#Intensive English Language Course

[pearl-kite]

I know consciously that this all day meeting/session/whatever/thing tomorrow is not going to be as bad as my brain is preparing me for but uuggghhh I really hope that the teacher that preemptively called it a waste of time in front of god and everyone calls out and just isn't there

[chronicillnesscaneffoffplease]

I’ve had a few “whoops this thing I stopped doing is actually helping me” moments recently.

I’ve felt wretched and like I was coming down with the flu recently. It felt more than my normal PEM symptoms, and I was really concerned. And then I realise it’s spring, a bunch of stuff is blooming, and it’s been sooooo windy. And I stopped taking antihistamines and my nasonex sometime last year (antihistamines bc we thought it might have been causing some side effects, nasonex bc I hate the sensation of nasal sprays and need motivation to use it). Pesky hayfever. Needless to say I’m feeling much better having restarted my regimen. I felt a bit silly that I could have avoided feeing miserable though.

I went out for an appointment yesterday in my “knock about the house” shoes that are podiatrist loathed (nil ankle support, nil arch support, worn down), rather than my lace up shoes with my orthotics. After that appointment, I thought I’d check out a new store that’s opened at the shops nearby. I ended up doing a LOT of walking at the shops and today my ankles are sooooo painful and my hips been acting up. I guess it’s good to know that my shoes and orthotics are doing good things in terms of symptom prevention (as well as better longer-term outcomes) but damn do I feel ouchie.

I’m framing it as “yay negative data also tells us important things” because I gotta remember it’s not my fault when these things happen but it is good to try learn from them. And frankly, when there’s so many things going on with your health and condition management as a disabled person, it’s okay when things fall through the cracks. It’s gonna happen. Especially when there’s lots of non-disability stuff going on too. It’s okay.

[cosmogyros]

.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Loving your writing and saw that you’re accepting asks!

I have this thought about monster boyfriend of some sort who is desperate to have sex but you’re hesitant/nervous because he’s so big/will knot you. He reassures you and says that he’ll put in just the tip to ease you into it and then you’re both going crazy for it and he goes feral and thrusts the whole thing in/pops his knot in you

I'm so happy to hear this! Especially since English is not my first language (if that isn't painfully obvious lol). Thank you for this incredibly excellent ask!

Hidden in the Basement

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

You could hear him in the basement. It was that time of the year - he goes into rut and he simply... needs his alone time. He always kisses you, lingering just a tad bit longer than usual, and retreats downstairs.

You stand outside the door. He is trying to stay as quiet as he can, muffling his groans and heavy breathing, but he's too loud. Too pent up.

You want to help him. He is almost frenzied when in rut and sometimes hurts himself or the others. He recognizes you, of course, but there is something in his behavior that scares you. Although - you bite your lip - not in a necessarily bad way.

You notice the basement is too quiet. Is he okay? You try the door handle - surprisingly, he didn't lock himself in. Perhaps he forgot? You go downstairs, as quietly as possible. It is almost too dark to see, but you can't turn on the light - you shouldn't be here after all.

He is kneeling on the floor, his huge pulsating cock in one hand as he is trying to get off. It is out of the sheath, a big bulbous knot at the base, and leaking glans on the top. His other hand is holding your panties. He is sniffing and biting them while jacking off. The fabric is completely damp.

Your face burns from embarrassment. Somehow you feel you shouldn't have seen this. Maybe you could sneak outside without him noticing? But... do you want to? You've never seen him like this, barely human, his limbs different and longer and stronger, his neck wider, his tail more flexible. It was him, but not completely. Also his cock... it changed in a rather interesting way.

He finally senses you and his eyes snap open, his pupils dangerously dilating.

"I'm sorry!" You panic and try running upstairs. You barely climb two steps before he grabs you from behind and lifts you. You yelp in surprise. He carries you downstairs and, without letting you go, kisses you. Everything about him is different, even his embraces. They are so intense, more consuming, needy. More feral. His hands quickly remove all your clothes and his fingers find your breasts.

"Wait," you gasp. "You are so big. I can't..."

He nibbles your neck, his large hands cupping your ass cheeks. "I need you. I will be careful, I promise. Let me have you a little bit or I'll go mad." His voice mutated into more dominant, animalistic one. You whimper as his finger finds your pussy and pushes against your entrance. "Not wet enough."

In one easy move, he lifts you up in front of his face and places your knees over his shoulders. Once your pussy is perfectly leveled with his large mouth, he proceeds to eat you out like a starving animal.

"Aaaah... aaah..." You wiggle and pant, sensations too overwhelming. But he firmly holds you in place. His tongue reaches places no toy or his human form ever reached. It circles around your clit and pumps into your entrance, swelling and pulsating. Your boyfriend pleasures you until you're soaking wet and trembling, and then lowers you just above his massive cock. "Please!" you scream, intimidated by the knot. "I can't do it..."

"I will put just the tip in," he reassures you. "I would never hurt you."

He sounds like your old wonderful boyfriend and you slightly relax in his arms. The way he kisses you by biting your lips, licking your face and sliding his long tongue deep into your throat is truly something special. Distracting you with his mouth, he slowly forces his glans into your pussy. It glides easily, and you both moan.

"You are so..." he whispers under his breath. "So tight. So amazing."

He barely enters and immediately lifts you up again. He is breathing heavily and sweating, his muscles trembling. You know it's not because he can't hold you like this - he is barely controlling himself, trying not to impale you on his massive cock.

"More..." You whine, his monster phallus rubbing against your wet walls. "Give me more."

He grunts happily and let's you slide down. He fills you completely, holding you safely with his arms. "Fuck... Can I go faster?"

"Yes please." Your blood is already boiling, nerves vibrating from incoming orgasm.

He starts bouncing you up and down, only pushing the half of his length inside. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. He is stretching you bit by bit, and immediately pulling out. His grunts and panting, and your moaning surround your sweating bodies. "Fuck... Fuck..." you both pant into each other's ear.

"Harder," you moan and his hips start jerking upwards when his arms lower you down. The impact is so much stronger, more intense, more ecstatic. After just a few thrusts, you climax and scream into your hands. You are so loud, it's embarrassing.

"No, let me hear you. Scream more for me. "

He speeds up, your pussy contracting around his cock and you can only moan and whimper from your overwhelming prolonged orgasm. He presses you against his chest, growling like a beast, and jerks his hips upwards. There is some sudden pain, but pleasure too, and you cry out.

His low moans become louder as he pounds you. Your entire body feels his body, all around you and inside you. Finally, with a hard thrust, he grunts into your hair and forces you even harder against his body. Hot liquid enters deeply into your womb. It feels amazing.

With panting and drooling all over you, your boyfriend lets your torsos separate. But nothing else.

"I knotted in you. I can't pull out." He sounds both happy and worried. You look down and see a big bulge from your swollen pussy all the way to your navel. And finally you realize his whole monster cock entered you including the knot. "I'm sorry," he says.

It doesn't hurt too much. It's a bit sore, sure. With little practice, you are sure you could do this every day. The thought makes your pussy throb. He feels that and looks at you curiously.

With a sly smile, you rub the tip of his cock through your skin and it twitches. "Sorry? I'm upset we haven't tried this sooner. No need to hide in the basement from me ever again." Realizing what you said, he happily purrs and embraces you.

[happilyhertale]

My dragoness – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: Weeks have passed since the announcement of your betrothal to your Uncle Daemon. Since then, hardly a night has gone by without Daemon visiting you - without disregarding your wish not to take the final step yet. But tonight, on your wedding night, you will finally be fully his.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fingering, sex (p in v), breeding kink, size kink, loss of virginity

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is another part of my Shared Future series.

x3 When @targaryen-dynasty asked me if I would like to participate in celebrating her 3K follower milestone, of course I agreed x3

Some have asked for another part for the Shared Future series, which is why I'm celebrating Laura's milestone with this story.

I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Other stories of mine

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Your eyes are closed and your shaky breath echoes in the chambers. The rooms that you will share with your husband from now on.

The ceremony seems only distant in your memory and now so surreal as you lie here on this bed. How all eyes were on you when your eyes only looked into your uncle's. How you couldn't suppress a grin when you recognised the slightest smile around his lips. How he gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand before enveloping your lips with his…

"Hey... open your eyes," you hear Daemon say - almost softly.

You obey him and your eyes slowly open. The scenery shoots in on you as you lie on the bed in just your nightgown, your husband standing in front of the bed, looking at you, slowly opening his shirt.

"That's better," he says gently and smiles at you.

You don't know why you're so nervous. He's seen you naked countless times, driven you to ecstasy with his touch. But this time it's different, it's your wedding night.

He slowly approaches you as he slowly opens his trousers. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your nightgown as you try to breathe more calmly. Without looking at him, you hear his trousers slide down.

Daemon's eyes linger on you. He takes in every nervous twitch and quickened breath and he moves closer.

"There's no need to be nervous. I've seen every inch of you, explored every curve, and tasted your sweet surrender. Tonight, we seal our union, and I will show you just how much you belong to me," he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "It will be special," his soft voice sounds and you hear the words you whispered to him countless nights ago.

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. You know that Daemon is a man of passion and intensity, and tonight, he intends to leave his mark on you in more ways than one.

Daemon's eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness as he watches you fidget and nervously avoid his gaze.

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek before trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is both tender and possessive, a contrast that only adds to the intensity of the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your nightgown, slowly lifting it up, revealing your body to him in all its vulnerability.

You feel the mattress give way as Daemon kneels on the bed. You look up and your purple Targaryen eyes meet. A gasp leaves your lips as his hand brushes across your thigh, gently grasping the underside of it and spreading your thighs slightly - his rough hand, a stark contrast to your soft skin. His other hand slides to your face, his index finger and thumb cupping your chin, lifting your head slightly.

"Look at me... focus on me..." he whispers and you nod slightly as you look into his eyes. Carefully, he pushes your legs apart as he kneels between them. His lips glide over your cheek, over your neck, while his hand slides further up your thigh.

Your eyes flutter shut as you concentrate fully on his touch. His warm breath glides over your skin as his lips caress you. The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers grip your inner thigh.

"That's my girl... concentrate on my touch..." he whispers against your skin. You nod slightly again and gasp as his fingers cup your folds - you'll never get tired of this feeling. Slowly, his fingers move, smearing the wetness along your folds. His fingers find your sensitive bud, light circular movements follow and as if of their own accord your hips move to follow their movement.

Daemon follows your movements, sliding his fingers to your soaked opening, applying light pressure. His fingertips are literally sucked in and a mewling sound comes from your lips. You exhale heavily, his fingers thrust deeper, your eyes still closed.

Daemon's lips curl into a smug smile as he watches your reactions, relishing in the way you respond to his touch. He takes pleasure in knowing that he can easily bring you to the edge with just his fingers alone.

His fingers continue their exploration, sliding in and out of your wetness, gradually increasing the depth and pace of his thrusts. He watches as your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"You're so wet... I don't even really need to work to get inside you," Daemon murmurs and you blush slightly, but your moans don't let up.

"Open your eyes" he whispers, "I want you to watch as I prepare you for me. See how wet and ready you are for my cock."

As you obey again, your eyes meeting his, Daemon's fingers quicken their pace, delving deeper into your core. He revels in the way your breath hitches, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're ready for me, aren't you? You want my cock inside you, filling you completely."

You blush even more - you know that Daemon loves to fill your mind with filthy words. Even if they have the desired effect on you, you can't help but blush.

But suddenly you feel him pull his fingers out of you and a soft whimper leaves you. You feel your nerves again as you look down and see him pulling down his undergarments. You've seen his manhood many times before, on the nights he's visited you - but this is different.

His length is released and you gasp slightly - it's never seemed so big to you, so thick. His hand slides along his throbbing length and you hear him grunt slightly.

"Daemon... this... this won't fit..." you suddenly whisper nervously and your hand slides to his arm.

Daemon smiles, still pumping his hardness.

"Hey... look at me," he whispers again and you look up. But then he kisses you, wrapping his lips around yours, swallowing your doubts.

The kiss is filled with a hunger that ignites a fire deep within you. His hand roams your body, claiming every inch, as if marking you as his territory. The intensity of his touch, the way he dominates your senses, leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"It will fit... we will make it fit... It will hurt at first, but the reward will be all the better," he whispers against your lips. You can't help but nod as he slides the tip of his hardness through your folds.

Your eyes flutter shut and you inhale sharply. Your fingers dig into his skin as his length presses against your pearl. Again your hips move towards him, seeking more of that touch.

Daemon looks down, between your bodies, watching closely as your wetness and his precum mingle. His growl echoes through the chambers. You concentrate fully on the sensation as he guides its length to your entrance.

Slowly he pushes forward and you feel the pressure as his manhood tries to penetrate you. A slight whimper leaves you as your heat envelops his tip. He growls slightly, senses your tightness and starts to move slowly.

"You're doing great..." he whispers in your ear, gently kissing your cheek as he pushes further. You feel the pressure, biting your lip as he impales you on his hot length. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, is overwhelming. Your walls clench around him, trying to accommodate to his size. Daemon's pace is slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness and warmth of your core.

But Daemon still feels a lot of resistance, he's nowhere near all the way in yet.

"Love... it's going to hurt for a moment now... but it has to be," he whispers and your eyes open again, looking at him. You whimper, but you nod slightly. He leans his forehead against yours, lets his nose slide gently along yours before kissing you softly again. His rhythmic movements don't let up as his tongue searches for yours and you moan slightly.

When suddenly he thrusts and you cry out as the sharp pain runs through your abdomen. He swallows your cry, his hand on your hip as his thick length works you open. "Uncle Daemon..." you whimper into his mouth as he slides in and out.

"I know..." he whispers, but he keeps moving. The pain slowly subsides. Your cunt, clenching around his cock in protest, slowly gives way. He feels the fluttering of your walls and closes his eyes briefly.

"Gods you feel so good," he growls. Slight mewling sounds leave your lips as your hips begin to move with him. He smiles at you, "That's my girl," he whispers a little breathlessly as his hips move faster. He can feel you soaking his cock, your pleasure increasing, and it spurs him on.

His thrusts get harder as he tries to bury himself completely inside you. He revels in the feeling of your tightness around him, the way you yield to his every thrust. Moans escape you now as your hands grip his upper arms. His hand still on your hip, holding you in place.

He watches your face, observing every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, marking you as his.

"You're so tight, so wet," his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. "You were made for me... Made to be filled by me," he grunts as he feels the tight grip of your cunt.

You are completely overwhelmed by the sensation as your cunt is fully stretched. You feel his balls slapping against you with every thrust and you whimper. His grunts echo through your chambers as he feels the continuous spasming of your wet walls. His eyes drift down again, seeing his glistening length disappear into your perfect womanhood again and again - the moment he's been waiting for so long, finally fulfilled.

He looks at your face again, sensing your impending climax - your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you try to follow his movements. Your noises a mixture of moans and whimpers. His hand slides to your abdomen, pressing lightly against it. He wants to feel his hot length sliding into you, bringing you to climax.

His thumb begins to tease your bud as he thrusts harder and faster into you. You cry out slightly, but you can feel the pressure in your abdomen. Your fingernails dig deeper into his skin as he pumps in and out, his thumb rubbing faster.

"Come for me... Soak my cock, suck up my seed..." he growls in your ear and you moan again. You open your eyes and look into his - blown wide with lust.

As your climax approaches, Daemon's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more powerful. He can feel the walls of your core tightening around him, signaling your imminent release.

With one final powerful thrust, he plunges deep within you, his cock pulsating as he finds his own release. The sensation of him emptying himself inside you pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You moan out, your walls milk his cock and he grunts loudly. He watches your face contort with pleasure as moan after moan leaves your lips while your warm walls spasm around him. He's never seen anything so perfect - you're finally his.

He leans down, kisses you, swallows your moans of pleasure.  His hips move more slowly as you come sliding back to reality from the veil of lust.

When his movements slow down completely, he releases the kiss. You can still feel him inside you, his nose slides gently along yours, you see him smile slightly.

"Are you all right?" he whispers a little breathlessly. You just nod and a breathless "Okay," leaves his lips. You whimper slightly in protest as he slowly pulls out of you. His length glistening with a mixture of your fluids. He watches you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction, before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

In this moment, there is no one else but the two of you, lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Your bodies are entwined, your souls connected in a way that words cannot describe.

Your heavy breathing echoes in your chambers as he slowly releases the kiss, his gaze travelling down your body as he leans back.

His gaze is fixed on your womanhood and you feel something unfamiliar dripping out of you. Your hand instinctively wants to slide between your legs, but you only notice a slight shake of his head before he stops your hand. His other hand slides to your folds and slowly he pushes his fingers inside you, but you are overstimulated, your hips jerk back slightly.

"Don't," he whispers, "My seed must stay inside you.... I want a perfect heir to grow inside you"

You blush slightly, but his fingers slowly slide inside you, pushing the seed deeper inside you. Your eyes flutter shut slightly as you surrender to this feeling.

Daemon's eyes darken with possessiveness as he watches your reactions, his fingers still buried deep inside you. He can feel the wetness and warmth around his digits, evidence of the pleasure he has brought you. The thought of his seed filling you, the possibility of creating an heir, sends a surge of pride through him.

His thumb brushes against your sensitive pearl, eliciting a shudder from your body. He can sense your sensitivity, the overstimulation that threatens to overwhelm you. But he doesn't stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pleasure.

"You're mine… My dragoness" he murmurs, his voice low and almost commanding. "And I will fill you with my seed until you bear me a child. You will be the mother of my heir“

Daemon watches you, his fingers still buried deep inside you. His fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. He can feel the tension building within you, your body on the precipice of another climax. He wants to take you there, to see you come undone in his arms once more.

As the waves of pleasure begin to build once again, you can feel his fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your body. It's almost too much to bear, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

And as your moans fill the air, your body convulsing around his fingers, he knows he has succeeded. He watches with satisfaction as your pleasure washes over you, your walls clenching around his fingers. In his mind, your precious womb sucks up his seed with every contraction.

Finally he slowly pulls his fingers out of you – a mixture of his seed and your arousal covers his fingers. He smiles and collapses next to you on the bed, his breathing still heavy and laboured.

He looks at you, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. You smile almost shyly before his arm wraps around your middle and pulls you closer. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. His fingers glide gently over your abdomen as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear - your heavy breathing and light giggles fill the air.

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[sunnymoonxx]

❝lethal lust❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: smut without plot, little bit of angst! ep6 left me speechless so of course i had to write something

warnings: english is not my native language, p in v, ocean sex (don't recommend), fingering, backshots against a rock, little bit of violence, established relationship, qimir being too fine

now playing, lust for life by lana del rey

The stones were cold, running through your numb bare feet. The lukewarm wave from the ocean soothed the pain, gently caressing your skin with its rhythmic ebb and flow. The ache slowly vanished as you dipped your ankles deep into the water, letting the waves cling to your calves.

You woke up later than intended today, exhausted and sore from last nights encounter with the jedi. You suffered many injuries, the outcome of being out of practice for many months. You were fortunate to find yourself this morning with only scars left, your lethal wounds healed and mended. You could never count on your fingers how many times Qimir saved your life. The number of times he healed your wounds, no matter how little they were. He hated seeing you injured, harmed in any way. You wanted to pay him back but you had no idea how. Any time you asked him he responded with, I have you. That’s all that matters. You always felt a little guilty.

“Are you gonna just stand there or join me?” You heard him spoke, few meters away from you, relaxing in the ocean, guarded by a circle of large rocks. He had his back turned to you, his hair pushed back, wet, dripping with to his shoulders. You saw his scar many times, but never got quiet used to it. You wanted to find that person who gave it to him and make them suffer for eternity. One day, he promised you.

Lifting up your hands to your robe, you slowly untied it, letting it fall on the shore, taking your time to get into the water.

After a few seconds you finally reached him, putting your hands on the side of his arms, your chin resting on his shoulder. His skin was hot, despite the cool temperature around you. You felt his hands reach out for your legs under the water, caressing your skin with his fingers.

“You saved me there,” you broke the silence, lifting your hand to play with the ends of his hair. “Again.” Last night, Yord almost separated your head from your shoulders and if it wasn’t for Qimir pulling you away, you wouldn’t see him turn to face you now. His eyes were set low, softness blending it with yearning. His hands danced their way from your thighs to your waist to pull you closer to him. You could feel every curve of his, every small movement against your skin, and even after hundreds of times, you never got used to the striking feeling it brought you.

“You would do the same for me,” he simply added, tilting his head, scanning you with his eyes.

“But I never do.” You replied, ashamed, shaking your head. “You never need my saving. It is always I, who needs it.” You felt embarrassment crawling to your cheeks but returning his intense stare. He never broke eye contact; it made you nervous.

“You’re saving me every day,” smile danced on his lips as his hand reached your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheekbone. “By being here with me.” His voice was soft, teasing. “I lost everything a long time ago, and I thought I was at peace, that it fit me. But all I needed was someone by my side, someone to share the same feelings, desires, dreams that I do. You found me.” His thumb moved in circles on your cheek, making sure you heard every word he let out.

You didn’t dare to even blink, admiring every movement of his lips, his eyebrows, the way his eyes kept circling your face.

“You’re saving me simply by returning the love I give you.” He repeated before slowly leaning in to give you a small kiss on the top of your nose.

“But-“ he didn’t even let you start, placing his wet hand against your mouth. You saw the smirk on his lips, the desire to kick him in the shin growing stronger every second.

“No arguing,” he said, more steadily and loudly. “Please,” you heard him add, lowering his voice back.

You didn’t want to argue either, but you wanted to do more then just to breathe next to him. You wanted to help him when it came to battle, protect him from potential harm. It was like arguing with a wall. He knew you were powerful, almost his equal. But the fear of getting you hurt made him keep you away from the fights he so often faced.

Okay.

You thought to yourself, before feeling his hand move away from your mouth, to let it rest against your hip. His other hand found yours, lifting it up and pushing it against his abdomen. His eyes never left yours and you could slowly recognize the desire within them.

You remembered, years back, when you still trained as a jedi, any sign or hint of desire forced you to suffer the jedi punishment. As a jedi, especially as a padawan, you could never let these thoughts even fly around your mind. If you even dared to share a though, you were destined to dark side. That’s what you were taught. Until you met Qimir. You were both padawans, both training to be the next jedi knights. So when you saw the glimpse in his eyes, you realized you might not be the only one. That it’s normal to feel those things. It’s normal to want. And for months you despised yourself, but Qimir helped you. Helped you how to deal with those feelings. Taught you.

When you two were later found out, you were forced to leave the Order, as for Qimir, you never found out what they did to him. He never told you, not even after years when you found each other again, leaving you wondering. You wanted to avenge him, hurt those who hurt him. Why did he suffer for things you were too a part of.

You didn’t know how long you stood there for, how long he held your hand against his torso, or how many times the waved washed over you. You started to get cold and Qimir wasn’t blind to it. You stood still as he lowered his gaze to your shoulders where he slowly rested his hand. His fingers tracing your scars, slowly moving his way up your collarbones, to your neck, tickling your jaw, until he placed it next to your ear, curling his fingers to get underneath your hair. His other hand, still underwater let go of yours to push it to your lower back, centimeters above your ass.

He didn’t say anything as he moved in closer, his lips brushing against your face. You started to feel the heat between your legs grow stronger, his smell driving you crazy. Closing your eyes you let him leave wet marks on your skin, bending his knees to circle down to your chest, his nails pressing against your back dimples.

You didn’t realize all while doing that, he was slowly pushing you back until you were met with a hard texture of the rock behind you. It wasn’t necessarily comfortable but when Qimir’s lips attacked your breasts, all of the discomfort left your mind.

Instinctively your hands moved to his, still dripping wet hair, enjoying the sensation of his mouth. His tongue started circling your hard nipples, his fingers lightly tugging on your hair. Moans started to leave your mouth as his other hand squeezed your ass, his mouth never leaving your tits. Lifting your arm to hold on onto his, as he kept pulling your hair.

Even in the water, you could feel the wetness already forming between your thighs, his touch clouding your thoughts and any form of previous opinions.

He knew exactly how to make you want him, how to touch you and how to keep you on the edge. How many times he made you straddle him during training sessions, how many times he walked around naked just to pass by you. He enjoyed the teasing, and you knew it.

You were aware of every touch of is and when his hips met yours, pushing you with force against the cold stone, you had to bite back a moan. He was already rock hard, resting against your abdomen.

He quickly moved away from you, his hands and mouth leaving you only to find his fingers right between your legs, brushing against your bundle of nerves. You cried out, not expecting him to be so fast. Most of the times he waited till tears formed in your eyes, wanting to see you so desperate and needy just to feel his touch. He wasn’t wasting time today. He needed you. And he needed you now.

“You’re needy this morning.” He purred, grin on his face as he looked down at you. You were, you had no intention of denying it. His fingers worked magic on you, teasing your entrance as he roughly attacked your neck, making you dizzy, not sure where to put your focus on.

You pressed your hands against his chest when you felt his fingers thrust into you, receiving a sharp intake of breath from you.

Fuck.

You never comprehended how his fingers alone could make you feel so good. Sometimes you prefered it. But nothing ever topped the way his tongue worked on you. The way he devoured you whole like he wanted to eat you. The way he made you sit on his face with full strength, how he almost made you faint one time from orgasming too many times just on his tongue.

Your brain was empty, only focusing on his fingers, thrusting in and out of you while his thumb circled your clit. His mouth marking your neck, leaving bunch of red marks around. He loved marking you.

“Qimi-“you failed to speak, his fingers making you see The Force itself. You were absolutely useless. Pressed against a rock as Qimir pounded into you with his thick fingers.

“Yes, darling.” He responded to your nonexistent question. Your eyes were closed, focusing only on the pleasure but you could see the stupid cocky smile he had on his lips right now. He loved seeing you so desperate, drowning in his touch.

“Fuc,” you wanted to speak but his fingers shut you up every time they moved inside of you. You were so close. You could feel his force, intensifying your pleasure, making it way harder to keep your legs steady.

“What do you want, I can’t hear you.” Jerk.

So close. You could feel it. You grabbed his hand, digging your nails into him as your legs started to shake, orgasm approaching fast.

Or it would, if Qimir didn’t move his hand away, leaving you feeling empty, unsatisfied and angry.

“What did you wanna say?” he asked, stupid grin on his face. His hair was slowly drying, few strands falling into his face. His lips plumb and pink, his chest covered on salty drops of the ocean. You wanted to eat him.

“You fuck.” You whined, shoving your hands against his chest. It only widened his smile. You ought to expect it when he grabbed your hands out of reflex, bending them to make you turn, forcing you to be face to face with the rock you were just now pressed against. Groan left your mouth out of both pain and shock, his one hand holding both of your wrists against your beck, your ass to his already leaking cock.

You tried to hold yourself against the rock as you felt his strength against you. You felt him against your ass, closing your eyes wanting nothing else than him right now. His free hand slowly moved your hair away from your back so he could trace your spine down to your ass, which he then aggressively spanked.

“You need to be more loud next time.” He ordered, pushing you against the rock one last time. His rough actions weren’t anything new to you, it often happened after a battle. Once he had you bent over against a random building, few minutes after being attacked by a group of bounty hunters.

You were powerless against him, so you decided to rest your face against the rough texture of the rock, only feeling his hand holding your wrists together.

“Tell me when to stop,” he breathed out as he brushed himself against your entrance, the water making it more difficult to see, but that didn’t stop him. You could feel him against your folds, trying to hold back a moan.

Without any warning he pushed forward, burying himself inside of you. Both of you cried out at the same time, trying to compose yourself, feeling him spreading your walls, not even halfway in yet.

“Qimir fuck.” You shout out, his hand finally leaving yours so you could hold yourself against the rock as he slowly started to push himself deeper, as much as you allowed him to. No matter how many times he used you, you never got used to the feeling of having him inside, filling you to the fullest.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he began to thrust roughly. You knew he’d leave marks on your hips based on how strongly he was gripping you, pounding into you mercilessly.

You used all your power to keep yourself standing, gripping any part of the rock, not caring about the bruising you’d be left with.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He growled, pounding into you harder, sliding in and out of you. His one hand left your hips to reach out for your hair, pulling your head back.

You felt his breath on you back as he pulled you against him, his thrusts becoming sloppier, hungrier. He was close. His chest pressed against your back, his hands finding your breasts, fondling them, not stopping abusing your g-spot.

"Qimir, please," you whispered, reaching out to hold onto something, for your legs started to feel weaker, the water splashing around with every thrust of his distracting you.

"I know," he breathed into your ear, chills travelling down your spine. Without warning, he pulled himself out of you, turning you back to him again, your back scratching against the rock. Lifting you, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he pushed himself into you again, thrusting harder than before. He leaned against the rock, his arms around your head. You ignored the pain of your back being pushed repeatedly against the rock and only focused on his cock filling you up so good, hitting all the spots you never reached yourself. Your arms wrapped around his torso, your nails leaving long marks on his back.

"Please," you begged, feeling yourself closer than before. You felt him starting to twitch inside of you, both of you so close. Two more thrust into you, he panted, feeling his climax building up inside of him. He couldn't hold back any longer, his hips bucking wildly as he came hard inside of you, filling you up with his cum. At the same time, you felt your walls contract around his thick cock, feeling him fill you up as your eyes filled with tears from the intense orgasm.

You didn't realize or hear the loud crash as Qimir pushed too hard against the rock next to your head, cracking it in half before it fell into the water, splashing the both of you with a huge wave.

Your hair was now dripping wet, curling at the ends, leaning against Qimir's chest, who tried to regain his composure. Both of you stood there for a few seconds, staring at the cracked stone lying in the water next to you.

You flinched at Qimir's arms, holding you tightly against him. He didn't bother to move and decided to stay inside of you for as long as you let him.

"Next time," you murdered, raising your head to look at him, his eyes still dark, filled with lust. "on the shore, please."

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hiiiiiii,

Can I request a Jude Bellingham imagine where you’re in the Bellingham documentary for his YouTube and it shows you behind the scenes watching his games and stuff and just being a cute couple 💓.

Thank Youuuuuu💓✨

a/n: sorry for the delay, I don't know why but it took me a while to write it. I hope you like it. Request me whatever you want!

THE ONE

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language.

summary: It’s her turn to step into the spotlight of Jude’s documentary, where unseen moments reveal the depth of their connection, exposing a side of their relationship and how much they mean for each other to the public.

The camera lens focuses, the soft hum of equipment fills the room, and she sits on their cozy, cream-colored couch. Her hands are folded nervously on her lap, her leg bouncing ever so slightly as she adjust her position, trying to find the perfect balance between comfort and confidence. Her hair falls softly around her face, and she tucks a strand behind her ear, looking up at the camera with a genuine smile. A nervous chuckle escapes her as she glances toward the crew and to him.

Jude stands just out of the frame, leaning against the wall, giving her a reassuring nod, his warm smile reaching his eyes. He mouths, "You got this," and she exhales deeply, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. His presence is comforting, just like it always is.

"Hi, I'm...well, Jude's girlfriend," she says. "But, more than that, I’m just me—someone who tries to support him, love him, and keep him grounded." Her voice is gentle, but there’s a quiet strength in it, one that suggests she's much more than just his partner.

The interviewer asks the first question, something light to ease her in. "How did you two meet?"

She smiles wider and looks down for a moment, as if reliving the memory. “We actually met through mutual friends. Super normal. I didn’t know much about football back then, but of course I was fully aware of who he was. In person, he was even more handsome and charming, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was attracted to him straight away.” She laughs at herself. “Because of that, I spent most of the night ignoring him since I was dying of embarrassment and it wasn’t until I spilled a drink on his shirt that I was able to look him in the eye to apologize, but Jude just laughed. From then on, we spent the whole night talking, even over text afterward. We got along pretty quickly, but we took things slow. I think that’s what made it work… just letting everything happen naturally.”

As she speaks, the screen fades into footage of the two of them, candid moments from Jude's life. There's a clip of them walking hand in hand, Jude glancing over at her, his face lighting up in a way that's impossible to fake. Another video shows them sitting on a couch, laughing at something on TV. Jude’s arm is casually draped around her shoulders, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her arm. The chemistry is effortless, easy.

Back in the interview, she’s asked about how their relationship has evolved with Jude’s career skyrocketing.

"Honestly, it’s been crazy," she admits. "His schedule is intense, and sometimes we’re apart for long stretches. But we’ve always made it a priority to stay connected. We FaceTime all the time, even if it’s just to say goodnight. And when he’s home, we make sure to enjoy the little things—going on walks, cooking together, just spending time. Those are the moments that matter most."

Suddenly, Jude’s voice breaks in from off-camera, clearly teasing her. “Yeah, well burning food doesn’t count as cooking, love.”

She laughs, shaking her head, the sound of his voice immediately softening her expression. “He’s talking about his abilities,” she replies with a grin. The off-screen laughter from the crew adds to the playful atmosphere.

The next part of the interview focuses on her relationship with Jude’s family, something that’s been a big part of his life. Clips play of her with Jude’s younger brother, Jobe, during a family dinner. They’re joking around, Jobe and her teasing Jude and him complaining about their alliance. Another clip shows her talking to Jobe who’s clearly comfortable with her, and at one point, she playfully nudges him, making everyone laugh. Then, she’s shown with Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, during a relaxed family gathering. She’s sitting next to Denise, the two of them talking and laughing as if they’ve known each other forever. The bond is clear—she fits into the family seamlessly, not as an outsider, but as someone who belongs.

"Jobe is like a little brother to me," she says with a smile when asked about him. "He’s such a good kid, and we’re always joking around. It’s just easy with him. And Jude’s parents... they’re honestly the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Denise is like a second mom to me. She’s always checking in, making sure I’m okay, especially when Jude’s away. And Mark, well... he’s the kind of dad who always has a story to tell and advice to give, whether you ask for it or not,” she adds with a laugh. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

Cut to a heartwarming montage of family moments: Jude’s girlfriend and Jobe playing video games, both of them laughing uncontrollably as Jude looks on from the side, shaking his head. Another clip shows her helping Denise in the kitchen, the two of them sharing a peaceful, easy rapport, with Mark chiming in from the dining room, to help them.

“They are awesome.”

The screen cuts to a new video clip of Jude talking directly to the camera in a different segment of the documentary. He’s sitting outside on a patio, the sun glinting off his face as he reflects.

"My mom told me pretty early on that she thought she was the one," Jude says, nodding slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "She said she just knew. And I trust my mom’s instincts more than anyone else’s. Honestly, I think I knew too, but hearing it from her made me super sure."

The scene shifts again, showing a playful clip of Jude and her from one of their trips. They’re by the beach, Jude holding the camera as they walk barefoot in the sand. He’s joking, trying to push her toward the water while she protests, laughing and running away. They tease each other endlessly, but the affection is obvious. Every touch, every glance, speaks volumes.

Back in the interview, Jude’s voice is heard once more, this time in a more serious tone. “She’s my rock,” he says. “People always ask me how I stay grounded, how I handle everything, and it’s her. She’s the one who keeps me steady when things get overwhelming.”

Her eyes soften as she listens to the interviewer words. "He said that?” She asks, blushing a little as the one holding the camera nods. “Well, I think we’re a team. We support each other through everything. When he's having a tough day, I’m there for him. And when I'm struggling, he’s always the first to lift me up."

The interviewer gives a knowing nod, then shifts the tone to something more playful. "Now, we’ve seen some fun clips of you two together, but who’s the bigger tease in the relationship?"

Her eyes widen slightly as she chuckles. "Oh, I know he’s going to say it’s him, but i’s definitely me. I love to tease him. He gets this little furrowed brow, and I just can’t help myself."

Another video plays, this time a candid clip of them in the living room. Jude is trying to explain some football tactic using salt shakers and a pepper grinder as players, while she watches him with an amused smile. Suddenly, she moves one of the shakers, to condiment her food, completely messing up his demonstration, and bursts into laughter when he groans dramatically, head in his hands.

Back in the interview, she shrugs innocently. "He takes it well, though. He’s a good sport about it."

Jude’s voice cuts in again. "Barely."

She bursts out laughing, shaking her head. "See? Always listening in."

The documentary closes with one last video—Jude and her sitting on the couch, his arm around her once more as they scroll through pictures on his phone. They’re laughing, teasing each other about the awkward photos, and then he pulls her close, kissing the top of her head. It’s a simple, intimate moment, but it says everything.

As the video is about to finish, she’s seen asleep in his arms and Jude’s voice comes through one last time. He looks at the camera with a smirk and whispers “Yeah... she’s the one.”

[darkst4lker]

detention // remus lupin.

professor!lupin x fem!reader

plot: on your last day of sixth year, you get detention with professor lupin, developing a huge crush on him since then. two years later, you graduated from hogwarts and were invited to join the order of phoenix by the weasley twins, so you arrive at the black family house where you've been provided with a place to stay by the order after recently being kicked out of your home. is then when you discovered that you would have to live under the same roof not only with sirius, but also with your big crush from years ago, remus lupin.

tw: professor x ex-student, nothing inappropriate happened when y/n was a minor, like a huge age gap (reader is 19, almost 20), mostly romance/fluff i guess, a little angst, mentions of the reader being a slytherin, reader is friends with the twins but she's older than them by a year, mentions of smoking, sirius black being sirius black it's his own warning, low caps on purpose.

notes: english is not my first language, thank you for the support on the other one-shots!!! ALSO HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! ♡♡ xoxo.

ps: i wrote this listening to speak now (the whole album) by taylor swift and it was an INTENSE experience.

it was your last day of sixth year and you couldn't believe that your last hours before dinner and taking the train were going to be spent on remus lupin office. now you really regretted following the twin's ideas for once.

in your eyes it was an innocent last-day-of-school prank, but it ended up in you three accidentally setting the whopping willow aflame for like twenty seconds before the three of you managed to stop the fire. yet, professor snape was the one to see the whole sequence of events, meaning he was completely livid and not so forgiving as others professors could be so he sent you and the twins straight to detention.

and that's how you ended up in professor lupin empty classroom, in detention, for three hours. of course snape separated you from the twins, so not only you were going to be sitting in one of the classroom benches for a long time, you were also alone.

remus was finishing getting some papers in order as he supervised you, and you sat quietly in the front row, completely bored as you looked at what he was doing to entertain yourself. in one moment, his eyes went to you, noticing your clearly irritated face.

the moment snape appeared in his door grabbing you and made him take care of your detention time (only to put more work on him last minute, he believed) you made him remember the times he used to do the same stupid shit with sirius, james and peter.

so, for the sake of the old times and the fact this was the last day of school, he decided to make your detention a little bit more entertaining.

“miss (l/n).” he called you, his voice calm as always.

“professor lupin.” you answered, still irritated but with the energy to speak ironically.

“what were you trying to do with the twins?” remus asked you, a subtle smile on his lips. he was looking at his work while he talked to you.

“when?” you answered smiling, trying to play dumb because the fact that the prank went terribly wrong embarrassed the hell out of you.

remus stopped organizing his paperwork as he raised his eyes from his work to give you a serious “don't pretend you don't understand” look, making you sigh in redemption.

“okay, im sorry professor, stop looking at me like that. it frightens me a bit.” you admitted as you rolled your eyes. “we were trying to set fireworks that were meant to activate when everyone went outside to take the carriages.”

his eyes relaxed when he got and answer and he continued with his work. he seemed to be just minutes away to finishing with his paperwork, though.

“you know, when i was your age i did the same kind of things with my friends.” remus said, chuckling a bit.

“no way.” you answered, clearly in disbelief. remus looked at you smiling softly for a moment.

“i swear” he added, and you instantly laughed.

“for merlin's sake!” you exclaimed, enjoying his confession and now feeling less alone than before. “the mysterious and innocent looking professor lupin ended up being a troublemaker, who could have guessed it?” you said, laughing.

he smiled as you laughed, still working on his papers.

“mysterious?” remus asked, an eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“y'know, what the other girls always say about you.” you added, trying to reference the constant things you heard from your classmates. “that you're mysterious because of your-... y'know.” you pointed at your face to reference his scars with all the delicacy you had. being a slytherin didn't helped a lot with having much tact, but for remus you tried. remus on the other hand, was usually uncomfortable with his scars but it warmed his heart a little that his students didn't think his face was completely unpleasant, as he did.

“they also say that you appear to be sweet and kind” you kept enlisting what you always heard, things that you also thought. things, that you firmly believed he didn't needed to know you thought. “and of course what i consider a classic at this point: that you're beautiful.” you ended up, a little smile on your lips.

remus stayed silent for a second before answering. a yawn scaped your lips as you were really tired. the whole thing with snape scolding you and the twins into oblivion had left you exahusted, yet you guessed remus wouldn't let you sleep on detention.

“those are all the things they say about me?” he asked, calmly. his apparently soft lips giving you a warm smile. somehow inside your chest you knew he wasn't as pure as he appeared.

in your eyes, remus had the look of a wounded man who couldn't afford to be innocent because he was already rotting since long ago, his soul marked with the kiss of something beautiful enough to torture a man.

there had to be a reason for the way this man was always looking like he knew something you didn't.

“yes. i think all the girls have a crush on you.” you said, answering his question like if your mind wasn't lingering on the way his fingers moved while manipulating every paper in his desk. that's what finally made you realize that in some point you were included in the affirmation you said, because remus lupin was too kind with everyone for you to handle it properly.

yet, you thought it was natural for you to develop a crush when this man guided your hand with his in class and whispered sweet instructions in your ear when he picked you to make a demonstration. i mean, who would not feel butterflies around him was the right question.

“i never noticed.” he lied, because in fact he did noticed, but it was fun to have someone gossiping with him about the class rumours. not that remus specifically enjoyed them though, but sometimes he felt like a gossip when discussing with, for example, minerva about all the things other students commented about him.

and right now, you were the one making him feel like a gossip. he honestly believed that you were his funniest student but also the most oblivious one.

oblivious, because you truly believed he didn't noticed you were one of the girls crushing on him too.

you smiled at remus, looking at him for a moment. you were aware that he probably lied about not noticing what the girls commented of him. he had this delicate demeanor in his face features that you couldn't fully explain, even if his skin was full of scars.

and every single one of those scars felt like a whole mistery waiting for you to solve. what you didn't knew yet, was that his scars were a prophecy of his damnation.

“i thought every teacher noticed.” you stated, smiling tiredly at him. as your thoughts became a little cloudy, you could notice that you were about to fall asleep, so you felt like you had to ask remus if you could rest a moment, or at least warn him. “professor lupin” you called him.

“yes, (y/n)?” remus answered, using your name. a chuckle settled in his lips as he used the same ironic tone you used earlier when he called your name.

maybe it was the fact that you were sixteen at the time, and your hormones were crazy or the way you suddenly started struggling to stay awake, but something in the way your name came out of his lips made you feel like you had a cloud of furious butterflies inside your body, eager to come out of you. his voice made your name sound so elegant that every letter curled in your guts and twisted your heart like a siren call straight from the deepest ocean.

a subtle blush settled on your cheeks, and you took a deep breath as you noticed how his smell was all over the classroom: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. autumn.

being in sixth grade meant that the amortentia was on your class program, and after some time alone with professor lupin, you quickly connected the dots of what was exactly the scent you smelt that one time snape put a calderon full of amortentia in front of your class and asked what was it.

yet you were getting too sleepy to deal with the huge crush you just realized you had with remus lupin in that moment. « i'll handle it next year » you thought, like if he wasn't in your amortentia scent, before finally answering him.

“nothing, i was just going to ask if it would be possible for me to take a quick nap here” you asked him, smiling clearly tired. “please professor lupin, snape exahusted the hell out of me.” you added, as if the plea would do something to help your case.

remus looked at you clearly trying not to laugh at the things you said. if you only knew he detested him just as you did, and that he always got exahusted from dealing with severus too.

he let out a deep breath before answering.

“go ahead. you do seem tired.” he said, having a little mercy on you. “i'll wake you when detention it's over.” remus added, now having finished with his paperwork and opening a book he had in his desk. it was the last day of school, and he felt like you deserved a little of good will from him.

you rested your head on your arms against the bench, closing your eyes softly.

“thank you professor, that's why you're my favourite.” you said, finally letting the sleep trap you in his arms.

remus watched over your dreams with the affection only him could possess. the sweetness he lacked as a wolf, he had it as a human.

so, when you had sleep over almost all your detention time, remus stood up from his desk chair and walked over you to finally woke you from your well deserved nap, fifteen minutes before dinner.

“y/n” he said, calmly. “y/n” he repeated.

you opened your eyes, moved your head a bit and looked up at him, standing up in front of you.

“good evening, professor.” your answer came out sleepy, pieces of your dreams lingering on your body.

“good evening, y/n.” he smiled at you from above. “here, take this.” remus said, placing a piece of chocolate in your bench, next to your head. “it'll wake you up a little.”

you didn't answer, as you were still trying to keep your eyes open.

“i need to get all these papers to my office, please leave the classroom door closed when you go to the great hall” he added, ruffling your hair with kindness before grabbing a pile of papers on his desk and leaving you alone in the classroom with the piece of chocolate as his only remain.

when you were awake enough, in the solitude of the classroom, you ate the chocolate piece and left, too excited and flustered with what just happened to remember that you had to leave the class door closed.

after that day you went home, spent your vacations there until your seventh year started, and when you got to hogwarts and dumbledore announced that your new professor of defense against dark arts was going to be alastor moody, your stomach dropped to your feet in deception.

that was the exact moment you damned your sleepy ass and how you thought you could do something about your crush «next year». you couldn't. you wouldn't.

and the worst part is that you knew that even if remus were there, nothing would have ever happen. he was a good man, and you were just a stupid girl thinking you stood a single chance with him. or maybe not, but still you wanted to see him every day again if it was possible.

the first night of your seventh year you cried like a heartbroken girl in your bed because you thought you wouldn't see remus again, and none of your dorm mates knew what happened to you or how they could help.

the only ones who knew what was happening to you were fred and george, because they were your best friends, and even if they did everything to make you feel better you were still crying for weeks like if someone had died.

and, being aware that harry potter surely would know what happened with lupin, the twins borderline interrogated him for days until he spilled out what he knew. so fred and george came back to you with the whole story: lupin was a werewolf and he had to quit because snape sniched on him with the students parents. obviously, you scolded them because harry had enough to think about with someone slipping his name into the goblet of fire but you were extremely grateful, and now you had an excuse to murder snape.

yet, you also had an answer to all the questions you had about remus. why his face was full of scars, why he looked so emotionally wounded, why he always seemed to know something you didn't, why he disappeared once per month. he was a werewolf.

so, settling with the fact that you would probably never hear of him again you kept your broken heart and your silly little crush in a box, graduated from hogwarts and went home. until one day, an owl with a letter woke you up early in the morning crashing into your window. you recognized fred's messy calligraphy.

« dear (y/n):

well that sounded awful. anyways, how is it going? be kind enough to write us a letter one of these days, we've been missing you.

since you're sooo good doing crazy shit with your wand (almost like us) me and george fred george recommended you to our parents for a little organization that's starting to rise again. we cannot explain more since y'know, the ministry is intercepting owls like crazy.

please come on september 9th at night to 12 grimmauld place. don't use flu. or maybe just come to our house first and we can take you there. yes, that's it, come to our home and we'll go together to grimmauld place.

we expect a letter to confirm your answer. or maybe just a letter telling us about you. please write us we're desperate!! and we miss you!!

ps: lupin will be there ;) SO SAY YES!!

sincerely yours,

fred george george and fred fred and george weasley »

you laughed at the whole letter, and when you read about remus being there, you decided to do what they asked you. you quickly wrote an answer and sent the owl back to them saying yes, but your parents ended up finding their letter.

your parents weren't the most tolerant people, being wizards with an opulent life and purist ideas just like the malfoys, so of course they weren't happy about you receiving a letter not from one but two weasleys. and for once you stood up to fight them back, confessing you planned to go with your friends.

that was the last straw, and days before of what fred and george stated, you were in their front door because your parents kicked you out of home with promises of disinherit you. you were a blood traitor on their eyes now.

the weasleys kindly received you and finally explained for what organization they were trying to recruit you: the order of the phoenix.

you agreed to join gladly, out of rage for your parents ideals and out of impotence because you openly believed what harry said: voldemort was back.

and, just as fred and george promised, on september 9th everyone went to grimmauld place, you included. it was a shiny full moon night and when you and the weasleys stood in front of the door, for a second you wondered if remus was okay. if his transformations were painful, if he was going to be comforted after.

when you got inside the house, the weasleys revealed to you that the plan was for you to stay at grimmauld place, and keep sirius black (who you recently found out that was an innocent) company the most part of the year. you were told that everyone would pass from time to time and that remus was probably going to be staying there the most of the time too.

so, you met sirius, who guided you to his deseaced mother's room and told you to leave your things there since you were going to be living there full time. you settled up and after a lovely dinner that molly prepared, you officially joined the order.

it almost felt like a fever dream, days ago you were at your parents house, and now you were joining a resistance and just hours away from seeing remus lupin again. a part of you was excited and other was scared of falling in love with him, heartbeat going crazy just at the idea of sharing a home with him.

you went to bed in the middle of a haze, the sheets embraced you with tenderness as you closed your eyes and the fatigue of all the events clouding your life catched up with you. you had a dreamless sleep until a scream suddenly waked you.

you didn't found time to change as you got out of bed almost running, worried that something had happened. yet, the moment you went down the stairs you saw arthur, sirius, moody and molly (who was clearly agitated and you guessed she was also the one who screamed) looking at someone laying in the sofa of the living room.

it was late for you to go back unnoticed, as sirius instantly saw you.

“(y/n)” he said, tenderly. “i apologize if we woke you.”

you didn't answered because in the exact moment he talked to you, arthur moved from his place and you saw the face you never thought you would ever see again.

remus layed on the sofa, his face was extremely pale and full of scraches, he had a nasty wound on his chest and in general, he looked sick. molly was helping to treat the deep cut on his chest and you quickly realized that was probably what made her scream.

you looked at sirius, your expression soaked in concern for remus state. it was almost unrealistic seeing him like this but you finally understood the violence involved in being cursed by the moon.

it was the first time you saw him in two years but your eyes couldn't fully believe what they were seeing. the one you adored so much in deep secret, was injured and almost unconscious.

a part of you knew you didn't had to seem extremely worried if you intended to keep your secret, but it was hard for you to restrain your feelings.

“is he-...” you doubted before the words escaped your lips. “is he going to be alright?”

no one but sirius payed attention to your presence as they were focused on remus. he looked at you with reassurance as you stood on the doorframe.

“yes, yes. do not worry, he has been worse.” sirius answered, giving you a calm smile. “go back to sleep, tomorrow it's going to be a long day and we'll have a meeting.” he added, as his attention went back to remus.

your feet refused to move for a couple of seconds and just when you were about to turn back and go to bed, remus eyes met yours. his gaze subtly widened and you felt like a deer in lights, provoking you to almost run upstairs just the way you did a couple minutes ago.

but as you left, remus felt ashamed of himself. after not seeing you for so long, suddenly now you knew what he was, who he was. what the beast inside of him provoked every full moon.

at the same time everyone treated his wounds, trying to make him feel better, in his mind he cursed his lycanthropy. remus couldn't help but feel like a constant burden, a beast who had to be kept captive.

as a couple of days went by, you didn't saw remus at all. molly insisted on him resting some days in bed since he was injured and his transformation had been quite violent so you only heard the news that she or sirius brought back of remus state when they went to check on him.

until one night you couldn't sleep, and you decided to go downstairs for a cup of tea. you tried to be silent as you got out of your room in your pajamas and went to the kitchen.

but oblivious as you always were, you didn't noticed that as you prepared your tea, your back facing the doorframe, someone else was also getting into the kitchen but with the intention to get a coffee.

“good evening, miss (l/n)” you jumped back as the teasing voice of remus lupin scared you, making you drop a bit of tea over the counter.

“shit-... prof- sorry-...” you said, surprised and nervous. the words struggled to find an order while coming out of your lips but you realized in time that remus wasn't you professor anymore and that he was probably joking.

the way he said your last name scratched your brain in a oddly specific way. or well, everything he said had that effect on you.

“im sorry, i didn't meant to-...” remus started to say but you interrupted his words, turning to face him.

“don't worry it's okay, i didn't thought someone else would be awake.” you answered, smiling at him.

the moment you looked at him you noticed that remus had the same loving and sweet gaze he had two years ago. all this time you believed that you may had been delusional about your crush over him, that maybe you had set a extremely high standard or that this was all a product of the idealized remus you had on your brain, but no.

as you saw him standing there, a comfortable brown sweater on his body and his now healed scratches on his face you realized that the man you've been crushing on was as wounded and broken as you once remembered. the same tender look on his eyes being a constant reminder of the cruelty of his destiny at the hands of the moonlight.

“you can call me remus, by the way.” he clarified, smiling at you and you nodded.

“remus... sounds good. better than professor lupin.” your answer was a little bold but you felt relief when he chuckled. “so, what are you doing here this late?” you asked as the cup of tea went to your lips and you took a sip, testing the temperature.

“i could ask you the same, you know?” remus smiled as he walked closer to the counter, meaning he was closer to you too. “i was craving coffee, and since the days after the full moon i can never sleep, a night coffee it seemed like a good idea.” he added, as he started preparing one. “also this is the only place in the house where molly allows me to smoke.” he said whispering playful like if he was telling you a secret.

then you gave a quick look at the ceiling and noticed that had some stains. stains caused by the cigarette smoke, you guessed.

you smiled at him and took another sip of your tea.

“are you feeling better, then?” you finally asked him, curious and nervous. the question had been repressed in your chest for a couple of days.

“well, sirius and molly took good care of me.” remus said, still preparing his coffee. “i feel a little numb this time, though. it was more intense than usually.”

“i was a bit worried.” you admitted, looking at his hot coffee on the counter, and then directing your eyes to his.

“i know, i saw you. and i heard you.” he answered, now grabbing a cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “i thought you were scared of me, by the way you ran upstairs when i looked at you.” remus smiled a bit while speaking, but it became a melancholic smile when he said those last sentences. then he put he cigarette on his lips like a tender death kiss.

you realized how he was probably insecure about his nature. for him, a death omen. but for you, it felt like the moon loved him so much she needed to have him for herself once a month. but it was a exhausting love, the kind of love that consumes you to the core of your being and hurts your soul.

yet you wondered what kind of love remus had to offer, and if he indeed had feelings for someone inside his chest, who would be the one blessed with remus love.

when remus lighted the cigarette, he took a deep drag and released the smoke with a certain elegance that you couldn't explain.

“no, i could never-...” you stopped yourself from saying something you would probably regret. “i wasn't scared, i was embarrassed. i thought i was being intrusive. it was one hell of a entrance after not seeing you for two years, though.”

he smiled at you, more relaxed than before as he leant against the kitchen counter. the hand that didn't held the cigarette was now grabbing his coffee and your eyes quickly made their way to his fingers against the cup. you felt like you were sixteen again, looking at his hands.

when he answered your gaze found his again.

“you're right, it's been a long time.” remus took a sip of his coffee. “i hope you didn't got in much trouble after i left.”

“i became a bit worse.” you admitted. then your lips kept moving, saying things you didn't thought you would ever admit. “i used to have a crush on you, back in hogwarts. i was sad when you left.”

remus smirked, the cigarette separating from his lips before he responded.

“i know, the twins told me some weeks ago, before one of the meetings.” he confessed, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “they said you cried.”

a deep blush crept into your cheeks, and a intense feeling of embarrassment settled in your stomach. you left the tea on the counter, and covered your face.

“oh for merlin's sake, i can't believe they told you.” your hands left your face and you stared at the floor for a second.

“if it makes you feel better, i already knew.” remus said, finishing his cigarette.

you stared at him in disbelief.

“since when?” you asked, feeling like you could die of embarrassment.

“since the day you had detention with me.” he answered, calmly. “it is true? you cried?” remus curiosity won over him.

you sighed, defeated.

“yes, i cried.” your words were shy, but then you became a little confident. “fred and george told me snape was the one that made you quit, so he became my pranks target and i got a lot of detention time.”

remus laughed, and that made you blush even more and your heartbeat raised to the ceiling. he finished his coffee and spoke.

“i pity him, i wouldn't dare to provoke the rage of a young woman.” remus answered. “even less yours.”

“why-...?” you were about to grab your cup of tea again as you responded but his hand moved to the kitchen counter counter in that exact moment, meeting your hand with his.

when your hands touched, it felt like a shock of electricity running through your whole body. you instantly pulled back from his contact, looking at the floor.

feeling like you had your heart stuck in your throat, an inevitable realization came to you like a rush of adrenaline. you were too far gone for this to be only a crush. you've spent two years loving him endlessly, and now that you were with him you could only wonder if you would've kept loving remus like this if the twins hadn't recruited you, and he weren't beside you in this exact moment.

the typical boldness that layed on your chest had left you for a moment and you needed to take a deep breath. when the words came to you, they were far more brave that you could ever imagine.

“what if this crush never faded?” your voice trembled for a second. “what if it became worse?”

remus sighed and took his hand to your chin and forced you to look a him in the eyes in a sweet gesture.

“we can't, i'm too old for you.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“i never cared about that.” you answered in a heartbeat.

“well, i do care. it's not only the age, it's-...” he made a brief pause. “i'm dangerous, (y/n). im not good for you at all.”

“i don't care, remus. i'm not scared of you.” you moved closer, you could be in front of him.

remus was taller than you, a detail that never failed to make you weak before him. you looked up at his eyes.

“you don't even know me properly.” his voice sounded a bit shaky.

“i never thought i did, yet i always had the desire to do so.” everything he had to said, you've already had thought an argument ages ago thinking of all the things he could say if this situation happened.

and you never thought it would, but luckily the gods or whatever above heard the constant plea of your heart.

“i can't keep a job because i'm a werewolf, (y/n) please think of what you're saying for a second-...” you interrupted him.

“you could say your face will turn green every night and i wouldn't care. please, just give me one chance.” you said, almost in a whisper. a sweet plea for him to spare your heart.

remus thought you were a beautiful woman, brave, ambitious and oddly astute. an intelligence made for chaos and not exactly for books, but he knew better than to ruin you and in his eyes just even trying to date you would feel like setting on fire to your promising life.

he was a monster, fearful that his lycanthropy could hurt you or affect you forever, not to mention he was frightened that his children could end up being cursed like him.

but then he looked at you, so willing to have him, so in love and he felt his heart melting.

maybe you could try, right? just a try.

“i-...” remus began to say. “i think we can try.”

you sighed in relief as you got closer to him, your chest almost touching his.

his smell clouded your mind the same way it did years ago and you knew in your insides that if you someone put amortentia in fron of you, you would feel his scent as you once did: chocolate, parchment, coffee, old book pages. the smell of autumn itself.

his eyes, his voice, his smell, all of him provoked your chest to feel like it was about to explode, enchanting your mind like if some sort of love spell was being casted on your soul.

and now, he was yours. all yours.

one of your wildest dreams came true, and you knew your heart needed to seal the moment the best way you could. there was a gift, an offering to be made at the altar of your love.

there was something you never dared to give anyone else before, because no man was like him.

“you know, i saved something special for a moment like this.” the confession came out of your lips as you grabbed his face to lure him like a beautiful nymph and make him lean into your direction.

and even if he didn't say anything. your words hit remus straight on the face, twisting his guts and he just couldn't believe how nervous he was.

when his eyes looked at you as you grabbed his face and got closer, to him you looked divine just as a superior being could be.

in the moment you kissed him, it was a sweet kiss that made remus shiver from head to toe and take his hands to your waist almost like if you were made of glass.

the first time you kissed someone and it was him. it felt like you were putting a blessing on his soul, fixing even if it was just fo a second, the damage of his eternal curse.

remus wondered if he was the one who would fell in love deeper, noticing the control you had over him just with a kiss, how he suddenly could fall to his knees if you asked.

the soft exchange between your lips ended when a voice interrupted you both.

“for merlin's beard, moony.” sirius voice spoke from the doorframe. as remus avoided his look ashamed, you looked at him a bit irritated for interrupting. “don't look at me like that, (y/n). i didn't expected to find people kissing inside my kitchen when i came here to drink water.” he smirked, mocking you both

after a couple of seconds you laughed at his words, and remus followed you. the first fifteen minutes into this uncommon thing you had and you were already laughing at sirius together.

remus felt relieved and for a moment he believed that any difficulties you could have, you'll both be able to work it out together.

maybe it didn't matter if he was a werewolf or if you were this younger, or if he was frightened to hurt you.

because maybe remus wasn't as cursed as he thought.

i hope you enjoyed this, i spent DAYS writing it and im glad i got to release it for halloween!!! xoxo.

[sunny44]

Bye bye binky!!

Pairing: Lando Norris x Mom!Fem! Reader

Warnings: none I guess and English is not my first language

Summary: You and Lando are trying to get rid of your daughter’s binky.

The Norris household was in constant motion as always. Lyla, at two years old, was a curious and energetic child, always running from one side to the other, dragging her toys and, of course, her inseparable pacifier.

For Lando and me, the mission to get her to stop using the pacifier was becoming a saga.

Lando was sitting at the kitchen table, looking pensively at a list of methods we had thought of.

“What else can we try? It seems like we’ve done everything.”

I stopped washing the dishes and sighed, looking at him.

“I think we’ve tried all the possible advice. Let’s review?” Lando picked up the list and started reading.

“First, we tried the pacifier fairy approach.”

The Pacifier Fairy

One quiet night, Lyla was getting ready for bed. I sat next to her with a storybook.

“Lyla, did you know there’s a pacifier fairy?” I said excitedly as she looked at me curiously.

“A pacifier fairy?”

“Yes,” I replied. “She visits big boys and girls and takes their pacifiers to babies who need them. In return, she leaves a special gift.”

Lyla’s eyes sparkled. “A gift?”

“That’s right. How about leaving your pacifier under the pillow tonight?”

Lyla hesitated but ended up placing the pacifier under the pillow. The next morning, she found a small new toy in place of the pacifier, but the magic didn’t last. When night came, Lyla cried for the pacifier, and Lando and I ended up giving it back to her.

The Reward Calendar

The second attempt involved a colorful calendar on the fridge. Each day Lyla went without the pacifier, she would get a star sticker. After a week, she would get a big prize.

“Lyla, look how many stars you’ve already earned!” Lando said, pointing to the calendar.

Lyla smiled proudly.

“Wow, and o get a prize?”

“Yes, if you keep it up!” I replied, excited.

But halfway through the week, Lyla had a crying fit so intense that we had to give in again, giving her the pacifier.

The Substitution

Trying a new method, we decided to buy several toys and stuffed animals to offer as new comfort items for her.

“Look, Lyla, a new teddy bear!” I said, showing the brown teddy bear.

Lyla took the teddy bear but quickly dropped it and went back to the pacifier.

“I want my binky, Mommy.”

We tried various different toys, but nothing seemed to offer the same comfort as the pacifier for Lyla.

The Gradual Approach

We decided to adopt a gradual approach.

“Let’s limit the use of the pacifier to just bedtime,” suggested Lando.

“Good idea,” I agreed. “That way, she can get used to it slowly.”

During the day, we put the pacifier away and distracted Lyla with games and activities. However, each night, the separation was met with tears and whining. Once again, we found ourselves giving the pacifier to calm her down.

The Distraction Tactic

The last attempt involved constant distractions. Whenever Lyla asked for the pacifier, we offered some fun activity.

“Let’s paint a picture, Lyla?” I suggested, holding a set of watercolors.

For a while, this worked, but Lyla soon began to insist on the pacifier, even in the middle of activities.

Lando sighed as he finished reading the list.

“None of this worked.”

I approached him, placing my hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time to try something new. Something that will really make Lyla want to say goodbye to the pacifier on her own.”

And that’s how we came up with the balloon idea. The hope was that by turning the farewell into a celebration, Lyla would better accept the change. With a final sigh of determination, Lando and I prepared for the final attempt.

“Tomorrow morning I’ll go out to buy donuts for breakfast, which she loves, and the balloon. Then we’ll do it,” Lando said, and I agreed, finishing organizing the kitchen so we could go to bed.

…

The morning sun lit up our house, and the day was perfect for a celebration. Lando and I were sitting on the floor, surrounded by toys and building blocks. Lyla was beside us, firmly holding her pacifier. We had already planned everything. I arranged the donuts on a tray so that when she let go and the pacifier was gone, she would have something she loved to eat and perhaps help her forget.

“Lyla, look!” Lando said, kneeling beside our daughter. “How about we send your binky to the sky? So it can travel around and see new places.”

Lyla looked at the balloon and then at the pacifier, holding it even tighter.

“Daddy, I like my binky.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Lando replied softly, stroking Lyla’s hair. “But you’re a big girl now. And big girls don’t need a binky, right? Besides, it’ll be so much fun to watch the balloon fly!”

Lyla hesitated, but the idea of seeing the balloon rise seemed interesting. Finally, she let go of the pacifier and allowed Lando to tie it to the balloon. Lando handed the balloon to Lyla and smiled.

“Ready to let go, Lyla?” Lyla held the balloon with both hands, her eyes fixed on it.

“Ready.”

With one last look of hesitation, she let go of the balloon. We watched as it slowly rose higher and higher into the blue sky. For a moment, everything seemed fine, but then Lyla looked like she was about to cry—we could see her lips trembling. But then Lando and I started jumping and shouting with joy.

“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” shouted Lando, raising his arms.

“You did it, Lyla! How amazing!” I shouted, clapping.

Lyla looked at her parents, surprised by their reaction. Slowly, a smile began to form on her face. She stood up and started jumping too, imitating her parents.

“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” she repeated, laughing.

We continued to jump and laugh together, our joy spreading to Lyla. Gradually, she forgot about the pacifier and focused on the fun of the moment.

After a few minutes, we stopped to catch our breath, still laughing. Lando picked Lyla up and hugged her.

“I’m so proud of you, Lyla. You are very brave.” I joined the hug, kissing Lyla’s forehead.

“You did something amazing today, sweetheart. We are very happy.”

Lyla smiled, feeling proud.

“Does this mean I’m a big girl now?”

“Yes, you are,” Lando agreed, stroking her head.

After a few minutes, we went inside to eat the donuts and celebrate that we had finally said goodbye to the pacifier.

Bonus scene!

Landonorris instagram stories

“Bye Bye Lyla’s binky”

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation of Love.

Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader

Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: fem!reader. mentions of crime and serial killers. established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).

Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.

The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.

You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.

At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.

“What's going on here?”

The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.

“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.

Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.

“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.

For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”

Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.

“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.

“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.

“Since when do you take cases like this?”

“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”

The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.

“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”

Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”

His brow furrowed again.

He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.

“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.

“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”

“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.

That was the man you know and love.

“Me too, it's my job.”

“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.

What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.

You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.

“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”

As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.

“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”

“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”

Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.

“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”

“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”

The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.

“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”

“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.

“Give me the evidence then, love.”

Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.

“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.

At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”

“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”

“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.

After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.

And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.

[elllisaaa]

CONNECTED - BANGCHAN

KINKTOBER DAY 5 - BREEDING

SUMMARY : you've been nothing but a good girl to him lately, even watching over his niece when his sister visited him by surprise. and it awakened an urge in him. maybe your relationship is more than what chan pretends it is.

-> pairing : sugar daddy!chan x fem!reader

-> words count : 2k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!chan x sub!reader, breeding kink (obviously), creampie, unprotected sex, sprinkle of angst, dirty talk, spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, use of 'good girl', praising, begging, teasing, rough sex

+ the way i'm depicting chan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024

When Chan asked you to come spend the weekend at his place, he didn’t think he would find himself trapped with his sister and her two kids coming over. You were actually in the middle of a quite intense make out session, with you sitting on his lap on the couch, when someone rang the front door bell. And he had no choice but to open the door when he heard Hannah’s voice calling for him from the outside. Chan had apologized at least ten times to you already for the embarrassing situation he put you in - having to explain to his sister that you were just friends wasn’t the most agreeable moment of your life, especially since she must have guessed it wasn’t true. 

She asked for you to stay with them, and even though her intentions were probably good, it made it all very uncomfortable for you. Hannah must have thought that you were Chan’s girlfriend despite the age difference, but of course, she couldn’t guess that he was in fact your sugar daddy. It had started almost nine months ago, when you met Chan at the bar you were working at. That night, he came in alone and he looked sad, so since it was a quiet night, you took some time to talk with him. And when he left, he handed you a tip that could have covered your rent for three months at least, along with his number if you wanted to chat again. It was not long after that he proposed to give you money in exchange for the two of you meeting weekly to talk. 

And at the beginning, you must admit that you were purely interested in his money - it was only the cherry on top that Chan was crazy handsome and that your conversations were pretty interesting too. But as time went on, he became so much more than just a man paying you to discuss with him. He started to give you more and more gifts, and you started to feel way more for him than what your relationship wanted the two of you to be. It all changed when you went out to a bar together, and came back to his place completely wasted. That was the first time you ever fucked with him, and it hadn’t stopped until then. And honestly, you coulnd’t ask for more - you had an attractive, rich man, paying you for spending time with him and gifting you all sorts of things, and he was also fucking you like a queen, treating you like a queen. Well, there was actually something more that you wanted but you knew it was impossible, knew you couldn’t have it. 

“- Tom ! Layla ! We’re leaving, come here !”

Hannah’s two kids that you had been playing with for an hour clinged to you as they refused to go back to their mother, and if she watched the scene pretty amused, Chan had something else swirling in his eyes. Seeing you be so affectionate, be so natural at taking care of childrens had him thinking about things he shouldn’t, about making you his wife and the mother of his own kids when you weren’t even his girlfriend. And you were still so young, you still had so much to live before getting trapped in a relationship like this, before committing to life, especially to him. You couldn’t feel the same, but as you looked at him with a bright smile, his niece and nephew refusing to let you go, his heart beat faster when he dreamt about it being the sight he could wake up to every morning. 

“- What came over you Channie ?

- Nothing, I just need you. Right now.”

You didn’t protest much more, letting him pin you down to his mattress and explore your whole body with his hands. His lips were demanding and rough against yours, but you loved it when he was a little more harsh, when he stopped being so worried about hurting you. Though, you didn’t quite understand what snapped for him to drag you upstairs as soon as his sister left. Maybe it was only because he was frustrated of having been interrupted earlier, but it felt like it was something else, like there was something more. 

“- On your knees, head in the pillow. I wanna see your pretty ass when I fuck you.”

You didn’t say anything, once again, and simply obeyed and turned around to position yourself like he had asked you to. Chan’s hand immediately landed on your cheeks, forcing a pained moan out of you. He practically ripped your pants off of you, along with your underwear, and this time he slapped your pussy, your body lurching forward and if it wasn’t for the strong grip he had around your waist, you would’ve collapsed on the bed. 

“- Always so wet for me, fuck…”

His deep, raspy voice whispering dirty things behind you had you clenching around nothing, and Chan was quick to notice it as his eyes were still glued onto your pussy. You felt one of his fingers run from your sensitive clit and along your dripping slit, the tip teasing your entrance. You couldn’t help moving your hip against his fingers, trying to entice him into giving you more. 

“- You’re so greedy babygirl, you always want more from me, uh ?”

It made you moan, but it also made your heart clench, because he was too close to the truth. However, the feeling of two of his fingers slipping inside of your cunt made your train of thoughts stop there and it was for the best. You moaned louder this time, Chan thrusting his fingers into you at a rapid pace from the get-go. You both knew you didn’t need any preparation now, too used to his cock, but he loved to tease, loved to see how he could drive you insane with only two of his fingers. 

“- You were such a good girl today, I think you deserve a reward, don’t you ?”

You whined and nodded your head energetically as an answer, and you could easily imagine the cocky grin that must have spread on Chan’s face. You heard him unbuckle his belt and get rid of his pants and underwear behind you, his hands soon returning to their previous spot on your waist as his tip bumped against your clit. 

“- Channie… Please…

- Come on baby, we both know you can do better than that.

- Please, fuck me Channie, please, I want your cock so bad…

- There you go, good girl.”

He didn’t let you say anything more as he pushed half of his cock inside of you, letting you breathe and adjust to his size for a few seconds. But soon enough, he was filling you up to the brim, and you couldn’t keep your moans for yourself, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. 

“- Shit… I can never get enough of your pretty pussy.”

Your fists were gripping tightly onto the sheets to try and keep a bit of your sanity as Chan started to pull back, only to slam into your cunt full force, the back of his muscular thighs slapping against your ass and producing a lewd sound that mixed with the squelching of your impossibly soaked folds. A thin layer of sweat had started to form on your back as Chan restlessly pounded into you, his mind only clouded with thoughts of you full of his cum, so full you couldn’t escape from his hold ever again. His hands had an iron grip around your waist, pulling you back to him to hit deeper into you. You moaned louder with each one of his thrusts, slowly losing your mind to the sensation of his cock dragging against your velvety walls. 

“- C-Channie… 

- What is it babygirl ? Feeling close already ?”

You simply cried out his name again, the way he had leant into you to be able to talk directly into your ear made the angle of his hips change and hit your sweet spot even more perfectly - and you knew he did it on purpose, did it to make you go crazy. And it worked every time.

“- Mmh… You’re squeezing me so tight… There you go, cum around me angel.”

Every word that fell from his mouth brought you closer to the edge and you buried your face into his pillow to drown out your cries of pleasure as you came around him, his steady pace never flattering as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. And even when you started to whine from overstimulation, Chan didn’t stop. 

“- I-It’s too much… 

- Just let me fill you up, yeah ? Gonna give you my cum, gonna fill you up to the brim…”

Chan didn’t care anymore about the way this may all sound to you, his mind was clouded with thoughts of you becoming his wife, of you carrying his child, of your pussy dripping from his cum, and all he wanted was to stuff you full of his load, full of him, to make you his forever. His thrusts became rougher, and he was starting to lose his rhythm, though that was enough to bring you to the brink of another orgasm as you turned your head to the side to look at him over your shoulder : he had thrown his head back, his dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead and his muscular chest covered in sweat. But the best part of it all was the way his face contorted in pleasure.

“- Please, Channie… Give it to me, I want it all…”

His eyes bore into yours with a rare intensity, with lust but also some kind of possessiveness that he had never shown towards you. It was like something shifted, something that was going to change your relationship forever. 

“- Yeah ? You want my cum angel ? You want my babies ?”

You didn’t even know that you wanted it, but the moment he said it, you let out a broken moan as you nodded as best as you could, trying to move your hips to match his deep and quick thrusts. You knew that you wanted to be his - to be truly his - but you weren’t even aware that it was to that extent. But the thought of actually being the mother of his children seemed appealing, and it made you cried out his name again.

“- Words babygirl.

- F-Fuck ! Yes, yes I want your cum, I want your babies Channie !

- Shit… I’m gonna make you pregnant, gonna make you fucking mine.”

Chan growled behind you as he buried himself to the hilt into your pussy one last time, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white as he moaned and groaned, the sensation crashing like a violent wave against him, but it was mostly the thought that he might actually get you pregnant that made him say your name the loudest. Your second orgasm was even more intense than the first one, his promise and the feeling of his cum filling you up in the best way possible making you shake and tremble in his hold. 

“- God, you’re gonna be the death of me one of these days.”

Chan murmured with a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched the way some of his release dripped down your thighs despite him being still in you. The sight was mesmerizing, and he simply couldn’t look away, he simply couldn’t not get hard again. 

“- Seriously ?”

Your whines made him chuckle as he pulled out to help you lay down on your back. As soon as he was sure you were comfortable, Chan kissed you passionately, and there seemed to be something more behind the sensual glide of your tongues this time. 

“- Not my fault angel, you agreed to be mine, now you have to bear with that.”

His eyes were gleaming with so much adoration that you couldn’t pretend not feeling the same anymore and you bit down on your lips as you locked your gaze with his, your voice barely above a whisper as you talked. 

“- Yeah… I’m yours Chan.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1

Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.

The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"

He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."

He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"

There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.

"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."

His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."

Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."

His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."

There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.

"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."

Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.

Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."

He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."

His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.

"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."

Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."

She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.

Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.

"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"

She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"

Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."

Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.

"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."

His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."

There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."

His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.

"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."

He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."

His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.

"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"

Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.

"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."

Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."

Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.

But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.

Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.

The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.

His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”

He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."

She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.

“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”

He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.

“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”

Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”

Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”

He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”

He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”

The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”

“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”

But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.

“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”

His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Aegon froze.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.

“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”

He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”

Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.

Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.

And that scared her more than anything.

He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”

Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.

“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.

Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.

Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.

The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”

Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”

Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”

A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”

“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.

Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”

“I want to rip her wings off.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”

Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”

“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”

“Aegon, that’s not—”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”

Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.

It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.

The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.

“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.

“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.

Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.

“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”

Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”

There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”

His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”

Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”

Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”

“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.

Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”

“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”

For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.

Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?

“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”

He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”

The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.

He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.

He was watching me.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

pairing: drew starkey x reader

summary: you and drew have been best friends since childhood, sharing everything-until drew's acting career takes off. as odessa enters drew's life and their on-screen chemistry blurs the lines of their friendship, you feel the deepening void between you and the boy you once knew. invited to a family bbq at the starkey, you hope to reconnect with drew. however, you soon find yourself on the sidelines, watching as odessa captures all of drew's attention. a devastating scene in ‘hellraiser’—a film that stars both drew and odessa-sends you spiraling into the realization that drew may never see you the way you see him. over the course of a painful night and the aftermath, long-buried emotions rise to the surface, culminating in a heart-wrenching confrontation. will drew finally realize what you mean to him, or will you be forced to let him go for good? | words count: 7,3k (sorry!!!)

warning(s): NO HATES TOWARD ODESSA OR ANY ACTORS/ FRIENDS OF DREW! english is not my native language. severe emotional turmoil, themes of unrequited love, detailed internal conflict, intense feelings of isolation, push-and-pull dynamics, emotional abandonment, moments of painful rejection, and slow-burning angst.

au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. i actually listen to THIS SONG while writing this, discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @drewstarkeys-world @maybankslover @akobx @rubixgsworld @enjoymyloves @xoxohoneymoongirl @rafecameroncoke @httpsdrewstarkey @tiaamberxx @wxn-drlst @ratatioulle @zizuras @flvredcas @abrmscline @noobmazter69 @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry

The summers were always the best part of your childhood. You and Drew Starkey had been practically inseparable since you were six years old, running through the wide backyard of the Starkey home, laughing until your stomach hurt and your lungs ached from the chase. Your families were close—so close that your mothers, Jodi and your mom, would joke that you and Drew were "destined for each other."

"Y/N and Joseph," Jodi would say with a smile as she watched the two of you playing in the grass. "They’re going to get married someday. I’ve always known."

Your mother would laugh, glancing over at you, sweaty and carefree as you chased Drew through the sprinklers. "I’d be happy with that, Jodi," she’d reply, "It would be perfect."

You didn’t think much of it then. To you, Drew was just Drew—your best friend, the boy who pulled you out of the creek when you fell in one summer and got scraped knees trying to rescue you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, but back then, you were still young. The idea of growing up and getting married seemed like something distant, almost laughable.

One summer, when you were about six, you had a moment that defined your bond. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the Starkey backyard. You and Drew were sprawled on the grass after an afternoon of playing tag, breathing hard but smiling at each other.

“Joseph,” you began, turning your head toward him as you lay beside him, “can I call you something else? Like a nickname?”

Drew raised an eyebrow and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Like what?”

“I don’t know... Drew? It sounds cooler.”

He blinked, then laughed, as though the idea of you giving him a special name was the best thing he had heard all day. “Sure,” he said, grinning. “Call me Drew.”

From that day on, the name stuck. Only you called him that, while the rest of the world called him Joseph. It was your little secret, a bond that made you feel like you shared something special. And you did.

Every summer, you counted down the days until you could visit the Starkey family. It was tradition—long, lazy afternoons spent playing outside, followed by evenings watching the stars come out. The best part, though, was the mornings.

Drew knew how much you loved watching the sunrise. Each summer, no matter how early it was, he would wake up with you before dawn, just so the two of you could sit on the hill behind the house and watch the sky change from dark blue to shades of pink, orange, and gold.

“Think we’ll always do this?” you had asked one morning, your knees pulled to your chest as the horizon turned golden.

Drew looked at you, the early morning light reflecting in his eyes. “Yeah,” he had said simply. “We’ll always be friends.”

At that moment, as the sun bathed you both in warmth, you believed him with all your heart.

When you were twelve, your family made the big move to Asheville, North Carolina, to be closer to the Starkeys. At first, it was a dream come true—you’d see Drew year-round now, not just in the summers. But as exciting as the move was, it came with its own challenges. A new school, new classmates, and a feeling of unfamiliarity that settled deep in your bones.

You weren’t exactly the social butterfly Drew was. He thrived in new environments, easily making friends with his magnetic personality. He was taller than most boys his age, athletic, and undeniably charming. He played basketball, acted in the school plays, and it seemed like everyone was drawn to him. You, on the other hand, were quieter, more reserved. Drew was your anchor, the one person who made you feel like you belonged.

Despite being in different classes, Drew always made time for you. He’d wait for you after school, leaning against the fence near the basketball courts, a crooked smile on his face as he waved you over.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he’d tease. “I’ve got snacks for us before practice.”

It became a routine—him waiting for you, you showing up at his basketball practices with snacks or a drink to keep him going. Sometimes, you’d sit on the bleachers, watching him run drills, marveling at how easily he seemed to fit into this new world. You were happy for him, of course, but there was always a small, nagging feeling inside you, something that whispered that you were being left behind.

You brushed it off. After all, Drew was still Drew—your best friend, the boy who stood up for you when some kids at school made fun of your appearance. You’d never forget the day one of Drew’s classmates, a girl from the drama club, sneered at you during lunch.

“How can someone like you even be friends with Joseph Starkey?” she had said, her voice dripping with disdain.

You had felt a hot flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, your fists clenching at your sides. But before you could respond, Drew had appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of you protectively.

“What did you just say?” Drew’s voice was low, dangerous, his eyes narrowing at the girl.

The girl faltered, shrinking under his glare. “I— I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Drew snapped, his voice ice-cold. “If I ever hear you say something like that again, you’ll regret it.”

The girl had stammered an apology before scurrying away, and Drew had turned to you with a reassuring smile, as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t listen to people like her,” he had said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You’re worth so much more than their words.”

From that day on, you never doubted that Drew had your back. He was your protector, your confidant, the one person who made you feel safe in a world that often felt overwhelming.

When Drew turned seventeen, he became more serious about his future. You spent countless nights together, talking about his dreams, about how he wanted to pursue acting full-time after high school. It was clear to you that he had the passion, the drive, and the talent to make it big.

The day Drew landed his first acting role was a day you’d never forget. You were sitting in your living room when Drew burst through the front door, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N! I got the part!” he shouted, holding up a script in triumph. “I actually got the part!”

Your heart soared with pride as you jumped up from the couch, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Drew, that’s amazing! I knew you’d do it!”

The two of you celebrated that night, just the two of you. Drew asked you to help him practice his lines, and for hours, you sat on the floor of your living room, reading through the script with him. He was nervous, pacing back and forth as he recited his lines, but you were there, steady and patient, helping him work through every scene.

Before his first day on set, Drew had come to you, his usual confidence replaced with anxiety. “What if I mess up?” he had asked, his voice wavering. “What if I’m not good enough?”

You had smiled softly, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, crocheted keychain—a little dog with floppy ears that you had made yourself. “Here,” you said, handing it to him. “Consider this your good luck charm. Keep it with you, and I promise you’ll be fine.”

Drew had chuckled, pocketing the keychain with a fond smile. “Thanks, sunshine. I’ll keep it with me, always.”

That first role was just the beginning. After high school, Drew went off to college to study acting, and though the distance was hard, you made sure to keep in touch. Late-night phone calls, long text conversations—Drew made sure you were still part of his life, even from miles away.

And when he landed his breakout role on the Netflix series Outer Banks, you were the first person he called.

“Y/N! Guess what?” Drew’s voice had crackled through the phone, filled with excitement. “I got a role on a Netflix show! Can you believe it?”

Your heart had swelled with pride, even as a small, selfish part of you wondered what this meant for your friendship. “Drew, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!”

You meant every word, but as Drew’s career took off, the distance between you began to grow—not just physically, but emotionally. His life was changing, and you weren’t sure if you still had a place in it.

The first time Drew mentioned Odessa A’zion, you hadn’t thought much of it. She was a fellow actor on Outer Banks, and Drew had talked about how they had become fast friends on set. But as time passed, it became clear that Odessa was more than just a friend to Drew—she was someone important to him.

At first, you tried to brush off the feeling of unease that settled in your chest every time Drew talked about her. After all, he was bound to make new friends in the industry. But it became harder to ignore the way he talked about Odessa—the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned her name, the way she seemed to occupy so much of his attention.

The first time you met Odessa was at Drew’s birthday party. He had flown back to North Carolina to celebrate with friends and family, and you were excited to see him in person after months of only talking through texts and phone calls.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. It had been so long since you’d seen Drew, and part of you hoped that things would feel just like they used to. But as soon as you walked in, you saw him sitting with Odessa.

They were deep in conversation, laughing together as if they were the only two people in the room. You felt a pang of jealousy, something you hadn’t expected. Drew had always been your person, your best friend. But now, watching him with Odessa, it felt like he was slipping away.

When Drew finally noticed you, his face lit up with a smile. “Y/N!” he called out, standing up to wrap you in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

You hugged him back, but something felt off. The easy familiarity that had always existed between you was strained, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

Odessa greeted you with a polite smile, introducing herself, but the way she looked at Drew—like he was the center of her universe—only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Drew introduced you to his castmates, and while everyone was friendly, you couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Drew and Odessa were inseparable, their laughter filling the room as they shared inside jokes you weren’t part of.

Later that night, as the party began to wind down, Drew pulled you aside. “I need to take Odessa home,” he explained, his voice apologetic. “She had a little too much to drink.”

You forced a smile, even as your heart sank. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”

As you watched them leave together, something inside you shifted. You couldn’t ignore it anymore—the distance between you and Drew wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.

Months passed, and while you and Drew still kept in touch, things weren’t the same. The texts were shorter, the phone calls less frequent, and every time you tried to bring up something personal, something about you, the conversation somehow always shifted back to Odessa or Drew’s new life in Los Angeles. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about his success—you were proud of him—but it hurt to feel like an afterthought, someone on the periphery of his increasingly glamorous life.

When Drew invited you to his family’s annual BBQ, you hesitated. Part of you wanted to turn down the invitation, not wanting to face him and Odessa again. But the other part of you—the part that still longed for the closeness you once shared—couldn’t say no. This was the Starkey house, the place that had always felt like a second home to you, the place where your friendship with Drew had blossomed.

The afternoon sun was just beginning to set as you arrived at the familiar Starkey home. The front porch was adorned with string lights, and the smell of grilled burgers wafted through the air, mixing with the sound of laughter from the backyard. It should’ve felt like a homecoming, but instead, all you felt was a growing sense of unease.

As you stepped into the backyard, the knot in your stomach tightened. Drew was there, sitting beside Odessa, his arm casually draped along the back of her chair. They were laughing, their heads close together as if they were sharing some private joke. For a moment, it was like watching strangers—people you knew but didn’t recognize anymore.

Before you could retreat, McKayla spotted you. “Y/N!” she called out, running over with a grin. Her hug was warm, and it reminded you of why you had come. The Starkeys were still like family, even if your relationship with Drew had changed.

“I missed you so much!” McKayla said, pulling back to look at you with a beaming smile. “It’s been forever.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, your smile softening as you hugged her again. If anything, McKayla had always made you feel welcome, like you were still an important part of their family.

Just as McKayla let go, Todd walked over, his familiar grin lighting up his face. “There’s my favorite little girl!” he boomed, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. “How’ve you been, Y/N?”

“I’ve been good, Todd,” you said, your voice a little quieter now. “How about you?”

“Oh, you know, keeping busy,” Todd replied, his tone warm. “We’ve missed you around here, you know. This place isn’t the same without you.”

Jodi joined the group, pulling you into a soft hug. “Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” she said, her smile kind but tinged with something deeper—an understanding, perhaps, of the distance that had grown between you and her son. “How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” you answered. “They’re actually in Rome right now, celebrating their 35th anniversary.”

“Ah, Rome,” Jodi sighed wistfully. “Lucky them. They always did know how to celebrate big.”

You smiled at the familiarity of their banter, grateful for their warmth, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tightening in your chest. Every few minutes, your eyes would drift back to Drew and Odessa. The easy way they sat together, the way Drew’s hand occasionally brushed her arm as he spoke—it was hard to ignore. Even harder to accept.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” McKayla suggested, sensing your unease and pulling you away from the crowd. As you followed her inside, you passed Drew and Odessa. Drew glanced up at you, a smile briefly crossing his face.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad you could make it,” Drew said, his tone casual, but there was a distance in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart ached.

You could feel Odessa’s eyes on you, though her smile was polite. “Nice to see you again,” she added, her tone friendly but not warm. You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as the conversation shifted back to something between her and Drew.

As the night progressed, Drew suggested watching Hellraiser—the movie he and Odessa had filmed together. It was the project he had talked about non-stop for months, and while you had been happy for him, you had avoided watching it. The idea of seeing Drew and Odessa on screen together, so intimately connected, made you uneasy.

“I think you’ll like it,” Drew said as the group settled in front of the outdoor screen. “It’s one of my favorite projects.”

You sat between McKayla and Todd, grateful for the distance between you and Drew, but as the opening credits rolled, the familiar knot in your stomach returned.

At first, you tried to focus on the movie, telling yourself it was just another role for Drew—just a job, nothing more. But as the film progressed, your discomfort grew. Drew’s character, Trevor, and Odessa’s character, Riley, had an undeniable chemistry, one that felt far too real. Every glance, every touch between them on screen felt intimate, too personal.

And then the first love scene played out.

You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could have braced you for how raw it felt to watch Drew and Odessa in such a vulnerable, intimate moment. The room around you seemed to fade, and all you could focus on was the way Drew looked at her on screen, the way their bodies intertwined in a way that felt too real to be acting.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you fought to keep your expression neutral, but the weight in your chest was growing unbearable. You hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to see him like this, to be confronted with the reality of how much you were no longer a part of his life.

A lump formed in your throat as you forced yourself to stay seated, but when the second love scene began, you couldn’t take it anymore. The emotions you had been pushing down for months suddenly overwhelmed you, and without a word, you stood up, muttering a quick excuse to McKayla before making your way to the front porch.

As soon as you were outside, you collapsed onto the porch steps, gasping for air as the tears finally spilled over. You had been trying so hard to keep it together, but seeing Drew and Odessa like that—so close, so connected—had broken something inside you.

“Y/N?”

McKayla’s voice was soft, and you quickly wiped at your eyes as she stepped outside, sitting down beside you. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat with you in the quiet, the sound of the movie still playing faintly in the background.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, her voice filled with concern.

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I don’t think I can do this, McKayla. Watching them together... it’s too much.”

McKayla sighed, her brow furrowing in sympathy. “I get it, Y/N. It’s hard. But you have to talk to him. He doesn’t know how much you’re hurting.”

“I don’t think he even cares,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He’s so wrapped up in Odessa and his career... I don’t think I matter to him anymore.”

McKayla shook her head firmly, turning to face you fully. “That’s not true, Y/N. I know my brother. He still cares about you—he’s just blind to everything right now. But you need to tell him how you feel. You deserve that.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” McKayla said softly, her hand resting on your shoulder. “You’ve been there for him through everything, Y/N. He needs to understand how much you’re hurting.”

You nodded, but the thought of confronting Drew still terrified you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him, to lay everything out on the table. But one thing was clear—you couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. You couldn’t keep carrying this hurt on your own.

The next morning, you woke up with the same heavy feeling in your chest. You had tossed and turned all night, replaying the movie over and over in your mind, each scene only deepening the ache in your heart. You needed to leave. As much as you loved the Starkeys, being here—being around Drew and Odessa—was too painful.

You packed your bags quietly, leaving a note for McKayla and Todd, thanking them for their hospitality. Slipping out of the house before anyone else woke up, you drove home, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

Back at the Starkey house, McKayla sat at the kitchen table with Todd, sipping her coffee as the morning sunlight streamed through the windows.

“She left early,” McKayla said quietly, setting her mug down with a frown. “She didn’t say goodbye.”

Todd looked up from his newspaper, his brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound like her. Did something happen?”

McKayla sighed, glancing out the window. “I think things are worse than we thought. Y/N... she’s been really struggling, Dad. Watching Drew and Odessa together... it’s been breaking her heart.”

Todd’s face softened with understanding, his eyes clouded with concern. “She’s been a part of this family for so long. I hate to think she’s feeling left out.”

Before McKayla could respond, Drew wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Morning,” he mumbled, heading straight for the coffee pot. But when he noticed the tension in the room, he paused, frowning.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between McKayla and Todd.

McKayla exchanged a glance with her father before turning to Drew. “Y/N left early this morning,” she said, her voice heavy with worry. “She didn’t say goodbye.”

Drew’s frown deepened, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What? Why?”

Todd sighed, folding his newspaper as he looked at his son. “I think you know why, Drew. Y/N’s been feeling like you’ve pushed her aside for a long time now. Last night... watching you and Odessa on screen... it was too much for her.”

Drew paled, guilt washing over his face. “What? I— I didn’t mean to—” He trailed off, his voice cracking with emotion.

McKayla crossed her arms, her tone gentle but firm. “Drew, she’s been there for you through everything. But you’ve been so caught up in your own life that you didn’t realize how much you were hurting her.”

Drew’s face fell, the weight of his sister’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had known something was wrong between you two, but he hadn’t realized how deep the hurt ran.

“I need to fix this,” Drew muttered, setting down his coffee and running a hand through his hair. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, determination written all over his face.

You weren’t expecting Drew to show up at your door. After the overwhelming emotions of the previous night, all you wanted was some distance—some space to breathe, to think. The moment you opened the door and saw Drew standing on your porch, his expression filled with a mix of regret and urgency, your heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“Y/N,” Drew began, his voice soft but strained. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

You hesitated for a moment, gripping the edge of the door, your mind torn between letting him in and closing the door on everything you’d been feeling. Part of you wanted to push him away—to protect yourself from the pain that had been eating away at you for so long. But another part of you—a much deeper part—wanted answers. Needed them.

With a reluctant sigh, you stepped back and motioned for Drew to come in.

He walked into your living room, the air thick with tension. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked around, as though searching for something familiar to hold on to. His eyes briefly landed on a photo of the two of you from years ago, sitting on the mantle—a reminder of better times, of the friendship that had once been your anchor.

Drew stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast. It was clear that he was struggling to find the right words, but the silence between you was too much to bear.

“You left without saying goodbye,” Drew finally said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his tone, something you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, I did. I couldn’t stay, Drew.”

He glanced up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. “Why? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you looked away. “Talk to you? Drew, when have we really talked lately? Every conversation we’ve had for months has been about Odessa or your career. You barely even notice I’m there anymore.”

Drew flinched at your words, the weight of them hitting him hard. “That’s not true, Y/N. I care about you—I’ve always cared.”

“Really?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Do you even realize how long I’ve been feeling like this? How long I’ve been watching you slip away, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t losing you?”

Drew opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. The dam of emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Do you know how hard it’s been, Drew? To sit on the sidelines, watching you live this new life, while I feel like I’m not even part of it anymore? I’ve stood by you through everything—every audition, every role, every milestone—and when it was my turn, when it was something important to me, you weren’t there.”

Your voice cracked as you continued, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “You missed my graduation, Drew. Do you know how much that hurt? You promised you’d be there, and you didn’t show up. I waited for you. I waited for you because I thought, ‘This is Drew. He’ll come. He’ll be there for me like I’ve always been there for him.’ But you didn’t. And when you said you’d make it up to me, I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d have one night where it would just be the two of us, like old times. But you brought her.”

Drew’s face fell, his expression filled with regret. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize because you never asked,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unspoken pain. “You were so caught up in your own world, in your new life with Odessa, that you didn’t even notice I was falling apart.”

Drew’s eyes were filled with anguish, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did,” you said, your voice cracking with the weight of those words. “You hurt me, Drew. Every time I saw you with her, every time you talked about her like she was the only thing that mattered to you, it felt like a knife in my chest. And I tried to be okay with it. I tried to tell myself that you deserved to be happy, that you deserved to have someone who understood your world. But it didn’t stop the pain.”

Drew took a step closer to you, his hands trembling as he reached out, but he stopped short, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. I was selfish, Y/N. I got caught up in everything—my career, Odessa—and I didn’t stop to think about how it was affecting you. And I hate myself for that.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the hurt still sat heavy in your chest. “You forgot me,” you whispered, the words so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard them. “I was there for you through everything, and when I needed you, you forgot me.”

Drew’s face contorted with guilt and pain, and he stepped closer, his voice pleading. “I didn’t forget you, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t. I just... I got lost. I let everything else consume me, and I pushed you away without even realizing it. But I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped needing you in my life.”

You met his gaze, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. Part of you wanted to believe him—to believe that he hadn’t meant to hurt you, that he was still the same Drew you had always known. But the pain was still too fresh, too raw.

“You didn’t need me, Drew,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You needed her. Every time I saw you, it was like I was just... there. Like I was some ghost from your past, watching as you built a new life without me.”

Drew shook his head, his voice breaking. “No. No, that’s not true. Odessa was just... she was just a friend. I never saw her as anything more. But you—I’ve always seen you. You’ve always been more than just a friend to me.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “What are you saying, Drew?”

“I’m saying that I love you, Y/N,” Drew said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was too blind to see it. Too blind to realize how much I was hurting you by pushing you away. But it’s always been you. It’s always been you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You stared at him, your heart racing, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. “Don’t say that, Drew. Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do mean it,” Drew insisted, stepping closer to you. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I let everything else get in the way, and I lost sight of what really mattered. But you—you’re what matters. You’ve always been the one who’s mattered the most to me.”

Tears filled your eyes once again, your heart warring with your mind. You had waited so long to hear those words, but now that they were finally being spoken, you didn’t know what to do with them.

“How can I believe you?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How can I believe that you won’t hurt me again? That you won’t forget me the next time something else comes along?”

Drew’s eyes filled with desperation as he reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. “I won’t forget you. I swear, Y/N, I won’t. I’ve already hurt you once, and I will never make that mistake again. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the most important person to me. Just... please, give me another chance.”

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of the hurt and let Drew back into your life. But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight.

“I need time,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I need time to heal, to figure out if I can really trust you again.”

Drew nodded, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “I understand. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, Y/N. Just please... don’t shut me out completely.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the Drew you had always known—the Drew who had stood by your side through everything, who had been your rock when the world felt too heavy.

“I won’t shut you out,” you said softly, your heart aching with the weight of it all. “But this... it’s going to take time.”

Drew nodded again, his relief palpable as he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll be here. No matter how long it takes.”

With that, Drew slowly stepped back, giving you the space you needed. The air between you was still heavy with unresolved emotions, but for the first time in months, there was a glimmer of hope. A possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be repaired.

As Drew turned to leave, he glanced back at you, his voice soft but filled with quiet determination. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m not going to give up on us.”

You watched him go, your heart conflicted but not as heavy as it had been before. There was still so much to work through, but for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you and Drew had a chance to find your way back to each other.

The days after the confrontation felt different. Lighter, but still uncertain. The emotional heaviness lingered between you and Drew, but there was something else now—a shared understanding that things needed time, that rushing back into the past wasn’t an option.

Drew kept his word. He didn’t push you, didn’t try to force himself back into your life as if nothing had happened. Instead, he started with small gestures—things that reminded you of the Drew you had known before everything changed.

Each morning, you woke up to a text from Drew. Simple things, like: "I saw the sunrise today and thought of you. Miss those mornings." Or, "Found an old photo of us. Remember this day?" They were small messages, but they carried the weight of years of shared history and memories you had thought were forgotten.

One evening, about a week after the confrontation, Drew showed up at your door with coffee in hand. The sight of him standing there with your favorite caramel macchiato, looking uncertain but hopeful, stirred something inside you.

“I thought you could use this,” Drew said, offering a small smile. “And I... was hoping we could talk. Just for a little while.”

You hesitated, but then nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Drew walked into your living room, his movements tentative, like he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore.

As you sat together on the couch, sipping your coffee, the silence between you was less suffocating than before. There was still a lot to work through, but at least the distance wasn’t unbearable. Drew glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the framed photo of the two of you from years ago, taken on a family trip to the beach. The both of you were grinning wildly, arms around each other, as if nothing in the world could break your bond.

“I remember that day,” Drew said quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “We spent hours building a sandcastle. It collapsed after five minutes, but we didn’t care. We thought it was the best thing ever.”

You chuckled softly, the memory warming something inside you. “Yeah, we were so proud of it.”

Drew shifted in his seat, his expression turning more serious. “I miss those days, Y/N. I miss us. I know I messed up, and I know it’ll take time, but... I want to get back to that.”

You turned to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. For so long, you had felt like you had lost Drew—the Drew who had been your best friend, your confidant, the person who knew you better than anyone. But now, sitting here with him, you realized that maybe he hadn’t been lost forever. Maybe he was still there, waiting for you to let him back in.

“I miss it too,” you admitted, your voice soft but full of emotion. “But... I need time, Drew. This isn’t something that can be fixed overnight.”

“I know,” Drew said, nodding. “And I’m not going to rush you. I’ll take as much time as you need.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe you could rebuild what had been broken.

The weeks that followed were a slow process of healing and reconnection. Drew made an effort—an effort you hadn’t seen from him in months. He started texting you every morning, checking in to see how your day was going. The texts weren’t long or overly sentimental, but they were consistent. They were proof that he was thinking about you, even in the midst of his busy schedule.

Some days, the texts were simple:

"How’s work going? Thought of you when I passed by the old park today."

Other days, they carried a heavier weight:

"I’m sorry again, Y/N. For everything. I just want you to know that I’m still here."

And as time passed, you found yourself replying more. The walls you had built up around your heart began to slowly crumble, brick by brick. Drew wasn’t just making promises—he was showing you that he meant them. He wasn’t rushing you or pushing for more than you were ready to give. He was patient, and that patience made all the difference.

One afternoon, Drew surprised you by inviting you to lunch at the café you both used to frequent when you were younger. It had been years since you’d been there together, but as you sat across from each other, sipping coffee and talking about nothing in particular, it felt like you were slowly returning to a version of yourselves that had been lost.

The conversations were lighter, more comfortable. Drew listened intently when you talked about work, your hobbies, the things that had filled your life in the time you had drifted apart. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t competing with Odessa or his career for his attention. Drew was fully present, and that made all the difference.

A few weeks later, Drew showed up at your door with something unexpected—a small gift bag in hand, looking both nervous and hopeful.

“I, uh, thought I’d bring this over,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know it’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious, and took the bag from him. Inside was a small journal, the cover embossed with the words “For Every Sunrise.” Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled it out, your fingers tracing the delicate lettering.

“I know how much you love watching the sunrise,” Drew explained, his voice soft. “I thought maybe... you could use this to write down your thoughts. Or even just to keep track of the sunrises you’ve seen.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind the gift. Drew had always known how much sunrises meant to you—those quiet moments when the world was still, when everything felt possible. And now, here he was, reminding you of those moments in a way that felt so personal, so deeply connected to the history you shared.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

Drew smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I’m glad you like it.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were being seen. Not just as someone in Drew’s life, but as someone important. Someone who mattered.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Drew continued to rebuild your relationship—slowly, carefully. There were still moments of doubt, moments when the hurt resurfaced and threatened to pull you back into the past. But Drew was patient. He never rushed you, never pushed you to move faster than you were ready for. Instead, he met you where you were, showing up for you in the ways that mattered most.

One day, Drew suggested a walk through the old park you used to visit as kids. It had been years since you had walked those paths together, but as you strolled through the park, side by side, it felt like you were reclaiming a piece of the past that had been lost.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Drew said as you walked, his voice quiet but steady. “About how much we’ve been through together.”

You glanced over at him, your heart tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. “Yeah, me too.”

Drew stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes were filled with a kind of determination you hadn’t seen in a long time. “I don’t want to take you for granted anymore, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I hurt you. I know it’s going to take time to earn back your trust, but I want to be the person you can count on again. The person you deserve.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you—it was different now. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He meant every word.

“I want that too,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to know that this time... this time, it’s real.”

“It is,” Drew promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, Y/N, it’s real.”

And in that moment, as the sun began to set behind the trees, casting a golden glow over the park, you knew that maybe—just maybe—you and Drew were finally on the right path. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there were still wounds that needed time to heal, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could trust him again. Trust that he wasn’t going to let you down.

Months passed, and the slow process of rebuilding trust continued. Drew didn’t let up on his efforts—he made time for you, prioritized you, and showed you in small, meaningful ways that he was committed to repairing the damage that had been done.

The two of you began to fall back into an easy rhythm. Movie nights, long conversations over coffee, quiet walks through the park—it was like rediscovering an old friendship, but with the added depth of everything you had been through. The love you had for each other was still there, but now, it was stronger, more resilient.

One evening, Drew invited you to his house for dinner. It was just the two of you, and as you sat together on the back porch, watching the sunset, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future,” Drew said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

You turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah? What about it?”

Drew’s eyes softened as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. “About us. About what we want.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at the intensity of his gaze. “And what do you want, Drew?”

“I want you,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want you in my life, in every way. I don’t want to lose you again, Y/N. I love you. I always have.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you. It had taken so long to get to this point, to rebuild what had been broken, but now, sitting here with Drew, you knew that it had all been worth it.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I don’t want to lose you either.”

Drew smiled, his eyes filled with relief and happiness. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Let’s be together.”

And as he leaned in to kiss you, the weight of all the past hurt and pain seemed to fade away, leaving only the promise of a future—together.

THE END!!

i was thinking about writing a drabbles for this, hehe maybe their future together, if you have any suggestion, ask box are always open!! and i hope you all enjoy this imagine 🖤

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

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@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

[wilwheaton]

Hey Wil, this is out of left field, but you’ve done some work that might have been dubbed into other languages.

Have you ever viewed anything you’ve done in a dubbed version? I can’t imagine what it’s like watching yourself on screen, but it’s got to be pretty trippy to watch yourself performing with a stranger’s voice coming out.

Just wondered. Hope you’re having a great day. Please give Marlowe & Watson scritches from me. 💜

Oh my god. Yes. I have one story and WOW is it weird.

So, in the early 90s, when TNG was dubbed for Germany, the actor they cast to voice Wesley made this choice (or was directed) to be obnoxiously whiny. Like, it could not have been more wrong for the character, and farther away from my performance. This person made Wesley a bratty, whiny, snotty kid. Like, WOW, did they fundamentally change how German audiences experienced this character.

I had no idea, because in the early 90s, the world was bigger than it is today. But I saw LOTS of letters and comments in magazines (and on Usenet) from Trekkies in Germany who fucking HATED Wesley with a firey passion that was even more intense than the way protoincels hated him in America. I didn't understand why, specifically in Germany, he was so despised.

Fast forward to ... I want to say 2011? Maybe 2012? Somewhere around there. I went to Germany for a convention. It was my first time ever visiting the country, and meeting lots of German fans all at once. And over the course of my first day, I began to hear stories from people who hated Wesley, until they heard him in English. In German, he was a whiny little punk, in English, he was ... well, you know who he was.

I wish I knew who made the choice to portray Wesley that way, and why, and why the mothership in Hollywood didn't intervene. I mean, he's just a profoundly different character in German.

I still haven't seen or heard the German dub. Last time I looked, I couldn't find it and I haven't looked again, since.

But now I wonder ... how many anime dubs did I watch over the years where the characters were totally different in English than they are in their original language?

[caxde]

yellow | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, you used to go out with Steve, but the distance broke you off, you're back in Hopkins, for good, and destiny makes you bump into eachother. (3.9k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes! to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

-

“Since when do you own this?” Dustin asked as he pulled a yellow crewneck out of one of the boxes. 

“Oh, uh…” You hadn’t seen it in a while. It fell on your hands as Dustin gave it to you, the softness of the fabric still holds a reminder of his cologne. “It’s not mine, it’s Steve’s.” 

He grew quiet for a second, looking at you intensely. They were still friends, Steve had seen him grow up, and was close to him, almost like a brother, and when you broke things off, you begged him to not leave him. He kept his promise, he always did. 

“Sorry.” He muttered, an apologetic look stayed on his face even when he stopped looking at you, you shook your head. He didn’t need to apologise, not to you anyway. 

“How is he?” The curiosity always took the best of you, and you had left quite some time ago, not really thinking about him. Running away so you wouldn’t have to think about a broken heart. 

“I haven’t told him that you came back home.” Your little brother blurted out, with a grin on his face, letting you know he is really glad that you’re actually back, his way of telling you he’d missed you. “He’s doing good. He’s working, and he went back to studying… He’s happy.” He smiled back at you, seeing how your face was no longer expressing grief or melancholy, but a pleasant smile. 

You were unsure of a lot of things, but one thing that you were certain of, he deserves all of the happiness in the world. 

“That’s nice to know.” Your attention went back to the sweater. The coldness of the night he left it to you seemed to reach your fingertips, and the warmth of the memory reached your gut, butterflies that you thought dead flew for a second. “You should give it back to him.” You added, lifting your head up to look at him. 

“You sure?” Even if he was the youngest, he always treated you in such a delicate manner, it made you softer, you had missed him. 

“Yeah, it’s been long enough.” You chuckled as you said it, and he nodded along. You hadn’t been home in years, hadn’t seen him in two of those. 

“I’m meeting him in a bit, I can give it to him then.” You nod, and he mouths a soft okey before leaving the room. 

You had a moment, for the first time since you had arrived back home, where you were alone. No music, no noise, no one else with you. 

You left so you could go to college, that was your excuse. Then he broke up with you, the distance only exposed other problems, in both of you. When you did break up, he told you that he still loved you, but it wasn’t enough. 

The echo of his words still with you, it isn’t enough, am i not enough? 

The sweetness of his voice shocked with his broken tone, tears fell from his eyes when he said goodbye. That was the last weekend you came down, and you had been avoiding coming back ever since. 

The walls of your room were empty, the new coat of paint now dry, half full boxes of clothes and shoes and memorabilia were scattered around the floor, the bed half done, the cover still having to be put. It seemed like a new beginning, a new chance for yourself. 

Not a lot of people knew you were back. Dustin knew, of course. It had been funny seeing him finally drive, his hands still a bit insecure behind the wheel, but he looked so happy being able to pick his sister from the airport, it had made you beam with happiness when you saw him.

And you had called Eddie as soon as you woke up today. He was ecstatic, begging you to come to a party tonight, telling you that he’d come pick you up as soon as his shift at the garage was done. You knew he’d missed you, even if he’d come often to the city, and vent over everything he had going on. Avoiding to bring him up, even if you did. 

So you laid down on your floor, staring at the same ceiling you did as you grew up in that same house. 

Before you were aware of what you were doing, or why, a pen rested on your hand, scribbling down on a piece of paper. 

Hey, I’m sorry it took this long to give it back, guess I wasn’t ready to let you go. Maybe I’ll never be. I hope you’re happy, and that you have everything you deserve. I’m also sorry if it stinks of me, it has been with me for a while now. Bye. 

PS. Don’t be a stranger. I’m here if you need me. 

You signed it, and folded it one too many times before dropping it inside the little bag that had his sweater in it, the green clashing with the yellow fabric. 

Dustin grabbed it before he left, you smiled when you heard that his car sounded the same. 

-

Loud music, sweaty people and colorful lights. 

Your drink was empty, it had been for a while.

Eddie smiled while he danced and took a sip of his drink, happy that you’re finally back, his head swinging back and forth. His attention was split, between you and an unknown blonde girl that was on the bar. You smiled when you caught her staring. 

“You’ve got a fan Edds.” You chuckled as you teased him. Raising your voice so he could hear you. 

“Who?” 

“The blonde”

“I don’t think that’ll work.” He laughed, his shyness coming in as it always did when the attention was on him. 

“I think it will if you actually go talk to her… buy her a drink?” You shake your head in her direction, he knows you’re actually telling him it’s okay, you can go, i’m okay. 

“Sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll go to the other bar and get a drink, wait for you there.” He nodded, and you smiled as you saw him blush. 

He looked back at her, he rubbed his chin in a nervous manner, before actually walking over to her. You laughed at him, smiling deeply seeing your friend acting the same he always had. 

As you shook your head to yourself, stifling another laugh you left him on his own, Eddie flirted better when you weren’t around anyway. You started walking to the other bar area, the only problem, you had to find your way through the dance floor before you could reach it. You looked at the people there, all of them dancing mindlessly, some couples that had been formed, kissing or dancing together -it always made you smile, seeing people loving each other, publicly, without fear- and some doing what you were doing, looking around while downing their drink. 

You were halfway through, when you saw him. 

Everything else became fuzzy, the only clear image in your vision was him, wearing the yellow sweater. 

Steve saw you too. 

And time seemed to stop for a moment, and before it started again, there was a few seconds of slow motion. His hair flicking to the beat of the music, as his lips curved upwards at the sight of you, his eyes softening. He’d missed seeing you. He looks the same he did. You thought, though taller, broader, happier. 

Before you knew it, you were face to face. 

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at each other. Years of not seeing him, of avoiding him, it all didn’t matter now. His smile had the same effect on you as it always had, melting you on the spot. He broke the distance, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close for a hug, your arms laying behind his neck, your fingers stroking his hair. 

I miss you. 

“Hi.” Steve whispered into your ear. An excited but yet calm tone could be heard in his tone. 

“Hi.” You whispered back, holding on to him for a second longer before pulling back. 

“Dustin told me you came back.” He raised his voice now that your head was no longer close to him. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”

“I can tell.” You joked, as you grabbed his sweater, and you saw him chuckle in response. 

“D’you wanna go out? And talk?” He pointed at where the exit was. Of course you wanted to, you almost felt like you needed to. Hear his voice for once, not just remember it. 

As soon as you nodded, he started to head out, grabbing your hand as he passed in front of you. The same tingling feeling comes back to you, as if it was the first time you went on a date with him. The excited nervousness, the hopefulness, the wishing. 

Cold air hitted your chest, even if it was an unseasonably warm night, you blamed the alcohol because anything else would be too confusing, and you were really trying to not get too much into your head. Not now, when he was standing against the wall and his pretty brown eyes were fixed deep into yours. 

“So, how have you been?” He broke the silence, and the moment of admiration between the both of you. 

“Good.” You smile shyly to yourself. “I’ve been good.” 

“How did the big city treat you?” 

“Chicago is… Interesting.” You chuckled, as you scratched your forehead. He knew that was your anxious tick, the way you had when you had too many thoughts swimming around inside your mind. “Uh… You’d hate deep dish pizza.” 

He laughed, and the little butterfly hidden in your stomach came alive again. Warmness and goosebumps on your skin. 

“I did hate it.” He recalls, looking up for a moment, the street lights shining on him. He looks like a statue, you thought, unaware of how pretty he is.

“When did you try it?” 

“I was waiting for one of your classes to end, got hungry and saw a little place that was selling them, disgusting.” He shook his head in a funny manner, it made you giggle, so he did it again, wanting to hear you again. 

“I ended up liking it, y’know.” 

“Of course you did.” He teased, a finger poking your cheek, your face leaning into his touch. 

“You get used to it.” You shrugged, your hand reaching for your purse, searching for the pack of Marlboros you knew you had. 

“You’re good at that.” He grinned as his eyes became softer, he couldn’t stop looking you up and down. “You’re good at everything.”

“‘M not.” You laughed as you took a cigarette out, placing it between your lips. “I still can’t cook as good as you can.” 

“You miss my cooking?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked, a cheeky grin on his lips. 

“I dream about those meatballs you made.” You confessed, trying to hide your truthfulness with a giggle, that he saw through. His head tilted back for a moment, as his Adam's apple moved as he sifted a laugh. 

“D’you remember when I tried to teach you how to make Napolitanian pizza from scratch?” You started to laugh at the memory, failing to light your cigarette, hiding your face on the palm of your hand. 

His heart started to beat again, louder, stronger, faster. If you weren’t too busy trying to quiet yours down, you’d hear it.  

“God… I ended up covered in flour.” 

“Your hair was all white.” His tone softented, as did his eyes. His body seemed to be closer to yours, itching for contact. “I missed that laugh.” He finally confessed, even if the thought had been on his mind since he first heard it that night. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, I missed you too.” 

It happened then. The wave of nervousness, relieved in an instance. 

He missed me. Hemissed me. Hemissedme. 

The excitement that came with it, the realisation that what you felt in some way was reciprocated. And that the complicated feelings were felt by the both of you. 

“Really?” Your voice was full of hope, your eyes shining bright at him. 

“Yeah.” He was blushing now, as he smiled. A wide upside down grin that made your stomach flutter. “Did you?”

“Of course I did.” 

How could you not? He has been the best person that has ever stood by you. Even if things had ended, you could only remember the good times, the fun times, the soft ones. How loved he made you feel every single day. How wanted. How cared for. 

“When we broke things off…” You started to rumble, as smoke escaped through your lips, finally having ignited the cig. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore.” 

“I know.” He muttered, his tone letting it known that he had a knot in his throat. “I still loved you.” 

“Yeah.” You looked up at him, your hand reaching for his, a needed familiar contact came back. “I needed to be okay.”

“Are you?” You knew he was worried about your answer, in a weird way, Steve never had stopped caring about you. And neither had you. 

“I am.” You nodded, the curve your lips made made him know that you couldn’t be lying. “I don’t have panic attacks every night, I’m fine being on my own. Honestly.” 

“I believe you.” His hand squeezed yours, the soft touch telling you he trusted you, implicitly. You felt yourself falling back into him. “And I’m proud of you, really.” 

“I’m proud of you too.” You finally took a step closer to him, your legs touching and a love sick grin on both of your faces. “Dustin told me you’re studying.” 

“Yeah well… I finally decided, I guess…” 

Even if your attention was on nothing else but him, when the doors opened and people started to come back to the street, smelling of alcohol, smoke and sweat. A chattering invaded the quiet street, and your focus changed. 

“Shit.” Your eyes were scanning the multitude, trying to find Eddie, or the blonde girl, or any of her friends. 

“What?” Steve’s eyebrow furrowed again, not really knowing why the swarm of people had made your demeanor change. Your hand letting his go, your body taking a step back. 

“I came with Edds… Do you see him?” 

“Oh, you’re with him?” You scoffed at the question, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, as you shook your head no. Steve nodded as the smallest grin appeared. A relief appeared in his face, and you chuckled at his question and reaction. 

“He’s a friend.” You still were trying to find him, people kept passing you by, taller, shorter and drunker. “D’you see him?” 

“No.” 

Steve left his hand on your shoulder, asking for your attention, knowing that you were getting into your head, and you were worrying too much too soon. And he also knew that once you felt his touch, your shoulders would relax and drop. Your mind stopped spinning. 

“D’you remember where he parked?” As soon as he speaks you feel grounded. You nodded, and he replicated the movement. “We’ll wait for him there then, come on.” 

You started walking, comfortable silence was one of your favourite things. Just knowing that he was there made you feel better, glancing at him from time to time, catching him staring at you everytime you did so. Making your lips curve everytime you catch him. 

The van wasn’t there. 

“Fuck.” 

“He left?” His tone was a bit agressive now, not at you, if anything he just was protective, so in consequence he seemed pissed that he had left you stranded. Alone. 

“I’m guessing he got lucky with the blonde.” You chuckled out of nervousness. Your hand playing with your hair, placing a strand of it behind your ear, trying to look everywhere but him. “S’fine, I’ll just call a taxi and wake Dustin up.”

“Shut up.” He scoffed, his arms crossing in front of his chest, looking down at you, a look of decision in his eyes. There was no way you were going home alone. “I’ll drive you, c’mon.” 

“I don’t have my keys.” You mumbled. “Dustin has mine. I was supposed to sleep over.”

“Then you’ll sleep over. Let’s go.” His hand reached out, an invitation you weren’t sure you should take, but do anyway. 

-

The car ride had been filled by music, and soft touches. Loving stares, and nervous chuckles. 

It really did feel like old times. 

It didn’t help that his house smelled the same, and time seemed to not move in the Harrington household. 

The only difference was the most noticeable of them all. All of the family pictures had been put down. 

“You changed it up.” You whispered as soon as you walked in, seeing the bare walls, were paint was darker where frames used to be. 

“They don’t live here anymore. So…” You knew he wanted to tell you about it, just as much as you knew he didn’t want to talk about it now, so you just nodded, and he understood what you knew. Words weren’t even necessary. 

“Who does?” You changed the topic, slightly, once you saw a jacket that wasn’t his hanged on the wall. 

“Robin.” He smiled, his face relaxing and becoming brighter. “Her parents didn’t really get the whole… uh… liking girls things.”

“Right, how is she?” You had wanted to reach out to her, but you weren’t sure if she’d wanted to hear from you, you worried, and Steve’s voice echoed in your head you worry too much.

“She missed you.” He confessed with a smile, starting to climb up the stairs, finding his way to his bedroom, you followed him closely. “We all did, I guess.” 

His head hung low for a second, remorse in his voice. Looking back at you for a moment before he turned on his bedroom light, his skin glistened under the moonlight that sneaked through his window. You smiled, seeing him in this light again, with the same background that you had becomed so familiar with once before. 

His walls where still the same colour, and bedsheets were still stripped. It smelled and felt the same as it had always done, and for a moment -however brief- you were back in time. 

You were eighteen again, and you were sneaking into his room for the first time again. 

The orangy bedside table filled the room again, and Steve had his boyish grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. He looked at you, fondly, lovingly, melancholically, as you looked around, noticing the new photos on the wall. 

“Most of them are from Jonathan, some of them are your brother’s” You chuckled as you carefully looked at all of them, seeing what he had been up to. 

Him working at Family Video with Robin, him with his hands on his hips, apron on and full of flour with a rag over his left shoulder. Him asleep on the back of Eddie’s van. 

And your favourite one, Steve laing on your bed, looking straight through the camera, a smile that he was hiding behind his arm still evident by the way his face looks, barely woken up. You took that one, when he came to visit you, before you ended things. 

“You looked really beautiful.” You whisper, a tone of sadness could be noted on your voice. But your body relaxed when you felt him stepping closer to yours. 

“I don’t anymore?” He halved joked, the same lovesick look all over his face, his hair falling messily now that he had took his sweatshirt, hanging it back to you. A gesture that said you’re always cold before sleeping, you can wear it.

“Thanks.” You mutter before taking it, your body feeling his warmth through that piece of clothing. “You do. You always are.” 

He stood there for a second, and you could tell he wanted to say something he didn’t quite have the courage to do so. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He answered, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed. You scoffed as you shook your head. He knew that you were saying don’t lie, i know you better than anyone. “Think I’m still drunk.” 

“Maybe.” You admit with a half laugh, as you feel the weight of the alcohol that you did drink, and how it had swapped for tiredness not that the clock was closer to four. “You still have something in your mind.” 

“Yeah.” He stepped closer to you. His voice was softer, quieter, sweeter. And his eyes couldn’t stop looking at yours. Well, that might have been a lie, he did look at your lips once or twice. His hand reached for yours, nervous that you might pull away. But you never did. You never could. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” You squeezed his hand tighter, wanting that gesture to make his frown disappear, but you only see his anxiousness shine for a second. 

“I don’t know. Nothing? Everything?” 

“You’re not making that much sense, Stevie.” It had slipped out, the old nickname. You felt a bit embarrassed until you saw him smile. A true deep fond smile. 

“I know, honey.” His didn’t, he chose to say it. The dopiest grin that made your heart skip a beat came back, while his fingers played with yours. You could feel the warmness of your cheeks staying there. “I just… I meant everything I said, when we were together.” 

“What-?” 

He interrupted you, too iger to let you know what he had been thinking since he saw you through the club lights and the sea of drunk people. 

“I told you, you were the one I love. It hasn’t changed. I’ve tried, believe me. I tried to stop loving you, and move on, and be with someone else, anyone, but they never came close to you. Nobody knows me like you do, nobody can read me like you do, and I don’t think I can love anyone else like I have loved you.” 

With every word, with every breath your body came closer to his, excitement and electricity growing with every word that reached your ears, you couldn’t really believe that it was really happening. 

And you weren’t conscious about what you were doing before you did. You just knew that your right hand was tangled with his, and that your left one was cupping his cheek, looking fondly at his eyes before closing the distance between your lips. 

They were as soft as you remembered. And he still tastes the same as he did. 

You enjoyed it, for as long as you could, your heart beating as one, as your breathing synchronized, and his neediness became yours. Your kiss, this gesture, was enough, more than words could even say. 

“I haven’t stopped.” Your voice comes out lower, softer, quieter than you intended to. Your forehead pressed to his. Your eyes still closed, enjoying the way your breathing was mixing with his. 

“Thank god.” He giggled as he pulled you close once again. 

The second kiss was longer than the first one, but it still made your heart flutter, and your skin warming up in familiar desire. His free hand found his way to your waist, holding you closely, afraid that if he opens his eyes you might disappear. 

“We can talk about us, tomorrow.” 

“Yeah.” 

You buried his head on his chest, as he pushed you closer to him. A warm hug that you didn’t want to see the end of, a closeness that you’d missed, and that you hoped you didn’t have to miss again. 

The promise that tomorrow you’d wake up next to him again, and his warmth wrapping you up under the sheets let you actually rest for once.

-

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