed flesh. Unable to resist, Zayne leans down and starts to place open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His lips and tongue map out the delicate skin, tasting you, teasing you, as his hands slide up your sides. They come to rest just below the band of your bra, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and filled with promise, silently asking for your permission to continue.

You reach back, fingers unhooking the clasp of your bra. The lace falls away, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, your chest heaving with each breath, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room.

"Perfect," Zayne murmurs, his voice a low, appreciative rumble. "Absolutely perfect."

He lowers his head and draws one straining peak into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, teasing it, before he suckles hard. His other hand kneads the soft weight of your other breast, rolling and plucking at the neglected nipple. Zayne's hips press harder against yours, the thick ridge of his arousal grinding against your core.

"Zayne," you gasp, your head falling back against the wall as pleasure courses through you. "Please, I need more." Your hands fist in his hair, anchoring him to you as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to take you.

Zayne releases your breast with a wet pop, his lips moving to your other breast to give it the same treatment. He suckles and nips, his teeth grazing your skin, marking you. His mouth never leaves your breasts as he carries you towards the bed, his lips and tongue continuing their relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. He walks backwards and as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, Zayne sits down, allowing you both to tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. He rolls you over, positioning you beneath him. Zayne's hands roam your body, caressing every curve and dip, as if committing your form to memory.

Still focused on your breasts, he kisses and licks, suckles and nips, until your back arches off the bed and your fingers tangle almost painfully in his hair. Your nipples are reddened and swollen, glistening with his saliva, and aching for more of his touch. Zayne pauses in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a playful smirk as he slowly unzips your skirt. As he removes it he takes in the sight of your blue panties adorned with a tiny snowman.

"I wasn't exactly planning on seducing you tonight," you admit with an embarrassed blush, biting your lower lip. "I didn't think we'd end up like this."

Zayne's eyes soften as he takes in the pretty blush coloring your cheeks and the swell of your breasts. He finds your embarrassment endearing, charming even. It's a rare sight, given how composed and put together you usually are.

Zayne shakes his head and smirks "I'm glad you didn't plan this," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Because if you had, you might not have chosen such...cute underwear"

He glances down at the snowman grinning up at him, then back to your blushing face, his smirk widening into a genuine, boyish grin. "Don't worry, sweetheart. They're perfect. Just like you, but let's get rid of them, shall we?" he whispers, his voice low and seductive "I want to see all of you."

Zayne takes his time peeling your panties down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin. As the fabric slips past your knees, he tosses them carelessly aside, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

When you instinctively close your legs, Zayne pauses, his hands resting on your thighs. "Open them for me, pretty girl," his voice filled with desire. His hands start to slowly push your thighs apart, his thumbs brushing over your inner thighs and sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, and when your legs part for him, his gaze drops to your exposed sex, his eyes darkening with hunger and need.

"Fuck, love," he breathes out, his voice strained. "You're so beautiful. I could look at you for hours." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh, making you shudder in anticipation. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, before placing a soft, open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. His lips and tongue work their way slowly up your inner thigh. He places kisses to your skin, occasionally grazing it with his teeth, sending jolts of pleasure and pain straight to your core. He takes his time, savoring your taste and scent, drawing out your anticipation and desperation. The closer he gets to your aching, empty sex, the more your hips squirm and cant upwards, seeking his touch.

"Zayne, please," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him on. He nips at the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your sex, making you gasp and your hips jerk involuntarily. He places another kiss, higher this time, his lips brushing against your lower lips. At the same time, he pushes your thighs further apart, opening you up to him completely.

"Tell me what you want," he urges, his breath hot against your cunt. "Tell me how you want me to touch you."

"Please, I need your mouth on me. I need your tongue, your fingers, something."

Without warning, he dives in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that steals your breath away.He kisses and sucks, his lips moving against your sensitive flesh as he explores every inch of you. His tongue delves between your folds, stroking along your slit and dipping teasingly inside you.

"Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined," Zayne rumbles, his words muffled against your sex. He looks up at you, his eyes glinting as he holds your gaze. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours, my love."

He then seals his mouth over your clit, suckling hard as he slides two long fingers deep inside you. He pumps them slowly, curling and twisting, stroking that spot that makes you moan his name. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Suddenly he pauses, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. He smirks, his fingers still buried deep inside your throbbing sex. "How about we make this interesting, love? We can practice what you've learned today."

He starts to withdraw his fingers slowly, his thumb brushing over your clit and making you gasp. "Let's start with a simple one. What's the medical term for the heart?" He watches your face, his fingers poised at your entrance, waiting for your response.

"Fuck, it's c-cardio," you stutter out, your voice breathless and shaky with desire.

"Good girl," Zayne purrs, rewarding you with a slow lick along your slit. "What's the primary function of the kidneys?" His fingers dip back inside you, pumping shallowly, teasing you as he waits for your answer. Your hips twitch, trying to pull him deeper, but you force yourself to focus.

"F-filtration and secretion," you manage to say, your words coming out in a rush.

"That's right," Zayne murmurs, placing another lingering lick on your clit before suckling gently, rewarding your correct answer. "The liver's main function?"

"Nghh, m-metabolism and detoxification," you gasp, your head falling back as pleasure courses through you.

"Mmm, excellent. The brain's primary function?"

"I can't....Zayne please..." you pant, your fingers gripping the sheets as you fight the urge to grind yourself against Zayne's face. "I...its controlling and coordinating actions and..and ...activities,"

He wraps his lips around your clit and gently sucks it, his fingers pump faster, curling to stroke that special spot inside you with each thrust. You can feel your release building, your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"Lungs' primary function?" Zayne asks, his voice a low rumble against your sex.

"Res...respiration," you cry, your hips bucking up to meet his hand as your climax fast approaches.

"That's my clever girl," Zayne praises, sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking gently once again.

Zayne feels your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, knowing you are teetering on the brink of your climax. He looks up at you with intense eyes, his voice low and urgent.

"This is the most important question, my love. How many chambers does the heart have?"

His fingers pump faster, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Four!" you scream, your voice breaking and cracking with the intensity of your impending climax. At your desperate scream of the correct answer, Zayne dives back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with renewed hunger. His tongue circles your clit exactly four times, each rotation perfectly measured and deliberate.

As he completes the fourth rotation, you finally shatter. Your body convulses as your orgasm crashes over you like, your sex clenching and fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Zayne groans, feeling your release gush over his tongue and fingers. He works you through it, his mouth and hands never stopping their assault, drawing out your pleasure until you collapse back onto the bed, boneless and spent.

Zayne crawls up your body, his eyes filled with satisfaction and pride. He cups your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath away. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you feel more desired.

"Good girl," Zayne praises. "You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you."

You try to sit up, but Zayne gently but firmly presses you back down onto the bed, his hands resting on your shoulders. He shakes his head, giving you a playful smirk as he tucks you in snugly under the covers, pulling them up to your chin.

"Where do you think you're going, love? You need to rest now," Zayne says softly, his voice filled with a tender warmth that makes your heart flutter. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering to caress your cheek.

"You've had a long day. I want you to sleep now, sweetheart. Let your body recover and recharge." He settles in next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you close, spooning you from behind. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair as he holds you possessively, protectively.

His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles, a comforting, lulling motion. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back and the soothing sound of his voice soon has you both drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Unaware that once you both become respected doctors in your respective fields, you find yourself transported back to this day every time someone mentions the four chambers of the heart.

It could be during a lecture, a patient consultation, or even a casual conversation with a colleague. The moment the words "four chambers" leave their lips, you're instantly transported back to that bedroom, with Zayne's head between your legs, his tongue circling your clit in perfect, deliberate rotations as you screamed out the answer that brought you to the most intense orgasm of your life.

You'll feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you'll have to bite back a smile, glancing over at Zayne to see if he was also transported to that moment. More often than not, you catch him looking at you with a knowing, smoldering gaze, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. You know he's thinking about the same thing.

I

[k1ng-ej]

Hello~!!! Could you write a shadow x gn! reader fic of shadow taking reader out for valentines day? take your time, thank you!!

I believe in a thing called Love - Shadow x Reader

Note: thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy :) all other requests are in the works currently

You sighed with disappointment, fingers lightly thrumming along the armrest of the couch. The TV played a movie in the background, providing a comfortable atmosphere for you to get lost in your thoughts. Shadow promised you weeks ago that you two would do something nice for Valentine's day, you hadn't figured out what exactly, but you assumed he would come up with something. You didn't care if you stayed in, or went out, you just wanted to enjoy the company of your partner for the day. Shadow was often busy, but he tried his best to make every moment he was home a memorable one. You took a glance at the window, the sky had already begun to darken, splashes of pink and orange painting the previously blue canvas as the sun kissed the horizon. Doubt was creeping in despite how many times you told yourself Shadow never broke promises. He has made you many promises throughout your relationship, and he has not broken one, yet.

A white flash assaulted your retinas, you instinctively screwed your eyes shut until it was over. Shadow stood just in the entryway of the living room, his lips resting in a fine line and his brows naturally furrowed.

"Welcome home." You sighed, leaning your chin against your palm. Maybe he forgot what day it was, that made you disappointed. Shadow didn't seem like someone who forgets days that are important to you, he tries his best to be the perfect partner for you, despite him being very closed off. He is not good with words, but he makes up for it through actions. There has been instances in your relationship where you become frustrated with him because you cant quite understand what goes on through his head, and he doesn't tell you. In these moments Shadow will get quiet, approach you with a soft look in his eyes and tell you he's sorry, all while peppering kisses along your face. This is usually enough to make you forgive him.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Shadow begin to approach. You were expecting an excuse as to why he had been gone all day, followed up by an apology. His gloved hand outstretched toward you, beckoning you to take it. You looked up with a quirked brow to see a fond smile dancing across his lips. "I want to take you somewhere."

Slowly, you placed your hand in his, and he gave you a gentle yet firm squeeze as he pulled you up from the couch. Excitement bubbled in your chest, was he finally taking you out? You couldn't help the grin that stretched across your lips and the giggle that escaped you as Shadow swooped you into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

"Close your eyes, it's a surprise." His breath was warm against your ear, you could feel the vibrations from his chest as he spoke. You obliged, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"Is this my valentines surprise?"

"You'll see." You felt the soft sensation of his lips on your forehead for a split moment before it was gone, you yearned for more. Shadows grasp on you tightened before you heard him call out 'Chaos Control', behind your closed lids you could see the bright flash, and you clung onto him as the world around you began to warp and change.

The soft thud of Shadows feet planting on the ground broke the silence, next came the soft chirping of birds and a gentle cool breeze. You shivered, nuzzling into the warmth of your boyfriend, who chuckled at you. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes, you may open your eyes now." Shadow slowly set you onto your feet, keeping his hand on your lower back until you could balance yourself. You let your eyes peel open and take in your surroundings, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. In front of you was a small, but fancy diner you always dreamt of coming to. It emitted an intimate and elegant atmosphere with its dark colors, and warm overhead lighting. From outside of the glass entrance doors you could see empty two seater tables that had fancy white cloths draped over them. On top of the tables were menus, empty wine glasses and a lit candle in the middle. You stared in awe, mouth slightly agape before you spun to face shadow.

"You shouldn't have! I mean really, this place is so expensive and, gosh, this is for, like, anniversary dinners-"

"Price does not matter to me. You are always talking about this diner and how much you would love to eat here one day, that day is today. I'm sorry for being absent all day, it was much harder to rent out the place than I thought." He cut you off with a shake of his head, stepping forward and taking your hand into his. He wore a fond smile as he placed a kiss on your knuckles. "You deserve to eat at all of the fancy restaurants you desire." His half-lidded gaze set butterflies off in your stomach, and you felt heat quickly form on your cheeks.

"Thank you, Shadow. This is really sweet of you." You offered him a warm smile before he started leading you inside. Upon stepping in, warm air hugged you like a blanket, immediately soothing the chills you had from being outside. A hostess greeted you both and led you to your table, it was located near a window, giving you view of the setting sun over the ocean. You thanked the hostess as you sat down across from shadow, taking the menu in your fingertips and scanning through it. You hadn't expected him to rent out an entire restaurant for you two, let alone such an expensive one. You made a mental note to thank him again later. After choosing what you were going to order you placed the menu back on the table only to be greeted by a pair of crimson eyes looking at you.

"Something on my face?" You asked with a chuckle, resting your hands in your lap.

"Just admiring you." His voice was just above a whisper, he had his face leaning against his hand. Somehow, even though you two were in a relationship he never failed to make you feel like you were crushing on him all over again. He still had the ability to make you blush like crazy, and get shy with him. It was rare that Shadow acted cheesy and romantic, but when he did he had your heart racing and your face as red as a tomato. A smirk played across his lips as you blushed at his words, turning your gaze to anything but him. Not long after a waitress came and took your orders, quickly scurrying off as to not disturb your romantic evening.

While waiting for your food and drinks, you let yourself get lost in the view beside you. The sky was beginning to dark, allowing for it's stars to shine beautifully. The reflection of the sun on the water paired with the stripe of orange in the sky created a picture worthy sight. However, as you glanced back to the hedgehog in front of you, you concluded that he was the better view, one that would not disappear when night fell, one that did not change throughout the days, he remained the same, he remained perfect. Sunsets can easily be covered by gloomy clouds, shielding it's beauty from the rest of the world. There were no clouds to cover Shadows beauty, every day, he would shine brightly, like the sun to your moon, but he would never set. He was always visible to you, the warmth of his rays always there to keep your heart and soul from becoming too cold.

You watched as Shadow opened his mouth to say something, he hesitated, looked away, then looked back to you with certainty in his eyes. "I love you."

[rafescherie]

rafe cameron getting himself off …

warningsᝰ.ᐟ MDNI 18+. male masturbation, mentions of drug-use, & mentions of sexual desires with unspecified relationships

cherie’s note — this was written with season one rafe in mind because i would absolutely gobble him down if i could (i’m lowkey a pervert)

he gets turned on so easily — this boy gets absolutely no play, no attention from women & is lowk a porn freak. wearing a low cut shirt around him? boner. in a bathing suit? boner. touchy with him? boner. talk to him in the softest most innocent voice you can and he’s gonna cum in his shorts on the fucking spot, like i don’t know what to tell you.

i think he lowk be jorking it more than a few times a week — his favourite thing to do after a stress filled day is angrily fist his slick cock within his warm palm, works wonders to get the edge off for him, especially after dealing with the stress of his father. can we take a moment to imagine just how much he’s panting afterwards? like omg… poor boy can’t even catch his own breath, greasy bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead while his thick cock continued to twitch in his palm.

i feel like he’s lowkey a whimperer? like obviously because everyone else still lives in the house at this time, but imagining the little whimpers and grunts that fall from his lips every time he’s touching himself oh my god.

help this is so raunchy but i can imagine him with his polo shirt caught between his teeth as he stares at himself in the mirror, the way he’s so damn focused on getting himself off only further helping to reach him to his climax. it’s kind of egotistical but i can just feel it that he gets off watching himself stroke his shit in the mirror wow.(me next)

absolutely will be jerking off to your pictures. no doubt about it, every picture of you in a bikini, or tight forming shirt, posted on your instagram will have him screenshotting and putting it in his ‘hidden’ folder in case you go through his phone one day. finds he can make himself cum so much faster while looking at you, at the same time imagining it was your tits he was spurting on.

i can sooo see topper buying rafe a pocket pussy as a joke for their secret santa gifts or some stupid shit. rafe obviously finds it funny but won’t fucking use it, it was a gag joke and just boys being boys. until he does use it, slicking his cock with his own spit and fucking himself into the toy over and over again, totally imagining it was sweet little pogue/kook he had a thing for, wishing it was your tight warm cunt he could just fill with his sperm instead of that stupid silicone pussy.

also, first thing he’s doing after sniffing a line is pumping his cock between his palms, cocaine gets you so stupidly horny that he can’t contain himself when he’s all alone.

so manipulatable !!!!!! so fucking brain dead when he’s horny, like his pretty head has just turned to complete mush while he desperately pumps his cock for some sort of relief from the tension.

last one i swear. i can totally see him grunting and whimpering, and talking to himself while he does it. dirty talking with half open heavy lidded eyes, hand working against himself while he’s mutter shit like, ‘just like that’ and ‘feels so fuckin good’ and he’s whiningggg. HELLO?? he’s so obviously thinking about you too, letting your pretty name slip past his lips, praising how good of a job you’re doing even though you aren’t there, like this guy is sooo fucking pussy whipped for you and you haven’t even let him hit. he’s so obsessed.

[cece693]

My Vampire

pairing: hannigram x male reader tags: reader is a vampire, takes place after they fall off the cliff, nursing back to health, hannigram feel jealous, but everything is resolved, just something silly I came up with

You’d never planned on crossing paths with Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. In truth, you avoided humans whenever possible, preferring the deep shadows of the forest and the quiet hours of the night to any bustling crowds. But that unspoken, secret life you lead—sustained by blood and centuries of solitude—proved itself impossible to hide when you found the two men collapsed at the rocky bottom of a steep cliff.

In the silvery glow of the moon, you saw them: Hannibal, impeccably dressed even in disarray, and Will, painfully crumpled, a halo of curly hair matted with blood. They had fallen—or been driven—off the edge. Your acute hearing picked up the faint beating of two frantic hearts. Against your better judgment, you acted swiftly.

The moonlight guided you as you carried both unconscious men to the safety of your home, deep in the forest. Turning on the lights revealed modest furniture, shelves of ancient texts, and the paraphernalia you’d collected over centuries: strange artifacts, historical relics, a few odd trinkets you found comforting in your long life.

You prepared beds for them in separate rooms. First, you stabilized Hannibal—a fractured rib, sprained wrist, cuts along his temple. More concerning was Will: several bruises, probable concussion, shock. With careful touches, you cleaned and dressed their wounds. Under the same roof with two delicate, thrumming pulses—it took everything in you to keep a tight leash on your most primal instinct. But you did. You always did.

Their condition demanded something more than standard human medication. You whispered ancient incantations under your breath, letting the faint threads of supernatural energy flow from your fingertips to their broken bones. Even as your thirst roared, you continued your strange, secretive healing, pressing over bruises and fractures with hands that never seemed to warm.

Days passed. You listened to the soft stutter of Will’s pulse and the steady cadence of Hannibal’s. At first, they roused only in fleeting moments, eyes glassy, speech slurred. You offered them water and soups thick with herbs that carried subtle restorative properties. They ate without protest, too weak to question anything. Eventually, Hannibal’s eyes found yours in the dimness of his room.

“You saved us,” he murmured, voice quiet yet controlled. There was a ripple of curiosity beneath the gratitude. You simply gave a small bow of your head, your lips curving in a gentle, almost secretive smile. He studied you: your unnaturally still posture, the unearthly pallor of your skin that seemed to glow faintly in the low light. You turned away from his searching gaze, easing a blanket higher over his chest with a careful gesture. There were questions you expected, but for now, Hannibal simply closed his eyes, content to rest in your presence.

Will took longer to regain consciousness, drifting in and out of feverish dreams. When he finally startled awake, he looked around with wide blue eyes, instantly on edge. You carefully stepped forward so he could see you—a kind face, arms raised in a gesture of peace.

“It’s all right,” you soothed, voice soft and resonant. “You’re safe here.”

His gaze flickered around, searching. “Hannibal?” he asked, voice tight with concern.

“He’s here as well,” you reassured him, stepping aside so he could see the figure through the open doorway. “He’s recovering.”

Will’s tension ebbed, replaced by relief. He slumped back onto the bed, nodding to himself. Then, quietly: “You saved our lives.”

You nodded, pressing a cloth damp with cool water against his forehead. “I did what needed to be done.”

Over the next several days, you stayed close, quietly tending to their needs. You brought them more comforting meals, teas laced with your own subtle magic, and changed their bandages as their injuries healed at a pace slightly faster than normal humans—your clandestine influence, though you never openly acknowledged it. As Hannibal and Will grew stronger, the two men observed you in unspoken unison. They’d share glances from across a room, as though exchanging telepathic notes about you. Eventually, curiosity overcame them.

One afternoon, while preparing more of your herb-laced soup in the cabin’s small kitchen, you found yourself under Hannibal’s direct stare. The man approached with a measured step, Will close behind. “I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Hannibal started, voice like velvet, “but I must admit, your hospitality is extraordinary.”

You allowed a smile to cross your lips. “I live alone. I have the space to share, and you needed help.”

Will glanced around at the eclectic collections on the walls and shelves—maps older than any living memory, candelabras that looked straight out of an antique store from centuries past, and your library of old texts. “You’ve traveled a lot?” he guessed.

“I’ve wandered,” you answered enigmatically. The silence that followed was taut.

“We’re grateful,” Will said softly. “We want you to know that.” In return, you simply nodded. You didn’t expect anything from them beyond eventual departure. Yet something stirred in your chest—an unaccustomed warmth of companionship you hadn’t felt in decades.

The days slipped by like dusk over water. You found yourself engaging in quiet conversations with Will in the evenings, while Hannibal read through your old tomes. Sometimes, you’d glance up to catch both men looking at you with an intensity that made your long-dead heart flutter in a dangerously human way. One night, you were startled when you heard Hannibal and Will murmuring to each other by the fireplace:

“He’s different,” Will said. “I can feel it.”

Hannibal’s voice was thoughtful. “Yes, there’s a presence to him. A calm and hunger, perhaps. Subtle, but there.”

Hunger. You swallowed. The faint thirst you spent centuries controlling was, indeed, always present. They were so perceptive.

Soon, little signs around the cabin began to raise suspicions: the heavy, iron-bound chest in a dark corner that you never let them open, the wine bottles you kept in a locked cupboard (though the contents were not wine at all). Once, Hannibal caught sight of you striding silently across the moonlit porch late at night, eyes glinting, your form almost inhumanly poised. Then there was the evening Will found a solitary pale figure in the forest, sipping from a small deer’s wound. You vanished before he fully comprehended the sight.

But what truly fueled their jealousy—though it blossomed in them before they knew the truth—were the small hints of a partner. A second set of clothing in a trunk, a pair of shoes that didn’t quite match yours, an engraving on a ring hidden in a wooden box. They caught glimpses of these things and exchanged wary looks, uncertain if you belonged to someone else. And why did you keep such personal belongings locked away?

Neither man dared to confront you outright. Yet their longing to be near you, to share these stolen pockets of tenderness, was obvious in every word, every gesture. When you approached either of them—asking about their injuries, smoothing the hair from their faces, offering small, tender assurances—you could feel their hearts quicken.

It happened one late evening, on the porch overlooking the forest. The sky was clear, starlight bright. You stood beside Hannibal and Will, who were both healed enough to walk carefully outside. They sipped from porcelain cups of your herbal tea, scanning the tree line where the moon gilded every branch.

Hannibal spoke first, voice low and calm, “We’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Will added gently. “We owe you so much. But we can’t keep burdening you.”

A pang flitted through you at the idea of them leaving. In them, you felt the pull of companionship, even desire. You’d seen the way their gazes lingered on you, felt the gentle brush of their hands when you passed something between them. They were drawn to you in ways neither had dared say.

“You don’t have to leave,” you murmured. “At least not until you’re fully recovered.” You paused, eyes searching the forest. “My home is safe if you need it.”

Hannibal watched you closely, seeing something in your eyes. “There’s more to you than kind hospitality, isn’t there?”

A fleeting grin tugged at your lips, an age-old secret behind your eyes. “I’m not like you,” you admitted softly. “I’m something else.”

Will shifted, the memory of seeing you in the woods late at night still burning in his mind. “I’ve seen glimpses,” he ventured. “But I—I don’t understand.” You inhaled, feeling your chest tighten with apprehension. Never, in all your years, had you willingly revealed your nature to humans. Yet these men—there was something about them that felt like an inevitability.

“I was born human once,” you started quietly, “but that was a long time ago.” You steeled yourself. “I’ve lived many lifetimes since. Surviving on blood, fighting the thirst, wandering from place to place.”

Hannibal’s expression was one of fascination rather than fear. “A vampire?” His tone lacked the disbelief you’d grown used to. Instead, it was curious, tinged with admiration.

You nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yes.”

Will set aside his cup, stepping closer, his eyes flicking over your face. The moonlight made him look almost otherworldly himself. “You saved us from that cliff. You healed us. And you never...took our blood?”

“I’m not a monster,” you whispered. “And I found your lives worth preserving.” You paused, swallowing the remnants of your fear. “The items you found—those things that made you think I had a partner—are old memories of someone I lost centuries ago. Not a current lover.”

Hannibal and Will exchanged glances, a faint bloom of relief apparent in both their eyes. Will exhaled a soft laugh, pushing a nervous hand through his curls. “We thought…We weren’t sure.”

Hannibal’s refined voice cut in, “We may have been jealous.” There was a wry, knowing smile curving his lips. “A foolish notion, given your generosity.”

Heat—or the memory of it—rose to your cheeks. “There’s no one else now,” you said quietly.

As the truth came to light, the shift in your relationship was palpable. Neither man showed fear or disgust. Instead, an unexpected acceptance lingered, twining you closer. Will still found you in the kitchen late at night, but now he’d quietly slide in beside you, leaning against the counter, eyes full of curiosity. He’d ask about your life in hushed tones: your travels, the centuries of knowledge you’d collected. You answered in half-truths or occasional full confessions, depending on what you felt ready to share.

Hannibal, too, found ways to join you in your quiet moments. He appreciated your old texts, marveled at the archaic languages you could read. Something in his own brilliant mind was stimulated by the very notion of a creature who had lived through so many eras. He’d ask you sophisticated questions with an almost reverent tone, and you’d see the faint glint of desire flicker across his features—desire, not just for your body, but your timelessness.

And between them, there was a synergy you’d never witnessed among humans. You caught it in how Will would pass Hannibal a knowing look or in how Hannibal’s fingers would gently skim the small of Will’s back. They were bound to each other, yet somehow, they extended that bond to include you.

After dinner one evening, the three of you lingered around the fireplace, sharing a bottle of fine wine Hannibal had found in your cellar (the real wine, not the blood you kept hidden). The conversation drifted, warmth glowed across your faces. Will was the first to break the comfortable silence. “We’ve been talking—Hannibal and I.”

“Oh?” you prompted, resting your forearms on your knees.

“We feel drawn to you,” Hannibal continued, his eyes glittering in the firelight. “When you saved us, nursed us, you offered an unspoken intimacy. We have begun to care for you in ways that aren’t entirely platonic.”

You set the wine glass aside, heart beating in a way you hadn’t felt in ages. “I care for you both as well,” you admitted, voice quiet. “I was prepared to let you go, if that was what you wanted.”

Hannibal’s hand slid across the small couch to cover yours. Even after all your time in the darkness, the tender heat of a human touch could still set your veins aflame. You felt the weight of both men’s gazes, their presence so near, so achingly real.

Hannibal’s voice was a low murmur, “We have no intention of running away from this…from you.”

Will’s shoulder brushed yours, and you turned to see him looking at you as if you were some delicate miracle. “Stay with us,” he whispered. “Let us stay with you.”

[militaryapple]

FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME, BABY ♡

synopsis. caleb has a bad day at work and you just wanna help him. whats the harm in that? it's not like he's ever mean to you.. right?

cw. fem!reader, exhibitionism, praise, semi angry sex, breeding kink, rough sex, cunnilingus, overstim, calebs a little freak.

add ons. didn't think i could make him even worse then he is but whatv i love u nasty caleb + i didn't proofread so whoops im lazy. 

wc. 1.7k

as you lounged around in your room in skyhaven, you jumped up at the sound of keys jingling and the front door opening. It was caleb, he was home! excitedly, you got up rushing to the door with open arms. you were expecting a big hug with the sweet words “pipsqueak! I’m home!~” with a sort of tune in your boyfriend’s voice— but instead you were met with a pat on the head a soft grunt that could only signal “I’m not in the mood.”

who shit in his cereal today?

you followed caleb to the kitchen as you watched him cook.. and then followed him to the living room as you watched him eat.. and then followed him to the bathroom while you waited outside.. and th—

“what do you want pips?” a sharp, hushed voice snapped you out of whatever trance you were in. he stared at you before snapping his fingers to supposedly bring you back to earth, and you just stared.

“is everything okay?” was all you able to muster out. you were unfamiliar with this caleb. the kind, sweet boy who would pet your hair and tell you how cute you looked today was far gone and all that was left was his outer shell, replaced by some sort of spirit. caleb shook his head and sighed heavily. he brushed you off before pushing his hair back.

“just.. tired. long day at the fleet is all.” he said softly. caleb noticed the visible shift in your attitude, fuck he was slipping. just because he had a shitty day doesn’t mean he has to take it out on you, after all you just wanted to make sure he was okay.

and before he knew it, you both were sitting down on his couch. you prepared some tea and pranced around the kitchen as he watched you closely, like you could mess up anytime and he would have to swoop in and save the day but yet there were no mistakes so there was no knight in shining armor caleb. you settled down next to him on the couch before moving closer and resting your head on his shoulder and oh fuck did that send him over. the faint smell of apple cinnamon and the way your body slowly went up and down as you took each agonizingly long breath. you were a sight to behold, truly— and the dent in his pants couldn’t agree with him more.

oh how he would like to take a handful of your hair and pull it back, to see your pretty face laced with tears he caused. To hear your sweet sounds both your voice and body make, fuck him— was he going crazy? caleb quickly turned his attention on you, with a worried expression on your face that could only make his heart melt for you. forget a bad day, every moment with you could cure a million diseases in the world.

“caleb..” you said, your hand tracing over his arm which could only make him shiver. “i just want to know if you’re okay, you’ve been acting.. weird today. if i did anything—“ he cut you off quickly embracing you as close as he possibly could. his voice was sweet, this, this was the caleb you know.

“oh no pips, seriously, it was just one little bad day, yeah?” he said pulling you away and looking straight at you.

“if it was such a bad day, then can i help you? just to relax is all.”

oh gods. fuck him. bless today. you looked so fucking pretty. was it the way you said it, or the way you looked at him? how your eyes flickered across his body— he didn’t imagine that right? how close you both are and how fucking warn you feel, it was hot. he was hot. was the stove on? no, you wouldn’t attempt to cook— fuck why is it so hot in the house all of a sudden? he needed to contain himself, he wasn’t some wild animal, he was— gentle with you. patient. he liked having vanilla sex with you, he liked having sex with you in general. he was just pent up from the day and, fuck fuck fuckk.

caleb looked at you, his hand finding its way to your face as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. there was no way he would take advantage of you like this. he wasn’t that type of guy. maybe if he was more level headed he would agree to fuck your pretty fuck stupid, but not when he’s angry and you’re doing your damn hardest to make sure he feels better. he should be happy, happy that you care so much about him to the point your willing to help him blow off stream.

but god he would be stupid to let this opportunity slip.

“it’s fine, pipsqueak. i’m serious, i’m sorry if i worried you with my attitude. it was out of line it won’t happen again.” he said softly, warningly. yet, you didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“caleb, please let me do this for you. let me help you.” you got up and shifted yourself closer to him. you could feel his breath hitch as he scanned your face for anything, any sort of sign to tell him “don’t. you shouldn’t, you can’t.” yet there was nothing there. he quickly grabbed your wrist and flipped you, pushing your hands shoved your head as he leaned into you.

“tell me i shouldn’t pips, tell me I shouldn’t take all of my fucking anger out on you right now.” oh fuck this was bad, he was bad. he leaned into kissing your neck and nibbling softly, his eyes retreating back to yours. your silence was deafening. it was like he could hear your plea for him to proceed, god did he want you so fucking bad.

he picked you up, bringing both you and him to his room and throwing you on his bed. he closed the door making sure to hear a small click! in the back. he got down and kissed you. this wasn’t his simple tender and romantic kisses, no. this was sloppy. nasty. he couldn’t help if his hands went from your hair, to your hips, and then your boob. and he definitely couldn’t help on how he groaned while kissing you, how he pulled you down closer to him so you could feel the dent in his pants. so you can feel how fucking much he missed you at work, and how you are such a tease; even when you don’t intend to be. caleb was swift when it came to your clothes, as he took them off faster than you could put them on.and you were quick.

caleb moved to the bed, sitting you up. your back against his chest as you both faced the mirror across from the bed. oh was this beautiful for him, you were beautiful for him.

“I’ve always wanted to try this” he said cooly as he spread your legs, watching the faces you make. the reactions you give him. “I’ve only just imagined it.. well when I’m at work, but seeing it for real? you look so much prettier.” his hands circling around your cunt and then in and out. oh you were so pretty. so beautiful. so mesmerizing. your sounds were enough to make him cum, and you enjoyed it. he coo’d you as you begged for him to be kinder to your swollen cunt.

“you can handle it baby, yeah? you wanted to help me right? come on, hold out for me a little longer and I’ll give you something better.” oh how he knew which words would rub you right. even if he’s in a bad mood he still knew how to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

caleb soon removed his fingers, sliding out of you before pulling down his pants, and then his drawers. god was he even bigger today. you could only watch in awe as he brought you closer to himself.

“i told you I’d give you something better baby.” he said softly, bending down to kiss your forehead. he positioned himself before sliding in. ohh gods did he fill you up perfectly. you were practically made for him. caleb couldn’t help but grab on your hips and add some friction between you two.

the way his tip kissed your sweet spot so good could only make your face contort. you held onto him as he slammed himself in you. it hurt, but it hurt so good. he wasn’t easing up on you anytime soon but you were fine with that. you weren’t complaining on how his balls violently hit your cunt, or how fucking messy you both were being. how greedy you two were, more than usual almost. if sex was this good if he was angry, maybe you should purposely piss him off more.

“oh- fuck baby, ah, you feel so so good” he groaned. you could only let out moans of approval and pleasure as he hit your spots so fucking good. he put his hand down, right at your pelvic area, feeling himself go in and out of you, he couldn’t help it. you were just too perfect. “im gonna put a baby in you yeah? so nobody touches you ever again, or even thinks about you. so they know you’re mine. yeah?” oh fuck you would love that. “im gonna make you a mommy, please can i? can i make you a mommy, baby?”

oh god oh god oh god. you were close you were so so close. your nails dug into his skin which only made him thrust more erratically. both of your heads were empty, focused on the feeling of sweet sweet release. caleb looked down at you, holding your head up.

“gonna cum? wanna cum for me? yeah? yeah? come on baby you can do it. make me proud.” he panted, kissing you in between, all you could do was whine for him as you held onto him. your legs shook while you saw stars. caleb became slower, with a last couple of thrusts before holding you down on his cock. he looked at you, ditsy and fucked out. he let out a soft chuckle.

“you can’t sleep on me now pipsqueak, you said you would help me remember? im still feeling a little upset.”

this was going to be a loooong night.

[butlervibesonly]

𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 💘 || Austin Butler

• Summary: Austin surprises you with a wonderful Valentine’s Day… Can even something be more than this?

• Pairing: Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings: lots and lots of love affirmation, maybe some slight intimacy at the end but idk

• Note: Happy Valentine’s my Austin girls! 💕💐💌

You wake up to the soft warmth of sunlight streaming through the curtains. As you stretch lazily, your hand automatically searches for Austin next to you. But he is not there. Before you can even sit up to search for him, the bedroom door creaks open, and there he is. Standing with a big bouquet of roses in his hands, wearing the sweet smile that always melts your heart.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love…!" Austin says, coming closer to you in the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the roses, kissing your forehead softly and lovingly.

Your heart flutters as you take the bouquet from him – it’s wrapped in pink wrapper, baby’s breath added between the roses. Inhaling its floral scent, you smile. "Awh! You didn’t have to, Aus" you say, even though you love it so much.

"But I wanted to. You deserve the best." Austin replies simply, leaning down to press another soft kiss on your cheek. “I made us breakfast, love. Wanna have it in bed?” he asks, rubbing your arm. You can’t help but chuckle at the thought of him making breakfast.

You nod, and watch him get up from the bed, making his way to the kitchen . As you place the bouquet on the nightstand beside you, your smile never leaves your lips. After a while Austin comes back with a plate and fork in his hand.

You look at the plate to see what he actually made, and when you see the pancakes he tried to make look like a heart shape, you chuckle. "I tried my best, honey, do you know how hard it actually is to make a heart out of pancake batter on a pan?"

“I appreciate your attempt, love.” you laugh. You both spend the morning by eating breakfast, chatting and just cuddling in each other’s arms. The slow morning you both love so much.

The day unfolds in the most perfect way possible. After breakfast, you both curl up on the couch under fluffy blanket, watching romantic movies like Austin’s favorite The Notebook or Sleepless In Seattle. You guys lay there, Austin just holds you close, hand rubbing your back, occasionally stealing kisses between scenes.

Hours passes, and the golden glow of the afternoon fades into the soft hues of the evening. “Wait here, honey.” Austin’s says, leaving the living room. The waiting makes your heart race, and when he finally returns, he’s carrying something behind his back.

"For you," he says, holding it out, his gaze full of affection. You receive the cutest stuffed teddy bear, strawberries covered in chocolate which he knows you love so much and a little box. You look at him, wondering what could it be. “Open it, love.”

You look back at the box, and begin to untie the bow. When you open the box you see a silver bracelet with chain that has his and your initials. “Aus!” you gasp, taking the bracelet in your hand.

Austin takes the bracelet from you, fastening it around your wrist. “I wanted this to remind you everyday how much I love you, Y/n. How much you mean to me…” He leans and presses his lips against yours. You smile into the lips and as soon as you pull away you gaze at all the gifts. “Thank you, my love.”

He watches you, his expression filled with something deeper than words can actually capture. "You’re spoiling me, you know that?” you whisper, looking up at him. "You deserve it," he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I know this is simple Valentine’s Day, love, but I wanna make sure you know how much grateful I am to have you by my side.

You smile widely, taking his hand in yours and you intertwine your fingers together. “You are so wonderful, Aus… I can’t even describe how much this means to me.”

"And this all is not over yet." He holds your hand and leads you to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaits. Candles lighten up, casting a warm, golden glow over everything, rose petals covering the table and there are two plates set and two glasses for wine.

"You did all of this just for me?" you ask, your heart swelling with love. Austin nods, pulling out a chair for you. "I wanted today to be special. For you to know just how much I love you."

As you sit down, watching him serve you the spaghetti, with that loving gaze of his, you realize something… You’ve never felt more cherished, more adored, more loved and cared about. He places the plate in front of you. “There you go, love.”

You look down at the plate, the meal looking so incredibly good. As soon as he sits down next to you, you both dig in. Austin loves cooking for you. Whether it’s simply pancakes or your favorite food, he does it for you no matter what. He also opens a bottle of wine and pours it into his and yours glass.

You watch as he sets the bottle down and picks up his own glass, raising it slightly.

“So, to us?” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “Mhm, to us. To our love.” you smile.

You clink your glass against his and you both take a sip. The first taste of the meal makes you hum in delight, and when you glance up at him, he’s watching you with that look. The one special look that makes your stomach flutter.

“This is so amazing, Aus!” you say between bites. “When did you even find time to cook all of this?” you giggle, wondering. Austin chuckles, shaking his head. “A magician never reveals his secrets, y’know.” He laughs and so do you. After a pause, he adds more softly, “But seeing you happy makes it all worth it.”

The conversation flows effortlessly as you eat, filled with laughter, shared memories, and quiet moments where no words are needed – just the warmth of his gaze, which is truly heart melting, and the feelings of being completely, utterly loved by each other.

At one point, he reaches across the table to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles before intertwining your fingers. “You know, I don’t need a special day to show you how much I love you. But I hope tonight reminds you… that I love you so much.”

Your lips push forward, caught between a smile and a pout, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your heart racing. Then, squeezing his hand, you whisper, “You do remind me, Aus… Every single day.” Austin smiles to your words, and he stands up, pressing a kiss on your lips.

“There’s one more surprise… just give me a while,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation. Curiosity tingles in your chest as he leaves you for few minutes. You sit in the kitchen and you observe the beautiful bracelet from Austin.

As soon as he comes back, he takes your hand leads you through the hallway, and stops in front of the bathroom door. He gives you a soft smile before pushing it open, and the sight before you takes your breath away.

The room is bathed in the warm glow of flickering candles, their soft light glancing against the walls. The air is filled with the soothing scent of roses. And in the center of it all, the bathtub filled with steaming water, the surface adorned with delicate rose petals floating in soft clusters of red and pink

You turn to him, your heart swelling with love. “Austin, baby… I don’t even deserve this.” He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh you do! I wanted you to relax, to feel cherished,” he whispers. “You deserve to be pampered, darling…”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. He shares the kiss back, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth of his body against yours, the tenderness in his touch…you just love it so damn much.

When you finally pull back, you look into his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “Join me…?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Austin’s eyes widen slightly as if he hadn’t expected you to ask, but then the corners of his lips curve into that familiar, heart-melting smirk. “You sure?”

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulder. “I don’t want to enjoy such a fancy bath without you…” His expression softens, and without another word, he begins unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze never leaving yours. Something unspoken but so obvious lingers between you as you both undress, the flickering candlelight casting golden shadows over his toned body. You can admire that body all the time…

Once you step into the warm water, the heat instantly soothes you, and you sigh as you sink into the water. Austin follows you, settling in behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. The feeling of his bare skin against yours sends a shiver down your spine from the intimacy of the moment.

You lean back against his chest, your head resting just below his chin. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along your arm before dipping into the water, cupping it in his hands and letting it trickle over your shoulders. He kisses your shoulder… then your neck…

The soft sound of his breathing is close enough by your ear, as you watch candles flickering around — it’s just all so perfect, so intimate…

For a while, neither of you speak. There’s no need. The silence is filled with sweet love and care, the occasional kiss against your temple, and the rhythmic beating of his heart against your back. Eventually, he whispers, “I love you...”

You smile, turning your head slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. “I love you too, Happy Valentine’s...”

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

PS. I am not even going to lie, I am crying, knowing this is NOT how I will be spending my Valentines.. guess I gotta watch The Notebook, cry, hug my plushies and maybe eat a bucket of ice cream 😋

ALSO!!! THIS IS HOW AUSTIN LOOKED IN THIS FIC:

[mejaemin]

˚　✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　. ✦　˚　　. ★⋆. 　.   ˚　　* . ✦　. ˚ . ✦ ˚ 　.　˚ .

untitled - yoon jeonghan

wc: 0.7k summary: jeonghan always knows what you need, and won’t ever hesitate to give it to you warnings: being v sad, being comforted + taken care of an: crazy how the only time i write for my main ult is when i myself need comforting…

˚　✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　. ✦　˚　　. ★⋆. 　.   ˚　　* . ✦　. ˚ . ✦ ˚ 　.　˚ .

you walk in the front door, and jeonghan’s eyes light up from where he’s sitting in the living room. it warms your heart, truly, seeing the way he goes from all sunken into the cushions right into perfect posture, full of joy. you give him a half assed smile, too lazy and unmotivated to give him anything better. you can’t see it when you reach down to remove your shoes, but his expression softens and he’s on his way over to you to take your bag and help you.

when you stand back up, he’s got a hand on your shoulder, and all he needs to do is give you a look, silently asking do you want to talk? and it’s so sweet, seeing how much he cares to avoid even prompting a conversation when you’re not ready, you shake your head softly, immediately letting your head fall into his shoulder once the tears come.

he pulls you into him, a hand rubbing your back while the other runs over your head. “you’re okay,” he whispers into your hair, voice deep and comforting against your body. “i’m here.”

your patience has been tested many times today, people yelling at you and overall disturbing your peace. you’re good at keeping your cool, letting yourself fall numb to these daily occurrences, and essentially going on autopilot for the entire work day. you were still in that mindset when you got here, but seeing jeonghan, so sweet, treating you with such fragile care, it brings you right back to earth and all that frustration falls down to nothing but tears, your vulnerability coming through. there isn’t even anger anymore, just a feeling of being tired.

you pull your head away, wiping at the wet spot on his shoulder. he chuckles, holding your face in his hands to wipe at your tears with his thumbs.

“come,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you into your bedroom. your feet drag, hurting and tired, yet he stays patient, matching your pace until he can finally push the door open and sit you down on the bed.

he sits next to you, letting out a little ‘oof’ as he does so. with calm, gentle hands he helps remove your clothes, gently lifting them over your head. it might be simple, but for every movement you make to help him in the process earns you a kiss on the cheek. words of praise fall from his lips all the way until your done, left in your underwear. wordlessly, you turn your back to him, and his cold fingers leave goosebumps on your arms as he unclips your bra. his eyes stay up as he grabs your discarded clothing, putting it away before grabbing a shirt for you. it’s one of his, on the baggier side.

he slips it on for you and it’s baggy enough to cover some of your legs and feel comfortable. with a gentle nudge he leads you to lay down, pulling the blanket over you before turning to shut the light off. when he comes back to bed, he gets on his side, covering himself with the blanket. he brings you close, draping an arm over your stomach, and eventually his breathing evens. you try to fall asleep too, but there’s too many thoughts plaguing your mind to let you do so.

“hannie..?” you speak up, voice tiny and hoarse due to being silent for so long.

after a beat of silence, you hear a ‘hmmm?’ come from beside you.

“can you..” feeling too exhausted to speak, you just tug on his arm, dragging him a little closer until his body is partially on top of you.

eventually he gets the message, picking the blanket up to scoot over, until he’s finally on top of you, he gently lowers his weight down, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. it’s a common occurrence to have him lay on you, the weight extremely soothing and healing to your mind. he’s more than happy to do it for you at any time, i mean, he’s not exactly one to complain about being held and cuddled every once in a while. finally, you relax, the pressure on your torso allowing your body to finally release its tension and sink into the mattress. jeonghan presses a few soft kisses into the crook of your neck before they finally still, resting against your skin as he sleeps. you’re right there with him, your arms tight around his body as your mind finally calms and you succumb to your own fatigue.

˚　✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　. ✦　˚　　. ★⋆. 　.   ˚　　* . ✦　. ˚ . ✦ ˚ 　.　˚ .

perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

[morgana-larkin]

Here it is, the next chapter! Now for this one, Joe is back for half the chapter and you might all hate this chapter but I don’t really care. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I just want to say Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone! I was able to write a chapter today but I’m going on a date tomorrow so I won’t have a lot of time to write a chapter but I’ll see if I can write one quickly.

Just Tired - Part 8

Warnings: manipulative relationship, Upset Mel (you’ve been warned)

Words: 2.7k

You and Melissa get to your place. You let the both of you in and then you take your shoes off while Melissa looks around.

“If you’re looking for my roommate, she won’t get here for another hour.” You tell her and she nods. “Do you want to text Joe? Just to get it over with, and you’re not home so there’s no way he can get to you. I’m not pressuring you but I’m guessing it’s something on your mind.” You tell her and she nods.

“I want to end it but… I don’t know, I’m just scared.” She says and she goes to sit on the couch and you follow her.

“What are you scared about?”

“I’ve been with Joe since I was 23, I’ve been with him for most of my life and now I’m letting him go.” She tells you. “I get he’s a manipulator, but there’s some part of me that wants to stay with him as he’s all I’ve known for 25 years.” She tells you and you hum. She then gets a text and she goes to read it before she groans.

“What is it?”

“Joe said he wants to know when I’m coming home so we can talk about what happened.” She tells you and you look at the text.

“You don’t have to go see him in person, you can tell him right now that it’s over.”

“No, I think it’s better if I tell him in person. I think it's better for me, so my brain understands that it’ll actually be over.” She says and you nod.

“Want me to drive you over?” You ask her and she nods.

“Please.” She says softly and you take her hand.

You drive her to her place where Joe walks out of the house as soon as he hears the car pull in. You see a white bandage over his nose and think that Melissa got him good. Melissa takes a deep breath and then gets out of the car.

“Melissa where have you been? You haven’t been home since yesterday afternoon.” He asks her and then sees you. “What is your coworker doing here and driving your car?”

“That doesn’t matter.” She tells him and then you slightly roll down the window, enough so you can hear but they don’t notice that it’s open. “I wanted to come here to tell you that it’s over between us, I want a divorce.” She firmly states.

“Oh come on Melissa, you’re just overreacting.” Joe tells her. “Look I know you’re sorry about breaking my nose, so just come inside.” He says and she shakes her head.

“No, I’m telling you that I’m really asking for a divorce.” She says and walks a few steps towards him. “I’m going to file for one and I want to make sure that you’ll sign the papers.”

“I’m not going to sign them. I’m not signing anything because of some hissy fit.” He tells her and crosses his arms.

“You have been manipulating me this entire time, the entire time we’ve been together. I think the least you can do is sign the damn papers.” She admits to him and he widens his eyes slightly.

“I haven’t been manipulating you. I don’t know what’s going on in your mind or what your coworkers have been drilling into your head, but let’s just continue our normal lives as husband and wife.” He says and offers her a hand for her to take.

“They haven’t been telling me anything, I found out on my own.” She says and Joe looks at you.

“Has she been spewing nonsense at you. I saw how she looked at you at the bar, she has a crush on you.” He says, blaming everything on you. “I bet she’s been feeding you lies about me, about us. She wants this to happen, she wants to be with you so she’s sabotaging our marriage.” He says to her and she’s shaking her head.

“No, she’s not.” Melissa tells him and walks closer to him. “I haven’t been happy in a long time and I never knew why until yesterday.” She admits and he looks at her.

“Do you think you can find someone else? Someone who will love you better than me?” He asks her as she steps toward her. “Face it, I’m your best chance.” He says with anger and points a finger at her.

“No, no you’re not.” She says and looks down quickly before looking back up with a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Now you’re crying? You’re so sensitive, woman.” He tells her.

“It’s ok to have emotions, it’s ok for me to cry.” She defends herself. “You just never wanted me to cry because you wanted me to just stay clueless about what you were doing to me.” She tells him and then he grabs both her wrists. “Let me go!” She tells him.

“I haven’t been doing anything to you, it’s you that’s clearly flying off the rails. If you leave me then you’ll be alone for the rest of your life.” He says to her. “It’s obvious you’re not feeling well right now, so just calm down and I’ll bring you to bed.”

“No, just let me go.” She says softly as a few more tears stream down her face. He then is able to hold both her wrists in one hand and he grabs her chin with his free hand.

“Melissa, come on and think about it. We’ve been together for 25 years and we love each other, shouldn’t that be enough for you?” He tells her and she shakes her head. “So you want to be alone for the rest of your life? Cause that’s what you'll be if you let me go.”

“You should let her go.” You tell him and he turns his head to see you there holding a bat, ready to swing. “Let her go, she said she wants a divorce.” You add.

“You’re probably feeding her nonsense, trying to ruin a perfectly good marriage so you can have her.” He says to you and you shake your head.

“I haven’t done a thing except helping Melissa yesterday after she left you.” You tell him. “Now let her go or I won’t hesitate to use this.” You say and he thinks about it for a few seconds before he lets her go.

“You’ll regret this Melissa, and you’ll come crawling back to me.” He tells her before he walks back inside the house.

You lower the bat before you run up to Melissa, who’s full on crying right now. You wrap your arms around her and she lays her head on your chest while she just cries it out. After about a minute you gently stroke her head and she wraps her arms around your waist. You feel her pull the both of you down so you lower yourself, with her, to your knees. After a couple minutes, you feel her sniffle and her tears subside.

“Can you take me to your place?” She says softly and you nod.

“I can definitely do that.” You tell her and you help her stand up and then bring her to the passenger seat. You put the bat back in the backseat and then you drive the both of you to your place.

“Can we go to your room and cuddle?” She asks you and you nod. She walks to your room without any help from you and you see her wrap her arms around herself and she’s looking down. You quickly get a box of chocolates from the cupboard and bring it upstairs to your room where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“None of what he told you was true.” You tell her and she looks up at you. “I heard everything.” You admit and she brings her knees to her chest and hugs herself. “Were you wanting to cuddle on the edge of the bed?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

You go up to the headboard, place the chocolates on the nightstand and sit down and she takes a deep breath before she crawls up to you and places her head on your lap. You gently stroke her hair and she wraps one of her arms around your legs. You then start humming a lullaby that your mom used to sing to you and you feel some of her tension leave.

“Something he did say was true.” She tells you.

“What are you referring to?” You ask.

“You did help ruin the marriage.” She says softly and you look at her and freeze in your stroking. “But that’s not a bad thing.” She adds. “I’m glad you got involved, that you overstepped.” She says and you resume stroking her head.

“Ya?”

“Ya, I knew I was unhappy but I couldn’t figure out why. Until you got involved.” She tells you and you hum. “I have something to confess.”

“And what would that be?”

“Barb’s guest bedroom is always ready to be used, she didn’t have to get it ready.” She admits. “If I’m being honest, it felt nice to be held like how you held me last night and I wanted that again.”

“Melissa, you could have told me that and I still would have said you can stay here again.” You tell her.

“I know but I just didn’t want to admit it, out loud.” She tells you and a thought pops into your head.

“Melissa?” You ask her and she hums. “Did you know you might be into women?” You ask her.

“No, but last week I realised that I’ve been attracted to women before without knowing.” She confesses.

“Are you comfortable going to a bar where women will definitely hit on you?”

“Ya, I think that’s something that will make me feel better. Explore more of myself and kiss some people.” She says.

“It’s a gay bar, so there’ll be lesbians, bisexual women and men.” You tell her. “But mostly lesbians and bisexual women hang out there. And I see most of them hit on older women. So they’ll be all over you.” You add and she hums.

“That sounds nice.” She says with a yawn and then she falls asleep on your lap. You then get your phone out and you text Barb what happened and that Melissa is now asleep on your lap.

Melissa opens her eyes and sees that she’s been tucked in your bed and her head is on one of your pillows. She’s pretty sure she was just laying on your lap a few seconds ago. She then hears some noise downstairs so she gets out of bed and makes her way to the stairs. She then hears some voices in the kitchen and realises that you and Barb are talking.

“You’re doing an excellent job at helping her dear.” Barb tells you.

“I just feel like I’m not doing enough.” You say to her.

“You’re listening to what she needs and making sure she gets exactly what she needs to help. I mean you did a combined class all day because she needed you at the last minute.” Barb says.

“Ok.” You say. “Will this really help her feel better?” You then ask.

“It’s a comfort meal of hers that I made her after she had a fight with Joe and I made it every time she stayed at my place overnight.” Barb explains to you. At that moment Melissa decides to go downstairs and you look up and smile at her.

“Hey, you’re awake.” You tell her. “Feel any better?” You ask and she nods.

“I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on your lap though.” She says and you nod.

“You did, but Barb came over and I had to open the door for her.” You tell her and she hums. “She made your favourite comfort food.” You add and she looks at Barb putting it on 3 plates.

“Y/n told me everything.” Barb tells Melissa.

“You warned me about him 15 years ago and I should have listened to you.” Melissa tells Barb.

“Melissa, sometimes people in this situation aren’t aware for a while and they have to figure it out themselves. Even though Y/n and I both told you, you had to figure it out yourself to actually understand what was happening.” She tells Melissa and you see how Melissa nods with watery eyes. You go up to Melissa with a plate and you gently hand it to her while also rubbing her arm.

“Eating might make you feel better.” You tell her softly and she nods as she takes the plate and heads over to the couch. Barb hands you one of the plates and you both follow Melissa to the couch. You end up sitting on the floor across from them and Melissa looks at you.

“Where are you eating on the floor?” She asks you.

“It really only fits 2 people comfortably.” You tell her. She then looks at the empty spot on the couch and then at you. Barb gets the hint and goes to the side of the couch before Melissa pats the now empty spot beside her. “I mean it, it’s really only comfortable for 2.” You repeat and she raises her eyebrows at you before you get up and join them on the couch. Melissa gets you to sit down as close to her as possible so that at least your legs are touching hers.

All 3 of you eat dinner and talk for about an hour before Barb heads back to her place and you’re left alone with Melissa again. Melissa then goes to cuddle you on the couch. You lean back on the couch and she wraps an arm around your waist and places her head on your chest. You wrap an arm around her and she lets out a content sigh. She stays like through the entire movie that you let her pick.

“I should go have a shower before bed.” You tell her and she sighs.

“No.” She complains and wraps her arm tighter around you.

“Melissa, we can cuddle in bed after I’m done.” You tell her and she still doesn’t let you go. “Melissa, I promise we can cuddle in bed after I’m finished or you can swing that bat at my head.” You tell her and she thinks about it before she sighs and lets you go. “I’ll be quick.” You tell her and then you go have a quick shower while she goes upstairs and gets changed in some pjs.

You come out in a towel and hair wet and Melissa freezes at the sight and her cheeks turn the same colour as her hair. You miss her reaction as you went right to your dresser to get some pjs.

“I keep forgetting to bring pjs with me.” You say as you get some out. Melissa snaps out of her trance before you turn around and she swallows the extra saliva she got from drooling over you.

“That’s ok. I’ll just finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom.” Melissa says and then bolts to the bathroom.

She comes out a few minutes later and you’re in bed on your phone. She crawls into bed beside you and you set your alarms before you put your phone down and look at her.

“I called Ava and told her I’m not going into work tomorrow.” She tells you and you nod.

“That’s a good idea.” You say to her.

Melissa looks into your eyes and sees the care you have for her and she feels a slight flutter in her stomach. In a moment of confidence she goes to give you a kiss on your cheek as a thank you. You happen to turn your head right before and she ends up kissing your lips. She quickly pulls away and you both are looking at each other with wide eyes as the realisation kicks in. Melissa licks her lips and looks at yours before she kisses you again.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[theocddiaries]

[After Forces. Sonic is at home, looking for something in the kitchen. He can't find it and takes a deep breath, his eyes welling up. He walks into the living room and lets himself fall onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. Tails comes in excitedly from the garage.] Tails: Sonic, do you want to see what I added to the Tornado--What's wrong?? Sonic [wipes his tears and forces a smile]: Nothing, buddy. What were you saying? Tails: I asked why you were crying. Sonic: I'm not crying, something just got in my eye. Tails: Yeah, a whole bunch of tears. [sits next to him.]: What's the matter? Sonic: Nothing, it's stupid. I got hungry and couldn't find the hot dog buns. [sniffs.] Tails: …Okay? And is that such a big deal? Sonic: Yes. Because of what it means, Tails. This is my home. It used to be my home. And now I can't even find the things I like and only I use. I'm starting to feel like a guest who’s in the way. Shadow [enters the house and sees the scene]: What's going on? Are you guys okay? [sits on Sonic's other side.] Tails [starts to cry too]: Sonic couldn't find the hot dog buns. Shadow: …Oh. They're in the second drawer. I'll get them for you, if you want-- Sonic: That's not the point. Amy [walks down the hallway, sees them]: Sweetheart, what's wrong??? [sits on the couch too.] Tails [crying]: Sonic couldn't find the hot dog buns. Shadow: I already told him they're in the second drawer. Sonic: It's not about the buns, guys. It's just… in the cell, days felt like centuries, and all I wanted was to get out to see you guys again… and to kick Eggman's butt, but mostly to see you again. And now that I’m finnaly out, it feels like those six months flew by in here. I feel like a burden and a stranger; I can't find anything, I have nothing to do because you guys have everything covered, I can't follow conversations, and I don’t even know what to buy for you because it feels like I don’t know you anymore. Everything and everyone has changed so much. Amy: Changed for the worse? Sonic: No. On the contrary. I’m really glad for you all. I see you leading, Tails more confident, Shadow more comfortable talking to people. But it hurts that I missed it. I know it sounds selfish. But I spent six months dreaming of coming back to a place that doesn’t exist anymore. Tails: It does exist. Some things have changed, yeah. Because six months have passed. But this is still your home, I’m still your brother, and we’re all still your friends. Deep down, it’s the same. Sonic: No, it’s not. Before, I was needed, and now-- Shadow: And now you still are. The changes you said you’ve seen happened because of you and the influence you had on everyone. Tails: He’s right. To me, you were never totally gone. Amy: Neither for me. Shadow: For none of us. Tails: You’re the heart of this group and this place. [Tails gives Sonic a tight hug, and Amy joins in. Shadow rubs his back.] Amy: So, what did you want? A chili dog? My treat. Let’s go. [Amy pulls Sonic up. Tails takes his hand, and Shadow gives him a quick shoulder hug. The group heads toward the door. Knuckles comes out of his room with a bag, eating.] Tails: …Well, look where the hot dog buns were… Knuckles [mouth full]: …Why are you all looking at me like that? What happened? [Amy snatches the bag from him, pissed off.] Knuckles: Geez, you could’ve just asked. Ten years and you haven't changed one bit…

[calebslittleapple]

feels like home: red lace

After finding a lacy surprise in his washing machine, Caleb checks the security footage from his apartment in Skyhaven, only to see that he’s missed out on much more than he realized. Rushing from his home to hers, Caleb quickly realizes that his Pip-squeak is more cunning than he thought, and as the night goes on and their desires are heightened, they’ll finally stop holding back. AKA: turbo virgins CalebMc finally get to doin’ it after some LIGHT panty-sniffy and frustration-inspired exhibitionism/voyeurism HAHA.

Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)

Genre: Smut (with feelings)

CW: Codependency; Pip-squeak as an endearment; Panty Sniffing; masturbation; light exhibitionism; Light Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; Penis In Vagina Sex; Loss of Virginity; inappropriate use of Caleb's Evol; MC is named Emme Sea; Caleb and MC POV

Also on AO3

Where are you? I thought you were supposed to be home by now

Caleb glances at his phone while half-listening to the meeting he’s sitting in on—his third of the day. He is supposed to be spending the evening with his girl, but one thing leads to another, and now she’s sitting in his apartment in Skyhaven all alone.

Meeting running late. Sorry, Pip-squeak. I’ll grab takeout on the way home? ☹️ Do you count as takeout? Come home, Caleb. I’m lonely, and I miss you

His heart twists at that, while other parts of his anatomy tighten… Caleb shakes his head and takes a deep, audible breath. All eyes turn to him.

“Colonel?”

Caleb clears his throat. “We need to wrap this up in the next ten minutes.”

Backs straighten as gazes lock onto the clearly unimpressed colonel. “Right, well. I was going to do an open question period, but that can be handled via e-mail…”

It takes him an hour to get home from work. He’s picked up ramen from a nearby restaurant, but when he steps into his home, all the lights in the living room are off.

She must have gone to bed.

Emme had one hell of a week at work and was fortunate to have a day off. Naturally, she wanted to spend it with him. Of course, Caleb’s time isn’t as free at the moment, but he’d walk on nails if it meant he could free up space in his schedule for her.

After sticking the ramen in the fridge, he pads through the hallways of his apartment, searching for the one person in the world he always wants to see. He checks her room—his old space—but she’s not there.

A soft light spills from within his bedroom, and he spies Emme laying there, half covered by the blankets, and wrapped up around the soft sleeping shirt he’d been wearing last night. Torn between his desire to let her sleep, and his need to see, hear, feel, taste her, Caleb stands there and stares down at her. His Pip-squeak. His first and only love.

Things have been changing between them, though he can’t quite abandon the role that he’d long since been cast in—caretaker, comforter, her Caleb. But sometimes, the walls come down, and she’ll end up in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around her as they tease and flirt and reminisce, sharing heat and space as the borders of their relationship expand.

Sometimes, it’s just like the old days, where they watch a movie, drive each other nuts, and end up falling asleep on his big sofa.

And sometimes… he’ll find himself on his knees in the shower, his Evol holding her tight against the wall, as he sucks and finger fucks her to completion as the sound of water smothers some of her cries while washing away the day, reservations, and everything else.

Being kept from her by work put him in a foul mood. She’d probably tease him for it if she was awake. Stepping close to his bed, Caleb ducks and reaches down, skimming his fingers through her hair as she softly snores on his pillow.

The love he has for her is so potent that it’s hard to think around. Tonight, his desire to keep her safe and comfortable wins out over his desire to hear her moan his name. After showering, Caleb dresses in some pajamas and crawls into bed beside her. His long arms curl around her and tug her close. She softly breathes out his name, presses back into his chest, and goes right back to quietly snoring.

Caleb leans in, breathes in deep, and lets her sweet, apple-tinged scent wash over him. Every moment spent with her is one he cherishes, and with her curled up in his arms, Caleb actually manages to sleep soundly and without nightmares. She’s his good luck charm and chases away the dark with only her presence.

The next morning, they get up together and he makes breakfast for her, while she makes the coffee. Same as always. And when she’s just about ready to head back to Linkon City, she gets up onto her tip toes and kisses him so thoroughly that he has a really hard time letting her go.

“Come visit me in a few days,” she says between breathless kisses.

“Mmm,” he replies, knowing that he has a shitton of work to do, but also knowing that he’ll blow off food, sleep, and anything else he needs to make time for her. A few days pass, and Caleb is spending the evening doing some laundry—his and hers because she always manages to leave something behind.

Which he doesn’t mind. He loves it when she invades his space. Hell, he wishes she’d move in with him, but half hates the idea because he doesn’t want her pulled into the mess of living in Skyhaven. But still… if he could have her all the time, Caleb knows he’d be able to keep her safe.

Keep her for him, and him alone.

It’s these dark, possessive thoughts that consume him when she’s been away from him for more than a few days. Having her clothes nearby is a nice reminder that he’ll see her soon and helps to keep him sane.

Taking a breath, he tries to calm down, and it almost works, at least, until he notices something strange in his washer. Something red is hanging on the inside. Caleb scoops out the fabric, thinking that maybe he forgot to switch a sock over into the dryer, but immediately freezes when he pulls it closer.

It’s not a sock.

They’re red lace panties.

Caleb swallows. When the hell had she worn this? His mind immediately flashes back to her text—he’d almost felt her pouting through the messages. Was this why? Had she dressed up for him?

Fuck.

Closing his eyes, he’s about to throw the panties back into the washer, but maybe they’re clean? He should probably check. And really, shouldn’t something this fragile be washed by hand, anyway? Caleb talks himself into circles before finally gritting his teeth and pulling the flimsy scrap of clothing close to his nose and… and…

Fuuuuck.

They’re uhh… not clean. And they smell… so fucking good, like a sweet blend of her apple-scented soap and her body’s natural fragrance. His cock is immediately and viciously hard in his pants. Like Pavlov’s fucking bell, but for perverts.

But if he’s the pervert for smelling her clothes, what does that make her, considering it seems they were left for him to find? He feels nearly fuckin’ feral with his need for her, and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s popping the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down, and curling his length out from inside his boxers.

With her panties still wrapped around his warm hand, he grips himself, tugging once, twice, thrice before coming on his hand. It’s quick, too quick, and not nearly enough. He looks down at his hand, still gently wrapped around his dick, and stares at the cum staining her panties.

He’s gonna have to wash them now. So, he takes them into the shower and uses the panties to lather himself up with his body wash. When he’s done, they’re gonna smell like him. And when he gives them back, he’s gonna make damn sure that she smells like him, too.

But he comes down from his high quickly enough, and rational thoughts start to creep in. What if it was a mistake, and his dick was tricking him? What if she didn’t mean for him to find the panties? He towel dries the panties, dresses in his pajamas and all but throws himself onto his sofa, wrestling with his desires and insecurities until he’s a wreck.

He flicks the red scrap of clothing around his finger for a moment before he opens the HUD on his phone and remembers that he can check his security footage. He scans the footage from the last few days and finally stops when he sees her standing in his place. She makes a call—to him, likely—and tosses her phone onto the sofa in a fit of pique before dumping herself onto the plush fabric.

A few moments more, and she’s grabbing her phone, scanning through it before she grows bored and tosses it again. He skips a little, and when it comes back up, he’s utterly unprepared for what he’s about to see.

All the air leaves his lungs in a rush as he sees his girl, sitting in the exact spot as he’s sitting, topless, legs spread as her hand slips beneath the band of her lacy panties.

Caleb swallows and turns up the volume, only to be greeted with the sweet sound of her panting his fucking name.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he quickly rolls back to the start and finds her staring up at the camera, only to deftly tug the shirt—his oversized shirt, actually—over and off her body. No bra. A few moments more, and she’s standing, bending, shimmying for the camera as she pulls down her shorts and reveals the tiny red panties he’d found.

She slips back to the sofa. Taking her fingers into her mouth, she sucks for long moments, eyes still glued on the security camera as if she’s imagining he’s watching. Her free hand comes up and cups her breast, fingers teasing her nipples as she plucks and whimpers.

Then, she pulls her hand from her mouth, wet fingers trailing across her abdomen before descending lower… lower…

She’s slow with herself, even though she can tell she’s impatient. No, it’s not that. She’s needy. For him. And here, he’d been in a fuckin’ work meeting about expenses, when she’d been here… with half-naked and wanting.

Goddamnit.

He watches her touch herself, and at a few more points, she looks up at the camera, and it feels like she’s looking right at him. The frustration and need in her expression are painfully evident.

Where are you?

Why aren’t you here with me?

I need you, Caleb.

She does whimper his name more than a few times, sweet supplication spilling from her lips as her fingers dip and slide. And when she comes, again his name tumbles forth, sounding so needy for him that he wants to punch himself for being late that night.

But now, he’s free. Caleb checks Emme’s socials and itinerary, and she’s at home too.

Good.

He’s out the door, panties still in hand, and halfway to her place before he realizes what he’s doing. Thank God the train is running on time tonight. When he finally gets to her door, he stands there for a moment, hand in his pocket, and tightly clenched around her underwear as he fights to control his rapidly beating heart.

He doesn’t want to scare her, but his need for her is so overwhelming it’s making him feel insanely reckless. He takes a breath, and then, another. Long moments pass. Finally, he presses the doorbell to her apartment and waits.

When the door opens, and her beautiful face comes into view, his name falls from her lips. “Caleb?”

And before he can stop himself, he’s got her wrapped up in his arms, quickly urging her legs around his middle as he lifts her. His power closes the door to her apartment, after which he presses her up against it tight.

She kisses him back, confused but gamely keeping up. She’s fearless, his girl. His hand comes up and threads into the length of her hair, and only then does she realize what’s prompted this encounter—her panties are dangling from his fingers.

“Oh,” she breathes against his mouth. “Did I forget something at your place?”

His eyes roll back, forehead resting against hers as he breathes, “You’re lucky I didn’t check the security feed while at work.”

She catches his gaze and holds it, dead serious as she admits, “I wanted you to. It would have gotten you home faster.”

“God, Pip-squeak.”

Her hands slowly caress his chest, as if soothing the beast inside of him, but her words make him ache. “Caleb…”

“Mmm?”

“I want more,” she says, shimmying against his middle. It’s only then that he realizes that she’s wrapped up in a bathrobe… and nothing else.

“What do you need, baby?”

She catches her lip between her teeth before softly admitting, “You. Me. In bed.”

“And then?”

His body feels as tightly coiled as a spring, and what she says next nearly has him launching off the wall.

“You. In. Me.”

And here, he’d thought he was the feral one. As her soft mound presses into his stomach, nails scraping along the line of his shirt only to dip beneath and tease his sternum, Caleb realizes that maybe he was the one who’d fallen into her trap.

His answering grin is fierce and supremely satisfied. “Happy to oblige.”

____

Emme is not entirely surprised when Caleb shows up at her apartment. She’s been waiting for this moment. Waiting and hoping.

Maybe he’s here to check in on me… she thinks, but the moment she opens the door, she knows he’s found her ‘gift’ for him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s trudging them both through her small home, furiously kicking off his shoes as he tries to make his way deeper into her living space.

A few times along the way, he pauses to press her into the wall and kiss her senseless.

Ahh… maybe I’ve pushed him too far this time…

Still, she can’t help but tease. “Did you like the video?”

“I loved it,” he drawls between hungry kisses. “I wish I’d checked it sooner.”

“I thought you always checked in on me while at work?”

“I do, and I did. But I checked earlier that day. Before you called.”

She pouts. “Too bad. Could have turned that meeting into something really interesting.”

His demeanor shifts a bit, and the expression on his face is anything but amused. “Would’a been real inconvenient for me.”

“Oh?”

“Hidin’ all those bodies after they saw you like that…”

“Caleb!”

He chuckles softly, but she gets it because she feels the same. Hell, she’s found herself wanting to claw the eyes out of any onlooker as they covetously stare at her Caleb. Now, there’ll be no going back. They’ll possess each other so completely that neither will even consider the thought that they aren’t meant to be together.

Forever.

And Emme thinks her plan is going swimmingly, at least, until Caleb softly curses and lets her slip from his waist.

“Shit.”

“What?”

He shakes his head and frowns. “Thought I had this all planned out, but I forgot something.”

“What?”

“Condoms.”

Emme lets out a short laugh. “Missing the forest for the trees, eh, flyboy?”

Caleb rubs a hand over his face and is halfway through apologizing for… everything and this, but Emme interrupts him.

“You might not be prepared,” she murmurs while sliding his hand over her forearm. “But I am.”

With his fingers beneath hers, she presses so he can feel the subdermal implant.

“Wha..?”

Rolling her eyes, she explains, “Look, I know things can be kind of weird between us because of… well. You know. Everything. But I thought it would be better to be prepared.”

“You’ve been planning on having sex with me?” he says, sounding shocked even though he’d come over to her place with the intention of having sex with her if she wanted to.

“God, Caleb. Are you telling me you just watched me finger myself on your security camera and then were wondering whether I’ve been thinking about having sex with you? Seriously? How is that even a question right now?”

Her cheeks are burning, but her annoyance blocks out any embarrassment. Of course, she’d been thinking about Caleb and sex. He’s eaten her out literally every single time they’ve been together, never mind all the other things he does—and he expects so little in return.

And she… well, she’s been wanting more. Wanting to experience what the thick length of him inside of her would feel like. She’s greedy and needy, wanting to see the way his eyes linger on her body, the flush in his cheeks, and the way his ears get red when he’s embarrassed… and aroused.

She’s wanted him for a long time, if she’s being honest, but wanting and acting are two separate things. Then, she’d gone to visit him in Skyhaven, and been extra amorous given the time of her cycle it happened to be, and now… he is here, desperate and horny. So, it might not have been the best plan in the world, but it did work.

Still, she’s incredulous as he says, “I kind of thought that maybe you were just pitying me.”

“Good God, Caleb. We’ve done nearly everything except have sex, willingly and quite enthusiastically on both our parts, and you thought… Look, you think I’m naïve and don’t understand the depth of your feelings for me, but it goes both ways. I’m not… I’m not good at expressing my emotions.” He snorts, and she glares. “Anger and annoyance don’t count. And that’s not… those aren’t the kind of feelings I’m talking about.”

“Tell me, Pip-squeak.”

Emme nibbles her lips and huffs softly. “Look, Caleb. You know I love you. I’ve always loved you, but when I lost you, I… It hurt me so bad that I wasn’t sure if I could go on… you know, living. It was a lot. And now… You’re my Caleb, and I want you in every way that I can have you.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

“You came all the way here to have sex with me, and now you’re questioning my resolve?”

“Emme,” he growls softly. “This isn’t a game.”

“I know that, Caleb! So stop being a dummy and listen to me because I’m telling you that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of… whatever with you. A hundred years, a thousand—forever and a day, if we can manage it.”

Caleb takes a breath, nose flaring a little. His jaw clenches, hands curling into fists at his sides, and for a moment, Emme thinks he looks confused.

I thought he’d be happy about this…

But then, his power reaches out, and in one breathless moment to the next, she’s being lifted, legs wrapping of their own accord around his middle. Dipping his head, Caleb presses his face into the length of her hair and breathes deep. She holds him back, just as tight, fingers gently soothing as he takes a moment to really come to understand what she’s saying, and what she needs.

“Pip-squeak,” he says, voice breaking some as his lips skim against her skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long, I just…”

“Mmm, I’ve always been yours,” she murmurs. “Yours, and only yours. So, give me what we both need.”

Caleb lets out a shaky breath before carrying her over to the bed. He uses his Evol to pull the sheets back, and he’s so careful with her as he sets her on the mattress. But she doesn’t want careful. She wants him. Badly.

“Caleb,” she softly calls his name while sliding back into the pillows as his eyes roam. “You don’t have to hold back anymore…”

“Ahh,” he groans, “that’s such a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”

Her eyelids flutter, legs parting to give him better access as she murmurs, “I know you’d never hurt me. So… let’s go further.”

“How far?”

He wants her to be clear, so she indulges him. “I want all of you inside of me. Don’t stop… until we both feel it.”

He looks down, and for a moment, he almost looks sheepish. “What if I suck at this?”

“Oh, Caleb,” she says while reaching out to him. “You’re good at anything you put your mind to. You can be good for me, right?”

He pulls a shaky breath between parted, rough lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. She wants to follow that motion with her tongue, to thread her fingers into his thick hair and hold tight as he grinds his length against her, dig her nails into the muscles of his back to mark him as her own.

Caleb is so wrapped up in his own self-loathing that he has a hard time seeing the truth—that she is just as crazy in love with him as he is with her.

“Tell me… if you need me to stop.”

“What I need is for you to come here. Be with me. C’mon. We’ll do this together.”

Caleb edges closer to the bed, and though she’s already comfy in the pillows, Emme pushes herself up and out, and slides over to the edge so that she can peel the sweatpants from his hips.

“Did you wear these for me?” she teases.

Caleb shakes his head. “I was only half-sentient when I slipped my clothes on.”

“Because of the panties?”

“The panties, the surveillance footage. You.”

And maybe it’s a bit twisted, but it makes her heart beat faster in her chest, and her body tingle when he admits that he’s watched her. Of course, they always keep tabs on each other, so it wasn’t like she didn’t know he’d find out.

She’d wanted him to see her like that. Wanted to push him just a little further than they’d already gone, in hopes that she’d be able to get him to come to her. All she ever had to do was call and ask, and he’d answer—on the second ring—and be ready to do whatever she wanted.

But this was different from before. She wanted him to want her. Not because he felt obliged to do what she wanted, but because he wanted it, too.

He’s hard beneath the soft fabric of his pants. Her eyes trail over the bulge. She knows what he looks like, knows the feel of him against her palm and her body—but taking him inside of her? That’ll be new. Emme rolls her eyes up, eyelashes fluttering as she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of his pants and works them over his hips.

His dick bobs as it slips free. She bites her lips. There are so many things she wants to do right now, but at the top of the list is ‘Sex with Caleb,’ so that comes first. Still, she can’t stop herself from reaching out and gently cupping his sac before trailing her fingers over his length. Caleb stutter-steps out of his pants, cheeks and ears flushing as she catches him off guard.

Leaning back, she lets the housecoat fall open and slide away. It was a good thing he caught her after a shower; she’s ready for him. His shirt comes off next, and even though it’s certainly not the first time she’s seen him like this, she can’t help but think how good he looks.

Hell, sometimes when he’s doing laundry, he’ll walk around in nothing but a towel, the necklace she gave him, and a smile. But the look of him nude combined with the sultry look on her face is making her body achy with need. Emme bites her lip and stares, eyes traveling from the top of his dark head to his neck, his chest, his abdomen… and lower…

Every part of him looks good enough to eat, and he stands there and lets her look her fill. Finally, she slides back on her arms and smiles up at him.

“Come here.”

He does, that big body of his inching up onto her bed and covering hers completely. For a moment, they just hold each other and just enjoy the soft comfort of being together. But then, her fingers start to twitch, and his lips start to trail, and soon enough, his dark head is between her thighs.

He’s gotten ohh sooo good at this. Between the sweet sucking of his lips and the luscious licks from his tongue, coupled with the gentle thrusting of his fingers, he’s got her rolling before she even knows what’s what. But she finds it’s easy to lose herself when she’s with him. Even his mere scent drives her crazy, and when that combines with touch and soft words and ohhh the sweet tingle of his power as he holds her exactly where he wants her, how can she resist?

Finally, when he’s got her to the point that she nearly has to push him off because she’s so sensitized, his head pops up and he looks at her, lips gleaming as he obviously waits to be told what to do next. As if she knows!

“We’re gonna have to figure this out together,” she murmurs.

Caleb rubs his cheek on the inside of her thigh, lips turning into the soft flesh there as he gently kisses the hickey he left behind.

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“Are you?”

Caleb chokes. “God. I dunno. I think I’m gonna go insane.”

Good, she thinks. Then he is ready. Because she wants him so badly, she can hardly think straight. But still, this is new and a little scary, but it’s Caleb, so she knows it’ll be okay.

“Go slow?”

“Whatever you need,” he says while shifting his body between hers.

His dick juts up between them, and she understands why he’s feeling a bit crazy. He’s hard as hell, and the tip is leaking… Reaching down, she softly thumbs the top, which earns her a groan.

“Let’s… do this.” It’s kind of a ridiculous thing to say, but Caleb only chuckles and reaches up to cup her cheek.

“As fast or as slow as you need, got it?”

“Got it.”

And then, he’s lining himself up at her entrance, and the thick press of his crown against her opening is strange and Mmmm… good. He slides a little more in, and inch by inch, her warmth welcomes him in. He’s not… Ohhh… He’s not small, but he’s patient, and gentle, even though she can tell the effort to keep himself from thrusting is killing him.

Ahh… Ahh…

But somehow, she knows he even likes that part. For her, there’s no pain. He’s spent so much time building up to this moment that she’s ready for him. The memories of moments shared between them heighten her desires as well, never mind having Caleb—gloriously nude, straining, lip caught tight between teeth as he inches, inches, inches inside of her.

The moment almost doesn’t feel real. She’s imagined what it would be like to be with him like this for so long that she almost feels out of her mind now that it’s actually happening. And Caleb… God, Caleb… It’s almost like he’s stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

She reaches up and holds his cheeks in her hands, forces him to stare into her eyes, and he looks so lost—helpless, out of control, needful—that it makes her clench. Caleb groans, body twisting and cheeks pressing into her palms.

“Baby…” he moans.

Maybe it’s because she’s a bit reckless, or maybe it’s because she’s a bit demanding, it’s definitely because she’s a bit of a brat, but Emme slowly resonates with Caleb to maintain a measure of control, powers mingling as their bodies rock together. Those combined feelings have them reeling. Her legs clamp down around his middle, his arms tuck in beneath her, around her, holding tight as he grinds and grinds and grinds.

When he finally bottoms out inside of her, his eyes roll back, his lip caught so tight between his teeth that she’s worried it might bleed. And still, she can’t help but laugh some as she stares at him, in this moment.

He’s her Caleb, and this is… sex. And it’s weird, and good, and scary, and hot, and just so much that it’s a little hard to believe it’s real. Caleb must notice her freaking out because he manages to reach up and gently cup her cheek.

“You okay, Em?” She nods, but he’s insistent. “Tell me.”

“I’m good, I’m just… it’s a little overwhelming. You ‘n me. This. All of it.”

“Does it feel bad?”

“Oh, no.”

His lip curls, eyebrow raising as he asks. “Does it feel… good?”

“Caleb!” she whines. “Don’t tease me.”

“Pip-squeak,” he sweetly croons. “You clenched so nicely when I asked that. If you’re not gonna be honest, your body is. So, tell me. Tell me everything. Or… I can find all the sensitive spots on your body and get your secrets anyway. Your choice.”

She pouts, but when he gives her a teasing thrust, she knows he’s not joking. Finally, she admits, “It just feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

“And now that forever is now?”

“It’s so good, Caleb. You are so good, I just…”

“What?”

“I want more, and I’m afraid of getting it.”

“Why?”

“What if I ruin everything?”

“Not possible.”

“How?”

Caleb softly presses his nose into the line of her throat before dipping his head, lips tracing over skin, before he softly sucks a pert nipple into his mouth. That has Emme squirming, fingers digging into his hair as his hips restlessly stir below.

“I’ve made it my life’s work to give you everything that you want. So, this will be no different. You can’t ruin anything because you’re already perfect—we’re already perfect. We were made for this moment. It just… took us a while to get here. And now…”

“And now…?” she softly gasps as he thrusts, this time a little harder.

“Now, we get to see what we’ve been missing out on. And God, baby, there’s so much I wanna do with you… and to you.”

Just like that, Caleb’s got her out of her head and into the moment. It’s Caleb. Her Caleb. Always has been, always will be. She takes a breath, relaxes, and luxuriates in the strangely sweet feel of him inside of her, before curling her legs around his while angling her hips.

“More?”

“Please.”

He’s never been able to resist any one of her requests before, and it’s no different now. Except now, she gets to enjoy the hot-hard feel of him inside and atop her. He’s so responsive to her, moves so patiently, so purposefully, that soon enough, her head is lolling against the sheets as he increases the pace.

Caleb’s so broad and beautiful atop her, body so giving, lips against hers, tongue seeking, swirling, sucking, as he kisses her until she’s breathlessly moaning into his mouth. But he’s not done with her, not even close.

Slowly, his power crawls along the line of her back, curving her just so. Caleb’s always made her feel like she can fly, and right now is no exception. He’s slow and patient as he fucks her, eyes darting over her face, the curve of her neck, the sweet swell of her breasts, watching, watching, watching as if he’s afraid that at any moment she’ll disappear from this bed.

She’s just as possessive of him as he is of her, and at this moment, she wants all of him—the hurt, the pain, the pleasure, the release, the insanity of everything that they mean to each other—all of it and all of him.

Her hand threads into his shaggy hair, fingers pulling just a touch as she softly whines, “Caleb… Harder.”

He chokes, body stuttering. His lips part, and he breathes out with a sound that’s more like a whimper than a moan.The look on his face makes her worry she’s broken him.

His face rubs against her wrist, words halting as he says, “Is that an order…?”

“Do I have the authority to command you?”

“Mmm… absolutely.”

“Then yes, it’s an order.”

Caleb lets out a soft laugh. That is all the warning she gets before his power swells, and Emme quickly finds herself on top with Caleb spread out beneath her. He looks like an offering to a heathen god, arms stretched high above his head, skin flushed, muscles flexed, and chest heaving.

Now, it’s her turn to whimper, not only from the sight before her but because of the thick, tight feel of him inside of her. She can go as fast or as slow, as hard or as soft as she wants. And Caleb… he can take it. For her, he’d do it. He’d do anything.

“Take what you need…” he purrs. “And I’ll match you from below.”

After taking a breath for courage, she shifts her hips and quickly finds that not only is this insanely pleasurable, but being in control heightens her desire. Her fingers curl against the tight muscles of his abdomen, body canting as she rocks.

Eventually, Caleb’s hands guide her hips upward, so she’s well and truly bouncing on him now. And as she falls… Ohhhh… his hips thrust, and he rises to meet her, pressing so deep, tight, and perfect that it feels like she’s gonna come apart just like this.

But when his warm fingers slide over her hip and down the inside of her thigh, quickly teasing between her soaked folds to find that sensitive bud within, then she well and truly loses herself. As Caleb watches, as his fingers roll between her legs, as he thrusts—fast and hard—from below, she nears her peak, and it’s… Oh, God! It’s…

“Caleb,” his name falls from her lips, begging, pleading for him to help her, to give her what she needs. And he does. He always gives her exactly what she needs.

Finally, her orgasm hits, completely inelegant and overwhelming. Waves of pleasure radiate from her core outwards, seductive tendrils flowing through her body, making her clench, grind, and moan. Caleb grunts softly, brow furrowing some as if he’s holding himself back.

He wants to watch her as she comes with him inside her. She knows he doesn’t want to miss a second, but she needs the same from him, and even before her body’s completely finished its release, she’s moving, grinding slow and hard, as she pushes him higher.

Caleb groans, hands slipping to her hips as he rucks up into her, chest heaving as he pants. He looks frantic, eyes darting everywhere—her eyes, the flushed tips of her breasts, between her legs where they’re joined so intimately.

She runs her nails over his chest, faint lines marking his pale chest as he whimpers. She thinks he must be close. He looks… almost lost, but his body is fire-hot, and he’s so hard and thick inside of her that he’s almost too much to take.

Caleb lets out a shaky breath, cool fingers trailing over her skin before pressing low on her stomach. She pouts prettily as he teases her, body shimmying as he finally asks, “Can I… inside you?”

Her eyelids flutter, her body twisting in response to his sweet erotic entreat, and she can’t help but tease him. “Can you what, inside me?”

Caleb groans, fingers digging into her hips as he pants. “Come. I need to come.”

“Inside me?” she whimpers, breathless with her anticipation.

“God, yes. Please.”

Her head rolls back. It shouldn’t turn her on so much to hear him beg, but it does… God, does it ever. To tease them both, Emme shimmies atop Caleb, pressing him so tight and deep that they groan in unison.

He gasps her name, throat tight as his head rolls back. She loves that.

“Caleb… use me.”

“Wh-at? How?” he asks, breathless, needy, and edging closer and closer to his release. And she’ll give it to him, but only if he gives her what she wants first.

“Use your Evol.”

“My Evol?” he sputters.

She gives him a look. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never thought about what it would be like. I’ve thought about what it would be like.”

Caleb swallows thickly. “I won’t last.”

“I don’t want you to. All I want is for you to give me what I want and take what you need.”

His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, and almost haunted as he stares up at her, as thunderstruck as if he’s beholding a goddess. And then… his power softly swirls against her skin, as light as a feather before it wraps around her tight.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

He guides her, looking so beside himself that she almost feels bad, at least, until his wrist flicks and he drags her up until only the thick tip of him is pressing against her opening. One breath, one impossibly long pause, one needful moment stretches between them, until he lets her drop.

She groans as his length is quickly sheathed inside of her, her body canting forward before she can completely catch herself.

“Caleb,” she gasps his name.

He’s got her close again. So close that she can feel the pleasure tingling at the small of her back, in the tips of her nipples, in the sweet space between her thighs that he’s pressing up against—so hot, so hard, so tight.

With his cool hand possessively gripping the back of her neck, and her fingers curled into the tight muscles of his abdomen, Emme throws her head back, rolls her hips, and bounces hard on his length. In and out. In and out. In and out. She loses herself in a rhythm that’s just for the two of them.

It’s exactly what they want, and as she presses down hard, he rolls his hips to meet her, and it’s so much more than enough.

“Ahh… Caleb!”

“Baby…!”

Caleb moans and his hands clutch desperately at her as he pulls, holding her tight as he rolls his hips, grinding into her and enhancing the moment for them both. And with their bodies connected, and their powers blended, everything narrows to a point… before breathlessly expanding. Nothing remains but the wet-hot feel of their pleasure.

Finally, soft moans escape them in unison as the pleasure slowly subsides. Emme dips close, forehead pressing against his as they pant hard. His eyes are closed, brow furrowed. A tear escapes from behind his lashes, dripping along his cheek as she watches, half-dazed and entirely entranced.

“God.” His voice sounds choked, and Emme’s heart clenches, fingers softly brushing away his tears, even though he’s still half-hard inside of her.

“Are… you okay?” Maybe she hurt him? She did kind of lose herself at the end there…

Caleb chokes out a laugh. “I just… am having a hard time believing this is real, Pip-squeak.”

“Oh.”

Decades of knowing each other better than anyone else. Years and years of heartache, of wanting, of almosts and not quites. Now, they’re as close as two people can be and she feels… she feels… so weightless. So free. So right.

So, she tells him that. Tells him that she never wants to lose this—to lose him. Tells him everything she’s ever been too afraid to say, and then tells him how much she loves him, how painfully.

“It hurts, you know. To love someone this much. I think… I’ve always been afraid that I could lose you. And then, I did lose you.”

“Mmm,” he softly breathes. “I’m here now.”

“Forever?”

“No matter what happens, I’ll always find my way back to you.”

“Good,” she comments softly while resting her head on his chest. The sound of his still-frantic heartbeat fills her heart, soothing her as she continues, “You’re mine. You can only leave me if you have my say so, and you never will.”

She can feel Caleb’s shaky breath against her cheek. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Caleb urges her head up and back so she’s staring him straight in the eye. “Are you mine?”

“Caleb,” she replies, voice chiding. “You’re still inside me.”

“And?”

“And, what? If this isn’t a big deal to you, maybe I should wonder about how many times you’ve done this with other girls. I guess, you didn’t always call me to play the girlfriend, after all?”

He frowns, and quick as a flash, he’s got her on her back. He presses in, body hardening in response to the movement or maybe the way he’s got her splayed, arms above her head, hair spilled across the sheets, hips subtly shifting beneath him.

“There’s no one else in the world that I’ve ever wanted. No one I’d ever want to do this with other than you.”

“Then you need to hear me say it?” she asks while arcing her back, body shimmying back into his soft thrust.

“So badly.”

So needy… she thinks, but she doesn’t mind. She’s just the same, but part of her heart will always want to tease him, just a little. He’s her Caleb. She doesn’t want things to change completely, she just wants more and more and more. Her greedy heart asking for everything and still expecting more.

His eyes flutter, body rocking as his length hardens anew. It would be so easy to get distracted, but she’s not gonna chicken out now.

“I’ve loved you since the first moment we met when were kids. You’ve always been mine, and I’ve always been yours. For me, it’s always been you. Always and forever.”

His eyes close and he grins. Emme thinks she’s never seen him look quite so happy before, nor so free.

“Good. I think… I couldn’t handle it if it were any other way.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry because we belong to each other now and… ahh…”Her words trail off as Caleb’s body shifts, distracting her as he stirs within.

“I missed my evening workout,” he drawls.

Emme twists her hips, back arching as she purrs, “Well, get to it, then. Can’t have you slacking off now.”

“That a challenge, Pip-squeak?”

“Of course.”

His lip curls into a smug smile. “Well, let’s see who laughin’ by the end of this.”

And Emme, well, she’s not laughing. Screaming, crying out his name, begging for more? Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly it. By the time they’re finished with each other, limbs entangled, bodies hot, slick with sweat and desire, she’s well and truly tired.

“Feels like every single muscle in my body is sore.”

“You askin’ for a massage?”

“Mmm, a shower. Then sleep.”

“And then…?”

“You’re not slacking off, are you, Caleb?”

A soft laugh rolls up from his chest. “You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, hand tracing a path down her neck, over the soft curve of her breast before pressing low on her abdomen. “Especially here.”

She whimpers softly, and it’s almost as if she can still feel him inside of her, the phantom press of his thick length as he possesses her completely.

“Stop complaining.”

He shakes his head, damp tendrils sticking against his brow as he murmurs, “We both know, I’ll always give you everything that you want. So, shower first, Pip-squeak.”

“And then?”

“Once I’ve got you cleaned up,” he says, fingers skimming along the slick line of her sex. “I’ll get you messy all over again.”

If she wasn’t so damn tired, she’d have hoped right back on him and gotten him just as messy, but he’d loved her so completely, that Emme wasn’t certain she’d be able to walk, let alone ride him. But later… later… she’d have him. And he’d have her.

And he’d fill the needy spaces of her heart, just as she’d fill his, and together, they’d become whole—again and again, as many times as needed, for a hundred years, a thousand… forever and a day.

Author’s Notes:

HAHAHA I want to be clear that I got the idea before this BEFORE I saw Caleb’s new card, but now I’m smug about it because it’s actually IC for him to have security footage of her lmao. ANYWAY. This is loosely based son some great fan art I saw that has caleb mcfuckin loosing it at the laundry mat when he finds some sexy red panties. God bless fan artists, fr fr. Also, I am very certain I’m not the first nor I hope the last to write ‘Caleb is a panty sniffer’ fic but LMAO. I couldn’t stop myself. I MEAN THAT LITERALLY fingers just go go go of their own accord.

This is paraphrased from some in-game dialogue:

His face rubs against her wrist, words halting as he says, “Is that an order…?”

“Do I have the authority to command you?”

“Mmm… absolutely.”

“Then yes, it’s an order.”

This kind of skips around, not that I’m writing rationally here (literally just writing what I feel like I need to write to keep myself from going insane haha), but I still have some more planned for these two. Things are probably gonna get a lot busier, but I’ll see what I can fit in. Thanks so much for all of your support and for being so kind. Any mistakes are there because I need to keep humble lol.

Banner courtesy of cafekitsune!

[kawoala]

📧 you have two (2) new messages !

@ aizawashouta ˒ 5h ago

“capital-b Bitch”

contents; word count- 564. profanity. kitty!! this is short, sorry. i blacked out writing this. enemies to lovers. neighbors! au.

If there’s one thing you’ve noticed while living in this building, it’s that your neighbor is a capital-b Bitch. You’ve had exactly one interaction and it went something like this:

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I am darkness incarnate. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t even think about me. If I hear loud noises from your apartment, I’m breaking the door down to shut you the hell up.”

Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but pretty damn close! He exudes the energy of a ten-year-old street cat who's been through so much shit, that he refuses to trust anyone or anything. He glares at you every time you get your mail, and from what you’ve picked up, he’s the same for everyone else in the building.

Even now, as you’re crouched down outside of the building, rain pouring down on you, trying to give a stray cat some food, you can see him glaring at you from the doorway.

“Come here, kitty,” you coo softly, reaching forward just a little bit. The cat retreats back into its corner and your brows furrow, frowning slightly. “I just want to give you some food, kitty.” You tear some chicken off of the piece you’re holding and toss it over to the cat. It hesitates, sniffing it suspiciously, but inevitably eats it.

His stare is burning into your skin, your brows furrow further at the thought of it. You glance over at him, hoping he’ll get the hint and go away, but his stare doesn’t waver.

You roll your eyes and stand. “I’m sorry, is there a problem?” You put your hands on your hips and narrow your eyes. “You keep glaring at me like this is your cat and I’m trying to steal it, or something.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks closer to you, then past you, crouching down right in front of the cat. He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and you peer over his shoulder in confusion.

The cat comes out of its hiding spot, purring and curling around his hand.

Your jaw drops. “What- what the hell? How did you do that?”

He turns slowly, eyes half-lidded, shaded by his hair. “She’s my cat.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times. “What?” Your voice is quiet, hands dropping limp at your sides. “Why is she outside then? You must not be a very good cat owner.” You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You’ve always prided yourself on being nice to people, even when they don’t deserve it, but that was . . . Not your best moment. “I- sorry, that was rude. Why is she outside?”

He stands to his full height and you take a step back, almost intimidated by his aura. “I work long hours. It’s not good to be kept up in that apartment all day.” He walks by you again, brushing your shoulder as he does so. “She didn’t come to you because she doesn’t really like chicken. She only ate it because she’s gluttonous. Try fish next time; all cats like fish.”

“Oh,” you breath out, shoulders slouching in defeat. The cat follows him as he walks inside, swaying its tail in an almost mocking manner. “Bye, kitty,” you whisper, frowning.

Okay, so maybe he’s a Bitch, but he’s a Bitch with a cute cat.

[adkawariatka]

Back of or I will bite

Cold rain drips from Danny’s jacked, water slushes in his shoes when he walks through dirty streets of Gotham. He is cold. It should be rare experience for him nowdays, since his death actually. However, recently he discovered that if he mistreats his human half, this is what happens. He hadn’t eaten anything for too long and now cold can affect him. He is starting to get used to that feeling, when hunger twists his stomach and chill runs on his skin like snake. Normal humans would be already dead. Unfortunetly he isn’t normal human. It is why he is in this streets anyway. When goverment with your own parents hunt you like an animal you try to be invisible.

There is no better place to dissapear than city as dangerous as Gotham. Here no one will pay attention to some homeless kid when every other week some psycho tries to murder bunch of civilians while a furry in bat costiume fights them off. That is why he and his friends chose this place. He blends in, dissapears. They decided he needs to lay low. He can do that he can be invisible goddamit. Well could be invisible like a week Ago. Right now his physical state isnt really cooperating. Where is super-healing when he needs it.

Right now he turned to his other special abilities. Ones he buried deep, into The back of his head, as deep as sands of The cursed desert he was born on. Right next to The memory of a twin that he loathes with his whole existence. He moves with practise even if his stealth skills are a little rusty. They were trained in him since he was a baby.

He needs to find Food, Danny lived in gotham for three weeks he knows some spots for leftovers, not fresh ones, but enough to sustain him. Sometimes he steals something fresh but lately he has no energy to do so. His gun-wound is still healing even if it should be gone by now. It is not deadly obviously but painful enough to remind him of its existence from time to time.

Danny checked trashcans behind two restaurants before he found one that wasn’t already occupied. He learned hard way to stay away from others who will do everything to eat, even long expired goods. He is not proud of it. However, Danny survived far worse. He died for fucks sake! Some trash Food isnt going to do him.

Danny was just peaking into The containers before he Heard loud bang and angry shouts. It was a little early for big fishes to get out on street. Sun heven’t even set yet. He needs to hurry. As he was to pull out that half eaten sandwich, footsteps Sounded behind him. Before he turned around there was also a heavy thud and loud groan. Immedately, he turned around and came race to face with Nightwing. He was doing so good up until now. He just had to came across one of Batman’s sidekicks.

- Hey there, you alright?

He sounded genuine but was also part of justice league that worked for goverment. So he was a big no no for Danny. That’s why he nodded and sweeped his eyes around to find possible exits. They were in backalley with only one exit which was a source of fight noises.

- Okey kid we need to get out of here. I can see that you prefer to keep your distance but Right now we don’t have time for comforts

Then he catches Danny by his waist and hoists them both on The nearest root. His left side with a wound is on fire, vision goes white for a moment and he stumbles when Nightwing lets him go. Danny doesn’t know what happend after but when he can normally breathe he is alone. On a roof. How The hell is he supposed to get down without his powers or any gear in the matter!? He goes to The edge and observes The fight. It looks like one of The gangs had some sort of a deal and The Bats had a tip that it will take place here. Just Danny’s luck to end up in The middle of a mess. At this point it can’t really get worse. There is no sense in trying to get down now. He will wait until fight is over. There is too much gangsters and people in spandex for Danny’s liking down There. So he sits and waits. Eventually fight dies down. He might have dozed off there a little bit. Light footsteps alerts him of new presence on his roof. Danny stands up when short figure in black yellow and green costiume stops before him. He assumes that it is his lift to the ground but the hero stops suddenly. He watches long enough to make Danny uncomfortable. Then Danny hears words he hoped never to came across again:

-Danyal?

He sharply backs away. No! he thinks. Not him! Not now! He knows that voice. God Dammit! And he thought that his situation couldn’t get worse. He was already starving, wounded, without roof above his head, hunted by goverment and his parents! Why not add an assassin cult to the mix?! Whoever fucks with his fate has twisted kind of humour. Danny heels hit the end of the roof. But the hero is still getting closer.

-Danyal its you. I know it is you. You need to stop…

- Stay away from me! - Danny thinks that he might be screaming. He is not sure. He is terrified, last time they saw each other didnt end well for him. His vision starts to swirl again, his wound stings, he might throw up. Does he even has something to throw up with? Danny is pretty sure he is going to die. Maybe that’s why just in spite for monster of a brother he bends backwards just a little too much. Last Think he hears are Damian’s screams he does not know why he seems so panicked. He probably came here to finish the job so why bother? Or worse he came back to bring Danny back. Doesn’t matter not Right now. He is falling, it reminds him a little bit about flying. God he loved it. He wonders if second death will hurt as much as the first. Will he get to go away? Will he be able to fully die? Or will he gets stuck as a full ghost? It is his last thought before his vision goes black.

I know I wasn’t here for some time. But I had this idea and wanted to share. I will probably continue it. I want to include interaction of Danny with Damian. There is a lot of fics with them loving each other and they are amazing, However, the concept of Danny hating Damian peaked my interest. How would that work? Besides, Danny’s angst is of course a must😆

[toasttt11]

ice cream

summary: being roommates meant never taking the step to becoming something more but when her date falls through?

matt boldy x reader

Matt groaned as he took his airpods out and sat up getting out of his bed and stood up but froze hearing sound coming from the TV in the living room, he didn’t leave it on meaning his roommate was home, which she was supposed to be on a date right now for Valentine’s day also the reason he’s been mopping in his bedroom.

Matt ran a hand over his hair looking in the mirror before heading out of his room and walking down the hallway and seeing her curled up on the couch with a fluffy blanket and a bowl of ice cream that he knows is cookie dough.

She looked up just as Matt was about to say something, “Before you say anything about me being at home tonight, i want to remind you that you are too.” She snipped knowing Matt made it know he didn’t like her date she was going on.

Matt slowly nodded before smirking softly, “I was gonna say share some with me.” Matt teased sitting down next to her and quickly stealing her spoon with his hockey reflexes making her grumble.

“Get your own.” She grumbled taking the spoon back.

“But yours is so much better.” Matt teased softly relishing in the little smile she tried to hide.

Being roommates for over two years now didn’t help his feelings for her and they only seemed to grow more and more but he can never just admit what he feels for her being to scared he might mess up their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same.

She rolled her eyes fondly but didn’t stop him as he got under her blanket and stole her spoon again eating more of his ice cream.

“What happened to your date?” Matt asked eating a bite of ice cream ignoring the bitter feeling he gets whenever he thinks about her going on dates.

“Don’t say i told you so.” She grumbled taking the spoon back. Matt had been insistent when he found out who her date was that he was a total jerk, Matt was right.

“I won’t.” Matt gave her a softer but seriously look.

“He stood me up.” She mumbled fiddling with the throw blanket over the two of them.

Matt scoffed feeling angry someone treated her this way, “Well he’s a total tool and he’s an idiot because he’s missing out.” Matt seriously spoke to her making her lips quirk up in a little smile.

Matt grabbed back the spoon and smirked just slightly wanting to distract her.

“Dude!” She squawked seeing how big of bite of ice cream he just took, “That’s like half the bowl!” She groaned dramatically.

“Don’t dude me.” Matt dramatically complained back giving her the spoon back.

Her head hit the back of the couch and she looked to the right as Matt, “And what should i call you?” Her voice lowered in a whisper that sounded a lot more flirty than she meant it to be.

Matt’s breath got caught in his throat with how close she was and her tone, “What do you want to call me?” Matt whispered back deciding to not be scared about ruining their friendship for once.

She paused looking around his face nothing the look he was giving her, “I don’t know.” She swallowed dryly as her body leaned a bit closer to him and she could see every single one of his eye lashes with how close she was.

Matt swallowed biting on his lip nervously before taking deep breath, “Tell me if i’m reading this wrong.” Matt mumbled just as he brought his hand up to her cheek cupping her face and leaning as close as he can get before his eyes flickered to her eyes once more before finally pressing his lips to hers.

Her hands automatically went to his hand tangling her fingers in his dirty blonde waves pulling him even closer making him against her lips.

Matt pulled back his forehead rested on her forged as they both panted trying to catch their breath, “Happy Valentine’s day.” Matt softly mumbled as his thumb gently rubbed across her cheeks.