#I’m tearing this week into shreds

[freyjasbabygurl]

I’m bearing my teeth in aggression actually don’t you dare call it a smile again

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[madaqueue]

LIKE WE WERE MADE TO

of course your doting boyfriend satoru cares about you - he walks you to work every morning, packs your lunches, makes you tea every night before bed. he'd do anything for you, so of course he'll help you with your heat.

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!f!reader

themes/content: dark content (omegaverse). smut. heats, fingering, knotting, light dumbification, satoru being a little lovesick. (wk: 1.3k)

a/n: YAYYY happy quintober everyone >:) here's my contribution for the @ficsforgaza kinktober event, so excited to be a part of this and check out the link below for more works under this project! view my full kinktober masterlist and the google form for signup to be tagged in other works too! hope you all enjoy :3

quintober masterlist | sign up form | ffg kinktober

Satoru had no idea what to expect as he ran home through the crowded streets; since reading your brief text of ‘Come home. Need you.’ the alarm bells sounding in his head had failed to quiet. He prepared for the worst, scenarios racing through his mind. Were you hurt?

As he barrels through your front door, he certainly doesn’t expect what lays behind it: you, sprawled out naked on the couch, flushed cheeks and sweating, two fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

“What’s going on-”

The sentence dies in his throat as his entire body tenses. Something new hangs in the air, something sending his every sense into overdrive. Almost sickeningly sweet, with an unmistakable, carnal need.

Your heat.

“‘Toru,” you breathe out - even his name on your tongue sounds different, an unfamiliar desperation dripping from it, “need you, now.”

In an instant he’s by your side, your scent growing exponentially stronger with each step he takes until it begins to cloud his own thoughts, overcome with his body’s innate desire to care for you, to care for his omega.

He’s never seen you like this - in your time dating, your suppressants had done their job; maybe that’s why you barely noticed when they ran out last week. Just a few hours ago he was walking hand-in-hand with you to work, your eyes glimmering as you told him about your plans for the day. Something about a big meeting with supervisors? He was honestly a bit distracted by the way your thumb drew circles along his skin, the new perfume he thought you were wearing, how pretty you looked all bundled up in your coat and scarf, like a little present waiting to be unwrapped - before you lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Are you even listening to me, ‘Toru?”

“No,” he beamed.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stifle the smile spreading across your lips. Pressing a peck to his cheek, you turned on your heel with a small wave, your fingers dancing against the backdrop of the fall sky.

You always knew how to handle him - that was something he admired about you. He knew his personality easily veered into chaos, and yet you never seemed bothered by it, holding him in your palms and keeping him a stable shape. It took strength to do that, to not let his soul blend the edges of your own.

And yet, now, his strong, independent girlfriend has become nothing more than a sweet, desperate mess. The thought makes his teeth ache.

“Please,” the broken mewl pulls him back to the sweetness surrounding you as you continue pumping your fingers in and out.

Before he can choke out a response, your hands begin hastily removing his clothes, tugging off anything you can grab, palms sweaty against his torso as you unzip his uniform. With a harsh tear, his shirt falls to shreds on the floor, muscles rippling beneath. He was never known for his patience, after all - could you blame him?

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, climbing on top of you so his thighs straddle your body, sinking into the cushions. “I’m here, m’gonna take good care of you.”

Two lanky fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance as his free hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling your palm from between your legs. He holds it above your head, leaning forward and blanketing you in his warmth. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as he slides inside, curling his fingertips towards that spot only he seems able to reach.

But it’s not enough.

“More, ‘Toru, please, need more,” you whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily. The words continue spilling into the air, desperate pleas for what you really need, what only he can give you.

“Okay, just - fuck - gimme a second.” And he’s panting already, the biological drive within him threatening to take over, to pin you down and fuck you until you’re nothing more than a limp little mess beneath him. But he’s better than that.

Right?

It takes every ounce of control to align his tip with your core and stay there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch as he knows you would want him to, but it’s made all the more difficult with your hands weakly grasping at his hips in an attempt to pull him forward.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, “pleaaaseee-aaaahhh.”

When his cock finally enters you, all your nerves alight in flames. Your vision goes white, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Exactly what you needed. For a moment, everything stills, returning to your senses as his own musky scent begins mingling in the air with yours.

The brief clarity lets you pick up on the prettiest little whines falling from his lips at the way you envelop him so perfectly, two souls made for one another.

In only a few thrusts he’s sweating, his body sticking to yours with each push and pull of his pelvis. It’s hot, impossibly hot, both of your cheeks flushed and gasping for air. When his lips meet yours, it’s imprecise and messy, breathing into each other’s mouths as your tongues meld. He tastes like sugar and desire and love and cinnamon, like some dessert you were denied as a child for fear it would give you a tummy ache. But now, it’s the only thing satiating you, the only thing you can stomach.

“M’gonna make you feel better,” he’s mumbling into you, “gonna fuck you so good.”

“Only you, ‘Toru,” you babble, and you’re just as gone as he is, “has to be you.”

There’s truth to it, of course - only he could quell the growing ache inside you. Only your alpha. Your bodies were made for this, you realize: with each increasingly rough thrust, he hits every spot inside you so perfectly, and as your walls begin to flutter around him, you squeeze him in just the way that has him losing the last remaining shreds of his sanity.

Each beat of his heart echoes through his ears, overshadowing the wet squelches of your cunt around him and the lewd slapping of his balls against your ass. All he knows is you - his sweetheart, his other half, his omega.

As he ruts into you, something hot and thick begins coiling in his stomach, something unfamiliar, but the words are engraved into his soul as he slurs, “gonna take my knot f’me, yeah? ‘S’gonna help, okay?”

Teary eyes blink up at him, glossed over in pleasure as you nod. “Need it, please,” you whimper. Your mouth forms the word on pure instinct, “Alpha.”

And that’s all it takes to make him snap.

With a broken cry of your name, he releases into you.

The sensation of his cock twitching sends you over the edge, the heat in your chest burning brighter and brighter and brighter until it’s all you can feel.

As you come down from your high, there’s a new pressure in your core - you feel so, so fucking full.

His cum swells inside you as he cautiously adjusts his body weight. Pink cheeks and blue eyes find your gaze and he gives you a weak chuckle, met with your own equally fucked-out grin as you brush sweat-slicked hair from his forehead.

It takes effort to slow his breathing enough to speak, enough to think. “Your first heat with me,” he muses to himself. His heart warms at the thought: now he can take care of you in the way he was made to. “Love you s’much, baby,” he hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before nuzzling into your neck, softly breathing in the warm scent.

“Love you, too.” Your fingertips slowly scratch his undercut, the haze now clearing enough that you swear you hear him purr. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him - around his knot - as you gently run your nails down his back. His body melds perfectly around yours. “Alpha.”

[sleepynoons]

alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex

notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.

edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!

edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.

“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”

you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.

you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.

your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”

you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”

but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.

“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”

you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.

while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.

but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.

he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.

it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”

one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.

this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.

alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.

then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.

“wait, alhaitham, no –�� 

your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.

“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”

alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”

you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.

your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.

even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why��re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

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“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[2hightocare]

INFATUATED!

“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎

Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.

Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…

a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.

Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.

“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.

“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.

“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.

You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.

Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.

Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.

He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.

He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.

“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.

“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.

“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.

Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.

That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.

“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.

….

“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.

“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.

“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.

“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.

You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.

“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.

“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.

“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.

“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.

“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.

You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.

Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.

“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.

When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.

“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.

“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.

“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.

“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.

“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.

You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.

“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.

“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.

As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.

“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.

“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.

“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.

“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.

Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.

“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.

“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.

“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.

“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.

“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.

“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.

“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.

“I love you,” you sniffle.

….

"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.

"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.

"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.

"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.

“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.

"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.

“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.

“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.

[tunatoge]

take a slice - s. gojo x reader

contents: teen!gojo x teen!reader, angsty with a fluffy (?) ending, mentions of geto and haibara, gojo can’t lose another person

you sit in your dark and nearly empty dorm room with your laptop propped up on your knees. you have the cheapest plane tickets pulled up on the screen as you gnaw on your fingernails, wondering if this is really what you want to do.

for nearly thirty thousand yen you could get a flight to the incheon international airport and away from your life as a jujutsu sorcerer. you know it wouldn’t last long until the higher ups found you in korea but you were ready to get even a little shred of normal, domestic living. right now, you couldn’t handle being a sorcerer after suguru’s defection and haibara’s death. you wanted out.

your cursor hovers over the ‘complete transaction’ button as you think about how easy it would be to run away and how difficult it would be to restart your life. it’d be easier to stick around with satoru and shoko but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to want to. it’s tempting to throw everything you know away and restart from the beginning. you could finally think about dating someone without endangering them, or adopting a pet without potentially leaving it owner-less after an ill timed death.

you groan at your thoughts and shut your laptop as you fall backwards and grip at your hair.

“goddamnit!” you hiss, swiping your laptop off of your lap and onto your bed next to you. hot, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you pull and tug at your hair in frustration.

you roll back and forth in your bed, knocking into your laptop over and over. a small knock makes you stop as you turn to look at your door, satoru leaning in the doorway with his pillow under his arm. satoru frowns at you and you know he can tell what you were planning on doing but instead of mentioning it he makes his way into your bed and forces himself between your arms. you quietly cuddle with him as he hikes his leg over your hip and presses his face into your chest. after a few minutes, you move to grab your laptop out from underneath you to confirm your flight.

“don’t run away,” satoru whispers, his voice laced with hurt and exhaustion. “please.”

you inhale sharply as you roll away from him and open your laptop. you and satoru stare at your bright computer screen in the darkness of your room. for nearly thirty thousand you could be in a different country within a few hours. you already had your visa and everything else planned out; this was just the last thing you needed.

you turn to satoru with a small frown, carefully watching his expression as he looks up at you with sorrowful eyes. you have a feeling he won’t try to stop you or even beg you to reconsider.

“i’m scared,” you finally whisper. “i don’t think i can make it as a sorcerer; i don’t think i’ll live a long life exorcizing curses.” you swallow the bile that rises in your throat as you think about abandoning satoru and shoko and the two kids satoru saved earlier in the week.

you grasp at your hoodie strings as you turn back towards your laptop. tears roll down your cheeks and splatter onto your laptop. you let out a loud sob as you clutch your face in your hands.

“i don’t wanna’ die!” you wail, “i wanna’ live a long life with everyone i love around me! i wanna’ raise a dog or a cat, and i wanna’ be loved and married!” snot runs down your nose as you wipe at your face with your sleeves.

“you won’t die,” satoru tells you. “i won’t let you die. you and i, we can be teachers here at the school and live our lives as teachers and i’ll take your missions and make sure you’re safe. that kid, megumi, he can summon demon dogs with his technique. we can raise him and his sister and his dogs together.” satoru reaches up and grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he looks at you with a steely look in his eyes. “and i love you and we can get married whenever you’re ready.”

your heart stutters as you look at him in shock. throughout the past two years shoko and utahime had insisted that satoru had feelings for you, but you always thought they were lying. you told yourself that he had feelings for suguru, that he only ever had eyes for suguru. your lips tremble as satoru sits up and takes your face in his palms.

“so please,” he whispers, “don’t leave me.”

you nod as you shut your laptop and let him pull you into his chest, his fingers clutching at your hair as you cry.

[little-diable]

A dare to kiss - Tyler Owens (smut)

I'll keep on riding the Tyler train till my ideas run out. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been best friends for years. But after another storm season, she finally snaps and realises she can't be around him any longer, not when her feelings for him won't let go of her. But perhaps the feelings aren't unrequited as she fears.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), friends to lovers, idiots in love, some angst, but a very happy ending

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“How old are you? Stop it, Boone!” (Y/n)’s voice dripped with annoyance, eyes flickering from her friends and colleagues down to her drink. It had been their last day of chasing, saying goodbye to another season that had been filled with exciting but also horrible moments they all haven’t quite processed just yet.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a kiss!” Boone excitedly clapped his hands while he let his gaze wander from (y/n) to Tyler, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. They no longer knew who had started their annual game of truth and dare, passing a few hours where they got to spill secrets, fears, and do harmless dares to end the night with stomachs that hurt from laughing too much.

At least it had always been like that until this very dare, something that clearly went too far for her aching heart. Her feelings for Tyler were no secret, they all knew of the feelings she harboured for her best friend – all but Tyler, who obliviously chased other women while (y/n) was forced to suffer around him. 

“Give her another dare, Boone.” Tyler’s voice drew all eyes towards him, ripping their hope of finally being able to push the two of them together into shreds. They were too focused on Tyler to pick up on the hurt crossing her features. It was her own fault, she should have just kissed him, should have crossed the distance between them while the chance had been right there for her to grasp. A chance that had passed the second Tyler had spoken up.

“You know what, I’m tired anyway, I’ll head back to the motel.” She rose to her trembling feet, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket to hide the fists she had balled them into from their confused eyes. She didn’t wait for them to speak up, turned from them with an aching heart and allowed the darkness to swallow her while almost jogging back to her room. 

Even though (y/n) hated parting from the group, not wanting to leave them that early on their last evening together, she needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. Staying this close to Tyler for the past weeks had been more exhausting than she had thought it would be, unable to endure his closeness any longer. She should look forward to returning home, to quiet hours where she won’t have to worry about hiding the feelings she hadn’t been able to let go of for the past years. 

The door to her room fell shut behind her, letting the silence wrap itself around (y/n) while she wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Curses rumbled through her, she felt as if she was drowning, unable to breathe while the room closed in on her. Her body started moving without listening to her mind's command. She threw all her stuff into her bag, hastily reaching for her things as her vision grew more blurry. 

She needed to get away, needed to make it home, she couldn’t stand being around him for another minute. She left the room with her heart in her throat, forced to a sudden halt before she could collide with Dexter. His hands shot out to catch her should she fall, drawing her tear stained features up towards him. 

“Oh, (y/n). What’s going on?” She let her head fall against his chest, searching the closeness of the man who had always treated her like his daughter, the first one she had told her feelings for Tyler to. A sob wrecked through her, forcing him to tighten his hold on her to keep (y/n) close. 

“I need to leave, I can’t do this any longer, Dexter. Here, this is my room key.” She pushed the key into his hand, trusting him to take care of checking her out in the morning. His hand ran up and down her spine in a comforting manner, set on soothing the pain she felt all too clearly. Another sob left (y/n) before she stepped out of the embrace. “Tell the others I’m sorry and that I’ll reach out soon.”

(Y/n) squeezed his hand one last time, trying to put on a soft smile for the man who stared down at her with pity swimming in his pupils. She felt his eyes on her as she jogged towards her truck, set on driving through the night to make it home before the sun would paint the horizon in bleeding colours.

……

“Hey, it’s me again. It’s been a while, and I really need to see you, (y/n). We need to talk, call me back, please.” 

She woke to new voice messages every single day since leaving a few weeks ago. At first Tyler had voiced out his disappointment and confusion, not understanding why she had left him just like that. And then the sadness had entered the picture, begging (y/n) to call him back because he missed her and was sorry for whatever he had done to her. And now his voice no longer carry any emotions, monotonous and unfamiliar without any nicknames he’d normally use. 

(Y/n) knew it was time for her to finally reach out to him, to bury her own sadness and her embarrassment and to call her best friend, if she could still call him that. Her hands shook as she clicked onto his contact, listening to it ring five times before he answered with a whisper of her name. 

“Hi,” no further word managed to leave her. She listened to him exhale, shuffle around before speaking up.

“Are you at home today? I’d come round to see you.” A part of her screamed at her to say no, knowing that she shouldn't meet him at home, the one place where she had managed to focus on her feelings, giving her space to think about them properly. But the stronger part knew it would be less awkward to see him here than somewhere else where they could easily run into fans. 

“I am.” His hum shot shudders down her spine, forcing her to fist the blanket she had tossed over her cold legs. 

“I’ll be over around three, see you then.” He ended the call before another word could leave her. Her stomach was churning, not used to his cold voice and how he spoke to her as if she was a business contact or a stranger almost. 

(Y/n) let her phone drop into her lap while she sank further into her couch. What would she even tell Tyler? She wasn’t ready for his rejection, wasn’t ready to mess up what was still remaining of their friendship. Even though she couldn’t stand being close to him for longer than a few hours, (y/n) also knew that life without Tyler by her side wasn’t worth living. 

……

“There you go.” She pushed the coffee towards Tyler who was leaning against the kitchen island, right across from her. His eyes followed her every move, ever since a rather awkward hug and exchanged pleasantries that felt as if they didn’t know one another at all. He shot her a grateful smile before taking a sip, not letting his gaze leave her nervous features once. “How are you?”

“Cut the bullshit, (y/n). Wanna tell me why my best friend ran from me and then decided to ghost me for the past weeks?” Her heart sank, letting her guilt settle deep inside her stomach. Her eyes found interest in studying her trembling hands, not daring to get lost in Tyler’s angry expression. 

“I’m sorry, I was just so exhausted with it all. I needed some time away.” A humourless laugh clawed through Tyler, a sound that finally forced her eyes back towards him. 

“You’ve never been good at lying. What is this really about, huh? Why did the others all seem to understand what’s going on, but you couldn’t tell me?” His voice carried his hurt, dripping with sadness and anger she also felt flushing through her system. 

“It's nothing you need to worry-“ the sound of his palm coming down on her kitchen island interrupted her, forcing her pupils to widen as he shook his head at her. It felt as if she was looking at a stranger, not once had she seen Tyler this hurt and angry, never directed at her at least.

“Just be honest, (y/n)! I’m supposed to be your best friend, or is this what this all is about? Do you no longer want to be-“ now it was on her to interrupt him.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” And then they were engulfed by nothing but silence. The seconds faded by, turning into almost a full minute of Tyler just staring at her with an unreadable expression. It seemed as if he was combing through his every moment with her, reliving all the past years to figure out how he could have missed this. His silence forced her lips to part again, knowing that she needed to say some more. 

“I tried to let go of it, I really did. But being around you made it impossible for me. I am sorry, I just needed some time alone. And then that dare, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but it would have been my end, and I couldn’t risk losing that last shred of sanity I had in me.” Her whispers lured Tyler closer, letting her watch him round the kitchen island to come to a halt in front of her. 

“Look at me, darling.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname, taking some fear from her trembling body. Slowly she raised her gaze, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “I’m sorry it took me this long to see it, but I was quite occupied with hiding my own feelings from you.”

Tyler’s words left her frozen, staring at him with confusion laced in her gaze. Her mind was racing, letting his words sink in to understand what he had just told her. A soft chuckle rumbled through him, “Will you let me kiss you? No dare this time.” 

She shifted her weight onto her toes, letting her lips collide with his. Tyler instantly replied to the touch, kissing (y/n) breathless while his hands moved down her sides. She deepened the kiss with a soft moan clawing through her, allowing his tongue to meet hers. Both their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests as if they had just returned from another chase, losing themselves in the adrenaline that still buzzed through them. 

Tyler parted from her for a moment, hands wandering down her thighs to pick her up and place her down on the kitchen island. For the first time since she had started being with partners, she truly felt weightless, trusting Tyler fully with whatever he had in mind. Slowly, he connected their lips again, kissing her to stop her racing thoughts from overthinking what was about to happen.

“Do you want this? Do you want to be touched by me?” His voice was raspy, deeper than it had been before - details that made her walls flutter in excitement. 

“Please, touch me, Tyler.” The hum he let go of was drowned out by her gasp as he pushed her back down on the kitchen island, feeling his wandering hands find their way to her pair of shorts. He pulled the fabric down her legs, panties following moments later to expose her lower body to his piercing eyes.

“What a beautiful sight, it was worth waiting for all these years.” Heat rose up her neck, spurred on by his praises. Carefully he touched her, letting his fingers brush through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin. Goosebumps littered her body as if she was trapped in a cold room, unable to stop shaking. And yet her body was burning up, set ablaze by his touch. 

“I need to taste you, can I, baby?” Nothing but a moaned ��yes” left (y/n). His tongue felt rough against her pulsing bundle, letting the sensation zap through her aching body like lighting. She tried to find something to hold on to, and yet her fingers could only wander to his head to tug on his almost golden roots. 

“Jesus fuck, why haven’t we done this sooner?” (Y/n)’s words left Tyler chuckling against her heat. The sound vibrated on her skin, pushing her even closer towards the edge.

“Seems like I ain’t doing my job well enough if you can still speak.” He was urging himself to move his tongue quicker while pushing two fingers into her heat. Her walls clenched around his fingers, drawing him even closer in while her orgasm crept closer and closer. A moan clawed through (y/n), letting it reverberate through the air as Tyler sucked on her pulsing bundle. 

“Atta girl, I got you, pretty.” He comforted her, cozied her along to finally push her over the edge. His name left her parted lips like a prayer, unable to think of any other thing to say as she felt the blinding sensation wander up her limbs. (Y/n) came without a warning, back arched off the cold kitchen island top. 

Tyler kept lapping at her folds to guide her through her high before he pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh. He moved up her body, hands stroking their way up her sides until he cupped her warm cheeks to pull her in for a kiss. 

“I love you, darling, and I promise to make up for all the time we’ve lost.” 

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men w/ a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt2

characters: fem!reader x sanemi

warnings: blood, injuries, language, angst

pt. 1 w rengoku and giyuu HERE

SANEMI

this poor man can just never be happy huh

now i find it very hard to believe that sanemi would be with a regular civilian

he’s gotta know that his SO is able to take care of themself

SO

ur a slayer and you guys are paired up on a mission together

there were reports of several low ranking demons being sighted in a town

so Sanemi decides to split up and to meet back up when the sun begins to rise

when you don’t show up at the meeting place he knows something is very very wrong

tears through the town looking for you

and he finds you alright

laying in a pool of your own blood

haori torn to shreds

sword broken

he doesn’t even walk toward you

he’s frozen

his blood has literally gone cold

stands there staring at your broken body until the kakushi arrive

when they do they quickly realize that you are alive and sanemi snatches your limp body from them and SPRINTS to the butterfly mansion

he hands you off to Shinobu who gets to work immediately

he waits there for her to give him an update

and boy does she

you? a demon?

his sweet loving girlfriend is a demon?

it can’t be true. you were laying in the sun.

he tells shinobu this and she says that she’ll have to do some more testing when you wake up

it’s 3 days later when you finally do wake up

and when you do you’re greeted with 2 low ranking slayers pointing their swords at your neck

of course they had to keep you guarded in case you woke up and needed a snack

the human kind

screaming for shinobu she rushes into the room

she sends the slayers out and quickly explains what has happened to you

you ask for sanemi

and your heart breaks when she tells you that he hasn’t visited

not once since she told him what you had become

a few more days pass with shinobu running a bunch of tests

she concludes that you’re somehow immune to the sun and that you don’t have an appetite for humans

and still no sign of sanemi

he hasn’t responded to any of your letters either

when shinobu releases you from her care you head to sanemi’s estate

when you knock on his door he opens, looks at you

and then slams it right back in your face

so you leave

as the weeks pass you throw urself into training with Nezuko who you’ve become friends with

but other than to train you don’t leave your estate

you have locked yourself away from the world

believing that sanemi hates you because of what you are

a monster

it’s not until Genya visits you and sees how pitiful you look that something is done

Genya storms to his brothers home

the ground practically shaking under his steps

Genya literally slaps some sense into Sanemi

like actually slaps the shit outta him

Genya is the only person that could get away with something like that other than you lol

not 10 minutes after genya left your home you get a very hesitant knock on your door

you don’t answer

so Sanemi takes it upon himself to walk in

and he finds you sitting on the floor staring at the wall with a blank look on your face

he sets a gentle hand on your shoulder and you don’t react

you don’t move a muscle

you don’t even blink

it’s as if you’re in a trance

he takes in the dark circles under your eyes

and the frown that looks like it’s permanently stretched across your face

and the guilt hits him full force

kneeling next to you and pulling you into his lap

he buries his face into your hair

and he cries

“i’m so fucking sorry”

“if i didn’t decide to split up this wouldn’t have happened”

“it’s my fucking fault”

and then he feels you pull away from him

his eyes are still closed with tears slipping down his face

and then a small cold hand is wiping the tears from his face

“you left me” you say

and his eyes shoot open

to see you with tears in your eyes

he looks away

“i can’t look at you knowing that this is my fault” he says in between cries

“why are you here now?” you ask

he pulls you back into his chest and say

“Genya told me how you’ve been acting and I can’t stand knowing that you’re unhappy”

you push yourself closer to him and say

“if you want me to be happy, then stay”

he takes a deep breath

“i’ll stay”

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Part 2): Fake It Til You Make It

Paige Bueckers x reader

You go out on a date. Paige gets drunk. Chaos ensues.

Themes: hella angst, KK being a cutie pie

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I’m honestly so overwhelmed by the love on the first part. You guys are amazing! I hope you enjoy the second part, too 😌💓

Part 1 - KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

~

It had been three days since Paige had turned her back to you in a brutal and nonchalant rejection, and you were now spiraling. You would be a fucking liar if you did not admit to the fact that that night had shook you to your core, and you could not stop replaying it in your mind. 

And because you could not help but unabashedly wear your heart on your sleeve, pretty much everyone but Paige could tell.

The morning after, Aubrey had stopped by your apartment with kind, curious eyes, asking you how you were feeling. You had shrugged, worried that if you opened your mouth, everything you felt would come flying out in a candid display of want, and that was something you were trying to avoid. But she had prodded, and it was not long before she was enveloping you in a warm hug as you sobbed. 

You did not know how to survive the weirdness that had developed the previous night; there was never any awkwardness between you and Paige, and now your friendship had a dark cloud resting over it. 

You had pulled away a few moments later, wiping at your eyes and looking at Aubrey, who had a very concerned look on her face. 

“It’ll work itself out,” she promises, and you can’t help but feel cynical. Paige was never going to love you, so how could it possibly work out? 

You nod to appease her, and thank her for checking on you. You spend the rest of the day curled up in bed, texting Scarlett, and trying to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling that was eating away at you.

The next evening, Ice and KK had showed up at your door, trying to entice you to come over to where everyone was hanging out with Paige. You gave them a blank expression, telling them that Paige clearly did not want to see you, and that you were going to be keeping your distance for awhile. Ice had shot you a sympathetic smile, while KK, who normally had a huge grin on her face, looked like someone had kicked her puppy. 

She perks up at the mention of Scarlett, and you tell her that the two of you had planned a date for next weekend, but her smile falls as Ice elbows her in the ribs, shaking her head subtly.

Your eyebrows furrow at Ice’s shifty behavior, but before you can ask, she is already turning to leave, dragging a protesting KK behind her. 

‘Weirdos,’ you think amusedly.

And now, here you were, three days later, an absolute fucking mess. But it was Monday, and while you were able to spend the whole weekend moping, you had shit to do. Luckily, the constant stream of texts from Scarlett was a welcomed distraction, and it almost disguised the pang you felt when your mind cruelly drifted to Paige. 

She had gone live again with KK and Ice, and you watched the clips on tiktok. She laughed alongside her teammates, gallivanting around and showing off, but the light in her eyes was dimmed. And to any other person, she looked so happy, but you could see the circles under her eyes and the way her smile did not quite reach her eyes. 

It almost gave you the tiniest shred of hope, but if there was any chance of you and Paige, you would not even dare to think about it. Because once that idea was fabricated, there was no going back.

~

The rest of the week drags on, and the ache in your chest on account of Paige’s absence grows exponentially. You consider calling off your date and running unabashedly to her door to beg and plead for an explanation. Her silence confuses the hell out of you, and as you wake Friday morning, you are brought to tears again. Your date was this evening, and you already were anticipating needing copious amounts of concealer to cover the dark circles under your eyes, the unforgiving effect of late nights spent pondering over what the fuck had happened between you and the tall blonde. 

You float through the rest of the day, just wanting to get it over with, and as you finish the final touches on your hair, your stomach is in your ass.

Your anxiety spikes at you hear a loud knock on your door, and you reach for the knob, pulling it open cautiously. KK, Ice, and Aubrey are standing in front of you, each adorned with looks of unfathomable pity. 

“Hey guys,” you say wistfully, missing them in Paige’s absence last week. 

“We’re going out tonight. Please come out with us.” Ice nearly begs. You had grown really close to the younger girls, almost acting like their mother, and the distance pained you. 

“You know I’ve got that date,” you reluctantly remind her. As much as you wanted to go, you knew it would be rude as hell to cancel this late. 

Ice pouts, along with KK, who says “C’mon. Will you at least come after?” 

You hesitate, biting your lips as you think about it. “I don’t know,” you trail. “I’ll see how the date goes. Might need a drink,” you say, cracking a smile. 

This seems to appease the girls, and they turn to make their leave, wishing you luck on your date. You go to close the door before you hear KK say a bit too loudly, “Paige is gonna be sad.” 

Fuck. 

~

You meet Scarlett at a nearby restaurant. You wanted to keep the first date casual, and when she had suggested a place that you and Paige often went to together, you thought it might help your nerves. 

Scarlett looked absolutely stunning. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back in glossy waterfalls, and her eyes were a deep green and piercing. She was soft and feminine, and she was about your height. It was odd to be around another girl who you did not have to crane your neck to look up towards, and your mind mercilessly floats back to blue eyes and long, blonde hair.

You remind yourself to stop comparing her to Paige, but your lovelorn subconscious ached at the internal chastising.

The two of you get along great. The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself relaxing as time passes. You take a sip of your drink, when Scarlett suddenly brings up Paige. Your stomach lurches in surprise. 

“Paige is so hot. Is she single?” 

Shock overcomes you, and you are momentarily speechless, trying to find the right words to express how the fuck you were feeling. Her blatant brazenness hits you like a truck, and you feel foolish for thinking this beautiful girl would actually want you. 

“Um yeah, she is,” you mumble, fiddling with the napkin on your lap. 

She straightens up, looking at you eagerly. “She’s single?” 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak without your voice cracking in a traitorous manner. 

“You think you could introduce me? I’ve noticed you’re always hanging around the whole team.” 

You pinch your arm, trying to distract yourself from the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. You take a deep breath, “I need to go to the bathroom,” you whisper. You don’t even give her enough time to answer before you get out of your chair, and run into the restroom for a reprieve. 

Without thinking, you pull out your phone, dialing KK’s number, and she picks up on the first ring. 

“Hey!” She exclaims. “How’s the date goin’? 

A sob escapes your throat. “She just asked me if Paige was single,” you whimper, and KK gasps in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” She whispers, and you let out a watery chuckle. “It was all too damn good to be true.” 

“Fuck,” she sighs, and you can practically feel her anger and empathy through the phone. 

“I tried,” you mumble through the tears. “I give up now. I am so fucking done with this shit." The embarrassment was seeping into your voice, and another sob wracked your body.

“You need to leave,” KK says firmly. “Come out with us tonight, girl!"

“I think I just want to be alone,” you mutter. “But call me if any of you guys need a ride.”

Kk hangs up, threatening Scarlett vehemently before she does so, and you feel slightly better at her reaction. 

Before you exit the bathroom, you fix your makeup, and you take a deep breath, trying to give yourself a pep talk before walking out to leave. 

Scarlett gives a friendly wave as you approach the table, cluelessly, and you grab your purse, pulling out some money to put on the table. 

“Going on a date with me to get to Paige is fucking pathetic,” you spit before spinning on your heel and leaving without another word. 

At least you got the last word in. Now you could go cry in peace. 

By the time you arrive back home, your phone was blowing up with text messages from the team. KK had obviously told them what had happened, and you were grateful for their support, albeit a tiny bit embarrassed. You hoped Paige was still in the dark, and you couldn’t bear to think about her reaction. 

You spend the night laying in bed watching tv and replying to the myriad of drunk text messages and snap chats you receive from the team. You giggled as Jana sent you a video of her dancing with Paige. The blonde looked absolutely gone, and while she looked like she was having a good time, you were slightly worried for her. 

You knew once “Party P” reached her limit, she would need someone to take care of her. That was usually your job. And before you could even think to stop yourself, you are calling Jana, asking her to let you talk to Paige. 

You hear the pounding of the music as Jana gives her the phone, and she answers with a loud exclamation of your name.

Your heart flutters. Maybe she wasn’t mad at you anymore? 

“Hey, P,” you say softly. “Having fun?”

“S’much fun! Wish you were here,” she yells over the music. 

You agree with her. Sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself did you no good. 

“Need a ride home, P?” You ask cautiously. 

“Yeah, baby. Missed you,” she slurs, eliciting a giggle of relief. 

Things were going to be okay. 

~

A few hours later, you walk through the door, arms still wrapped around Paige’s waist, trying desperately to keep her from falling onto the floor. When you had picked her up from the bar, she had been dangerously intoxicated, immediately launching herself into your arms, whispering about how sorry she was and how much she missed you. Her clinginess had yet to fade. 

She sways as she walks, giggling as she does so. You lead her to the couch, where she drops down onto it, pulling you to sit next to her. You do so, gingerly attempting to keep some distance between you. 

But Paige has other ideas. 

Swinging a leg across your lap, she straddles you, staring at you with hooded eyes. You press your body back into the couch, trying to maintain the friendly bounds of friendship. Her breath fans over your face, and you can smell the remnants of the bar. Her tongue was stained pink from the grenadine of the Shirley temples she always drank, as she licked her lips tantalizingly slow. 

Your breath hitches at the proximity, and you reach up to cup her cheek. She leans into your touch, eyes closing momentarily as you stroke the flushed skin. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” you murmur, wishing she was sober. 

She pouts in response, still leaning into you, but you push down your urges to lean in and kiss her. You turn your head, avoiding her gaze, and you shift your hips to try and get off the couch. 

Paige was typically stronger than you, but her blatant drunkenness gives you an edge, and you manage to get out from her hold. 

“C’monnn. Want cuddles,” she whines, looking up at you from the couch. 

You laugh at her fondly and hold out your hand for her to grasp it. “Once you get ready for bed, we can cuddle,” you respond, a blush covering your face and creeping down your neck at her words. 

Paige finally relents, letting you help her off the couch and moving towards the bathroom. She all but falls onto the closed lid of the toilet, and you place a dollop of toothpaste onto her toothbrush and give it to her. She brushes sloppily, leaving a ring of toothpaste around her mouth. Giggling, you wet a washcloth, cleaning her up, and she closes her eyes blissfully as you do so. 

You had never seen her so drunk. And it was mildly concerning. But she was hilarious, and you tried not to read too much into it. 

Once she is finished in the bathroom, Paige stumbles into her bedroom, falling onto the bed with a laugh. She looks up at you, pulling at the tight material of her crop top she still had on. 

“Want this off,” she slurs, and your cheeks turn pink again. You had both changed in front of each other before, but your relationship had changed dramatically. 

“Pleaseee help me,” she pleads, and you let out a sigh. You move directly in front of her, and she raises her arms up as you pull her tiny shirt off. Squatting down, you help take off her pants, leaving her in her boxers and a bra. 

Awkwardly, you avert your eyes, walking towards her dresser and pulling out an oversized shirt. You pull it over her head, and she gazes up at you with a stupid grin, and you poke her nose. 

She lays back down, pulling you down with her, and you scoot next to her. Her grip on you was intense, as if she was terrified you would never return if she let you go. 

It makes you think about the past week, and your heart breaks. 

Sure, she shut you out. But sometimes that’s a simple defense mechanism. So you let her cling to you, secretly basking in her presence and warmth. You had missed her as much as she missed you. 

Brushing her hair away from her face, you mumble out a good night, the emotions of the day making you suddenly weary, and you shut your eyes. 

She responds quietly. Your ears nearly miss it. 

“I’m so in love with you.” 

Your eyes fly open. 

What. The. Fuck.

~

Part 3

AHHH another cliffhanger. Angst is so much fun to write. Do you guys want a part 3?? If so, I'm thinkin' fluff

xoxo katy

[wafflefries13]

Double Trouble (Floyd x Reader)

Summary: A certain pair of twins are found roaming around NRC campus. No, not those ones. (AKA, Floyd and your kids come visit from the future.)

AN: This was supposed to be a cute short fic. Now it's 20 pages and three weeks later.

Warnings: Maybe a little ooc near the end. Kids and mentions of how they're made. AFAB Reader with she/her pronouns.

It was a pretty quiet day at NRC, which meant (Y/N) was waiting with bated breath for something to go terribly wrong. 

“You worry too much!” Grim complained, hanging off her shoulder as they walked along the main thoroughfare past the Great Seven statues. “We finally have a day off! No work from Crowley, no problems with the dorms, no weird stuff popping out. And! Sam had that sale on canned tuna!” Grim pawed at the can he was holding, trying to rip open the pull tab on top. With a frustrated huff, he reluctantly handed it over.  

(Y/N) quickly popped open the can and handed it back to him. Grim gave a small cry of delight as he buried his face in the shredded tuna. “I know, I know,” She said, absentmindedly scratching him behind the ears. “I think I’m just not used to it anymore. It feels like something should happen, you know? Like, they say right before lightning strikes you can feel the static in the air. And be honest, when was the last time we had a real day off?” 

Grim looked up, licking his lips. “Well, last month we - no, wait, that’s when the fairies stole that magestone and had that fashion show. Oh, what about the weekend when we - no, that was Camp Vargas, huh? Uhh, Port Fest was really fun!” 

“We were working at the food stalls the whole time.” (Y/N) grinned at her feline-type companion. “Or at least I was.” 

Grim frowned. “Hey! Taste testing is an important part of selling food! You have to make sure your product is up to snuff!” 

(Y/N) giggled and took the empty can from Grim, putting it in the plastic bag that held the other odds and ends they had picked up from the Mystery Shop. “Of course, we couldn't have done it without you.” She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting to look up at the sky as if to double check it wasn’t about to start falling. “I just think that-” 

“Mama!” 

Both (Y/N) and Grim jumped, the latter falling off the former’s shoulder with a yelp to float in the air. (Y/N) blinked the white sunspots out of her vision looking around for where the exclamation had come from. No sooner had she started her search than a tiny force threw itself against her legs nearly knocking her over. (Y/N) looked down, seeing a wailing child bury his head into her hip, arms clasped around her in an iron-clad grip. 

“Whoa, hey, hey!” (Y/N) said, trying to get her bearings. She pried the child’s grip away just enough for her to kneel down so they could be closer to eye level. The boy had a cherubic face, big eyes and big cheeks, with big tears rolling down them. He had teal-colored (your hair texture) hair. One of his teary eyes was a stormy gray while the other was (your eye color). A set of sharp almost shark-like teeth bit at his quivering bottom lip. 

‘Do Jade and Floyd have a younger brother or something?’ (Y/N) thought. 

She patted the boy's hair down and whipped the tears off his cheeks. He was taking big gulping breaths, trying to calm himself down. “Hey, it’s okay,” She said in what she hoped was a calming voice. “You’re okay. Did you get lost? This can be a big scary place, huh?” 

The boy took another shuddering breath and flung himself in (Y/N)’s arms. She fell back, sitting roughly, as the boy buried his face in her shoulder. 

“Geez, who the heck is this crybaby?” Grim muttered, floating nearby with his paws on his hips. 

“Grim, don’t be rude!” 

“He’s the one who ran into you! That’s rude!” Grim floated a little closer, cocking his head to look at the boy. “You know, he kinda looks like-” 

“Ah!” (Y/N) yelped, pain suddenly rushing through her hand. She had been patting the boy’s hair, trying to help him calm down, when he suddenly turned his head and bit down hard. Jerking her hand back, (Y/N) could see a fresh set of indents forming a perfect semi-circle around the joint of her thumb, two of the points already beading with blood. 

Grim immediately jumped to the defense. “Hey! What’s the big idea?” 

The boy let out another wail, picking himself up and dashing away before (Y/N) could take another breath. “Hey, wait!” She called after him. “It’s okay! Come back!” 

“Okay?!” Grim said as incredulously as he could manage. “He bit you! Look, you’re bleeding!” 

(Y/N) whipped away the blood from her hand on her skirt. “He’s clearly just scared, Grim. It was probably just an instinct. Come on, we better find him before he gets into any trouble.” 

Ignoring Grim’s grumblings, (Y/N) jogged off in the direction the boy had gone. She wondered why a kid so young would be alone in a place like this. He was, what, maybe seven or eight? Not to mention obviously terrified. And… Wait, had he called her mama? (Y/N) faltered a little when she remembered that. Maybe it was like when a kid called someone they were close to auntie or big sister? But why mama? 

“Say that again and I’ll bite your fingers off!” 

(Y/N) was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a child’s voice yelling some… pretty violent threats. She couldn’t imagine the small crying boy from before saying something like that. Was there another kid wandering campus? Was it a family visit day or something? 

(Y/N) turned the corner to see the boy facing off against a group of students. Or, no, it wasn’t the same boy. Sure, he had the same round face, teal hair, and mismatched eyes, but he held himself in a completely different way. Instead of curling in on himself with fear, his shoulders were back, chin up in defiance, his sharp teeth pulled into a scowl, tiny fists balled with rage instead of anxiety. 

(Y/N)  didn’t want to believe it, but the students looked like they were getting ready to square up with a kid. Channeling into her de facto role of campus peacekeeper, she put herself between the kid and the students, saying, “Hey! What’s going on here?” 

One of them jabbed his finger at the boy. “This kid came out of nowhere and started insulting us! Saying our magic was weak!” 

“It is!” The boy said, peering around (Y/N)’s legs. “My papa’s the strongest guy at Night Raven College ever! He could take you all on at once! Tell ‘em, Mama!” 

“Mama?” Another one of the students said. “Prefect, you know this kid?” 

“Uh, not exactly, it’s kind of complicated. Look, he’s just a kid, he didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just all cool down for a second okay?” 

Another student stepped forward, punching his fist into his open hand. “I think he needs to learn some manners. And if his ‘mama’ isn’t going to teach them to him, we will.” 

Instinct kicked in and (Y/N) scooped the boy up in her arms. “Now, just hang on a second, you’re not really going to fight a kid, are you?” 

“Yeah, I can take all you sea cucumbers on!” The boy shouted from her arms. “You look like a sea cucumber too, and their face is their butt!” 

“That’s it!” 

As the student advanced (Y/N) took a step back. Her arms full, her body reacted without thinking about it. Her leg flew up in a high kick, landing squarely in the approaching student’s face. His face bore a perfect shoe print as the young boy in her arms started cackling. (Y/N) took advantage of the momentary stunning and booked it out of there. 

“Grim! Cover!” She yelled. Grim blew a spray of blue flames at the pursuing students, giving the new trio an opportunity to escape relatively unscathed. 

(Y/N) sprinted through the halls, the boy clutched in her arms, Grim flying close behind them. Dodging into an empty classroom, (Y/N) took deep breaths as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. The boy leapt out of her arms, clapping his hands. 

“That was so cool!” He exclaimed. “Uncle Grim was all like ‘Foosh!’ And Mama kicked like ‘bam!’ He had a footprint on his face! Did you see that, Mama? Did you see?” 

(Y/N) held her hand up, trying to order her thoughts for a second before speaking to the overly excited boy. “I saw, I saw. Did you really just go up and start insulting those guys? They have to be twice your age, you could have gotten hurt!” 

The boy pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I know. I’m not supposed to start arguing with people. I’m sorry.” He recited the apology as if he had done it plenty of times before. 

(Y/N) knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I just don’t want you getting hurt, okay? I know you’re probably really tough but you can’t blame me for worrying, you know?” 

The boy grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. He threw himself into (Y/N)’s arms in a big hug. “I know. That’s why I have Papa and Mama! Nothing bad happens when you’re around! Oh!” He gasped as if suddenly remembering something. “Mama, have you seen Cas anywhere? We got split up! I need to be there to fight anyone who tries to mess with him!” 

(Y/N) rubbed his hair. “What did we just say about fighting?” 

Meanwhile, at the Monstro Lounge, Floyd was having one of his rough days. First, he had to break up a fight between a bunch of customers in the Lounge, which might have been fine normally, except they all cowered and begged forgiveness as soon as he got there, so we didn’t even get a chance to squeeze anyone. Then, Azul had started bothering him for his grades in his history of magic class. Like, yeah, it was easy and he could finish the homework no problem, but it was so boring! Why should he have to put effort into something like that, anyway? He was a great mage. Practical exams were a breeze. Why did the paper assignments even matter? Third, Jade kept talking his ear off about some rare new mushroom someone had sent him. Something about how it could let you see into the future, or bring stuff back from the past, or something. Floyd sort of zoned out in the middle of his brother’s explanation. 

And, worst of all, he hadn’t seen his dear Shrimpy all day! Usually, on days off, he’d go track her down, making himself home at Ramshackle dorm, looming over her while she tried to study in the library until she finally paid attention to him and they could go do something fun, or dragging her to his basketball practice so he could show off. But he’d been stuck inside all day. He was starting to get stir crazy. 

All he could think about was wrapping his arms around her soft, plush form and squeezing as hard as he could, until she gasped and made those cute sounds he liked. 

Floyd giggled, kicking his feet. Maybe he could sneak out? Yeah, he could be sneaky when he wanted to! It couldn’t be that hard, right? He was already out of the Monstro Lounge, past the main entrance of the dorm. All he needed to do was go down the tunnel to the mirror chamber and-

“Well, hello there, Floyd.” Busted. Floyd grimaced, turning around to see Jade smiling at him, holding a huge stack of paperwork. “I was looking for you. Professor Trien gave me the assignments you’ve missed. He asked me to make sure you got these done before your next class. You don’t have anything else to do today, right?” 

Floyd groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Jade, I don’t want to do that! What’s even the point, huh? What’s some paper going to prove about casting spells?” 

Jade gave a faux sympathetic look that Floyd could spot from 10 miles away. “Oh? So you did have plans today? Such a shame that you’ll have to cancel them, then.” 

Floyd grit his teeth as Jade shoved the stack of papers into his arms. He briefly considered dropping them all and throwing a punch, if he didn’t know for a fact that Jade was one of the only people who could actually match him blow for blow. Floyd could count on one hand the amount of times they had physically fought with each other, but man, did no one ever suspect that the more calm and collected twin could be just as brutal. 

Jade took Floyd by the elbow, not so gently leading him back into the main dorm, when Floyd froze, ears perking up at a sound. 

Jade frowned. “Floyd, I said-” 

“Shh!” He interrupted, putting a finger to his lips. Floyd cocked his head to the side, trying to hear that sound again. Suddenly, he shoved the papers back at Jade, bounding down the hall and taking the stairs two at a time down to the lobby. 

The main lobby of the Octavinelle dorm took the same decor ques as the Monstro Lounge, or maybe it was the other way around. The lobby was seemingly empty, but Floyd was able to narrow in to the sound he had made out earlier, the hiccuping sound of a kid trying very hard not to cry. 

Floyd stalked over to one of the couches, peering over. A small boy was huddled against the back of the couch, trying his hardest to make himself disappear. 

“Hey, there, Guppy,” Floyd said, leaning over the back of the couch. “What’s with the sad eyes?”

Most children might have been frightened by the sight of a shark-toothed, manic eyed mer looming over them, the moody lighting on the lobby casting haunting shadows over his face. But the boy looked relieved, jumping on and over the couch to latch himself onto Floyd. 

“Papa!” He wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got lost and I couldn’t find Argo, and then I found Mama, but I had big feelings and I bit her! I know I’m not supposed to bite when I have big feelings, but I forgot and it was an accident! And then I ran away from Mama, and I know I shouldn’t have, and I still can’t find Argo, and-and-and-!” 

Before he could say anything else, and before he had the chance to start crying again, Floyd scooped him up under the arms and brought him high in the air. “Wow, you have strong looking teeth!” He praised. “I bet you  can bite real hard! Show me, show me!” Floyd flashed his own sharp-toothed grin, exaggerating gnashing down. The boy sniffled weekly before giving a half-smile. “Hey, come on, you know what I mean. We want a full smile, right, Guppy?” Floyd tossed the boy into the air, catching him and swinging him around so his legs flew out behind him. Despite himself, the boy started giggling. Floyd smiled, booping him on the nose. “There’s those teeth. Look how strong you are!” 

The boy covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle his giggling. He made claws with his hands, baring his teeth. “Grr!” 

Floyd gasped dramatically. “Oh no! This isn’t a guppy at all! It’s a shark! Jade, help me!” Floyd theatrically collapsed to the floor, making sure to keep the boy at arms length above him so he didn’t get hurt. The boy’s mood had fully switched now, laughing and holding his arms out so he could pretend to fly. 

Jade stood in the doorway, smiling softly at his brother’s antics. But, more pressingly, wondering how a small child had found his way into Octavinelle in the first place. And, possibly, why he happened to have a certain family resemblance? 

“Pardon me,” Jade said, stepping forward. “I couldn’t help hear you say ‘Papa?’” 

“And then, I swung on this rope over the river, and it was probably, like a hundred feet high! And I let go and did a huge cannonball and it made the biggest splash ever!” The boy, (Y/N) had found out was named Argonaut, was regaling her and Grim with some pretty fantastical exploits from the last camping  trip he and his brother Caspian had taken with their Uncle Jade. The name drops were getting much too specific, and (Y/N) still needed to find out what happened to Argo’s twin, so she decided a visit to Octavinelle was the best next thing to do. 

“Wow, you did all that?” She asked. Argo walked beside her, holding her hand and swinging it back and forth in a large arc. “A hundred feet is pretty high. You must be brave.” 

“The bravest!” He said with a big sharp-toothed smile. “Papa said I have to look out for Cas because he gets scared real easy. But he knows tons of stuff and he’s really smart, so that’s okay.” He frowned a little. “I can’t read really good, so Cas helps me out. That’s why we’re a team!” 

“You sound like a very good team. We’ll find him soon, okay?” (Y/N) could tell Argo was worried about his brother. Even if he kept putting on a brave face, being lost in a big, strange place like NRC would put any kid on edge, not to mention that Argo had no idea how he or Cas got there in the first place. 

“My tummy felt bubbly like when I had too much soda that one time and there was a big light and then I was here,” He had said when she asked. 

‘More magic nonsense,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. She decided she was never getting used to it. 

Stepping through the mirror to Octavinelle, the air temperature noticeably dropped at least ten degrees. The light took on the cool blue hue of the water surrounding the glass tunnels around the dorm. Its own little pocket dimension, or however the dorms actually worked, was like living inside an intricate aquarium full of coral reefs, darting fish, and cool temperatures to remind the largely mer-based population of home. 

Stepping into the Mostro Lounge’s lobby, (Y/N) turned to Grim and said, “Okay, you stay here with him. I’m going to try and find-” 

“Argo!” 

“Cas!” 

Argo sprinted away, colliding with his double in the middle of the Lounge floor, almost knocking a poor waiter off his feet. The two boys hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other for years instead of the better part of an hour. (Y/N) felt a pull on her heartstrings at their reunion. 

“Cute,” She muttered. She took a step forward. “I-”

“Shrimpy!” 

Before she could get another word out, (Y/N) was tackled in a bear hug. Floyd pinned her arms to her sides, picking her up and swinging her around. Behind the daze of dizziness and the feeling of her ribs creaking under pressure, she couldn’t help but compare her normal greeting from Floyd to the smaller twin’s reuniting. 

“Urk, hello, Floyd. Good to see you too.” 

“Aww, that’s all you got to say? With our kids here and everything?” 

“With our- what?!” (Y/N) squirmed out of Floyd’s hold and stumbled back. 

Floyd pulled the two careening boys close, beaming like a proud father. “Come on, Shrimpy, you met our little leptocephalus, right? I’m Papa and you’re Mama, right, boys?” 

“Yeah, Mama,” Argo said, “Don’t be silly!” 

“Argo,” Cas muttered, tugging his brother’s sleeve. “Something kinda weird happened, you know? Mama and Papa look different. I think this is where they met.” 

“Yeah, Night Raven College, the best school in the world!” Argo threw his arms up in celebration. He turned back to Floyd and (Y/N). “Cas and I are gonna come here too when we get big. We’re going to be great mages just like Papa and Uncle Jade and Uncle Azul and Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce and Uncle Grim and everyone!” 

“Everyone, huh?” (Y/N) said, starting to feel dizzy. 

Cas pouted at his brother. “That’s not what I mean, Argo.” 

“He’s right!” Grim cut in, paws on his hips with a smug look on his face. “Since I am going to be the world’s greatest mage!” 

Floyd poked Grim’s exposed tummy. “You were last on that list, seal.” 

“Mrow!” Grim started flailing his paws at Floyd, who easily kept him at bay with one long arm pushing his head back. 

“Ah, here’s where you all went.” Jade came up to the group. He was gently cradling one of his terrariums that had a strange-looking purple and silver mushroom with a dripping cap nestled inside. 

“Hi, Uncle Jade!” Argo waved. 

“Hello, nephew.” 

“Is that one of your fancy mushrooms, Uncle Jade?” Cas asked, standing on his tiptoes to try and get a better look. Jade held it down so the twins could see. Cas’s eyes sparkled in fascination while Argo screwed up his face in displeasure. 

“It is,” He said. “And I believe this is why you two came to visit us.” 

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked, picking Grim up to rescue him from Floyd’s teasing. 

Jade turned to his brother. “Floyd, do you recognize this?” 

Floyd stuck his tongue out. “Bleh, yeah. You made that nasty tea from that mushroom the other day and tricked me into drinking it.” 

“Tea?” (Y/N) asked. “Oh, was that the tea in the thermos you had the other day?” She frowned. “You tricked me into drinking it too, Floyd. You said it was tasty and so excited to share it with me, then laughed when I started choking on it because it was so bitter.” 

Floyd had picked the boys up, holding one in each arm. “That’s because it’s funny when it’s you, Shrimpy.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Mmhmm, sure.” 

“I apologize that you were roped into my experiment, (Y/N),” Jade said, not looking or sounding apologetic at all. “But I believe it led to an even more fascinating result than I could have hoped for. This,” He held up the terrarium. “Is an oracleum mycoculous, the fortune-telling mushroom. A very rare specimen a fellow mycologist friend of mine sent me from the Shaftlands. He knew I attended NRC and he asked me to study the effects of magic on this particular species.”

“A fortune-telling mushroom?” (Y/N) asked. “Like, if you cut an apple in half the shape of the seeds can tell your future?” 

“It’s a bit more extreme than that. It’s rumored that when prepared in a certain way, eating an oracleum mycoculous can give one insight into future challenges, typically giving a person a strong intuition into choices they should make in the near future. My colleague had heard rumors that making a tea with the mushroom infused with magic could give the person who drinks it clearer visions of the future. I only intended for Floyd to drink it and record any dreams or premonitions he had, but if you drank it as well, Prefect,” he booped Cas on the nose, who giggled while intently studying the mushroom. “It would seem we were able to bring your future children from your future to our present.” 

(Y/N) gulped hard, finally starting to accept what she had been suspecting this whole time. “Our children?” She squeaked. 

Floyd nuzzled the two boys. “Aww, Shrimpy and I had little guppies!” He smiled wickedly. “How many tries do you think it took before we ended up with these fry?” 

(Y/N) felt her face explode with heat. “Floyd! That - I mean - We’re not even together!” 

“If I may,” Jade said. “The visions associated with the oracleum mycoculous are said to only be possibilities. It shows you options for possible futures depending on certain choices made. So perhaps your boys were drawn from one of these possible futures.” 

(Y/N) felt dizzy at ‘your boys.’ “Okay, wait, hang on-” 

“Mama, are you okay?” Cas asked. He reached out to her. (Y/N) felt a thud in her chest and took him from Floyd. 

“I’m okay, Cas,” She said, trying to hide her anxiety from showing on her face. “Just a little confused, is all. I bet your actual parents are really worried about you.” She turned to Jade. “So, how do we fix this?” 

He smiled slyly. “I have no idea. But wouldn’t it be fascinating to find out?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The Leech family, plus (Y/N) and Grim, although, if the current children were to be believed, (Y/N) would be part of the Leech family in the future, stood in front of an annoyed-looking Professor Crewel in the alchemy classroom. 

“Sorry?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I absolutely do not approve of any relationship of this sort. Any pup of mine could do much better.” 

“Aww, Beakfish,” Floyd pouted. “That’s no way to talk to your future son-in-law, is it?” 

Crewel frowned deeper, his grip tightening on his teaching pointer that often doubled as a whip. He obviously didn’t approve of Floyd commenting on his pseudo-adoption of (Y/N). Although he had been in somewhat of a custody battle with Headmage Crowley in that regard. (Y/N) anticipated a negative reaction from her one father figure, but at least there was a higher chance Professor Crewel would be able to get something done in a timely manner, rather than the crow-coded Headmage dramatically lamenting without much work actually being done. 

(Y/N) frowned, feeling her face heat up again. “Sir, we’re not actually together or anything…” 

Floyd draped himself over her shoulders, trapping her in a backward hug. “Aww, my wifey Shrimpy is so mean to me. Why’s your Mama so mean, guppies?” 

“Mama’s not mean!” Argo defended, taking one of her hands. “Mama’s the nicest! She lets me stay up past bedtime and eat tons of ice cream and watch PG-13 stuff on TV!” 

(Y/N) looked down skeptically. “Do I really do that?” 

He smiled slyly. “If I say it’s in the future then would you?” 

“Nice try.” 

“Grandpa,” Cas said, looking up at Crewel with big puppy eyes. “You’re going to help us get back to Mama and Papa, right?” 

Crewel faltered. Not even he was totally immune to the child’s charms. He crossed his arms, huffing in feigned annoyance. “Well, of course we’ll get them home. But after we’re having a serious conversation about your future prospects, pup.” 

“Like I said, we’re not even together,” (Y/N) protested weakly. 

“Jade,” Crewel said, holding out his hand. “The oracleum mycoculous.” 

Jade clutched the terrarium close to his chest. “But it’s my only sample. I made the other one into the tea that Floyd and (Y/N) drank.” 

Crewel raised an eyebrow. “And we are in this situation because of that. I’ll have to use the mushroom to reverse-engineer an antidote to send these two back.” Jade reluctantly handed the mushroom over. “I’ll start research right away. Hopefully, we’ll get some answers soon. In the meantime, I’ll have to entrust these two in your care.” 

“Not a problem,” (Y/N) said. “You guys can stay at Ramshackle with me and Uncle Grim.” (Y/N) caught herself, wondering when it had become so easy to refer to her friends as ‘Uncle’ as her theoretical future children did. 

“Papa’s gonna come to, right?” Argo said. 

“Absolutely not!” Crewel said, griping the terrarium so tightly (Y/N) was afraid it might break. 

Floyd sniffed. “You’re going to tell me I can’t be with my children? You’re going to separate us?” 

“You’re already on thin ice, don’t push your luck.” 

“I’ll take care of it, Professor,” (Y/N) said before tempers could rise any further. “Thanks for helping us with this.” 

“Of course, dear,” Crewel said, his tone softening. He cast a suspicious eye at Floyd, who was getting a bit too close to the alchemy ingredients along the walls, lifting the boys up high so they could get a better look. “Just let me know if you need any help.” 

In the end, Floyd did end up staying at Ramshackle for the night. (Y/N) could hear the three Leech boys loudly playing in the living room while she tried to make something quick for dinner. Macaroni and cheese would probably work. Kids liked mac and cheese, right? Even if they were mer kids from the future. Or, half mer? (Y/N) wondered how that worked, specifically biologically speaking. Did the boys have mer forms like Floyd and Jade did? Did they look more human in some parts and more eel-like in others? It occurred to her that there was still so much basic mer and beast-man biology she had no idea about. But how do you ask that sort of thing without it being awkward about it?

“Mama!” Cas called, poking his head in the kitchen. “Can Argo and I go pick out our rooms?” 

“I call the big one!” Argo yelled, sprinting past his brother up the stairs. 

“Hey, don’t run inside!” (Y/N) warned. 

“Yeah, and you can’t have the big one,” Cas scolded. “That’s Mama and Papa’s room.” 

(Y/N) gulped. A sly smile stretched over Floyd’s face. “Yeah, where is our room? I should go unpack right?” 

(Y/N) shook her head, trying to get rid of certain thoughts while organizing others. She clapped her hands together. “I know. Why don’t we build a pillow fort in the living room? It’ll be like a big sleepover.” She weakly kicked at Floyd’s shin, more out of show than real malice. “Because that’s all this is.” 

“Like when there was that big storm!” Argo said, racing back down the stairs. “And the lights all went out and we had to stay away from the windows so we made that big tent in the middle of the kitchen!” 

(Y/N) smiled fondly at a memory she hadn’t made yet. “Sure, like that.” 

“I know where the biggest pillows are!” Grim called, racing up the stairs. The boys eagerly followed, making plans for their blanket fort that would stretch all across NRC campus. 

Floyd sighed dramatically, draping his full body weight over (Y/N)’s back as she tried to stir the macaroni and cheese. “How’d we get so lucky, huh?” (Y/N) purposefully ignored him, something that didn’t slip Floyd’s attention. “They’ve got my looks, of course, handsome devils. Hey, do you think we live on land or in the sea? Ooh, or we could do both! Like a summer house! I bet I make a ton of money, I got to take care of you and the guppies, right? Aww, you’d be a cute little house wife. I’ll come home after work and you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’, I can’t do your voice too good, it’s higher than mine, you know? But you’ll say ‘Welcome home!’ and I’ll give you a big hug and say ‘I’m home!’ And I’ll bring you and the kids gifts and we’ll play games after dinner, and when they’re all tuckered out and in bed I’ll pick you up and go to our room and I’ll squeeze you real tight and say-” 

“Floyd!” Floyd jumped at (Y/N)’s sudden exclamation. He felt her body tense and then sag in exhaustion. “Just… You shouldn’t say that kind of stuff, you know?”

Floyd blinked. “Huh? Why not, Shrimpy?” 

“You know why.” She didn’t say anything after that. Floyd let the remark sit. After a minute of silence between them, listening to the cheering and shouting from the boys upstairs, (Y/N) finally sighed and said, “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl. Not when you don’t mean it.” 

Floyd chuckled feebly, his heart not in it. He felt torn between squeezing tighter and getting as far away from here as possible. “How do you know if I mean it or not?” 

“Because you’re always like this. You’ve been like this since we’ve met, you’re like this with everyone. And you know-” She cut herself off. She seemed to be deliberating something serious and finally continued. “And you know how I feel about you.” 

Floyd felt his mouth go dry, his heart started thumping a million miles an hour, and his stomach turned into knots. He had to say something. This was one of those moments where you had to say something, right? Of course he knew how she felt, it was pretty obvious to everyone how she felt, Floyd included. And the garden, especially what had happened at the garden. Or, rather, what hadn’t happened.  

Now, had he taken advantage of that little fact over the school year to wring out some more entertainment out of the magicless Prefect? Well, yes, of course he had. Had he meant to have his own feelings grow into something he couldn’t manage over that time? No, but it had happened anyway, sneaking up on him and socking him in the heart like a mantis shrimp when he least expected it. 

He tried to say it without saying it. He tried to show it without saying it. But why couldn’t he just say it? 

“(Y/N),” Floyd started. “I-” 

There was a crash from the living room, accompanied by a shriek and laughter. 

“Papa!” Cas called. “We need help!” 

Whatever seriousness had come over Floyd’s countenance disappeared in the blink of an eye. His signature wide grin cut across his face. If anyone was paying attention, they would notice his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He quickly reached over (Y/N)’s shoulder and stole a spoon, scooping a chunk of the mac and cheese from the pot to shove into his mouth before dashing out into the living room. 

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at his retreating form before turning back to the stove. As she slid the dish of mac and cheese into the oven to finish cooking, she paused. Had Floyd used her real name? 

“Argo!” Cas whispered in the darkness. 

A large quilt hung over their heads, precariously draped between several chairs. Pillows were stacked on all sides making soft walls and they had layered several duvets and couch cushions below to create an improvised mattress. Mama was on the couch, which served as the left-most barrier of their fort, the quilt draping down close to her head with Uncle Grim curled up on her lap. Papa lay sprawled between Cas and Argo, arms and legs out like a starfish. 

“Argo, are you awake?” Cas asked again. 

He heard his brother mumble something before his head popped up from the other side of their dad, hair flattened against one side of his head and sticking out in every direction on the other. “Wassup?” Argo said sleepily. 

“Did you hear what Mama said with Grandpa Crewel?” Argo rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “She said she wasn’t dating Papa!” 

Argo squinted at his brother in the darkness. “But they are. Mama and Papa said they started dating at Night Raven College.” 

“But they’re not yet. Remember what Uncle Jade said? We’re only from one future. What if Mama and Papa don’t start dating in this future?” 

It took Argo a second to register what Cas was suggesting. His eyes went wide and he gasped loudly. Cas shushed him and Papa mumbled in his sleep, finally turning over on his stomach without waking up. 

“You mean we won’t exist?” Argo whispered, panicked. Cas nodded. “What do we do?” 

Cas smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.” 

The next day, amid a bright blue sky painted with thin wispy clouds, Floyd had insisted on visiting Heartslabyul to “Show off his guppies to his best friend, Goldfishy!” (Y/N) sarcastically predicted that this could only end well. 

The group of five had, as anticipated, balked at the two visitors and their explanation for being there.  But the boys had taken to seeing their pseudo-uncles like, well, like merboys to water. They were outside, near the rose garden maze. Argo was practicing some kind of gymnastics, holding Deuce’s hands tightly, walking up his stomach and chest to flip in a practice summersault. Cas munched happily on a cinnamon roll almost as big as his head while watching in fascination as Ace showed off some card tricks. 

“Have you heard anything from Professor Crewel?” Trey asked, setting down a new plate of danishes on the table.  

“Nothing yet,” (Y/N) said, taking a napkin and wiping off some smeared frosting from Cas’s face. “But I assume something like this will take some time to get right.” 

“And you’re…” Trey waved his hand in a circle. “Doing alright?” 

“I’m… Okay.” (Y/N) looked over at the boys now playing tag. “This isn’t the worst magic thing that’s happened since I’ve been here.” 

“That doesn't mean it makes everything easy,” Riddle commented, gazing over the rim of his tea cup. “Especially given your… choice of partner.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware. Floyd’s not too bad, though. He’s pretty good with kids.”

Riddle huffed. “Considering he basically is one himself I’m not entirely surprised.” 

“Hmm? Are you talking about me, Goldfish?” Floyd said, appearing out of nowhere. He grasped the back of Riddle’s chair, pulling back so Riddle was thrown off balance, throwing his arms out to try and reestablish equilibrium. Riddle scowled, face turning red. He looked like he was going to say something, but bit his tongue as Cas and Argo ran up and started digging into the pastries. “It’s not nice to gossip about people.” 

“Yeah,” Argo said, a mouth full of cherry danish. “It’s impolite. You’re the one telling us about manners all the time.” 

“All the time?” Riddle asked.

“When you come over for dinner!” Cas chimed in. “You come over with Papa cause you work together and we all eat and you help me and Argo study!” Argo stuck out his tongue at the last part. 

Riddle went from red to white. “We work together?” 

“Yeah! You and Papa are best friends!” 

(Y/N) was momentarily worried that Riddle was going to faint. 

“And Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce come over all the time! Uncle Deuce is going to teach me how to ride a blast cycle!” Argo said. 

“We’ll revisit that later,” (Y/N) said, ruffling his hair. 

“Can Uncle Trey still teach me how to bake?” Cas asked. “Uncle Cater was going to help me make a Magicam account to show off the stuff we make! Before Argo eats all of it.” 

“Don’t be so good at baking and I won’t be so good at eating,” Argo replied, stuffing another danish in his mouth before darting off, Cas close behind him. 

“I feel dizzy,” Riddle mumbled. 

“Sounds like you’re keeping busy,” Ace said, watching Floyd duck around the hedges with the twins. 

“When am I not?” (Y/N) said. “But at least it sounds like we’re all still close in the future. I like that.” 

“It sounds like you don’t go home, though,” Cater said, mostly to himself. “Back to your world, I mean.” 

(Y/N) hummed. “Maybe home is what you make of it.” 

“Hey, Goldfishy?” 

Riddle growned, shrugging off Floyd’s arm for leaning on him. “What is it, Floyd?” 

Floyd was quiet for a moment, such a rare occurrence that Riddle looked up at him to make sure he had been heard. Floyd was looking out at the rose garden, watching the two children darting around bushes, chasing and being chased by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. (Y/N) stood nearby, watching with a serine look on her face, chiming in every once and a while to make sure the younger boys (and the older ones, too, let’s be honest) were being careful of their surroundings. 

“You know about all that formal romantic stuff right?” Floyd finally asked. 

“I don’t know about ‘romantic.’ What are you getting at?” 

Floyd has a lazy smile on his face. “Do you know how to write a love letter?” 

Riddle felt himself blush. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever exploits you’re up to, romantic or otherwise.” 

“Aw, come on,” Floyd said, poking Riddle’s check, causing Riddle to swat at him like a fly. “(Y/N)’s real nice, you know? She deserves something fancy. And I want-” It was rare that Floyd was at  a loss for words. Riddle looked up at him, seeing determination and focus scrunch his brow as Floyd tried to choose his next words. “I guess I want to prove it to her. That I like her. That I really like her. That I-” Floyd groaned, letting his body go limp and dragging Riddle with him to crash to the lawn. “See? I’m not good at this kind of stuff! Help your best friend out!” 

Riddle yelled, “If you weren’t so cavalier all the time, you’d be able to focus when you had to be serious!” 

Ace stalked through the high hedges of the rose maze, having been called It in the boys’ game of hide-and-seek. “Better watch out,” He called in a sing-song voice. “Uncle Ace is going to find you!” 

“Psst!” Ace whipped around, seeing Cas peeking out from behind a hedge, waving him over. He went over, seeing Cas, Argo, Deuce, and Jade sitting together, huddled under the shade of the maze. Argo had smuggled a few more pastries from breakfast and was tearing them apart to share with the group. 

“Jade?” Ace asked. “What are you doing here?” 

“My dear nephews called me,” He said. 

“Papa let me borrow his phone!” Argo said, holding up the cell, smears of frosting covering the screen. “He doesn't know he let me borrow it, but I’ll give it back before he misses it.” 

Cas put his hands on his hips. Ace had never seen a more serious looking eight-year-old. “That’s still stealing, Argo!” He huffed. “Whatever. We have something super important to talk about!” 

“Yeah!” Argo chimed in. “We need to make sure Mama and Papa kiss!” 

Deuce choked on his cinnamon roll. Jade tilted his head and smiled. 

“Oya?” Jade said. “That’s quite the goal.” 

“We want to get Mama and Papa together!” Cas clarified. “Because they’re in love and stuff! And we want to exist in the future!” 

“I don’t know how much we should be messing with (Y/N)’s love life,” Deuce said. “It feels kind of invasive, you know?” 

“Anyway,” Ace said, crossing his arms. “It’s Floyd’s fault anyway.” 

“Is it?” Jade asked. 

Ace gulped and scooted away a little before continuing. “Well, yeah. Come on, we all know (Y/N) likes Floyd, for some reason, whatever, that’s on her. If Floyd can’t string together 2+2 then that’s on him.” 

“Floyd isn’t exactly subtle with his emotions, either,” Jade said. “He might have issues directing them to a specific conclusion, however.” 

“So, you think he likes (Y/N), too?” Deuce asked. 

“Undeniably.” 

Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, liking is one thing, but we are sort of talking about future marriage and kids here.” He nodded his head at the twins. 

“But Mama and Papa are in love!” Cas insisted. “And the stories Mama tells us says true love conquers all!” 

“That does sound like the sort of sappy thing (Y/N) would say,” Ace relented. 

“I mean,” Deuce said. “We can’t really force anything, right? If they decide they want to get together that’s up to them. But,” He winked at Cas and Argo. “A little push couldn't hurt, right?” 

“Great!” Cas said. “Phase one is complete! Now, we need recruits for phase two!”

It was Day 3 of having Argo and Cas at NRC. (Y/N) was fretting about what to do with the boys while she and Grimm went to class. 

“I can skip class and stay here!” Grim volunteered. 

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N). “Your grades need all the help they can get.” Floyd had offered to spend the day with the boys as well, when he had tried to worm his way into spending another night at Ramshackle. But (Y/N) had insisted he go sleep in his own bed at his own dorm. And it totally had nothing to do with the fact about how her heart had fluttered the morning after his first night there, when he’d woken up with a big yawn, hair a mess, and smiled lazily at her while wishing her a good morning. Nope. Absolutely not. 

“We’ll be okay, Mama!” Cas promised. She had set him and Argo up at the kitchen table with a box of crayons and coloring books she had snagged from the Mystery Shop (Sam really did have everything in stock). “Argo and I will stay right here and not do anything sneaky!” Argo punched his brother’s shoulder. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, even more nervous about leaving the boys in the large dilapidated dorm for an entire school day. 

“Don’t worry about it, Prefect!” Phineas, Ezra, and Gus, the Ramshackle ghosts, said, materializing in the kitchen. “We’ll take care of them.” 

(Y/N) sighed in relief. “Thank you, guys. Boys, you be good for the ghosts while Uncle Grim and I are away, okay?” 

“Yes, Mama,” They both said dutifully. They listened intently for the sound of the front door closing before jumping up and smiling at the ghosts. 

“Okay!” Argo said, clapping his hands. “Phase three of Operation Angelfish is a go!” 

For once, everything seemed to be going as normal. (Y/N) and Grim went to classes, got an update on the return potion from Professor Crewel (Just waiting for it to reduce to a concentrated form), had lunch, went to gym, nothing out of the ordinary. Which, as previously established, put (Y/N) on edge. 

Everything seemed to be normal. Too normal, as far as (Y/N) was concerned. If she didn’t know better (and she did) it would seem like her friends were going out of their way to make it seem like nothing important was going on. There had been at least three times already where (Y/N) had walked up to a group, only for them to immediately stop talking, or very obviously switch topics, all while casting side-eyes at each other. She also couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t seen Floyd all day. Well, maybe out of the corner of her eye, or hearing his voice, but it was always cut off, he was pulled away by his brother, or one of her friends suddenly desperately needed her over there right this second. 

She tried not to take this as some kind of commentary on the possible future relationship the two out of place children suggested. It wasn’t really that bad, was it? Her having feelings for Floyd? She knew Ace, Deuce, and Grim were pretty shocked when she had first confided in them. (“I think I like Floyd. Thought?” “And prayers.”) And while no one had ever said anything explicitly negative, besides the occasional teasing or complaining about her crush, there wasn’t anything actually encouraging either. (Y/N) knew she let Floyd get away with way too much most of the time, and only after interacting realized how moon-eyed she’d been acting. Half the time she thought Floyd might return her feelings, and the other half felt like he was taking advantage of her swayed good graces. It made her head spin and chest ache. 

And now, with Cas and Argo appearing out of nowhere? Saying that they were married in some possible future? Happily married with children? The picture the boys painted was idyllic. The kind of thing (Y/N) had only seen in magazines or at the end of some Jane Austen novel. (Y/N) felt herself blush every time she thought about it, whether it was out of embarrassment or longing, she wasn’t sure. Dinners together, people from NRC coming to visit all the time, (Y/N) bringing traditional holidays from her world to celebrate, a beautiful house by the Coral Sea where the boys would learn to swim in their human and mer forms. 

Was there a lingering darkness in the back of her mind that told her this meant she would never go back to her own world again? Sure, of course. Was there a nagging that this was only a possibility, and her own future still had a chance of being completely different? Yes, definitely. 

Did that stop her from planning how exactly she would formally confess to Floyd once she made sure Cas and Argo got home safely? Not a chance. 

Finally, it was the end of the day. (Y/N) was already planning in her head what to make for dinner when she heard someone call her name. Well, sort of her name. 

“Child of man,” Malleus called, raising a hand in greeting from the quad. 

“Oh, Horton,” She said, jogging over to him. “Hi, I don’t usually see you around now. How are you?” 

Malleus puffed up with pride, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “I’ve been recruited.” 

“Recruited?” 

“By my future nephews. I’m meant to distract you.” 

“Future-? Ah, I see.” (Y/N) had an adorable image flash in her mind of the twins and their doting Uncle Horton. “Any particular reason I’m being distracted?” 

“I’m not meant to say.” 

If they had managed to wrap Malleus into whatever they were doing, (Y/N) thought it couldn’t do that much harm. Why not let the boys have fun while they were still in the past? But just to be sure…

“Grim, you’ll make sure the house doesn't burn down while I’m gone, right?” 

Grim saluted, giving a conspiratorial nod at Malleus before flying away. 

Malleus offered his arm which (Y/N) took while they strolled away. “Should I be worried about what you’re all planning?” She asked. 

He hummed. “Not at all. Now, have I ever told you about the controversy surrounding bat-styled gargoyles versus griffin-styled gargoyles in 15th century cathedral architecture?” 

Floyd was mad. Actually mad. Sure he got annoyed or frustrated every once and awhile, but actually angry? That was a rarity that no one wanted to witness. 

Not only had Shrimpy not let him stay the night at her dorm again, which, fine, it was her house, but he’d been trying to see her all day to no avail. Either someone would pull her away, Jade would appear out of nowhere and stall him until she was gone, or they’d just keep missing each other. It would have been one thing if circumstances kept them apart, coincidences were coincidental after all, and it’s not like they had never gone a day without seeing each other. But this was intentional, pointed and deliberate. He was in a Shrimpy drought and the people around him were building a dam. 

And he couldn’t find his phone anywhere. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight and all the lights were too bright and he wanted to scream. He cut his last few classes and returned to Octavinelle. He had already started tearing off his jacket and shirt as he walked through the mirror portal, leaving clothing in a scattered trail as he marched his way to the decompression chambers that let out into the surrounding water around the dorm. He jumped into the water, the icy chill shocking his human system. He felt his muscles stretch and a comforting pressure encase his body as he shifted back to his mer-eel form, legs melding together as one as he whipped through the water. He shot through the water, scattering fish as he went. He didn’t have the patience to play with any of them today. He was finding he didn’t have the patience for a lot of things. 

She’d try to tell him, once, that she liked him. That maybe she loved him, or that could have been him projecting. (Oh, dear Seven, did he love her?) She’d asked him to meet him in the gardens after school. She said she’d been thinking a lot and there was something extremely important she needed to tell him. He’d poked her, saying she should just tell him now, in the passing period between classes surrounded by curious and eavesdropping classmates. She’d said no, that she still needed to get her thoughts in order. She’d written a letter, she said, that she was holding firmly in her hands, but she thought he would appreciate a more direct approach. So. Garden. After school. She’d be waiting. And then the bell had rung and she’d run off. 

And he’d left her waiting. 

He hadn’t shown up. He’d heard later that she’d been there so long the grounds keepers had to ask her to leave so they could lock up the bio-dome at night. He’d seen her the next morning, eyes red and puffy, huddled with her first year friends who were speaking in low, comforting tones, trying to be affectionate and reassuring in that awkward way teenage boys did. And he had waltzed right over, picking her up and spinning her around. And she hadn’t mentioned the garden. She hadn’t mentioned the letter. She never mentioned any of it again. They fell back into their old rhythm, the one Floyd knew, the one he was comfortable with, the one he could predict. 

He should have gone to the garden. 

Why the hell hadn’t he gone to the garden? 

Floyd burrowed into a reef section of a shallow, tearing at floating kelp with his claws and snapping jaws. He was trashing and writhing, kicking up the loose sand so it created a hazy cloud around him. The sand started getting in his mouth and eyes but he didn’t care. He welcomed the sting of it. 

Argo and Cas being here meant everything was okay, right? If they had kids in the future, it meant everything worked out, right? 

Floyd was mad. He was angry. 

And he didn’t understand why. 

“Floyd!” Floyd looked up, seeing Jade swimming towards him. 

He scowled, turning away to focus on wreaking havoc on the underwater flora. “Not now,” He said through gritted teeth. 

“Floyd, this isn’t the time-” Jade tried to reach out and touch his brother. Before he could make contact, Floyd whipped around with a snarl, swiping at Jade with his sharp claws.Jade quickly jerked out of the way, his surprise quickly melting to aggravation. Jade surged forward, catching Floyd around the stomach and tackling him to the sea floor. Floyd gnashed his teeth, clawing at Jade’s back. “What exactly do you think you’re going to accomplish here?” 

“Get off!” Floyd writhed, wrapping his tail around Jade and spinning to loosen his brother’s grip. Momentarily free, Floyd took the opportunity to lunge at Jade again. 

A fight, good. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to do something physical, something violent, something to get his mind out of whatever stoop he was stuck in, something so he didn’t have to focus on how bad he felt, something where the outcome could be predictable and certain, even if the certainty was pain. That was better than not knowing. That was better than letting feelings he couldn’t control take over his mind. 

He and Jade wrestled, throwing each other into the sand, striking with teeth and claws, whipping with their tails. They didn’t cast any spells, which is the only way each twin was able to understand the severity of their fight, even if it was a subconscious understanding. Fighting was one thing, using magic against each other was another. 

Finally, the two faced off, gills heaving with underwater breaths, scratches and gouges bleeding, eyes locked. Jade pushed back a little, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

“Do you really think this is the best use of your time right now?” He asked.

Floyd snapped his teeth. “Who asked you? What do you know about anything, anyway?” 

“I know (Y/N) tried to confess to you.” 

Floyd froze, then felt another surge of anger bubble under his skin. Why did Jade know? What right did he have to know (Y/N)’s inner thoughts when Floyd himself couldn’t even have them? 

“She told me,” Jade continued. “Or, I gathered from context clues. She asked if you had ever dated anyone back home, what sort of person you liked. She wanted to know if you prefer meeting in person to discuss important things or if she should leave a letter. Not that she really needed to discuss much. I would say it’s been rather obvious to anyone paying attention for the last few months. The real issue, I find, is why you haven’t confessed yourself.” 

Floyd yelled, grappling Jade and sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Jade bit his lip to keep from crying out. He took advantage of the grapple to twist and pull Floyd into a headlock. 

“I went there,” Jade continued through gritted teeth. “I went to the garden. I was planning on spying, I thought it’d be fun. But you never showed up. I kept waiting, and so did she, and you never appeared. Why in all of the deep blue sea didn’t you come?” 

“I don’t know!” Floyd confessed. He went limp in Jade’s grasp, all the fight going out of him. He let out a choked cry, something Jade hadn’t heard from his brother in who knows how long. “I don’t know, I don’t know!” 

Floyd sank to the rocky coral outcropping, collapsing. Jade observed him for a moment. He swam down, curling up next to Floyd. 

“She still has feelings for you, you know.” 

Floyd groaned deep in his chest. “I can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” 

“Can’t tell her. I can’t hear her say it. What happens after that, huh? What happens after we both say it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s the problem! How do I know what to do? Do I change, does she? And what if neither of us do? I can’t risk it, I can’t lose her!” 

“You’re losing her anyway.” 

Floyd felt his anger flash again and lashed out with a claw which Jade easily dodged. The fight drained out of him again and he flopped back down. 

Jade regarded Floyd. When he determined that Floyd wasn’t about to fly off the handle again, he came closer. “Don’t you think it’s selfish, keeping your feelings all to yourself?” 

“Eels are cowards,” Floyd mumbled.

“But humans are brave.” Floyd peaked up at Jade. “They can’t survive long in water, they don’t have the heightened senses of beastmean, nor the longevity of fairies. They don’t have claws or teeth or endless magic supplies. But they’re brave and stubborn. That’s how they’ve lasted so long, become such a force in the world. And there’s a certain human we know that is exemplary in that regard.” 

Floyd hummed. “She’s amazing. She’s pretty and smart and clever and strong and… What if I mess up, Jade?” 

Jade patted Floyd’s back. “Then I’m sure she’ll let you know and you’ll figure it out together. Relationships require two people, after all.” 

“You think she’ll forgive me? From before?” 

“If you apologize, I’m sure she will. And, brother dear, I have the perfect setting for such an apology. Come on, we need to get you fitted with your suit. And maybe some stitches there above your eye.” 

“Ow!” (Y/N) cried as she banged her shin for the third time. 

“Sorry, Mama!” Argo said, pulling her hand to maneuver her around the low table. 

“It’s fine. Are you sure I have to keep this blindfold on?” She reached up for it. 

“No!” Cas gasped. “It’s a surprise!” 

(Y/N) sighed and let herself be pulled along, gritting her teeth when she stubbed her toe on the side of a chair. 

After Malleus had brought her back to Ramshackle after their walk and gargoyle lecture, she had immediately been set upon by the boys who kept insisting that she absolutely not look anywhere near the backyard. Almost immediately after walking in the door, Vil appeared seemingly out of nowhere and shoved a garment bag in her hands. The dress was beautiful, of course, and probably worth more than she could ever afford, in her old world or this one. It seemed like almost everyone she knew was bustling around the dorm, being extremely secretive. Finally, her boys had come to get her, giving her a blindfold to wear and gingerly escorting her down stairs. 

‘Her boys.’ When exactly had she started thinking of them like that? 

(Y/N) felt a cool breeze as she stepped outside. She could feel the boys walking her up the hill in the backyard, stopping suddenly. 

“Okay, Mama,” Cas said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “You can look now!” 

(Y/N) removed the blindfold and gasped at what she saw. The large oak tree in the back dripped with tiny string lights and paper lanterns. Fireflies gently bobbed around in the oncoming twilight. A small table, (Y/N) recognized it from the Heartslabyul rose garden, had been set up underneath the glowing bows, decorated with a candelabra. 

“Oh, boys,” (Y/N) said, taking each of their hands. “This is beautiful. Is this what you’ve been up to all day?” 

“Mostly!” Argo said. 

“Yup, now it’s phase 4!” Cas said. 

“Phase 4?” (Y/N) asked. The boys just dragged her over to the table and pulled out the chair for her. They made to rush away before Argo hastily corrected himself and pulled out a wireless speaker from behind the tree trunk. He took out what suspiciously looked like Floyd’s phone, sinking it up to the speaker. Soon, it began to play a string quartet. Argo smiled triumphantly, he and Cas taking hands and rushing back to the dorm. 

(Y/N) smoothed her dress and sat down, watching the fireflies and sunset with the calming music in the background. There was a tea set on the table and she poured a cup. She paused for a moment before filling up the cup across from her as well. As she sipped the tea, she saw the silhouettes of Cas and Argo dragged someone around the side of the dorm. In the low light, she couldn’t exactly tell who it was, but based on the lanky form and fond body language, she guessed it was Floyd. She sighed inwardly, half excited to see him and half dreading it, especially in such a romantic location. So this way the boys’ real plan. She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. 

She stood up as Floyd came closer, stepping into the circle of light around the tree, ready to disperse whatever plot the boys had set up, before gasping. “Floyd! What happened?” Although Floyd was wearing a nice suit and tie, he had a black eye, a split lip, and a cut above one of his eyebrows that looked like it had been hastily patched with stitches. She rushed to him, her hands hovering around him. “Are you okay? Should we go to the infirmary? Who did those stitches - why do you have stitches!” She frowned. “Honestly, I keep telling you to stop getting into fights! One day you’re going to fight someone stronger than you and then where will we be? Look at you, you’re still bleeding!” 

Floyd only grinned, leaning down so his forehead touched hers. “Shrimpy’s worried about me.” 

She weakly pushed him off. “Of course I’m worried. Gosh, did the boys see you like this?” 

Before she could take a step away, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in a tight hug. “I like when you’re worried about me.” 

“Is that why you keep doing stupid stuff?” 

Floyd hummed. “Maybe. If it makes you pay attention to me, then it’s worth it, right?” 

(Y/N) didn’t know how to reply. She felt heat building up in her checks, a mixture of embarrassment and longing and something else she couldn’t quite place. 

“Floyd, I-” “I like you, (Y/N).” She froze at his words. “I couldn’t say it before. I mean, I could, but I didn’t. And that’s my fault. It was bad, I was bad, I still am bad. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just - You’re so much of everything. And I want that everything. I want us to share it, forever. I want to see you all the time because you make me so happy and I want to make you just as happy. I think we can be, together. I promise I’ll try, really hard. And I-” Floyd sniffed as (Y/N) pulled back. His face was flushed, tears dotting his lashes. He was trying to keep up his usual confidant grin, but it crumpled at the edges. “I’m sorry, Shrimpy. I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I acted like nothing was wrong, that nothing happened. I love you, you know that right? You know it now. I love you.” 

“Oh, Floyd,” She muttered, brushing his hair away from his face. “If I kiss you now, is your lip going to start bleeding again?” 

Floyd broke out into a real smile, letting out a choked laugh. He crushed (Y/N) to him, picking her up and spinning her around. He peppered kisses on her face while she giggled too. She took his face in her hands, gently lowering him closer and kissing him. 

Back at the dorm, spying out the windows, Cas and Argo high fived. 

The next morning was bright and sunny and (Y/N) couldn’t help but think it was all for her. 

Cas and Argo were making their rounds in the quad, saying goodbye to their uncles, many of whom grew misty eyed and the imminent departure. Floyd was squeezing her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. 

“Alright, pups, everyone settle down,” Professor Crewel called, waving everyone over. He took out a paper bag and shook out two dark purple oval candies, handing one to each boy. “Here, this will get you back to your time in the blink of an eye.” He patted each of their heads. “Be good, pups.” 

The two took the candies and rushed over to Floyd and (Y/N). Floyd crouched down and picked each boy one at a time, throwing them in the air and catching them before repeating with the other. (Y/N) pulled them both into a tight hug, kissing the tops of their heads. 

“I can’t wait to meet you boys for the first time,” She said. 

“We’ll see you soon, Mama!” Argo said. 

“Mama,” Cas said. “You’re going to take care of Papa, right?” 

(Y/N) laughed as Floyd frowned. “Hey, shouldn't I be the one taking care of Mama?” 

Cas frowned, a perfect mirror of his father. “Only kinda. Mama’s the one who does all the taking care of.” 

“Well, when you get home, tell your Papa and he promised you ice cream.” 

(Y/N) quickly whipped away the tears that were forming in her eyes. She cleared her throat to try and speak without faltering. “Speaking of, I’m sure your Mama and Papa are worried about you. I think it’s time to head off. But one more hug.” They crashed back into her open arms. Floyd threw his arms around all of them, squeezing tight. 

Finally, the Cas and Argo each took the others hand, popping the candy in their mouth. Cas screwed up his face and Argo stuck out his tongue at the bitter taste of it. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, comparing their reaction to hers when Floyd had first gotten her to drink the oracleum mycoculous tea. It seemed there was no good way to mask that taste. 

Before their eyes, the twins started to fade out, as if they had been projections. They stared in fascination at their disappearing bodies. They looked up and waved and everyone waved back. Eventually, they slipped out of view. The group waited another moment, giving some sort of solemn respect to the family they would meet again in the future before dispersing. 

“So,” Floyd, leaning down to speak quietly to (Y/N). “You never did answer me, Shrimpy.” 

“Answer what?” 

He grinned deviously and (Y/N) immediately regretted asking. “How many times you think it took before we got them.”

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

❥ Bakugou / Fem Reader / Todoroki

❥ Everyone involved in this is 18+/aged up.

Warnings; angst/comfort, cursing, vaginal sex, anal sex (double penetration), pussy eating, blow jobs, squirting

Note; This is my first time writing for this pairing and I’ve wanted to for so long.

It’s normal when you and Katsuki argue. It’s normal when Shouto and Katsuki argue. What isn’t normal, are the fights you and Shouto get into.

It only occurs once in a while, but when it does — you end the night miserably with a lump in your throat and an icy chill that shreds and rearranges your stomach.

Unfortunately, despite doing your damndest to avoid arguing with Shouto, this past week has had you itching to chew him out.

Shouto’s assured you and Katsuki at least three times this week that he was going to be home from work to eat dinner with you. Yet each time he’s shown up so late that Katsuki has put the leftovers in the fridge and you two went to sleep.

And this is not even remotely the first time you’ve dealt with this.

It’s not as if you don’t all understand that being a hero will never be a job where you have the privilege of scheduled hours. Shit happens, and it happens often. And Shouto’s not the only one who gets the short end of the stick.

This wouldn’t even get under your skin so badly if he at least could’ve let either of you know he wasn’t going to make it. He hasn’t even done that. He’s been letting his phone die and not bothering to charge it.

“Pick up the fucking phone, Shouto.” You know you have a bitchy attitude, but you’re speaking to his voicemail again.

You exhale a drawn out sigh through your nose and shift in place to unstick your thighs from the leather material of the bar stool you’re currently occupying.

Your kitchen smells amazing because of Katsuki’s cooking and you get even more pissed about all the effort the blonde is putting into this just for Shouto to disregard it.

You set your phone down too harshly, not realizing until you hear an ominous crack of glass that makes you wince. Gingerly you pick it back up and only notice a few hairline cracks, thank god.

“I’m not buying you another new fucking phone,” Katsuki pipes up, sounding much too amused from where he’s stirring something at the stove.

You glare at his back, scoffing in response.

“Well if a certain someone would answer their damn phone I wouldn’t be breaking this one!”

Katsuki is aware of how upset this situation has been making you. He’s been encouraging you not to worry about it because “Shouto has always been an air-headed idiot.” You chastise the blonde when he makes those remarks but you somewhat agree.

He’s so intelligent when it comes to hero work, but relationships have always been….. alien to him.

“So strawberry shortcake’s blowing us off again?” Katsuki asks with no small amount of annoyance.

Your gaze flickers to the blonde’s broad back, studying the way his muscles roll and flex along the edges of his black tank top as he stirs fried rice.

Your brows pull together, scowling as you drum your fingers on the counter top.

“I guess so,” you murmur, sounding and feeling defeated. The sting in your eyes that signals oncoming tears is no surprise. Shouto’s recent behavior has been weighing heavily on your heart. You sniffle as quietly as you can.

Does he even want to be with us anymore?? Does he love me?

You realize you may be overreacting but you can’t help it.

Katsuki has got to be a mind reader — or he most likely heard you sniffling. His palms start crackling as he notices you’re about to cry. He pauses, turning the stove off just to be cautious, and wipes the sweat from his hands on his sweatpants.

He pivots in place and strides over to you with a scowl on his face, taking in the steady stream of tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

“Look at me, idiot,” he says affectionately, crossing his arms over his chest as he comes to a stop. You stubbornly refuse to turn your chair his direction.

He makes a frustrated noise and grips the back of your chair, physically swiveling you to face him. He steps in between your thighs and you tilt your head downwards, still refusing to meet his gaze. You obnoxiously sniffle. Katsuki scoffs, reaching a hand out to grip your chin.

His thumb and pointer fingers cradle your chin, gently guiding your head up. His sharp expression softens as scarlet eyes flit across your face, taking in how heartbroken you truly look.

A new wave of tears track down your cheeks, a small sob escaping and shaking your shoulders.

“I — I just don’t understand Kat. Why doesn’t Shouto want to come home?” You cry, voice cracking pitifully. You use the backs of his hands to wipe away the never ending tears.

Katsuki can’t stand seeing you this way. He wraps his arms around your head and shoves your face into his chest, smoothing a hand over your upper back in hopes of providing some sort of comfort.

Eagerly, you return his embrace. The warmth of his skin bleeding through the material of his tank top as it catches your sorrow.

“Baby,” he whispers lowly, soothingly. “Shouto‘s not doing this on purpose. I know you know that. His cocksucker of a father is working him to the bone.”

It does little to quell the ache in your chest even if he’s right.

You don’t respond, the build up of frustration and grief from the past couple weeks spilling out of you and onto Katsuki. He kisses the top of your head, resting his cheek there and allowing you to cry until you start to get lightheaded and empty.

Eventually your sobbing subsides and you release the death grip you had on your boyfriend’s shirt. He frees you as you lean backwards slightly, staring up at him with a pout. Your eyes are swollen and heavy, but you feel lighter.

Katsuki gives you a half smile, using his thumbs to tenderly wipe away the excess tears under your eyes.

“I’ll still kick his ass if you want,” Katsuki jokes halfheartedly. You laugh softly, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards involuntarily.

He grins fully at you, bending down to press your foreheads together. He places his big hands on your thighs and plants a chaste kiss on your lips.

You respond enthusiastically, sliding your hands up his chest and slipping them around his neck as your lips connect over and over.

He smiles into the kiss and tilts his head minutely, biting playfully on your bottom lip until you open up for him. The glide of his tongue against yours has arousal burning desperately in your lower belly.

You let out a breathy moan and Katsuki’s fingers tighten on your legs before he breaks the rapidly blazing kiss.

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, catching a whiff of fried rice that reminds you Katsuki had been cooking. The blonde retreats to his full height.

“Kat,” you say reluctantly, grabbing his attention. “I’m not sure I can eat anything right now. I just want to go to bed.” You chew on your bottom lip, fiddling with your thumbs.

He frames your face with his hands, a smirk worming its way onto his mouth.

“Then let me take your ass to bed so you can be my pillow princess for the night,” he says confidently, winking when your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

A pleasant flush travels through your entire body, cheeks feverish as you let out a startled laugh.

Once you nod in agreement Katsuki slips his hands under your thighs and hefts you up out of your seat. You laugh brightly, embracing his waist with your legs and holding onto his neck.

Within a few moments Katsuki’s got you both naked and he’s slipping under the sheets of your bed. Your legs part for him easily, tugging him up and over you until he fits like a puzzle.

When his cock pushes inside of you it’s everything you weren’t aware you needed that night. He rolls his hips sweet and slow until your spine’s bowing off the mattress and you’re crying out his name, being sure to leave scratches on his back.

Later on Katsuki ventures back to the kitchen to put away the food from earlier. He decides he’s going to wait for the dumbass and give him a piece of his mind when he returns home.

Katsuki waits…and waits until he’s sitting up straight and nodding off on the couch.

He uses his fists to rub his eyes and checks the time on his phone only to see that it’s past midnight. Katsuki’s temper flares and he swiftly has to remove his hands from the couch cushions for fear of blasting it to smithereens.

He leaves Shouto a colorful message on a sticky note and promptly goes back to the warmth of the bed and snuggles into your chest until he passes out.

It’s after 1:00 am when a chilly arm circles your waist and tugs you back into a toned chest. Your brain is sluggish in your barely there consciousness but you’re able to recognize that it’s Shouto’s presence behind you. Katsuki’s on your other side, leaving you in the middle.

It’s become somewhat of a habit between the three of you to welcome each other with a few kisses when someone arrives home late. So when you don’t flip over you’re sure Shouto’s confused.

Your chest hurts when you think about facing your boyfriend. Ignoring him is probably hurting him, yet you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

When it’s clear that you won’t be speaking to him as you pull the blanket up over your shoulder, Shouto tightens his arm and tickles the nape of your neck with a soft exhale.

You don’t speak to Shouto for about two days. The man tries to talk to you, truly he does, but you keep him at arms length.

The first night you return home from patrol, battered and bruised with a headache from hell as you stumble in the front door.

You’d been messaging Katsuki throughout the day, the blonde hero keeping you up to date on Shouto.

He did fail to mention they must’ve had their own argument about the situation, if the recently acquired burn marks on the wall have anything to say about it.

When you make it to your bedroom, it seems they must’ve made up. They’re entangled and naked in the sheets so that solves that mystery. The soft light from the bathroom night illuminates them enough that you can see Shouto’s head pillowed on his chest.

Your stomach drops at the sight, the dull ache of betrayal surprising you as it tries to carve a hole in your chest.

At any other time, you’d love seeing them together. However you and Shouto are still caught up in this ridiculous fight that seems to be more one sided than anything.

With a quiet groan you move into the bathroom, stripping off your filthy clothing and stepping into the shower.

You stand under the scalding water and scrub off the layer of grime you picked up during your shift. As you run the wash cloth over your skin you imagine you’re chipping at the depressing emotions you’re riddled with as well, willing them to go down the drain.

Once you’ve managed to get clean and dressed in one of Katsuki’s oversized T-shirt’s, you find yourself standing unsettled at the edge of your bed. Staring as you contemplate what to do.

An uneasy sensation worms under your skin, lurking as you weigh the options of staying or not. Ultimately you decide to go sleep on the couch.

You make haste with quiet footsteps until Shouto murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep. Your pulse stutters as you still, waiting to see what he does.

He says nothing more and you release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding, sneaking out to the living room.

You settle in on the couch, curling up in a ball underneath multiple throw blankets. Your chest squeezes while you wrestle with your mind until you convince yourself you have to reconcile with Shouto tomorrow.

Shouto wakes the next morning sporting a gray cloud overhead when his alarm goes off. He’s staring intensely at Katsuki’s side profile, admiring how handsome he is. The breeze from the fan brushes over his back and his brows scrunch together in confusion at the absence of your body heat.

He rolls over, eyes widening as he begins to panic when he doesn’t see you there.

Shouto’s heart jumps to his throat as he tumbles out of bed, snagging the blanket around his ankle and jostling Katsuki awake as he goes.

“Oi, idiot! What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki rasps at an ear splitting volume. He sits up ramrod straight and wears a furious scowl. His gaze narrows as it lands on Shouto who freezes under the heavy glare.

Shouto says your name, glancing at the door as he fidgets in place.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she in bed?” Shouto’s low voice asks, an anxious edge marring it.

Katsuki’s lip curls and his cheeks flush a rosy pink as he rises from the bed. It forces Shouto to take a step back in bewilderment as he’s met with the blonde’s rage.

“You idiot,” Katsuki snarls venomously, shoving a finger into his boyfriend’s chest. “She is here, but she’s sleeping on the couch. You’ve been fucking us off as if we mean nothing to you for the past two weeks and you wonder why she doesn’t want to be in the same bed as you?” Katsuki laughs meanly, pushing Shouto out of his pathway with a lone finger before moving to his dresser. “I thought you were smarter than that,” he sneers, chin raising defiantly.

“I didn’t —,”

Katsuki cuts Shouto off, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his fists curl.

“Don’t you even fucking dare say you didn’t mean to. I don’t give a shit. Fix it Shouto, or I’ll take you on in a fight you won’t win.”

He slams the door to their bathroom shut so hard the frame rattles.

Shouto sinks down onto the edge of the mattress as if Katsuki knocked his knees out from under him. He was too stunned to even get a word in edgewise.

Shouto… knew you were upset, but he wasn’t aware it was this bad.

He stands on wobbly legs, stomach rolling painfully as he robotically gets ready for his shift. He can’t recall the last time he felt so numb.

The second you hear Shouto leave is when you finally open your eyes. You had heard the pair fighting and pretended to be asleep, not wanting a blow out fight to erupt between the three of you.

You feel so guilty, hoping and praying Shouto doesn’t get distracted by this entire ordeal while he’s out on patrol.

This fight isn’t worth risking his life over.

You have to make up with him tonight, it’s gone on far too long.

Shouto’s one of your soulmates, and you’ve loved every second you’ve had the privilege of being a part of his life.

Your footsteps are quiet as you shuffle to your now deserted bed, flopping down and crawling under the covers to wait for Katsuki’s return.

It’s not too late into the evening when the front door finally opens. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for the conversation the three of you would be having tonight.

You’d been nervously biting your nails and lounging on the couch with your feet tucked under you while Katsuki was, to nobody’s surprise, cooking something once again.

You spring out of your seat as Shouto locks the front door, striding to stand a few feet in front of him with a sheepish smile.

His expressions brightens like the sun when he sees you and you don’t even try to stop the grin that tugs at your lips.

In the next moment he’s hugging you, burying his face into your neck as he lifts you off the floor by your waist. Relief unfurls warmly behind your rib cage as you return the affectionate embrace, securing your legs around his waist.

He smells clean as he always does, something similar to a note of cinnamon tickling your nose in the addictive cologne that he wears.

“I’m sorry,” Shouto whispers tenderly, shifting so his forehead rests against your temple when he speaks. He noses at your cheek when you nod, repeating the same phrase so he knows you are too.

“You fuckers just gonna stand here all night?” Katsuki complains with no real heat behind it. You didn’t even hear him approach. You laugh, unwinding yourself from Shouto as he places you back on your feet.

Katsuki’s standing with his hands on his hips, wearing a soft smile that makes him look five years younger.

You tease him and Shouto joins in until the blonde is blushing and cursing you both to hell.

After what feels like the longest conversation of your life, you find yourself on your knees and elbows between Katsuki’s spread thighs. Your ass is high in the air for Shouto who’s settled behind you.

Katsuki’s rock hard, propped up by a couple pillows. He strokes his cock leisurely, biting the tip of his tongue as he leers down at you. You wink up at him and he grins coyly.

Shouto grips your ass and spreads you open. The cool air on your pussy makes your breath hitch.

You moan lowly, nails sinking into Katsuki’s thighs and forehead coming to rest on the blonde’s belly when Shouto’s tongue flicks at your clit. Dragging it up through your lips and swirling it over your rim.

You push yourself up, bracing a hand on either side of Katsuki’s hips as Shouto teases your rim with a slick finger. The blonde smirks when your jaw drops.

“Look at you baby girl, all fucked out and Sho’s barely touched your pussy,” he coos meanly, fisting his cock a little faster.

You attempt to respond but Shouto’s a shit who chooses that exact moment to slide a finger in your ass all the way to his knuckle.

“Shouto,” you choke out. “Keep going, give me another finger,” you plead, rocking back towards him. Shouto obeys, pushing in a second finger with ease and you whine. Your head drops between your shoulders and it gives you the view of Katsuki’s cock twitching in his grip when you let out more noises.

Katsuki notices your stare.

“Yeah? Wanna suck on my cock baby?” Katsuki asks with a lilt to his voice as though he’s offering someone an irresistible treat, cradling your cheek with his free hand and rubbing under your eye with his thumb.

“I do,” you confirm with an eager nod. You bend down to do just that but Katsuki’s shakes his head with a tsk and halts you with a hand around your throat. You glance up at him confused. He ignores you and levels Shouto with a look.

“Whatcha think, Shouto? Should I let the princess suck me off till you stretch her out?”

Shouto keeps thrusting his fingers, scissoring them a bit as he hums in agreement.

“I think so, yes,” Shouto affirms, something playful in his tone.

Katsuki grins wolfishly at you, placing a hand on the back of your head and pushing until you open your mouth and swallow half the cock pointed up at you in one go. You moan at the feel of his thick shaft on your tongue, bobbing your head slowly and chasing Katsuki when his hips jerk upwards.

“Jesus Christ baby, you have a velvet mouth,” Katsuki praises, husky moans filling the air.

You let Katsuki distract you as Shouto slips a third finger inside your ass, placing his thumb on your clit and rubbing tight circles to balance out the pain and pleasure.

Only a couple minutes later and Katsuki is starting to fidget in place.

“Think you can deep throat me?” Katsuki pants, eyelids fluttering as he waits for your answer. You hum which is the best you can do to say yes, even if your jaw is aching.

The pressure on the back of your skull increases and you relax your throat as his tip pushes past the muscle. You panic only briefly when your airway is cutoff, but hearing the way Katsuki cries out with a high pitched moan as he fills out your throat is worth it. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather at your lash line.

“You’re so goddamn hot. Look at those pretty lips stretched so filthy around me. You love sucking cock don’t you?” Katsuki taunts, head tilting backwards with a breathy moan when you whine in response.

He keeps you choking on his dick with a firm hold for at least ten seconds. Until you’re starting to claw at his thighs, until you’re starting to resist, and then suddenly you’re being pulled off him. Your lungs burn, coughing and swallowing air as Shouto takes his fingers from you.

You’re spun around and sat on Katsuki’s lap faster than you can blink as the blonde sits up straighter, saliva covered cock sliding between your ass. Your eyes open wide as you meet Shouto’s yearning mismatched gaze and he gives you a half smile.

Katsuki bends his knees and plants his feet so you’re cradled in his lap, thrusting so his cock catches briefly on your rim before sliding upwards.

“I want you baby,” Shouto tells you sincerely, running his knuckles over your cheekbone. You grin adoringly at him in return, lids fluttering as Katsuki rolls his hips against you once more.

“Someone’s impatient,” you try to tease, but it comes out partially strangled. “I want you too Shouto.”

Katsuki snorts behind you, patting your ass to get you to rise up a bit. You do so automatically.

“Well fuck me then, right?” Katsuki teases as he grips his shaft and lines himself up with you. Shouto rolls his eyes playfully.

“Well she is about to sit on your cock,” Shouto deadpans. You try to cover a laugh by slapping a hand over your mouth.

“You’re a fucking comedian aren’t ya Sho?” Katsuki says with a strained voice as you start to sink down on him. You gasp loudly when he pushes past your tight, slick rim and he moans.

Shouto stays silent, keeping his eyes locked with yours while you take in the blonde’s cock until you’re sitting completely in his lap. It aches, a dull throb as you shift around to get comfortable. Desperate for the pain to go away you start to rise up and down on the cock splitting you open, bracing your weight on Katsuki’s knees.

Shouto squeezes the base of his shaft, twitching in his own grip because the sight of you riding Katsuki, tits bouncing inches from his face is making him want to cum. Now.

The blonde holds your hips, biceps flexing as he helps you move, impatiently working for the pleasure you know is near by. Soon enough, the pain starts to fade and a warm shiver takes it place at the base of your spine, slithering through your veins unabashedly.

You stare at Shouto with half lidded eyes, studying the way his skin flushes as he watches the two of you silently, fisting his cock teasingly. The other hero shuffles closer, leaning forward as you begin slowing to a crawling pace when he gets in your personal space. Katsuki, surprisingly, holds his tongue when you do.

Shouto kisses you then, slightly chapped lips meeting yours. You bring your arms up to play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, scratching at his scalp and humming against his mouth.

When you can’t breathe any longer you break away, tongue poking out to run over your bottom lip. Shouto peers over your shoulder at Katsuki.

“Can I be inside her now?” He asks restlessly and you practically hear Katsuki’s eye roll.

“So fucking needy,” Katsuki mutters. “Lean back on my chest baby, I’m gonna cum if we stay like this anyways.”

You press one more kiss to Shouto’s mouth and recline until your back hits a solid, warm chest. Katsuki grips under your knees and pulls your thighs back towards you.

You steady yourself by hanging onto to the blonde’s forearms, biting your tongue when Shouto crawls forward. He settles on his knees, stroking his cock as he tilts his head and gawks at the place Katsuki disappears inside you. Gaze flickering over your pussy on display just for him.

“C’mon Shouto, what’re you waiting for?” You encourage him, the anticipation racing down your spine. You involuntarily clench around Katsuki and the blonde hisses when he speaks.

“God, Shouto hurry the fuck up.”

Shouto does hurry the fuck up.

He steadies his cock head against your pussy and begins a leisure press, sliding in in in until you’re completely filled.

They both allow you time to adjust, whispering praise and toe curling, filthy sweet nothings into your ears.

Katsuki is unable to move in his position underneath you both, so Shouto takes control. He helps the blonde support your thighs and essentially fucks you both with deliberate and brain melting thrusts until Katsuki cums first with a choked off cry of Shouto’s name.

Shouto tells him how pretty he is like that and the blonde buries his face in the back of your shoulder.

You’re quick to follow when Shouto curls his hips just right and then your pussy’s suffocating him. You’re scratching at his toned chest and arching your back, leaving angry red lines near his collarbone.

Shouto falls over the edge just knowing he pushed you both to your peak.

As you all soak in the hazy afterglow, you try to catch your breath, leaning your entire weight on Katsuki’s chest as Shouto gingerly pulls his cock out.

“Get the hell off me, my legs are falling asleep,” Katsuki complains playfully. You smack his thigh sharply in retaliation and he laughs.

“Fuck off, I’m going.” Delicately you sit up and rise off him, rolling to the side and flopping onto your stomach with a wariness about how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

You’re unsure what happens next, drifting off until you wake up later in the night clean and with an oversized shirt on again.

You recognize this one as Shouto’s.

Grinning to yourself you turn and check on both men to find them out like lights.

You settle back down between them right where you belong and sleep better than you have for weeks.

[lunasfics]

Ghost of You - Jason Todd

summary: In which Jason Todd does what he thinks is best, and you’re left to pick up the pieces he left behind.

pairings: Jason Todd x f!reader

warnings: mention of canon typical violence, angst, cursing

word count: 1k

a/n: i would like to apologize in advance for this one 😭😭 i was in an angst type of mood, i hope you like it!! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!!

You didn’t sleep most nights. 

Sometimes you felt the ghost of his fingers trailing lazy patterns on your arm the way he used to love to do. Sometimes you’d dream that you were in bed and he was there sleeping next to you. In those dreams you took the opportunity to watch him, memorizing every detail of his face. Every scar. The small movements of his nostrils as he breathed peacefully. You’d remember the feeling of his rough hands holding you so gently. Like he was terrified of breaking you. 

But then you’d wake up to the cold empty space beside you, nothing but unwashed linen sheets filling the space because you didn’t want to wash away the scent that remained. The scent of him. 

Sometimes, when you’d first wake up, still groggy from your slumber, you’d think Jason was in the kitchen fixing up your favorite breakfast. Like he always did on lazy mornings. Only he was never there. Not anymore.

It was stupid. It was so stupid. The way you still thought about him. The way he just gave up. The way he thought he had control over what was best for you. 

And you were heartbroken. But you were also angry. 

So, so angry. 

You’d told him. You’d told him over and over that being with him was your decision, that risking your safety was never even a question for you when it came to being with him. You knew you’d always turn out okay, as long as you had him by your side. 

Yet he never seemed to listen. 

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of replaying that night over and over in your head. It was torture. 

“Jason-” 

“No. Do not even try to justify anything that just happened Y/n.” 

You paused. He never called you by your first name. Never.  You tried not to focus on it. “I’m not. But you need to know that it wasn’t your fault-” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course it was my fault, do you honestly think Black Mask would just kidnap you for fun? Are you that naive to think that you were not put at risk today because your boyfriend is the fucking Red Hood?” He dragged a hand over his face, he was pacing. His hands were shaky. You could have died. It would have been his fault had he not arrived when he did. 

“I am not naive, Jason. I am a grown woman and I knew damn well what I signed up for when I fell in love with you. I’m not afraid of this. I’m not afraid of anything as long as I’m with you.” 

He laughed dryly, “Bravery and the power of love won't keep you alive, Y/n. I can’t lose you. I can’t be the reason you get hurt.” 

“You never have been and you never will be. Just– Please. I need you to understand that.” Your voice cracked, your eyes welling with tears, what he didn’t understand is it hurt you so, so much to see him in pain. You couldn’t lose him either. And he was constantly risking his life, you’d almost lost him far too many times. 

He turned away from you. He couldn’t see you cry right now. He needed the shred of strength he had left to protect you. For good. 

He turned to you, “I’ve been a selfish piece of shit my whole life. And I can’t– Fuck. I can’t keep putting how I feel first at the expense of your safety. You deserve a normal life. Not whatever the fuck I dragged you into.” 

“Jason. What the fuck are you saying right now.” You didn’t want to believe it. 

He didn’t look at you. He knew the moment he looked into your tear-filled eyes he’d take it back instantly. He’d apologize, bring you you to bed and hold you, peppering your face with sweet, gentle kisses. He’d drag you right back into the cycle he’d trapped you in.

You wished he would. 

“Jason.” 

“I’m leaving, Y/n. You need someone who can take care of you. Who can give you what you deserve. I have to let you go.” 

“Are you shitting me? I want you. No one else. This is not your decision to make.” 

He started walking towards the door. “I’m sorry.”  He refused to turn around, his eyes filling up with tears as he walked further towards the door, his hand on the doorknob. 

“I want you to know that right now, you, Jason Todd, are hurting me more than anyone else ever could.” 

There was a pause before he turned the doorknob, opening it and stepping out. “You’ll survive.” 

That was the last time you spoke to him. 

Over and over. The memory replayed in your mind. Every night you dreamed of him, you dreamed he never left, that he had put aside his own pride and just listened to you. That he had just let you be there for him. 

You had no idea where he was. You were constantly looking at your phone. Constantly. Waiting, hoping that you’d get a call from him, telling you he was sorry. That he wanted to come back to you. That you’d make it work.

But it never came. And deep down, you knew it wouldn’t. 

So every day you tormented yourself with dreams of him. Thoughts of him. Remembering the feeling of his arms snaking around your waist as you made your morning coffee. The feeling of him plopping his tired body onto yours after a long day, running your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your chest. 

No thermal or weighted blanket provided the warmth and the security that he did. No pillow you hugged felt as comforting as hugging him did. No comedy you watched was as funny as when you watched it with him. No jacket you owned was as warm as the one he would drape over your shoulders while you were out together and it started to get cold. 

You lived with constant reminders that he was gone. Constant echoes of his previous presence. 

You could only hold on to the ghost of him that remained in your cold apartment. 

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 11

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, arguments. Angst. Toxic behavior. Johnny is struggling. Everyone is going through it. Johnny struggles.

"No contact?!" Johnny chokes, and you hesitate on the other end of the line, sharp breath rattling through the speaker phone. 

“My… my therapist thinks it would be good, to try it. For thirty days. Just to see how I feel.” Johnny’s fingers stretch across the front pocket of his pants. 

Thirty days? 

You’ve already been gone five, and it feels like five years.

He balks. No. No, this. This can't be. You have to be home, with them. Where you belong. Where they can fix it. 

“Ye… no, I thought… I thought this was just a break?” He doesn’t recognize his voice. It’s ragged and torn to shreds, and now fear makes it tremble. 

What does this mean? 

“It is, it is. I just… I have to try this.” You sound as sad, as fucked up as he does, and he wants to scream, throw the phone against the wall, say screw it all to hell and go over to your rental, bang on the door until you let them inside. 

“Of course, darling.” Simon soothes, and Johnny stares at him like he's lost his grasp on reality. Of course? Of course?! “We understand, we… we can do that. We’ll do whatever you want.” 

“No.” Johnny cuts in, he can’t stop himself, can’t control his mouth. He can’t agree to this, to not talking to you, or seeing you for thirty days. He can’t do it. “I-“

“ Johnny.” 

“Johnny-“ You both say his name at the same time. Yours is a plea. Simon’s is cautionary, finger seeking the mute button, cutting you out of the conversation for a split second, long enough for him to utter a warning. 

“Do not push her on this. We need to let her decide right now. She’s in control.” 

“Hello?”

“We’re here.” Simon assures you, unmuting the phone. “We understand. No contact, thirty days. Will you reach out, afterwards?” 

“I… I will, I promise.” 

“And you’ll take care of yourself?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a gulp. Simon’s façade cracks, enough that Johnny can see the fear that lurks there, the worry. 

“Ye-yeah. I am. I will.” 

“Will you come to bed?”

Johnny’s thumbs press together, overlapping where his fingers stay knitted tight, grasping onto one another like he’s holding onto himself for dear life.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in and then releases it slowly through his nose. It’s a self-soothing technique, one he’s seen you do a million times. But once he’s done, his response is no less acidic. “I cannae sleep.”

Silence is his answer, until-

“Johnny.” Simon’s forearm wraps across his shoulders, pulling him backwards from the stool and into the cushiony warmth of his chest, heat burning into his back. Simon’s always been a furnace, a giant, weighted, heated blanket, his touch one of safety, security. Care.

But right now, all it feels like is anguish.  

“Si.” He croaks, tears welling up behind his eyes. “I cannae do this any longer. I cannae… I need her back.”

“We need to be patient, and respect-“

“Respect?” Johnny blurts, incredulous. “No, No, I… We should be there, right now. We should be standing outside her door, we should be fightin’ for her, nae sitting ‘ere, waiting. Showin’ her how much she means; how sorry we are.” The warmth pulls away, an exasperated sigh blowing across the back of his neck.

“I’m not having this conversation again.” Simon is curt, growing cold, and it fuels the burning rage building inside Johnny’s stomach.

“Of course, because why would ye? It’s already settled in yer mind, isn’t it? That we just sit here, and wait, and let her slip away because ye coudnae keep yer mouth shut!” He’s said the same thing a thousand different ways over these last three weeks. Dressed Simon up and down six ways to Sunday over it, different verbiage each time.

The conversation always ends the same.

“Can you forgive me?” 

“Of course I can but I’m still mad at ye.” 

The anger foils away, ebbing into sadness, despair, and Johnny’s sight goes black when he buries his face in his hands.

“I miss her.” He whispers to the floor. The warmth returns and wraps him in a snug embrace, soft words hummed against the shell of his ear, each one punctuated with a kiss.

“I know, I know you do. I do too.”

“You nearly got yourself blown up!” Simon roars, and Johnny nearly flinches, steeling himself against his partner’s anger. “You can’t be makin’ stupid decisions like that. You jeopardized-“ 

“I knew what I was doin’. Dinnae question me, ye dinnae know anything about the tech behind those explosives, and ye know it.” He stands a little straighter, indignant, insulted, and Simon’s eyes narrow, before squinting, tension shoving his shoulders down in a slump. 

This isn’t like them. They’re always in lock step. One unit. One person, two hearts.  

The cot creaks beneath Simon’s weight, elbows against his knees. 

“Johnny, what’s going on?” 

“What do ye mean?” Dirty, cheap laminate flooring stares up at him, patterns in the grit swirling together like sand. 

“You’re not yourself. Price mentioned-“ 

“Ye and Price talkin’ ‘bout me?” Unsettled anger rattles him, immediate demand rising through his blood. Simon holds his hand up. 

“No. He was concerned, said you were a little rash the other day, on the recon. Asked if everything was alright.” He blinks. Blinks over and over, tries to quash the surging agony, the upheaval of his stomach. He fights it, tries to breathe through it, tries to stop it in his tracks, but a big grip wraps around his wrist, and tugs. 

He’s settled into Simon’s lap without another word, his nose to his neck, fingers stroking through his mohawk. 

“It’s going to be alright. You’re alright. We’re going to get her back, love.” 

“I cannae do this. Ye dinnae know-“ 

“I know.” He squeezes him, calming him, and Johnny melts a little, sharp blade of the pain turning dull. “I know that the best thing we can do right now is be patient, and respect what she’s asked us to do. When she’s ready, she’ll let us know, and we’ll do everything we can, to try to fix it. To make it better.” 

“I feel like there’s a hole-“ His hand rubs his chest, over and over, until the skin burns. “Like there’s a piece missing. I dinnae think I can do it, without her.” His voice breaks, and Simon’s attempt to calm him comes out like a strangled cry. “It hurts, Si.” 

“We won’t. We just have to be patient, Johnny. We have to. We have to show her we can do it.” Simon murmurs, and then they both slip into a sad silence, Johnny huffing through his tears against Simon’s chest until he’s dragging them both down into the little cot, escaping into the comfort of uneasy sleep. 

The flat is too quiet.

Lately, he’s been putting your favorite movies on in the small hours of the morning. Simon sleeps in now, restless until the sun starts to come up, and then he finally sinks beneath pull of dreams, or nightmares, whichever comes first.

So, Johnny curls up on the couch by himself, with your favorite tea, flip flopping between the rotation of movies that you always had rolling in the background, when you were painting, when you were cooking, or even reading.

But today, he paces. Back and forth from the bedroom, the kitchen, to the art room, the one you left half barren, the one that still holds nearly finished paintings, dried tubes of paint, stiff bristled brushes, long discarded for new ones, but not thrown away.

“I’m going to the gym, want to come?” Simon is hovering just outside the door, brows fixed together. He hasn’t stepped foot in here, Johnny has noticed, not since you left nearly a month ago. In fact, he avoids this room like the plague.

“No, ye go on.”

“You sure?” His head cocks in consideration, and then he nods.

“Yeah. Love ye.”

“Love you too. Be good.”

“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” Johnny seethes, arms crossed. Their half-eaten plates still sit cold on the table, mocking him since Simon left in the middle of the meal an hour ago. 

“Out. For a walk.” The hoodie comes up and over his shoulders, and Johnny catches a whiff of it.

Cigarette smoke.

“A walk, eh? Ye out walkin’, and smoking?”

“Johnny.”

“Dinnae Johnny me, ye’ve been smoking, I can smell it.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” He snaps, turning his back, heading into the bedroom, the bathroom.

“Ye dinnae want to do what?”

“This. Fight. Argue.” The shower clicks on, steam slowly building from the floor as Simon shucks his joggers, his boxers, Johnny’s eyes struggling to stay fixed on his partner’s face.

“I’m not arguing, I… I dinnae understand how ye can be so casual about this, it’s-“ 

“What am I supposed to do?” Simon turns on him, still angry, still hurt from their conversation earlier. It brews beneath the surface like a finely veiled stormed, just barely held back. “Lose my head? Fall apart?” 

“I dinnae, talk to me?” Simon’s jaw clenches. Every scar on Simon’s back speaks to him, tells him stories, corroborates his witness accounts. Johnny wishes he could take them away; wishes he could kiss them. 

But Simon feels so far away now. He’s felt miles away since you left, since the bed slept three, table slept three, couch held three. 

“I’m right here, Si. I’m here.”

Johnny knows what he’s doing is wrong. He’s fully self-aware, but completely out of control. His legs carry him down the street on autopilot, barrage of requests and demands from his rational self trying to break through the encasement where he’s locked them away.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t. 

He can’t help it. He can’t do this… anymore. It’s killing him. It’s killing Si.

He worries it’s killing you.

He tells himself he’s just going to check on you, make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to bother you, just make you’re alive. He’s not going to stay, he’s just going to say hi, ensure you’re safe, healthy, and then leave.

If you even open the door.

Guilt, anxiety, fear all turns over in his stomach, freezing through his blood as he climbs the stairs to your long term rental. He just needs to see you, needs lay eyes on you, just once, and it will all be okay. He’ll be okay, once he knows you’ll be okay.

Simon is going to be so bloody pissed. He grimaces. He knows there will be hell to pay. That Simon will be enraged, disappointed. That he’ll be upset.

They made a promise. He made a promise. 

And now he’s going to break it, just like that.

He stands outside your door for too long, contemplating. Trying to sift through every decision he’s ever made, that led him to this point. He could still turn around, still go home, even though his finger is itching to ring the bell, a burning desire searing through his mind, urging him forward until his forehead is thunking softly against the wood, eyes closing.

Darling.

He can still see your face, your smile. The ways your eyes light up, the way your voice sounds when you say his name.

“I need ye, we need ye.” He whispers to no one, and then his finger presses the button, breath holding in his chest.

A few seconds pass. He strains to listen, latching onto the sound of footsteps inside, the click of a lock, the creak of the hinges, and then the door opens wide, revealing you on the other side.

“Darling.” You’re haunted, a flicker of a memory, a sharpened shadow sawing into the soft matter of his brain. You blink like you're trying to clear your vision, like you're struggling to see him, and he offers you an uneasy smile, something nervous and unsettled. You shake your head, mouth open in surprise, confusion, eyes wide.

“Johnny.”

[folkloresthings]

❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩

📻 track three: you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.

… OCTOBER 2023

INSTAGRAM. october second.

liked by irisapatow, rachelzegler and 810,673 more

yourusername time for another track! 🤡 i first started writing you're just a boy (and i'm kinda the man) after listening non-stop to taylor swift and shania twain and i decided what i really needed was to take those feelings and make a female power song of my own. so i wrote one! it helped me to remember that losing the love of a man does not make you any less of a person, and i hope it can do the same for others. oh, and it's also a bop.

view all 499,020 comments

user QUEEN

taylorswift you're kinda making me feel like... i'm the man 💪👸

user i fear this will tear lando's ego to shreds

⤷ user it doesn't feel fair on him, like he doesn't get to tell his side of the story

⤷ user girl there's definitely a reason he's kept quiet 😭

lissiemackintosh soooo excited for this one!!!! my new karaoke song?

⤷ yourusername come at do it at the concerts

⤷ lissiemackintosh i like your fans too much to do that to them

user CLOWN LANDO ERA

REWIND... OCTOBER 2022

"guess what, guess what!"

lando was mid-game when you rushed into the living room, glancing up from the television when you bound into view. he slips back one side of his headphones, eyes following suit a few moments later once the screen is paused.

“what?”

“guess!”

lando sighs, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “lewis finally retired?”

“no, silly.” scoffing, you slap at his arm and plonk down next to him on the couch. “management just called — i’ve been asked if i want to do a world stadium tour. the bowl, wembley, madison square garden!”

lando’s mouth fell open in slight shock, your excitement obviously contagious as his eyes light up. in a split second he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.

“holy shit, babe,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist.

“i know,” you squeal quietly, muffled against his shoulder. “they just need to set up the next album release and then announce the dates.”

behind your embrace, the cogs of lando’s head start to turn and calculate the information. sitting back, he looks at you with confusion set in his brow.

“when would that be?” he asks, head tilted.

you shrug, not noticing his growing resentment of the news. “depends. they want the album done for late summer, so that means an autumn release. so probably in the new year.”

“the second half of the season?”

lando’s cold tone makes you smile, almost uncomfortably, waiting for his former excitement to return. uneasily, you nod.

“well, yeah, but—”

“i thought you said you were going to come to all the races, since you’ve only been to monaco and silverstone this season?” he cuts you off. you catch the frustration in his eyes like a hawk, shifting off of his lap before it bubbles over. “you’re not going to be able to do that if you’re on tour.”

“that’s not true,” you try and reason, hopeful that your calm tone might balance his. “there’s texas and vegas. besides, i don’t even know what dates i’ll have shows yet, i could fly in for race days.”

lando shakes his head, pushing himself from the couch cushions and onto his feet. “that’s not the point. you promised you’d be there for me this season. i actually have a chance for once, and you don’t even care.”

the dismissive tone that spits off his tongue makes you flinch, a heavy frown falling around your cheeks. “what am i supposed to do? turn down my biggest tour yet to come watch you race every single week?”

“yes!” lando exclaims, turning sharply. “that’s what good girlfriends do — look at kika and lily!”

anger pricks at your eyes and throat, swallowing hard to keep it at bay. “you haven’t been to one of my shows in months. you don’t even have time to listen to demos when i ask you to. there are two of us in this relationship, lando. it isn’t always about you.”

you see his defence ready behind his lips but you’re quicker, ready before he can speak.

“i went to every single race last season,” you tell him. your tone is calm, steady — making the words even more intense. “every one. i have been your biggest fan since day one. so don’t ever, ever, say i’m being selfish.”

lost for words, lando stares at you. only because he knows it’s true does he halt his argument there, turning and storming into the bedroom to preserve some dignity. you stare at the slamming door and wonder how he can watch on so easily as you slip through his fingers, and not want to do anything at all?

INSTAGRAM. november twenty—fourth.

liked by danielricciardo, maxfewtrell and 928,244 others

yourusername always your #1 fan (even when you dnf) 🫶

view all 630,737 comments

carlossainz55 did he get a lollipop for being a good patient?

⤷ yourusername and a sticker 😄😄

user poor lando

landonorris my favourite nurse ❤️

user they’re sooooo cute

user that crash looked bad

yourusername dw guys i’m giving him lots of kisses and rubs better !!!!!

⤷ landonorris not as many as i’d like 😏

⤷ yourusername you’ve got a hello kitty plaster on your head you cannot be seductive right now

"oh, shit."

the fight that dreaded evening had hung over both you and lando for weeks, both of you much too stubborn to admit to any wrongdoing or, god forbid, apologise. but you carried on. if anything it was worse than not speaking. it was like nothing had happened, as if the conversation never even happened, as long as neither one of you mentioned it. still, there was a tension holding you at arms length from each other.

so to not bring up the same argument again, you followed lando to the next few races. come vegas, you had given yourself so much time to think about things and the way lando had handled it all that your mind was screaming at you to leave. to book a flight home, pack up your stuff and go. because how much more of this could you take? you weren't the trophy girlfriend, the wag whose only job was to look pretty beside her accomplished boyfriend.

you would do it after vegas, you decided. there was a few days off; time for you to talk to lando and explain your feelings, before walking out with your head held high just in time for the next race. then, the worst happened.

chatting idly to lily, the race only just beginning, you almost missed it. for a moment, you thought it was oscar spinning out. the bright orange sparks masked which number was painted onto the car, spinning drastically until the nose of the vehicle slammed into the barriers. lily grasped your arm, her sympathetic eyes making you look twice. number four, lando.

in a daze, you followed the one of the marshalls through the busy paddock until you reached the ambulance area. he had already been loaded in, paramedics and mclaren employees surrounding him. there wasn't enough room, they needed to go now.

"hop in, i'll drive you," charlotte's gentle voice appeared beside you, guiding you into the car as the ambulance hurried off. "they said he's probably fine, they just want to do the usual checks."

you nod, trusting her. you could always trust charlotte, right?

after what felt like hours, you arrived to the hospital and didn't think twice about elbowing every single person out of your way until you reached lando's room. he was laid still on the bed, eyes watching the small television in the corner. his leg was strapped up, an iv stuck into his arm, various bruises littering his skin and face. he looked up when he heard you, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"it looks worse than it is," he assured you, noticing the panic in your eyes straight away. you breathe out some of the relief, the rest coming in a sudden pool of tears. "hey - hey, c'mere."

lando outstretches the arm that doesn't hurt like a bitch, ushering you to his side. you don't hesitate, lip wobbling as you hurry over and perch yourself on the side of the bed. tucked into his shoulder, you nuzzle as closely as you can without hurting him.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you mumble, and you both know just what you're apologising for. what was a stupid fight worth when chalked up to all of this?

"me too," lando replies quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

sitting back, you look over his face. a small scratch from the helmet, just above his cheekbone. his eyes are drooping, tired from the impact and the drugs. you sniffle and smile sadly, thumb brushing over the wound.

"i'm going to move the tour," you tell him, and note that he doesn't protest. "if i'm on the other side of the world and something happens, i—”

lando shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss. "nothing's going to happen. i'm still in one piece, aren't i?"

you hesitate, then nod, letting him shift over so you can lay next to him. resting your head on his chest, both of you quietly watching the rest of the race, you feel your head spin. maybe he had been losing you, but could you survive losing him?

writers note: we're back baby. lando count yr days my man

taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @bingussthirdtoe @destinyg237 @theonottsbxtch @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid

[pickingupmymercedes]

“watch it. seriously.” “take another step towards me and watch what happens.”

hi can we have one where it is the 1st time lewis ever hurt her deeply with his words after days of giving her silent treatment without any explanation? and then reader just decided to stop trying to talk to him bcs she has tried everything b4? and then maybe decided to sleep separately or smth. HEAVY ANGST and SFW please. also, congratulations on the 500 followers!!!! i love you 🤍🤍🤍

Hi lovely, thank you for sending your request ❤️

Also, I changed the timeline of your blurb a bit (mainly because I kind wanted to give this one a happy ending). Hope it's okay

“watch it. seriously.” and “take another step towards me and watch what happens.”

Y/N slammed the apartment door shut behind her, the sound echoing through. Lewis stood frozen in the middle of the living room; the remnants of his half-packed bags scattered around as they were both supposed to be packing for Singapore.

"Seriously, Lewis?" Her voice was tight, laced with hurt and anger. "It's not even a special race, and I’m going to be with you in the very weekend anyway!"

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Lewis ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mirroring hers.

"It's more than just the race, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice strained. "Everything lining up just right."

"I can’t leave my team right now Lewis." she spat, the words bitter on her tongue. "My work and my life is just as important as yours, your know!?"

Lewis's jaw clenched. "Watch it. Seriously."

But the warning only fueled her fire. "No, you watch it, Lewis!" she shouted, tears stinging her eyes. "You fly all over the world, chasing glory, and then expect me to drop everything on a dime because it might be a 'good race'?!"

He flinched, and the hurt in his eyes momentarily stopped her tirade. But the silence stretched, and the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Then, in a low voice laced with frustration, Lewis spoke, “This isn't working, Y/N. Our schedules just don't..."

The words cut her deeper than any argument ever could. Without a word, she turned and started to walk away. Lewis caught her hands, trying to turn her around but she flinched at his touch.

"Don't," she warned, her voice surprisingly steady. "Take another step towards me and watch what happens." He froze, hand hovering in mid-air. "Y/N," he started, frustration battling with concern in his voice.

But she cut him off, the fight momentarily drained out of her. "I'll… I'll talk to you later" she mumbled, needing some space to cool down before she shredded their fragile peace even further.

 She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew Lewis just wanted her with him for support, especially on race weekends, but her own hectic schedule made it impossible for her to be there for every race, and he had always known that. Yet, the sting of his words wouldn't fade.

Hours later, when the anger had subsided and only a dull ache remained, Y/N found her way to the music room, the most likely place to find him. The door was slightly ajar, and the soft strains of his favorite playlist filled the space.

Lewis sat on the worn leather couch, his head hanging low as he tried to write something on a notebook. He looked up as she entered, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by a heavy sigh.

"Can we talk about it?" she asked, her voice softer now.

"I'm here when you're ready" he replied, his voice gruff.

She crossed the room and sat down on the other end of the couch, gazing out the window for a moment before turning back to him. "What's so important about Singapore, Lewis?" she asked, the question heavy with unspoken hurt.

He hesitated, then met her gaze. "It's… the car feels good this week," he finally admitted. "The data, the track�� everything's lining up." He paused, then added softly, "And I would really like you to be there with me, if that victory is really possible."

The air hung heavy for a moment. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe, just maybe, your team could catch up virtually.

"Alright, Hamilton" she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like you get your lucky charm this weekend then."

______________________________________________________________

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