#THE FUCKING /ENDING REVEAL/................

[thatguywiththetumb1er]

I've never seen a video that made me say "No WHY are you doing this?" Like that before.

Though that pales in comparison to the ending which went a little something like,

"What is your END GOAL here?"

*Video reveals its end goal*

"WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK. NONONONONONONONONO."

BLUE !!

[crescenthistory]

okkkkk could you argue list C 68 with regulus x legilimence reader (aka mind reading reader) and what regulus would do if he found out his gf could always tell when he's lying. Please? and congrats! amazing job!!

thank you for the request lovely! with how i see reg's characterisation, i cannot picture him taking that kind of information in lightly, so this is perhaps a bit angstier than you were aiming for ahaha. i am also evidently insane, so this is an in-depth character study:,) enjoy!

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i will ARGUE for prompt 68 "this is news to me" with regulus black

carina's 2k celebration

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synopsis: regulus visits your pseudo-family, the mckinnons, with you for the first time, expecting only to struggle with the unfamiliar family dynamics. instead, a part of you previously unknown to him is revealed in passing, and his mind shuts down, memories and fears from his childhood taking over. the conversation that follows is one of the hardest and most significant he would have in his life.

wc: 6.2k

cw: fem!reader, references to walburga and orion's a++ parenting skills, aka mentions of abuse, neglect and childhood trauma, angst, momentary belief of betrayal, fresh relationship, hurt/comfort, references to black brothers angst, regulus pov (including his mental health struggles), you are basically an honorary mckinnon, references to your bad relationship to your bio family (neglect), crying, near-break up, declarations of love, happy ending, the entire fucking mckinnon family tree as supportive characters

Regulus had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He had since the beginning of his relationship with you, when he realised the enormity of his feelings and was simultaneously frightened, disgusted and relieved, struggling to balance healing from his childhood and falling in love with his future all at the same time. 

A part of him wished to warn you, to urge you away, to shield you from the darkness within him through rejection – but, he was selfish. At least, that is the conclusion he reached for why he couldn’t turn away from you and leave you be, why he invited you in, despite knowing in his chest that the other shoe would drop. Regulus had grown up in the constructed shadow of Sirius, and though he now realises that was not his brother’s inherent fault, he still couldn’t rid himself of the clawing feeling in his chest that he would always have nothing. Always be second, always be the spare, even when Walburga was forced to declare him the heir after Sirius turned his back. He would always be left with portraits instead of bodies.

If you, with all your fascinating and lovely self, opened your arms to him, Regulus could not bring himself to ask you to close them. He would fall into them, all while keeping a cage around his heart and both his shoes on the ground, by the door. 

He had expected it to be his fault though. It would be a matter of him not being enough, yet again.

No part of him expected it to be you; for you to be different in a way that he couldn’t stomach.

Regulus sat stiffly but not necessarily uncomfortably in the worn out chair in the McKinnon living room, quietly observing the bustling homely life around him. It was the first time he came along when you visited, wanting to meet the people you spoke so kindly of and see more of the connection that originally brought the two of you together – he still had to thank Dorcas for falling in love with your best friend. 

There were more kids than he could count – metaphorically speaking, that is, because Regulus had of course studied up on exactly how many kids would be there and what their names were before arriving – running around his ankles. You were over in the adjunct kitchen, helping Mrs. McKinnon with finalising dinner, while Marlene was outside hounding in the remaining children and cousins. It was loud in a way that kept Regulus’ spine straight and muscles tense, but he could feel his mouth dreaming of curling up into a smile. It wasn’t as awful as he had feared.

He saw your form through the door-less opening, your clothes and hair moving in an elegant flow, a practised choreography. That sight, more than anything else, was what kept him grounded.

Regulus had, of course, asked to help, but Mrs. McKinnon – “It’s Magda, dear, please scrap the formalities” – had ushered him out. “You’re still a guest in this household! This one on the other hand… she’s got to be put to work.” A motherly wink and a bump of her hip into yours as you stuck your tongue out. Natural. Nurturing. 

He felt in no position to argue, so he settled down with the children.

“Pst!” He turned to look down at the littlest of Marlene’s nieces, a sweet girl named Mabel with her blonde unruly curls tucked up into two uneven buns on each side of her head. She smiled with an unmistakable air of mischief, lifting her tiny brows at him. “You’re Uncle Reg, right?”

Regulus’ breath caught in his throat as a nervous laugh built in his chest. He wasn’t offended that the little thing didn’t catch his introduction a full 45 minutes ago when he went around shaking hands and waving, but he was confused by his title.

“Uh, my name is Regulus, yes. And you’re Mabel?” He tried to make his voice kind, but was unsure if it was working. 

She nodded with beaming pride and happiness, glad to be known. “You’re Auntie’s husband.” She didn’t ask, which bamboozled Regulus further – she looked very pleased to have made the connection.

Regulus leaned forward onto his knees to be closer to her height as he chuckled, still with an air of nerves. “Not quite, no, but I am here with your Auntie, yes.”

Mabel furrowed her brows, contentment slipping away in favour of confusion. “No. Uncle Reggie is my Auntie’s husband. Marly said so.”

Ah. His nerves were being schooled away in favour of internally rolling his eyes at his new-found friend. “Well, Marlene probably just tried to convey that your Auntie and I are very very close, which we are. That’s why I want to be here and meet you all.”

“Uh-huh. When will you marry her then?”

Regulus could feel his heart jump out of his chest – as did Mabel’s when their heads both jumped up at the sound from the kitchen. “Oi, Belly! C’mere sweetheart!”

He looked over Mabel’s already giggling and retreating form as she ran towards you in true toddler-fashion, and saw you winking and grinning at him. He let out a sigh of relief at the same time as you picked Mabel up and spun her around.

“Don’t you be bothering Reggie now, or he won’t come back!” He heard you whisper-yelling conspiratorially to the little girl as you tickled her, high-pitched giggles bubbling up from her lungs along with faux-shrieks of denial.

His muscles remained tense, but Regulus looked down in his lap with a grin before pushing up from his seat to walk over to the kitchen, where Mabel was released and running away all giddily. You looked at him with a smirk over your shoulder, looking gorgeous with your hair slightly messed up from the heat of the kitchen. “The children scaring you away?”

Regulus leaned against the opening with his arms crossed, still keeping everything in the kitchen in eye-sight, lest there be anything he could help with after all. The smile he spared you was hopefully as warm as the oven you had slaved over. “It would take more than little Mabel to scare me away.”

“Here you go, Maggie,” you said over your shoulder as you handed her a knife where she was about to start cutting the final herbs on the opposite side of the kitchen, before turning back to Regulus. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, because we’re all about to sit down for dinner.”

“You are such an effortless team,” Regulus admired your wordless communication, putting on his practised visiting-the-in-laws smile towards Magda. “Please do let me know if there is anything I can help with, Mrs– uh, Magda.”

Magda sighed happily, looking over at you, gesturing with the knife perhaps a bit too absentmindedly. “You picked such a polite one, dear. It hurts my heart! Reg, please, all you need to do is keep us company.”

His gaze diverted down to his feet as a slight flush crept up his cheeks, a smile blooming between them. “Thank you, Magda.”

You looked over your shoulder at her with a loud laugh. “No, keep that to yourself Maggie, you’ll just embarrass him more.”

Regulus furrowed his brows in confusion, the comment seemingly out of place, but Magda laughed so heartily he didn’t have it in him to ask. He didn’t want to bring more attention than necessary to how different his socialisation had been from yours.

Despite her best efforts, Magda could not stop Regulus from helping deck the table as the two of you began magically sending everything out – though, he realised quickly that his definition of decking the table was clearly quite contrasting from yours. The McKinnons did it the simple way, and while unsettled, he wholly appreciated it.

Marlene had since come in with her youngest brother on her shoulders, tugging at her hair. “Snake-boy, you haven’t been eaten by these little lions yet?” She greeted with a grin, dropping her brother off in his seat and whistling to alert the rest of the family that dinner was ready.

“I’ve come to learn I quite like lions,” Regulus replied, his usual snark more readily available with her. “Though I wouldn’t have minded my fellow snakes here.”

Marlene snorted. “Yeah, well, Cassie and Barty had work, so.” She shrugged, pinching his upper arm as she walked past him to herd in the rest. “You’re stuck with us.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Regulus murmured and found that he meant it.

As the entire family settled down at the table, Regulus felt a bit less steady in his ability to remember everyone’s names, but he hoped muscle memory would kick in. When Magda heard you would be stopping by with Regulus, she ensured that all six of the McKinnon siblings, along with their respective partners and children, would show up. Regulus was in no way unfamiliar with large family gatherings, but the volume of their voices and smiles took some getting used to.

It didn’t hurt that he sat beside you – and that your hand came to squeeze his knee as everyone settled in and began chattering away.

There was no introduction, no speech, just immediate good natured conversations and catching up, including from one end of the table to another. 

“Pass me the potatoes?” Martin – Regulus remembered; Marlene’s other younger brother, aged 7 – asked, his eyes set on Regulus.

“Of course.” The movement was swift and elegant, bowl outstretched.

When Martin grabbed the bowl, he forgot to thank Regulus and instead asked, “So, what are your intentions with our sister?”

Regulus’ brows furrowed. “I– I’m not dating your sister?”

You squeezed his knee again, suppressing a giggle. “He meant me, dear.”

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed yet again. To be fair, he should have deciphered that one himself. “Well… I intend to care for her for however long she’ll let me.”

Martin seemed displeased. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” you intercepted, reaching out to lightly flick his forehead. “That you should mind your business, you little worm.”

Martin opened his mouth, outraged in a manner only a 7 year old boy can be, lifting his finger in the air. “I–”

“Oh, don’t you dare say that, Martin McKinnon!” You cut him off, already laughing and making the little boy laugh with you, even as he crossed his arms petulantly. 

“You’re no fun when you damage control too early,” he mumbled, despite his grin. 

Regulus tried to follow the conversation, but found his eyes squinted in confusion.

This is where Margaret – Marlene’s two years older sister – chimed in. “It’s called with great powers comes great responsibility, twat. With legilimency comes the responsibility of shutting silly little boys up!” She reached her hand over past Marlene to pinch Martin’s side, making him shriek and giggle despite himself.

Legilimency. 

Oh. Oh.

In a matter of seconds, Regulus’ world came crashing down. 

For a brief minute, his mind was painfully empty, unable to think anything or draw forth any memory, all instinctively hidden away, even from himself. Then, he broke through his own walls and had wave after wave of memories hit him – lessons of “close your mind, young boy”, repetitions of “you’re pathetic”, the piercing pain of trying to shut it all out, the stinging hurt of feeling betrayed by the people he instinctively loved. Those memories had a unique ache to them, one he hadn’t dared try to combat yet; but the ones with you hit him harder. “I would never do that to you”, “you’re safe with me”, “I would never lie to you”, “I just get you”. 

I just get you.

Except you didn’t – you were a mind-reader.

None of it was real.

Regulus sat frozen to his seat, the tensing of his muscles digging much deeper now. It was not eased in the slightest when your hand returned to his knee, a previous warm touch now disturbingly cold.

“Reg?”

It took an immense amount of force for Regulus to turn his head sideways and meet your eyes, trying to make his as unreadable as possible, trying to close his mind for the first time in months. 

“Are you alright?” Your voice was feather-light, a question just for the two of you. A brief glance around told Regulus that no one had noticed his deceptively quiet change. Or, at least, they had the decency to not continue to notice. 

An imperceptible nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile. No words. 

Your brows furrowed in dismay, clearly unconvinced, but knowing better than to push him in public. You squeezed his knee once more reassuringly before Martin and Margaret dragged you back into conversation. 

Regulus truly hoped no one addressed him going forward, because he couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. He wanted to further hope that if they did, you would answer for him and redirect, but he found his heart unable to trust you. It promptly shattered beneath the weight of that knowledge.

The dinner flurried by in a haze, your hand never leaving his knee and Regulus never getting used to its weight, always noticing with a sickening sinking feeling in his stomach.

The one thing that distracted him at last was a tug at his sleeve.

He whipped his head around, probably faster than what would be perceived as normal – to see little Mabel had run out of her seat and now sat at his side. She reached her small grabby hands up towards him. “Upsies!”

You leaned around him, smiling endearingly at Mabel, your hair moving in his peripheral vision. “Oh, Mabel, Uncle Reggie is a bit–”

Before you could make some excuse for him, Regulus leaned down to scoop her up. She was surprisingly light, it was honestly a miracle that such tiny lungs could produce a squeal so loud straight into his ear.

Regulus could feel your gaze burning a hole in the side of his face as he bounced the little girl in his lap. Mabel was giddy, immediately chattering away with you, Marlene and the others sitting nearby, holding onto his arms for support. He couldn’t explain how he was able to pick her up, still largely detached from his body while processing the day's revelations – but she was so young and vulnerable, he couldn’t stand breaking her heart by rejecting her. 

When Mabel leaned over to pat your cheeks and blabber with you, Regulus was forced to move his body in your direction. Your hand left his knee in favour of tickling Mabel, but the side of your leg was now pressed against his. As your lips met the little girl’s forehead your eyes met his at last.

What he saw in them is what he any other day would have labelled pure concern. Now, he had a white prickling fear down his spine that those thoughts were not his own. Even if they were, they were not his because they were not private. Another thing stripped from him. 

As Mirabel eventually came over to pick up her daughter from Regulus to go put her to bed, you also rose from your seat, getting a head-start on the dishes while Magda still sat, surrounded by grandchildren. Her head perked up when she saw you move about, but you waved her off kindly.

With robotic movements, Regulus got up and followed in your footsteps, not wanting his single visit to be remembered as rude. Picking up plates with much less skill than he had placed them down, he walked towards the kitchen that you were walking out of. 

You tried to smile as you walked past him, but he didn’t look at your face.

Regulus’ entire body ached.

It ached even more when he almost collided with Marlene on his way back out of the kitchen. She, unlike the two of you, was not carrying any plates, only herself, as she acted like a door barricading him from the rest. Her light brown eyebrows were furrowed.

“Who pissed in your cereal, Black?”

Regulus couldn’t help himself, despite the circumstances. “I didn’t eat cereal.”

The blonde breathed out in exasperation, hands coming up to rest on the sides of her hips, though her features softened a little. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m alright.”

“What changed, then?”

Regulus stared emptily at her, only to find his own stubbornness mirrored perfectly in her. In this moment, she painfully reminded him of Sirius; a thought he immediately tried to file away.

He sighed. “I just didn’t expect… I didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Marlene’s face slowly morphed into one of uncomfortable understanding, seemingly piecing together what she had come to learn about Regulus and what she knew of her best friend. Her question came out as a whisper. “About the… legilimency?”

He drew a sharp breath through his teeth. “That was news to me.”

Marlene opened her mouth to say something, but Regulus found the audacity to hold up his hand. He hoped his look was more politely pleading. “Please – don’t. I really don’t want to hear it yet.”

She pressed her lips tightly together, evidently distraught at not having the opportunity to defend her best friend. Yet, her internal monologue decided in his favour. “Fine,” she answered tightly. “You better figure it out though.”

With that, Marlene gave him a final look and turned on her heel, looking for some toddler to scoop up and throw over her muscled shoulder. Her retreating form revealed you standing there with some plates near the table, stalling by chatting with Mr. McKinnon, whom Regulus had done his best to avoid. You were looking at him. The ice in Regulus settled in deeper at the thought that you could have been privy to this conversation, too.

He sucked in a breath and turned around to begin washing the dishes. 

For whatever reason, you gave him a few minutes of space. With his back to you, he still remained painfully aware of you levitating dishes in to him in the kitchen as he began magically scrubbing them. Trying to scrub away his thoughts the same way, and then his feelings.

You gave him space, but you wouldn’t let him wallow – and thus, just when it felt like the world would never stop spinning, you placed your hand delicately on his shoulder. Everything stopped, for better or for worse. Regulus didn’t turn.

“Hi, love,” you whispered. “Ready to go home?”

Regulus turned around at that, desperate to keep neutral even as his face scrunched in confusion. “Didn’t you want to stay late?”

Your smile was wistful. “You see, I’ve gotten such a headache. Probably have become unadjusted to these environments. Magda has wrapped up some leftovers and gotten the floo network ready for us.”

Regulus’ heart twinged at the excuse you had concocted for him; then, it immediately broke as a voice reminded him that he couldn’t trust this, couldn’t trust you. The voice sounded eerily like his Mother’s.

At a loss, he found himself just barely nodding in agreement. 

He summoned enough courage to smile as he entered the living room, seeing most of the adults and older children gathered, some already running up to hug you goodbye. And not just you – Regulus suddenly had Martin and Milly at his feet for goodbye hugs. He went through the motions, politely hugging and waving goodbye, trying to distance himself from his body so he wouldn’t have to feel it.

Despite having no intention of returning, Regulus knew he had to make a good final impressions, so he walked up to Mr. McKinnon and stretched out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said with an as steady voice he could produce at the moment. 

The older man looked down at his hand and back up at his face, before using the outstretched hand as leverage to pull Regulus into a tight hug. “It’s Mason to you, son. Come back soon.”

Regulus nodded with a tight-lipped smile, saying nothing else as he turned towards the fireplace. There he received two almost identical hugs from Marlene and Magda, save that Marlene whispered “don’t overthink this” in his ear while Magda whispered “be good to each other, alright love?”

Never before had Regulus appreciated the flurry of travelling with the floo as much as now. 

When he landed in your flat beside you, everything felt quiet. Dark. 

Your shared living room felt like it was closing in on him and Regulus quite honestly might have thrown up, had that not involved a touch more vulnerability than he was willing to reveal now. Instead, he shrugged, trying to shake the feeling off him, and immediately made a beeline for the bedroom.

“Reg…” you whispered after him.

He didn’t respond; he closed the bedroom door behind him and leaned against it, effectively keeping it shut.

Feeling every bit like the 8 year old currently shaking in the depths of his memory, Regulus slid down the door, settling at the bottom of it, cradling his knees against his chest.

In the acute silence of your flat, he could hear your heavy sigh. He tried to interpret it without letting up on his attempts at occluding, at schooling his mind from you. It didn’t seem angry or disappointed, just… broken. He couldn’t decipher in what way. 

Once upon a time, he had become excellent at it, but in the presence of his friends and you, he had let it slip. Somehow it was harder to hide his thoughts around you because his feelings were so screaming loud.  

The creaking of the floorboards were unmistakable as you walked up to the bedroom door. He expected your hand on the handle, he expected a confrontation. Instead, he felt a soft thud against the door as you slid down on your side of it in parallel to Regulus himself. His mind began to imagine how you looked, how you leaned against it and slowed your descent down, how your head was turned sideways, looking down at the small gap beneath the frame – but if he began to imagine too much, he would lose his grip on his occlusion.

He drew a deep breath and leaned his head against the door. Closed his eyes. Focussed. 

“Regulus, my love.” Your voice was soft and quiet, slightly muffled through the door, but he could hear you alright. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours? What happened, lovely?” 

A flicker of irritation flamed in him at your word choice and he couldn’t stop himself from the bite in his words, the first real words he spoke to you since. “Can’t you just see for yourself?”

A momentary silence. “What is that supposed to mean?” A little wounded, a little wary.

“You know.” His voice was hoarse. The insistent voice in Regulus’ head was kicking him for engaging with you on this, for not waving his wand to pack his suitcase and run as far as possible. He didn’t want to think about why, but he… he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

He heard you shuffling through the door, as if you shifted sideways to pretend to see him through the door. “My love, is this… is this about the l-legilimency?” Your voice was shaking in a way that made Regulus’ face scrunch up in pain – you seemed scared and he hated it, even if he didn’t get why.

But if you were scared, he was terrified. “Of course it is,” he breathed out, frustration leaking into his voice. “Of course it is. You’ve deceived me.”

“I didn’t deceive you.” Your response was immediate. “I didn’t deceive you, I just didn’t tell–”

“That’s the same thing! You… you kept it from me.” Regulus curled up into a smaller ball, hands coming up to cover his face. Breathe. Close your mind. Breathe. Close your mind. 

You were silent for a second. “I have never used it on you. Regulus, I have never read your mind.”

“Bloody convenient that I would never know, huh?” He laughed darkly, spiralling further. 

“You could, if you wanted. I would… I would let you try to read mine. Anyone can learn, it’s just that I… I had to be born with it.” Your voice was wavering. It almost brought Regulus clarity, but he couldn’t bring himself to allow it to. “I promise you Reg, I wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he let his hands fall to either side of his body. He let out perhaps the worst-tasting sentence his lips had formed. “I don’t believe you.”

This time, you were silent for longer. 

You sounded painfully choked when you at last spoke up. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Regulus whispered in the same tone, and that was himself talking, not any voices. 

The unmistakable sound of you beginning to get up rang through the silent flat, and panic surged through Regulus’ heart. Your name blurted out past his lips before he could stop himself.

“W-wait.” He turned to face the door, sitting cross-legged and leaning his forehead against the wood. It was terrified defiance, self-perceived stupidity and relentless love that drove his speech. “Don’t go. Not yet, please.”

If you had walked away now, Regulus was sure he would have crumbled, he would have had to apparate to Barty’s and never look back. Instead, you let out a breath he was beginning to suspect was a sob and sat back down. He felt the soft thud of you leaning against the door once more – he hoped it was your forehead, that yours were pressed together with only the wood separating you.

“Explain. Please.”

Your breathing was ragged enough that Regulus knew you were crying, rubbing your face to rid yourself of the tears before they could fall too far, like you always did. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, voice high-pitched. “I didn’t… I don’t tell people. Anyone. Because of… because…”

Because of this exact moment.

You seemed to try to stabilise yourself. Regulus ached to reach for you but remained silently rooted in place, save for the way he nudged his forehead against the door as if it was your skin. 

“Why did you think I’m so close with the McKinnons?” you asked after what felt like an eternity of silence and brazing yourself. “Why do you think I’m not close with my family?”

Regulus didn’t have an answer to that. In his friend group, no one had a good relationship with their biological families and, if it could be helped, no one talked about it. A realisation began to settle in. “I just assumed… I just assumed they were bad.” He cringed at how weak of a response that was.

You laughed a bit dryly. “No, they were entirely justified. Who would want a freak for a daughter?”

If a single sentence could have changed his mind, it would have been that one. His eyes squeezed shut in pain as he shook his head. “Amour, you’re not–”

“No?” You cut him off, tone a bit pointed. Regulus could understand why. “Some people train for years to master legilimency but I came out of the womb seeing and understanding everything. It freaked me out and once they realised, same thing there. Only the McKinnons had enough children to not care for an oddball or two.”

Regulus trained his eyes on the little gap beneath the door. He placed one hand near it, not close enough to slide his fingers beneath, but enough for his fingertips to dream of it.

“They were kind to me, Regulus,” you whispered in a hauntingly sweet voice. “That’s why I… wanted you to meet them too.”

“They are kind,” he agreed at last, voice hoarse and rough.

The breath you let out at that thankfully sounded more like a choked laugh than another sob. “I tried to get rid of it, you know. I learned to control it, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I couldn’t stand living like this. So I… I don’t do it anymore. I hold back. I don’t read minds, I don’t read feelings or instincts unless I absolutely have to or… unless that person wants to. The McKinnons want to and with them it’s never been… something bad. It usually makes me feel sick, but it feels good with them. I don’t tell people because I don’t want them to know that I can do it, not because I don’t want them to know that I am doing it. I swear to you Regulus, I swear, I have never read your mind.”

At last, tears spilled down his cheeks. Searing and stinging, dripping over porcelain skin and splattering softly against the floor. “You should have told me, amour.” It was all he could say.

“I’m sorry.” He supposed that was all you could say.

Regulus fought for power over his own voice as tears continued spilling. He fought for power over his mind that was still screaming at him that you could be lying, he fought for power over his heart that knew you weren’t but was busy splintering at the pain you’ve carried. Of all the things he prepared himself for this afternoon, this conversation was not it.

“I am sorry,” he managed to force out at last, urgent. “Trust… trust is everything to me, and it is nothing because I almost never have it. That isn’t your fault, it’s– it’s probably my parents. I don’t talk of them. I don’t want to talk of them, you know this, but they– they would use anything against me. Anything I said or did, but also anything I thought or felt. It terrifies me that someone might have control of me.”

It cut him so deep to speak those words out loud, to share them with someone else, but either you had read his mind and already knew, or you were true, in which case you deserved to know. He heard you sniffle through the door.

“I would never.” Your voice was adamant despite how it broke. “I would never. You’re the one with control over me. I love you so deeply Regulus, I would never intentionally hurt you.”

“That’s what she would say,” he whispered. Not because he didn’t believe you, but because he needed to say it.

Your hand came down to rest near enough the gap beneath the door that he could see your fingers. “Did you feel loved by her?”

A sob. “No.”

Your next question was tentative, fragile. “Do you feel loved by me?”

It scared him that it was an immediate answer for him. “Yes.”

Your fingers scooted beneath the door, an open invitation. Slowly, as if this was the major decision, Regulus moved his fingers to brush against yours, to rest side by side under the door.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you before we went,” you whispered with a renewed energy. “I can’t say I’m sorry for not telling you right away, because I wouldn’t have been able to – but you didn’t deserve to find out like this and I should have known better. I am so sorry for putting you through this.”

Regulus’ fingers pushed more firmly against yours, tear tracks on his face drying slowly. “You didn’t put me through anything.”

You laughed quietly, shortly, unsure of how much was allowed, unsure what would happen. He didn’t really know either, acting on his heart’s instinct in a way wholly unfamiliar to him. 

“I’m sorry for reinforcing your fears,” he whispered then. “You’re not a freak. To me personally or in general. You’re not. You’re beautiful and wonderful and so capable. Legilimency isn’t… freakish, it’s a skill and a weapon. It’s the weaponisation that scares me.”

“Will you be able to live with the fear?” you asked, voice small. “I promise I will never weaponise it, never use it on you, but… is that enough?”

Regulus was quiet.

Then – “Can we open the door?”

“It’s up to you, my love.” Your voice sounded more defeated than he liked.

He withdrew his fingers and slowly lifted himself back up, slightly lightheaded as he reached for the handle. Tentatively, he turned it and opened the door inward, finding you sat in the exact same position he had been, cross-legged in front of the door.

You began to sit up, but before you could, Regulus quickly sat back down in front of you – this time, without the door separating you. Your legs were pressed against each other and slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out to place his hands over yours folded in your lap.

The sight of your face, riddled with many more tears than what Regulus had caught through the door, eyes shining with uncertainty was enough to tear him apart. He squeezed your hands.

“I– I love you.” The words were thick, incredibly hard to form on his tongue. “I do. And that is your greatest weapon against me, probably much more than legilimency could be. I didn’t think I could withstand it, but now… I don’t think I can do anything else. I can’t lose you.”

A few more tears rolled down your cheeks. Your lips trembled, but curled into a small smile nonetheless. With delicate movements, you turned your hands so that you could intertwine your fingers with his. “You couldn’t lose me. Even if you left, I would still have been yours, just a lot more heartbroken about it.”

Regulus laughed wetly. “We’re not wired right, amour. We’re just not.”

You leaned forwards and Regulus met you halfway, foreheads finally touching. “It doesn’t matter,” you whispered. “We can rewire each other together. You just… have to believe me. Trust me.”

He closed his eyes, leaning more heavily against you. “I trust you. I do trust you, it’s just– it’s just my mind that doesn’t. And not because of you, it can’t trust anyone. Not even Barty, not even Pandora. Not even Sirius.”

You let out a breath of laughter. “I know all about battling your mind. If your heart trusts me, I reckon that’s enough for me.”

Regulus drew you closer, moving his fingers up to hold your wrists, delicate long fingers spreading out over supple skin. “If you are trying to figure out if you are enough for me, amour, then of course. Of course you are, yes. That’s why it would break me so if you weren’t true, if you had been deceiving me – you’re not just enough for me, you’re all I need.”

He could feel your tears landing on his forearms as you gently nudged your nose against his in response.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

Somehow, you still gave it to him. You tipped your chin upwards and let your lips meet his in a slow, wet kiss. Every movement spoke of dozens of layers of emotions, layers that were stripped back and doted on as your hands continued its caress up his arms and shoulders to cup his face and hold it like it was yours. 

Regulus sighed into the kiss, leaning more of his weight against you as he enveloped you, inviting him into his very being despite how hard he fought to keep you out earlier. The Walburga-like voice in his mind was drowned out as he tried to repeat mantras over and over to wash it away.

Her, her, her, her.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

Safe, safe, safe, safe.

When you came apart, you kept peppering small soft kisses around his lips, cheeks and nose, catching the last of Regulus’ tears as they fell. Your hands cradled his face so gently it almost hurt, but this was a kind of pain he welcomed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated breathlessly.

“Please don’t be,” you whispered back, moving to kiss his closed eyelids with reverence.

“I always will be.”

“As will I.”

Regulus opened his eyes to frown at you. With a slight smile, you leaned in to kiss it away. He let you and hummed as he deepened the kiss, holding you close.

It was a tender, fragile night as the candles around your flat were finally lit and you changed into more comfortable clothes to hold each other on your wide window sill, looking at the stars as you talked it through.

The atmosphere remained somewhat tense, but in the same way you are tense after almost losing your partner on the battlefield, not the tension that comes from any lingering hostilities. Regulus kissed your shoulders softly each time he wanted to speak but didn’t know how, lips pressed against skin in silent apologies and declarations and promises.

You believed him – and you trusted that he believed you. 

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Good Morning

Dad! Bang Chan x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: Sweet Morning time activities Warnings: SMUT, oral (both receiving) unprotected p in v (Plz use protection) fingering. A/N: I hope this was close to what my sweet anon wanted! Thank y'all for your patience on getting these fics out! And thank you so much for your love and support for Dad! Chan. Please comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Requests are OPEN

Chan’s lips meet your neck as the sun begins to shine through your bedroom window. You stir awake, the feeling comforting and familiar. You smile as you awake from your slumber, a soft moaning escaping your throat as you feel his teeth graze your soft skin.

“Good morning,” he mumbles in your ear, the deep voice Aussie drawls. Chan’s voice has always been attractive, but mix in his morning voice and your practically a puddle.

“Good morning,” you smile lazily at him as his lips connect to yours in a sweet kiss. At first it's subtle, Chan’s tongue ghosts over you bottom lip, teasing you. But when you don’t push him off he runs his tongue over your lip again, and you separate your lips.

His tongue runs over yours, both of you moaning quietly as the kiss deepens. Your fingers find the ends of his hair on his neck. You can feel him smile against your lips as his hand rubs your side up and down.

“So sweet,” he almost whimpers against your lips.

“Wanna taste,” he mumbles as his lips move down to your neck. You smile as you feel his knee come between your legs, causing your sleep dress to hike up. You feel his sharp teeth drag across your soft skin, no doubt marking your collar bone. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he licks over the spot.

He helps you sit up and drags the sleep dress over your head revealing your naked body. Chan licks his lips as he gently pushes you back against the mattress.

He begins to kiss down your chest, flicking his tongue over a nipple, his cock growing harder in his boxers with every sound you make.

Quiet gasps, little moans as your nails lightly scratch his scalp, all of it making him a desperate mess.

He kisses down your abdomen, slowly, savoring the moment and building your anticipation.  

He notices you squirming and bites down on your thigh as he settles between your legs.

“Ah, Chan,” you gasp. He smirks as he kisses the area, kissing his way to your folds.

“Mm, so pretty,” he praises and you blush with a quiet groan, trying to push his face closer.

“Baby,” you whine your thighs lightly pressing against his head. He rubs them before locking his arms around them and pulling you down slight. His tongue lips a stripe up your soaking cunt, collecting your taste on his tongue and he moans.

“So sweet,” he murmurs as he dives in like a man starved. Your hips jerk at the force of his tongue, your body arching every so slightly, the feeling going straight to your stomach.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as your eyes shut. Chan looks up at you, one breast in hand as your hips shift under him. His tongue does figure eight’s on your clit, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. Gasps can be heard as he inserts his middle finger, achingly slow, he starts to pump in and out, while still massaging your bud.

“Fuck,” you choke out as your hips roll to meet his thrusts.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly. He adds another finger, his tongue moving impossibly faster.

“Oh God,” you cry out as he picks up the pace with his fingers. Choked out gasps leave your mouth as your head spins, the euphoric feeling close.

“I’m close,” you whimper out. He goes what you can only imagine would be described as super sonic speed, wet sounds filling the room along with your noises.

“Fuck, baby, yes- ah, just like that, oh fuck,” your legs shake as your body explodes, the feeling washing over you as he fucks you through your first high. But he isn’t finished, he slows down, letting you come down but his tongue reattaches to your sensitive bud.

“AH, Chan,” your legs shake with the direct contact and over stimulation.

“Come on baby, one more,” he kisses your thigh as he pumps his fingers. Your hips roll with his thrusts again, his fingers curling to hit your sweet spot.

“Ah, Chris,” you whimper. He keeps his fingers inside you but crawls up to kiss your lips, causing you to taste yourself. His forehead rests on yours as his fingers pump in and out quickly. He feels your walls contract around his fingers, and his own cock starts to become uncomfortable.

Your mouth falls open as your next wave of pleasure hits, your whole body going stiff as it shakes under him. Chan kisses your neck, thrusting in and out of you slowly.

“Fuck,” you breathe out with your chest heaving as you catch your breath. You kiss Chan’s lips passionately.

“Get on your back,” you command and he pulls his fingers out of you cleaning them before doing what you told him to.

You take his cock out of his boxers, the tip leaking and red. You lick your lips before pumping him a few times, a sharp hiss leaving his mouth.

“Ah,” he chuckles at your teasing as your thumb rubs over his slit. His smile is one of the most beautiful things you ever seen and your heart swells before you slowly wrap your lips around his thick cock. A gasp leaves Chan’s mouth as you slowly sink down, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Gnah,” he gasps, as he wills himself to look at you. His hand finding the back of your head, not to force you but just to hold onto you, to help ground him.

“Fuck,” he whimpers as your tongue swirls around him. The saltiness hits your tongue and you moan around him, causing vibrations to be sent through him. His head tilts back as he moans his mouth agape. You pump what little bit you can’t fit in your mouth as you accelerate your speed.

Moans and whimpers leave his mouth, and you start to feel it twitch when Chan gently pulls you up.

“I wanna be in you,” he says before smashing your lips together. You reach down, teasing his slit one last time and he shutters. He lays you on your back, lining himself up at your entrance.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” you breathe as he slowly pushes in, both of you moaning.

“So fucking tight,” he grunts.

“Fuck,” he says as he shifts his hips backwards, only to slam them back into you and you gasp as his cock hits that perfect little spot inside you. His head drops to your shoulder as he ruts into you like a dog in heat. You can feel his hot breath on your collarbone, his groans causing your walls to contract around him, causing him to moan and groan more.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Look at how well you’re taking my cock,” he whispers in your ear.

“Fuck,” his hips speed up faster as his fingers go down to your clit. He starts to rub circles, furiously, against it.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chokes out as he rests his forehead on yours.

“Harder,” you whimper and he obliges, with both his hand and hips.

“Oh shit, fuck I’m close, I’m close.” You whimper as the tightening in your stomach hits.

“Ah, Chan,” your hands go this back, nails scratching down it, as your body explodes. The feeling of your nails pushing Chris over the edge as he comes with you. Both of you riding your high out together as you feel the warmth he spreads within you.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out as Chan pulls out of you out of breath.

“Well good morning,” he chuckles and you roll over to him resting your head on his sweaty chest.

“Good morning,” you say as you press a kiss to it. Chan takes your hand, holding you close to him.

“Y/n,” he asks.

“Hmm?” you watch as he mindlessly plays with your fingers. After a beat of silence you look up at him.

“I love you.” He smiles and your heart skips a beat.

“I love you too, Channie,” you kiss his lips passionately. This is the first time Chan has ever told you he loved you. It's a moment you know you'll cherish.

“Eomma!” Hwan busts through the door and you yank the covers up to make sure you’re covered.

“Appa!” He yells dragging his Wolf Chan plush with him.

 “Breakfast!!” He shouts as he jumps on the bed. You look at your boyfriend before bursting out into fits of laughter.

“All right buddy,” Chan says as he puts your little boy down on the floor.

“Go to the kitchen, I’ll meet you there.” Hwan runs as fast as his little legs will take him.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes please,” you say before kissing him again.

Tags: @breakmeoff

Please do not repost my work

Love notes, comments and requests are appreciated!

[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"You´re the Love That I´ve Looked for"

WC: 10.3k

Summary: Alexia finally got to feel the silence she made you live in, Tofu wouldn’t look at her and you wouldn’t answer. But she stayed, and slowly you start rebuilding what was broken.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 , Pt.4 , Pt. 5

The door shut so softly it felt cruel. Not a slam. Not a scream. Just… a closing. The end of something that used to matter.

Alexia didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. She just stood there, duffel strap digging into her shoulder, heartbeat loud in her ears, like her body was trying to make noise in a silence that had already swallowed her whole.

Tofu didn’t move. He sat by the door, nose to the floor, eyes trained on the spot you had disappeared through. Perfectly still. Like he didn’t need the door to open to know you were gone.

Alexia let the bag fall first. Then her body followed.

She dropped to her knees like her legs had stopped knowing how to hold her, hands trembling, breath stuttering into something smaller. Quieter. She reached out to Tofu slowly, fingers outstretched like maybe he could fix it. Maybe he would let her hold on to something.

“Tofu,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Chiqui, I- I messed it up.”

He didn’t look at her. Didn’t shift. Just kept his eyes on the door like she didn’t exist.

A sob caught in her throat, sharp and ugly. She buried her face in her hands and tried to keep it in, but it clawed its way out anyway. Guttural, aching, desperate. Her shoulders shook. Her ribs folded. She curled into herself on the floor like grief had a grip on her spine.

“I just wanted her to talk to me,” she gasped to the dog. “I didn’t think she’d actually want to meet me.”

Another sob. Louder now. A broken, bitten-off sound that made her wince even as it left her mouth.

“I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

Tofu gave a low whine. Not in sympathy, but annoyance. Then turned his back to her.

It felt like getting slapped.

Alexia pressed her forehead to the floor. Cried harder.

“I didn’t know how else to come home to her. I thought… I thought if I could be someone she didn’t hate, maybe I could find a way back.”

She turned her head. Tofu still faced the door, ears flicking, body tense.

“She’s gone,” Alexia whispered, throat torn. “She’s really gone.”

She reached for him again, fingertips brushing his side.

Tofu growled loudly and Alexia pulled her hand back like she’d been burned. She sat frozen for a moment, then broke down completely. Quiet sobs wracking her chest, fists pressed to her mouth like maybe shame could be swallowed whole.

This wasn’t how she imagined it. Not the reveal. Not the aftermath. Not this loss. She thought maybe there’d be yelling. Or slamming doors. Or one of those movie fights where someone cried and the other stayed. But this?

This was worse.

No sound. No forgiveness. No hand reaching back.

Just a closed door and a dog who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

She stayed there for too long. Knees pressed to the floor and tears soaking into the cuffs of her sweatshirt. Her phone lay abandoned somewhere next to her, face-down, like it couldn’t bear to be seen right now.

Eventually, she crawled over to it. Then sat on the floor against the couch, legs curled into her chest, staring at the thread that had meant everything.

[lostinthecrowd]: What if I want to see you anyway?

The message that broke the dam and set this ending in motion. She scrolled up, past the dumb jokes, the soft moments, the pieces of herself she only knew how to offer in writing. It all looked different now. Wrong.

She opened a blank reply. Typed:

“I’m sorry.”

Backspaced.

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to talk to me if it was really me.”

Deleted that too.

Her fingers hovered. Then dropped.

Finally, she typed:

“I fucked up so badly.”

“I know I don´t deserve it, deserve you.”

“But I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

She didn’t send it.

She just hit save. Then let the phone fall from her lap to the floor again. Behind her, Tofu paced once, then settled in your usual spot on the couch.

Alexia watched him. “I gave you to her,” she whispered, voice splitting down the middle. “You’re supposed to be hers.”

Tofu barely turned his head when he let out a sharp, pointed bark.

Not startled. Not afraid.

Accusing.

Like he knew exactly what she did.

Alexia´s chest caved.

She didn’t deserve forgiveness. Not from him. Not from you.

She stayed on the floor until the shaking dulled. Until her fingers went numb against the tile. Until the grief stopped screaming and started whispering, meaner and closer. Like it had learned her name.

Alexia didn’t sleep that first night.

She tried. God she really tried. She lay in the bed the two of you used to share, arms crossed over her chest like a corpse, staring at the ceiling with dry eyes and a churning stomach. Your side of the mattress stayed untouched. Cold. Still smelled like the leave-in you always used.

But she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t stay in the bed you’d walked away from.

So she ended up on the couch, knees to her chest, still in the sweatshirt she flew home in, head tipped back like maybe gravity would drain the ache out of her body.

Tofu had jumped up onto the cushions once. Just once. He stood on the armrest, surveyed the room like a tiny general, and then hopped down with purpose. She didn’t think much of it. Thought maybe he was headed for the kitchen.

But hours later, she found him.

Not in his bed. Not on the blanket you always tucked into the corner for him.

No.

He was lying on the doormat. Right in front of the door. Nose pointed at the seam. Completely still.

Like he was waiting.

Like he knew you hadn’t just left, you were gone.

She crouched slowly, heart lurching at the sight of him.

“Tofu,” she said gently. “C’mon, bebe. Come sleep with me.”

Nothing.

She reached out, hand tentative.

And he growled at her.

A sound that said: You don’t get to touch me.

She recoiled like he’d burned her. Swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. That’s fair.”

She backed away, hands up. Sat in the hallway until the sun started to rise, watching him guard the last place he saw you. Like if he blinked, he might miss you coming home.

The next morning, Alexia tried again.

She got up earlier than she needed to and moved through the apartment like it might bite her. The kitchen lights were too bright and the silence had teeth.

She filled Tofu’s bowl exactly the way you showed her in the photos you used to send. Warm water, just a splash. Not too much kibble. A few careful bites of leftover chicken from the fridge. She even cut them into perfect little cubes, tiny and bland, the way you insisted was better for his stomach.

She placed the bowl down gently. Sat back on her heels.

“Tofu,” she said softly, like a peace offering. “I did it right this time. Just like she does.”

He approached slowly. Sniffed the bowl.

Then sniffed her.

Then turned around and walked out of the room.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just… pointed. The kind of slow, deliberate rejection that didn’t need words to say: I don’t trust you either.

Alexia stared after him, lips parted like she might argue with a dog. Then closed her mouth, leaned back against the cabinets, and let out a bitter little laugh.

“Alright..” she muttered. Behind her, the untouched bowl sat in the quiet. Waiting. Just like everything else in this apartment.

By the third day, Alexia had fully unraveled into someone who talked to a dog like he was her therapist. Or a very small, judgmental roommate with better morals than her.

“Okay, here’s what I know,” she said, pacing the kitchen with a spoon in one hand and a towel slung over her shoulder like she had a plan.

“She left you with me. Which means, in her heart of hearts, she still thought there was something in me worth trusting. Right?”

Tofu blinked at her from his spot curled up near the radiator. His tail was tucked tight. His ears twitched once but didn’t perk. He looked unimpressed. Maybe even bored.

Alexia kept pacing.

“She didn’t say goodbye to you,” she pointed out. “Not really. She just said ‘stay.’ That has to mean something.”

Tofu yawned.

She turned back to the stove. The soup was already starting to bubble and something smelled off.

“Shit,” she hissed, spinning to turn the heat down. “No, no. Fuck!”

The pot hissed in protest as she fumbled for a spoon, knocking over a half-empty water glass in the process. It spilled onto the counter, into the drawer. She groaned, mopping it up with the towel on her shoulder, which immediately made everything worse.

“Okay. Okay. We’re still alive. That’s something.”

Tofu snorted behind her. Not a sneeze. A snort.

She turned around, hair a mess, hoodie stained with broth, damp towel dangling from her hand like a white flag.

“Don’t judge me,” she muttered. “This is grief. I’m grieving.”

Tofu stood up, stretched dramatically like she wasn’t even worth the energy it took, and walked out of the kitchen without a sound.

Alexia stared after him.

“Wow,” she said to the empty doorway. “Incredible bedside manner.”

Silence answered.

So she ate burnt soup alone. And when she left the bowl of kibble out for him later, chicken chopped, water warm and perfect, you still didn’t come back.

But Tofu curled up on your side of the bed that night, a huge space between him and Alexia, facing the door. Just in case.

The first crack came that same night.

Alexia woke up with a start, chest heaving, heart pounding like it had been running in her sleep. Her shirt clung damp to her back, her throat dry. She sat up too fast and blinked into the darkness, pulse roaring in her ears.

The bed was cold.

She reached across the sheets before she could stop herself. Habit, not hope and her hand met nothing but the tucked-in corner where you used to sleep. The ache bloomed again. Dull now, but constant. It was amazing how silence could hum when it wanted to hurt you.

The apartment hadn’t known laughter in so long. She hadn’t either.

She curled her knees toward her chest, burying her face in them, trying not to cry again. The grief was quieter now, but heavier. Not a wave, just weight. Sitting in her lungs. Stretching out behind her eyes. Every breath felt borrowed.

Then, soft. Barely there.

A gentle pressure against her ankle.

She froze.

Lifted her head slowly.

Tofu.

He was standing beside the bed, one paw on her leg, head low, ears flat. He wasn’t curled up like he wanted comfort. He wasn’t wagging. Wasn’t looking for affection. He was just there.

Present.

Watching.

Not forgiving. Not forgetting. But not walking away either.

“I know,” Alexia whispered, throat tight. “I miss her too.”

Tofu didn’t move. Just blinked once and stayed exactly where he was.

And god, it wrecked her more than if he’d snarled.

Because it meant something. Not trust. Not yet. But acknowledgement. She wasn’t forgiven, but she wasn’t alone.

The next morning, that crack became an argument.

Tofu, and her by extension, hadn’t left the house in four days. Every time she clipped the leash, he sat down. Every time she opened the door, he refused to budge. When she tried to lure him with treats, he turned his head away like she’d offered him poison.

But this morning? This morning he barked.

Loud.

Once. Then twice. Then again, louder, sharper, until she came stumbling into the room with her hoodie inside-out and one sock on.

“What? What do you need?”

He whined and walked in a slow, angry circle.

Then barked again. Shoved his nose into the leash where it hung by the door.

“Oh,” Alexia blinked. “You… want to go now?”

Tofu didn’t bark again. Just glared.

And when she reached for the leash, he let her clip it on but growled the moment she hesitated.

She winced. “Okay, okay! I’m going!”

It wasn’t a walk so much as a hostage negotiation. He pulled. She tripped. He stopped to growl at a leaf. She apologized to a trash can. He barked at a bike rack and nearly dislocated her shoulder.

But they walked.

Together.

And when they came back inside, panting and annoyed and soaked from the shoulders down because Alexia forgot to check the weather, Tofu shook out his fur, trotted back to the bed, and claimed your pillow.

Alexia stood there dripping in the hallway, heart thrumming.

By the end of the week, something shifted.

Alexia was on the couch, folding the same sweatshirt for the third time like it might somehow keep her hands too busy to unravel. The TV murmured in the background, some forgettable, low-effort reality show she wasn’t really watching. Just noise to fill the apartment that had been echoing since the moment you walked out.

She almost missed it. A flicker of motion in her periphery.

Tofu.

Not camped by the front door. Not glaring at her from across the room with that weirdly human look of betrayal. He was on the couch, awkward, stiff and clearly uncertain.

Not on your side.

But curled half on top of the hoodie she'd thrown off days before. The one still smelling faintly like her regret, like every night she hadn’t known how to be soft with you until it was too late.

Tofu must’ve dragged it down from the chair. Tugged it across the cushions like some grumpy little dragon hoarding relics that didn’t belong to him. His chin rested on the sleeve, tucked in like he was guarding it. Not in comfort. In loyalty.

Alexia didn’t breathe. Didn’t move.

Her phone sat on the armrest. She reached for it carefully, like a wrong breath might scare him off. Opened the camera and took one photo. Slightly blurred, off-center. But real.

She typed slowly.

[go4goald2]: He misses you. I miss you more.

But she didn’t send it right away.

She stayed on the floor, spine pressed to the couch, staring at him. At the hoodie. At the space where you used to nap, laugh, pull her down beside you like gravity.

Tofu’s breathing was steady. Peaceful. Not for her. Not yet. But not guarded, either.

Her finger hovered.

Then tapped send.

She didn’t expect anything back. Not after what she’d done. Not after the way you looked at her like she’d ruined something sacred.

But her phone buzzed.

She stared at it for too long before daring to open it.

[lostinthecrowd]: He looks cozy.

Three words. Not warm. But present.

Then, another.

[lostinthecrowd]: Thanks for taking care of him. I know he’s not easy.

She glanced at Tofu again, now flopped sideways, one paw tossed across the hoodie like he was dramatically exhausted by the weight of his own judgment. His tail flicked once. Almost lazy.

Alexia smiled. Barely.

“I’m trying,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

She typed:

[go4goald2]: He growled at me for three days. I deserved it.

Then her thumbs moved again.

[go4goald2]: I’ve been trying to get him to eat. Did the chicken the way you taught me. He licked it once. Stared at me like I insulted his ancestors.

[lostinthecrowd]: Sounds about right.

She smiled. It was small. Crooked. It cracked and healed her all at once.

[go4goald2]: But today he sat next to me. Like, actually next to me. No side-eyes. No dramatic huffs. It felt like a miracle.

No reply came for a while.

And she almost let it sit there, like everything else between you.

But then the typing bubble appeared.

[lostinthecrowd]: Maybe he’s waiting for me. But letting you try anyway.

God.

Alexia felt her eyes sting again. She blinked up at the ceiling. Then typed:

[go4goald2]: That’s what this is. All of this. Me trying. Not knowing how to fix it, but trying anyway.

[go4goald2]: I know you don’t trust it yet. I get it. But if there’s a version of us that can still be built... I want to build it. Even if it takes forever.

There was a pause. Then:

[lostinthecrowd]: He tried to steal my spoon the first night I had him.

Alexia laughed.

Like, actually laughed. A breathy, shocked sound that felt clumsy in her mouth.

[go4goald2]: Of course he did. He’s got main character energy.

[lostinthecrowd]: He really does. Threw a sock in the toilet once just to make a point.

[go4goald2]: A menace. A genius.

[go4goald2]: I think he likes being yours, though. Even if he pretends not to.

[lostinthecrowd]: Maybe. He always did want his own storyline.

Then, a beat.

[lostinthecrowd]: How is he now?

Alexia looked over.

Tofu had shifted closer without her noticing. Not touching her. Not curled into her side. But near. Watching her with half-lidded eyes. His ears relaxed.

She took a photo: soft light, tired dog, the sock still under one paw and sent it.

[go4goald2]: Still waiting for you. But not angry anymore. I think he’s starting to believe in me.

The reply came a minute later.

[lostinthecrowd]: He doesn’t do that easily.

Alexia exhaled, slow and uneven.

[lostinthecrowd]: But neither did I.

She let that one sit. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether to push or stay still. But the quiet on the other side didn’t feel closed off anymore. It felt like breathing room. A window left cracked.

So the next night, she sent a photo of Tofu sprawled belly-up across the living room rug, paws twitching in some dream-fueled chaos. His tongue lolled sideways. One of her shoes rested between his front legs like he’d claimed it as a trophy. He wasn’t chewing it. Just… holding it. Like he knew it mattered to her.

[go4goald2]: Is this emotional manipulation or just standard pettiness?

The reply came quickly.

[lostinthecrowd]: It’s a loyalty test. You’re failing.

Alexia smiled at the screen. Really smiled this time. Let the warmth stay a little longer than usual.

Later that week, she found him curled up in the laundry basket again. Not sleeping. Just there. Still. Silent. His body draped over one of your old T-shirts, eyes fixed on the front door like maybe if he stared long enough it would open.

She didn’t caption the photo. Just sent it.

The reply came five hours later, in the middle of the night.

[lostinthecrowd]: You’re doing better than I thought you would.

That one hit her differently. Not a punch. Not a sting. Just a shift. Like the first groan of thawed ground after winter.

Her thumb hovered, then typed:

[go4goald2]: I talk to him like you used to. Out loud. Like he understands me.

[go4goald2]: Sometimes I think he does. Sometimes I think he’s judging me with your voice.

The typing bubble blinked, then disappeared, then blinked again.

[lostinthecrowd]: That’s because he is.

It made something flutter behind her ribs. Not joy. Not quite. Just closeness. Something that didn’t feel so far anymore.

She leaned into it.

[go4goald2]: I think I’m getting better at hearing it. Your voice, I mean.

[go4goald2]: Even if it’s just in my head.

[go4goald2]: But I’d rather have the real thing.

There was no immediate answer.

No dot-dot-dot.

Just stillness.

She didn’t push. She couldn’t. Not now, at least.

That night, it rained. Not a downpour, just a soft, consistent drizzle that made the windows hum and the streets glow gold under the streetlights. The kind of rain you used to love. You once told her it made the city sound like it had a secret.

Tofu settled by her feet, chin resting on her ankle like he was claiming it in sleep. Alexia pulled a blanket over her knees, hoodie zipped high, and stared at the window like it might talk back.

She didn’t plan it. Just hit record.

Her voice was quiet. Steady.

“The rain’s asking for you.”

That was it.

She didn’t expect a reply.

But just before sunrise, her phone buzzed.

[lostinthecrowd]: Is the window still broken in the bedroom?

Alexia sat up so fast she startled the dog. Her hands were already shaking as she typed.

[go4goald2]: No. I fixed it last week.

[go4goald2]: It doesn’t whistle anymore.

[go4goald2]: … Do you want to come see for yourself?

Silence.

She waited, nerves crawling beneath her skin.

Then:

[lostinthecrowd]: If I do…

[lostinthecrowd]: Will there be tea?

Alexia bit down a breath that felt like it might wreck her.

[go4goald2]: There’ll be tea. And silence. And your side of the bed still cold.

[go4goald2]: You don’t have to explain anything. Just… be here. If you want to be.

She hit send.

Then rested the phone on her chest like it might feel her heartbeat. Like it might carry the message further than words could reach.

Alexia hadn’t expected a reply after her previous one went unanswered.

But she sent the message anyway.

[go4goald2]: I keep wondering if we would’ve made it if I’d never let it get this far. If I’d just told you the truth right away.

You saw it that night.

Didn’t respond. Didn’t even open the thread right away. Just stared at the preview in your notifications, thumb hovering like maybe the message would disappear if you looked away long enough.

Because yeah. You’d wondered too.

Wondered what would’ve happened if she’d been honest. If she hadn’t hidden behind a screen. If it hadn’t taken pretending to be someone else to finally say the things you needed to hear. Would you have come back on your own? Would you have stayed? Would it still have felt like a betrayal?

You didn’t have the answer. But you knew one thing for sure:

That version of the story, the kinder one, the easier one, it didn’t happen.

So you left the message unread.

And far across the city, Alexia stared at the lack of a reply like it had weight. Heavy. Expected. 

Still brutal.

That night, the rain started again.

Not a storm. Just a slow, steady drizzle that tapped against the windows like a heartbeat she couldn’t shut out. She lay in bed, hoodie still on, legs tangled in sheets she hadn’t bothered to straighten in days. Her arm moved before her mind did, stretching across the mattress toward the other side. Your side.

It was cold.

Always was now.

Just a dent in the pillow. Just a memory of weight. No warmth. No hand reaching back.

“I should’ve said it was me from the start,” she whispered into the dark, barely louder than the rain.

No one answered. Not the room. Not the ache in her ribs. Not even the dog curled at the far end of the bed, resolutely not touching her.

The next day, while doing laundry she’d put off for way too long, her hand brushed something soft. Worn. Familiar. She pulled it out slowly, already knowing what it was by feel alone.

Your shirt.

The one with the stretched-out collar. The faded hem. The smell that hadn’t quite faded even though it’d been days. It was the one you used to wear when you needed comfort but didn’t want to say it out loud. She remembered it vividly. And holding it now, Alexia sank straight to the floor, laundry forgotten. Not crying. Not breaking.

Just breathing through it.

Holding the shirt like maybe it could tell her what to do next.

But the shift didn’t happen in her hands. It happened later, in the dark, when she couldn’t sleep again.

Alexia sat on the floor that night, back against the wall, wrapped in the blanket that still smelled like you. Tofu padded over around 3AM. Paused. Judged. And then without any fanfare, curled up beside her. Slowly. Deliberately. Head on her thigh. Like he’d finally decided she wasn’t going to ruin everything.

She didn’t move. Just let her tears fall quiet. Gentle.

The dog didn’t even flinch.

In the morning, she picked up her phone and typed without thinking:

[go4goald2]: He slept on me last night. Not for long. But he stayed.

She didn’t add anything else. Just let it hang there. Let it exist without expectation.

You didn’t see it right away. You were trying not to obsess over every word. Every tiny signal. But when you did open the thread again, something in you softened.

You typed, slowly:

[lostinthecrowd]: I kept waiting for the moment you’d lie to me again. Or disappear. Or make this about fixing things on your timeline, not mine.

[lostinthecrowd]: But you didn’t. You just… stayed. Even when I didn’t answer. Even when I said nothing back.

You stared at the screen for too long after that. Thought about erasing it. Thought about softening it. But for once, you didn’t.

Because it was the truth.

And then, after a few more seconds of breathing through it:

[lostinthecrowd]: And that’s the part I keep thinking about.

The staying.

The quiet.

The fact that she didn’t try to talk you out of your anger. She just sat with it. Let it be heavy. Let it be real.

Alexia read the messages once.

Twice.

A fourth time. A fifth.

She didn’t type anything back right away.

Her thumbs hovered over the screen, then curled into her palms like if she gripped them tightly enough, maybe the words would settle on their own.

And finally, slowly, like she didn’t want to startle the moment:

[go4goald2]: Take all the space you need.

[go4goald2]: I’ll still be here. However long it takes.

Then nothing else.

No heart emoji. No typing bubble.

Just space.

Offered freely.

Not as pressure, but as proof.

And if you were still out there on the other side of it.

Still reading. Still thinking.

Still maybe, maybe starting to come home..

Then for Alexia, that was enough.

It had been three weeks since the last real message.

Three weeks since the slow stretch of hope gave way to silence again. Not sharp, not final, just quiet. Like space being offered, not punishment.

Alexia didn’t text anything after that night except the updates.

“Tofu still hates my omelets.”

“He barked at a moth for five minutes straight.”

“He sat by the door today. Not growling. Just waiting. Like he knows something I don’t.”

You never responded.

But she kept sending them anyway. Like little postcards addressed to a version of you that might still be listening.

This morning was like the others. Still, cool and gentle around the edges. She pulled on a hoodie, grabbed Tofu’s leash, and let herself walk slowly through streets that had stopped feeling familiar without you in them.

Tofu was better these days. Still picky. Still temperamental. But the growling had stopped. And sometimes when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d walk closer to her side. Not touching. Just near.

They got home just after eight. Alexia kicked off her shoes, dried off his paws, and set about making breakfast. Toast. Soft scrambled eggs. Coffee that didn’t taste like anything unless you put your whole back into the sugar.

She made Tofu’s food first, humming under her breath as she cut the chicken into tiny pieces. It was routine now, the kind that makes you feel like you’re doing something right just by doing it again.

He wandered toward the kitchen, sniffed the bowl, and miracle of miracles started to eat.

Alexia smiled to herself. A tiny win.

Then, 

A sound.

So small she almost didn’t hear it.

The lock turning.

She paused, spatula mid-air. Blinked. Waited.

Nothing.

Then the quiet click of the door closing.

She didn’t turn around right away.

But Tofu did.

He froze. Head snapping toward the hallway. Then without hesitation, he bolted, paws scraping across the tile as he launched into a full sprint, tail high and wild.

Alexia’s chest went still.

And then she heard it.

Your voice. Breathless. Gentle.

“Hi, baby.”

She turned slowly.

Saw it unfold from the kitchen like it was happening in another room, another life.

Tofu crashed into your knees like he was trying to fuse your atoms back together. You dropped your bag right there, sank to the floor without thinking, arms already around him. He whined. Whimpered. Climbed half into your lap. Your hands moved frantically over his ears, his chest, his back, like you were making sure he was real, or maybe making sure you were.

Alexia didn’t move.

She stood there, heart in her throat, spatula still in one hand like a prop she’d forgotten to put down.

Her heart tripped over a beat.

You looked up.

Met her eyes.

The breath she didn’t know she’d been holding caught hard in her chest.

Your mouth moved first. Not a smile just yet. But soft recognition and something like exhaustion.

Alexia blinked. Swallowed.

“Did you…” she started, then cleared her throat. “Did you eat yet?”

You shook your head, still on the floor with Tofu curled into your side like he hadn’t seen you in years.

Her smile came slowly. Uneven. A little shaky.

“Sit,” she said. “I’ll make you something.”

You stood without saying a word. Walked to the table. Sat down like you still didn’t know if was a good idea to be back here so soon.

Tofu followed, laid at your feet again like he’d never moved.

Alexia turned back to the stove. Cracked two new eggs. Burned the toast again but didn’t curse this time. Her hands were shaking. Her heart was louder now, steady and panicked.

Once she was done, she laid it in front of you and sat across from you, slowly, still trembling. Her knee bounced under the table.

“I didn’t know if you’d…” She trailed off. Bit her lip. “But I kept waiting.”

You looked at her, quiet, unreadable.

Then, softly:

“I know.”

The moment sat between you.

Not forgiveness, but the first breath of it.

Like a slow song at 3AM, playing quietly in the background while everything rearranges itself inside your chest.

And God, Alexia would’ve waited a hundred more mornings for this one.

That night, you made your way into the bedroom first. It was your first full day back, and you were exhausted. Emotionally and physically. Your ribs ached like something had been let go too fast.

Alexia came in later, slow and careful. She stood in the doorway with her pillow against her hip like a stranger in her own house.

You were already on the far side of the bed, blanket pulled to your chin, eyes half-lidded but open. Watching.

Alexia hesitated. Then stepped back.

“I’ll take the couch,” she said gently.

You didn’t argue. Just nodded. “Okay.”

She deserved the couch. She knew that. She made it up herself. Blanket, a slightly too-flat pillow, a soft exhale when she laid down like she was bracing for the ceiling to collapse.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Not for either of you.

You turned once in the night and saw her there, sprawled uncomfortably, one arm over her face like it might erase the guilt.

The next few days passed like ghosts. Echoes of what you used to be. You existed near each other, but never quite with. Enough to share the air, but not the weight.

Alexia still cooked.

You still ate.

Tofu wedged himself between the two of you like clockwork. Head on your knee. Tail tapping once against Alexia’s leg like an afterthought. He’d chosen to stay with her. That was your choice. But God, did he know how to keep the tension perfectly preserved. Every time Alexia shifted an inch closer, he countered. A living buffer.

Conversation didn’t come easily, not yet. It was mostly small things.

“Do you need more toothpaste? I think I used the last of yours.”

“No, it’s fine. I brought some.”

Silence.

“There’s clean laundry on the bed,” she offered. “I didn’t fold yours. Wasn’t sure if you still… like your socks inside out.”

You blinked. “I do.”

More silence.

But she kept discovering new versions of you, now quietly spoken: the way you curled your fingers when you were anxious. How you tapped your thumb against the mug handle while you thought. That you still hated mushrooms but now loved cherry marmalade, which made her smile against the rim of her own cup.

You poured her coffee on day three.

With whipped cream and a lot of cinnamon.

She almost cried into it.

By day five, she stopped trying to talk. Just listened. Let you move around the apartment like it belonged to both of you again, even if it didn’t feel that way yet.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a documentary one night. Tofu at your feet. Remote halfway off the cushion. Your head tilted against the armrest in that vulnerable way you used to hate being seen in.

Alexia stood at the edge of the room for a full minute.

Then walked over. Blanket in hand.

She draped it over you slowly. Her fingers brushed your shoulder as she tucked it under your chin.

You didn’t move.

But your hand curled around the edge of the blanket like maybe you felt it. Maybe that meant something.

The next morning, she found you in the kitchen.

Two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of home-made churros sat side by side.

She blinked. “You remembered.”

You looked over your shoulder, voice soft. “How could I forget?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Tried not to cry again.

You still didn’t touch much.

But that night, in the hallway, you passed too closely, and her shoulder brushed yours. You didn’t flinch.

She didn’t step away, but she let it linger.

The air between you had changed, it was no longer charged with hurt. Just full. Full of waiting. Full of maybe.

And Alexia?

She could live in maybe.

As long as you were still here to keep filling it.

It started with the laundry. Not dramatic. Not symbolic. Just a pile of shared life folded into fresh corners. Shirts, socks, a hoodie that might’ve been yours but ended up on her side once, back when there was a “her side” to anything. Alexia stood in the hallway, watching you fold a pair of your own leggings with practiced detachment. She hadn’t meant to watch, hadn’t meant to hover, but there she was. Arms crossed, thumb picking at her nail, heart doing that nervous skip it always did around you now.

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t look up.

But you didn’t leave either.

She stepped closer. Careful. Soft.

You didn’t flinch.

Not even when her hand brushed the towel you’d just folded, her knuckles grazing yours for half a second too long. Electricity passed between you like a memory. Like want. Like maybe the version of you that used to lean into that kind of touch was still there, buried under all the ache.

Neither of you said a word. But when you turned away, your shoulders weren’t tight. You let her stay in the room with you. That was new.

And it was enough for now.

The nights stayed quiet, but the silence changed color.

You were back in the bed since the first day, but not in the middle. Not curled into her like you used to be. But finally, your pillow smelled like your hair again, and your blanket had a shape to it.

Alexia still didn’t join you.

She slept on the couch without complaint. Every night. A blanket to her chin, the room always just a little too cold, your breathing just out of reach.

Sometimes, you left the door open.

And sometimes, she lingered in the hallway with a glass of water she didn’t need, staring through the crack at the curve of your leg beneath the covers. At Tofu, curled in the crook behind your knees like a sentry. At the way your lips parted in sleep.

She never crossed the threshold. Not once.

But she always whispered, “Goodnight.”

You never answered. But your breathing slowed a little when she said it.

Evenings meant parallel lives in the same space.

You watched documentaries with the volume low. She scrolled through her phone with headphones in, but her eyes never stayed focused. Not really. Not when she could watch your face instead. The way your eyebrows furrowed. The little exhale you gave when you smiled. The way your fingers curled into your hoodie like you didn’t trust yourself not to reach for something or someone.

One night, she sat closer.

Not beside you.

But not across the room anymore either.

You didn’t look over.

But you let your leg rest just a breath away from hers on the cushion.

When Tofu climbed up and draped himself across both your laps, you didn’t shoo him off. You let him be the bridge. The wall. The truce.

Alexia pet him slowly.

You didn’t stop her.

That was something.

Some nights, you fell asleep on the couch. Exhausted, TV humming quietly, the light from the kitchen still on. You never made it to the bedroom. You didn’t have to.

Alexia always found you. She always brought a blanket. She never woke you. Just tucked it around your legs and let her hand brush your shoulder for a second longer than necessary.

One night, she let her fingers linger near your cheek.

Didn’t touch.

Just hovered.

She whispered, “You looked peaceful.”

Then walked away like saying it out loud made it real.

On day seven, she stood at the foot of the bed, pillow in her arms like a white flag.

You looked up, already under the covers.

Not asleep. Just waiting.

She shifted.

“I’m not staying,” she said quickly, like a promise. “I just can’t sleep without hearing you breathe.”

You didn’t tell her to leave.

You didn’t say anything.

Just scooted over, barely.

She took it for what it was. A maybe. A mercy.

She laid down, stiff and small, the blanket pulled to her shoulders like it might keep the apology inside her from slipping out.

You stared at the ceiling. She did too.

Minutes passed.

Then, like it broke free without permission,

“I’m scared to ask if you hate me.”

Silence.

You turned your head, just slightly.

“I don’t,” you said.

Then quieter:

“But I’m scared to need you again.”

Alexia swallowed hard.

“I never stopped needing you.”

You didn’t move closer. You didn’t run away either.

Your voice cracked when you whispered, “I know.”

That night, sleep didn’t come easy.

But peace did.

In pieces.

And maybe, just maybe, you were letting her earn her way back in.

Not with promises. But with presence.

With patience.

With staying.

The rain came back on a Tuesday.

Soft, steady, the kind that made the city hum quieter. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your legs, a book you weren’t really reading open on your lap. Tofu lay at your feet, chin resting on your ankle, completely still except for the occasional twitch of his ear.

Alexia had been pacing the kitchen for a while now.

Not loud. Just… aimless. Restless. Pulling mugs down, putting them back. Opening the fridge like something new might’ve appeared since the last time she checked. Her hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, hair pulled back like she’d tried to distract herself with anything practical.

But it wasn’t working.

And eventually, she just stood there.

Back against the counter. Arms folded. Staring.

You didn’t look up, but you felt the weight of her needing to say something.

Then, quietly, her voice broke the quiet.

“I keep trying to earn this house back.”

You blinked. Closed the book. Looked over your shoulder.

Alexia’s eyes met yours.

“And I keep realizing… I don’t care about the house. I care about what it felt like when you were in it.”

You didn’t say anything. Not yet. Not when her voice was already trembling.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’ve said that before. But I don’t think I ever said it all the way. Not like this.”

She stepped forward. One pace. Then another. Until she was standing just a few feet away, hands shaking at her sides.

“I was selfish,” she said, voice cracking. “I didn’t know how to lose you, so I lied to keep you close. And I know that’s not love. Not the kind you deserve.”

You stared at her. Every part of you tense, ready to harden.

But she kept going.

“I let you grieve alone. I let you wonder if I still saw you. And then I showed up in another skin because I didn’t believe I could be someone worth staying for.”

Her voice broke there. Fully. Like something inside her gave out.

“I didn’t want to trap you. I just… I missed the sound of your laugh. I missed the way you made space for me. I missed being the one you turned to when things felt heavy. And I thought… maybe if I came in quietly, I wouldn’t scare you off.”

You swallowed hard. Still frozen.

Alexia stepped closer again.

“I was scared to be seen. Because you always saw me. Even when I hated myself. And I thought… Maybe if I could be someone new, I could earn you without all the baggage. But all I did was hurt you worse.”

Her hands reached out, then dropped. Like she didn’t trust them not to ruin everything further.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I’m sorry for not being brave enough to tell the truth. I’m sorry for making you fall for a version of me that should’ve just been me from the start.”

Her shoulders crumpled, and suddenly she was on her knees.

Like her body couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I’m not asking for everything back,” she said, voice barely holding.

“I’m not asking to be your wife again. Not yet. Not if you’re not ready. But please…”

She looked up at you.

And god, her eyes were wrecked and hopeful and utterly open.

“Please just tell me there’s still a version of us that’s possible.”

You didn’t move for a long time.

The silence stretched until it hurt.

Then you stood up.

Crossed the room slowly.

Tofu shifted at your feet but didn’t follow. Didn’t interfere.

You stood in front of her. Looked down.

She didn’t look away.

And then finally, you dropped to your knees, too.

Not in forgiveness.

Not in surrender.

But in meeting her.

You reached forward. Pressed your forehead to hers.

And whispered, “I wanted you to say that. I needed you to.”

She let out a sound that was almost a sob. And not the broken kind. The released kind. 

Your arms came around her first.

Hers followed. Tight. Desperate. Familiar.

You stayed there on the floor, wrapped in each other, while the rain traced patterns on the windows and the weight between you shifted into something lighter.

You finally held each other like you both remembered how.

After that first hug, the dam broke. Not into a flood, but into a steady trickle. Small, careful moments began to collect between you like puddles after rain. Nothing rushed. Nothing loud. Just choices.

Repeated. Intentional. Yours.

The morning after that floor moment, the apartment felt different. Not louder. Not warmer. Just... less hollow. Like something had been let back in overnight. Not everything. But enough.

You woke up first. Not because you slept well, your body still curled in on itself like it was waiting for a storm, but because your eyes had opened, and that was enough. The sheets still smelled like unfamiliar quiet. The air still carried the kind of tension that hadn’t decided if it would stay. But you got up anyway. You moved on instinct. Coffee. Eggs. The last of the smoked salmon. Pancakes, because she liked them with crispy edges and you’d finally remembered how to get it right.

You didn’t think too hard about the tray. Just filled it. Balanced it. Carried it to the living room where she was still half-curled on the couch, one arm thrown over her eyes, blanket bunched around her knees like she hadn’t moved all night. Tofu was snoring gently against the back of the cushions, his little gremlin body spread like he owned the place.

You stood there for a second, tray in hand, and considered just setting it down on the table. Saying nothing. Letting her come to it on her own.

But then she stirred. Blinked up at you, hair in her eyes, the sleeve of your hoodie caught between her teeth like she’d been trying to keep herself quiet in her sleep.

You held out the tray.

She didn’t say anything. Just sat up slowly, like the weight of kindness was heavier than anything else. Took the tray. Set it between you on the coffee table.

She stared at the plate for a beat too long.

“You made it like” she started, then stopped.

You didn’t make her finish. Just nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled, barely. A quiet twitch of the mouth that looked more like disbelief than joy. “Thank you.”

You sat beside her, carefully. Close but not too close. Then paused. Looked at the table. At the space in front of her. Then shifted the tray an inch to the left and pulled her chair closer. A silent nudge.

She blinked. Eyed the new space. Then slid into it without comment.

You sat like that for a while. Eating. Sipping. Phones untouched. Her shoulder brushed yours when she leaned forward for the coffee, and she didn’t pull away. Not when she sat back. Not when your arms accidentally knocked against each other. Not when the silence turned easy.

Tofu snorted awake and rolled dramatically off the couch, landing on all fours like a gymnast who stuck the landing. Then he trotted over, sniffed the edge of the salmon, and sneezed directly onto Alexia´s plate.

She groaned. “Seriously?”

You laughed. Actually laughed. The sound was small and wrecked but real. And she didn’t even mind that her breakfast was now dog-adjacent. Not when you were laughing again. Not when your knee bumped against hers and stayed there.

She glanced sideways at you. Something soft in her eyes. Something quiet.

“Sorry about your breakfast,” you murmured.

You looked at her.

“I can share,” you said.

And maybe that was the moment that landed the hardest.

Not the food. Not the laugh. Not even the shoulder-to-shoulder warmth that neither of you backed away from.

Just the offer.

The I still want you near me, even if it’s messy.

Even if it’s dog-sneezed.

Even if it’s new.

And she leaned in. Not all the way. Not dramatically.

Just enough to let her temple brush your hair for half a second too long.

Just enough to say: thank you for letting me be close again.

The day was kind. That was the only way to describe it.

It was an afternoon that didn’t ask for anything. The kind that just let you be. The kind of warmth that came through the window in honeyed angles, catching on dust motes and the curve of your cheek as you sank onto the living room floor.

You’d been out that morning. A walk through quiet streets, Tofu leading the way with his usual chaos. He barked at a passing leaf. Peed on the same pole three times. Pulled so hard at one point you almost dropped your coffee. Alexia had laughed until she choked, her hand brushing yours every time she pointed out something stupid he was doing. It had been light. Easy. Easier than it should’ve been. But you didn’t question it.

Now, hours later, he was flopped belly-up by the balcony, snoring in a sunbeam. The TV played something soft, one of those comfort movies you’d seen a dozen times and didn’t really need to follow. The kind of film you could drift in and out of, just for the vibes. You sat with your back against the couch, knees drawn to your chest, hair still a little tangled from the wind.

Alexia was behind you, stretched out on the couch, a book open in her lap. Not reading it, not really. She was watching the screen with the kind of half-interest that said she just wanted to be where you were. Her socked foot was tucked gently behind your shoulder, not pressing, just touching. Just… there.

And maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the golden light. Maybe it was that you hadn’t asked her for anything in so long.

But your voice came out low and soft.

“Will you braid my hair?”

She didn’t answer right away.

You didn’t look back. You didn’t need to.

You just waited.

You weren’t asking for something big. Not a promise. Just her hands.

Just the memory of being cared for.

There was a beat of silence, then the book shut with a gentle thump.

Her legs shifted behind you. You heard the rustle of the couch cushions, the stretch of fabric as she sat up straighter. Then, quieter than anything:

“Yeah. Of course.”

You exhaled slowly as you moved, settling between her legs, back resting lightly against her knees. She pulled your hair over your shoulder gently, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as she smoothed it out. Her touch was reverent. Like your hair was made of something fragile. Like it might break if she didn’t get it right.

She started slowly. No rush. No practiced rhythm. Just her fingertips running through the strands, separating and gathering them like she was remembering how. Like she was trying to relearn a map she used to know by heart.

You closed your eyes.

Her breath caught the first time you leaned back into her legs. Just a little. Just enough to settle.

She didn’t say anything. But her hands stilled for half a second before moving again, slower now. Gentler.

It wasn’t about the braid.

It was about the closeness. The permission.

Her fingers working through the knots. Her knees bracketing your shoulders. Her thumb brushing your temple every now and then, absent, affectionate, like she couldn’t help it.

You breathed deeper. The kind of breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

And maybe she felt that.

Because her voice came out rougher than she meant it to. Barely above a whisper.

“You used to let me do this all the time.”

You didn’t open your eyes. Just nodded slightly.

“Still like it,” you murmured.

She swallowed hard. You heard it.

When she finished, she tied the braid off with the elastic from her wrist. Then her hands didn’t move. Just hovered. One still cradling the end of your hair. The other resting lightly on your shoulder like she wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Neither of you said anything.

You didn’t have to.

The sunlight kept moving. The movie kept playing. Tofu let out a dramatic sigh in his sleep.

And you stayed right there, back to her chest, her hands in your hair, the space between you smaller than it had been in weeks.

You let it be sweet.

She let it be sacred.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself be shaken by the simplicity of being allowed to hold you again.

The couch had never felt this full.

Not just of bodies, but of choices. Of presence. Of something warm trying its best to be safe again.

You didn’t mean to fall into her, not exactly. It just… happened. Tofu made a pleased little groan as he rearranged himself across both your laps, smug and sprawling like a dog with a personal stake in your reconciliation. You shifted to get more comfortable, and your shoulder bumped hers again. This time, you didn’t correct it.

Neither did she.

The episode played on, voices droning low in the background. Something about a mountain trail in Norway, or maybe a food tour in Prague, you weren’t really paying attention. Not when the silence between you and Alexia was turning into something that didn’t ache anymore.

It was soft.

Steady.

Bearable.

Your fingers found the edge of the blanket draped over the back of the couch and tugged it down. You didn’t ask, didn’t offer, just pulled it over both of your legs in one smooth, quiet motion. Your thigh pressed against hers more firmly this time. You let it stay.

Alexia didn’t say anything, but her breath caught. Barely. Just long enough for you to feel it in your own lungs.

You sat like that for a few minutes. Shoulders touching. Tofu slowly sliding further into your lap like he wanted to become a sentient heat pack.

Then, maybe because the moment asked for it, or maybe because you were too tired to overthink anymore, you leaned your head against her shoulder.

Just… let it rest there.

Her hoodie was soft. Her body warm. She stiffened, just for a second. You felt it.

But then,

Her arm moved.

Slowly. Carefully.

And wrapped around your back.

Her palm settled between your shoulder blades like it belonged there. Not gripping. Not asking.

Just holding.

You let out a breath you hadn’t meant to keep.

She felt it. Exhaled with you.

No words. No shift in position. Just her hand, flat and steady against your spine, and the soft brush of her cheek against the top of your head when she let herself tilt just enough to meet you there.

You didn’t say thank you.

You didn’t need to.

Because letting your head fall onto her shoulder was already an answer.

And her arm around you was the reply.

Tofu shifted, sighed, then let his full weight drop across your lap like a sandbag of approval.

You laughed, quietly. Felt Alexia’s chest rise with it.

She murmured, “He thinks he orchestrated this.”

You whispered, “He kind of did.”

And that was it.

No confessions. No tension. No declarations.

Just you. Her. Your dog. A blanket. And the space between you folding itself into something that finally felt like home again.

It didn’t happen with a grand gesture. No whispered "please stay." No late-night sob.

It happened with teeth brushed and lights low, the smell of clean sheets in the air, and the quiet sound of rain nudging at the window like it had a right to be part of this, too.

You stood in the doorway of the bedroom, pajama shirt tugged low over your hips, one hand holding the edge of the door like it might stop time. Alexia hovered behind you, socked feet silent on the floor, thumbs hooked in the cuffs of her hoodie sleeves. She wasn’t looking at you. She was looking past you to the bed. The one she hadn’t touched in weeks. The one that still remembered the shape of your body and not hers. You turned, slowly. Tilted your head toward the room. Nothing dramatic. Just a soft nudge.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. Hope, immediate and terrified, flashed across her face.

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice already splintering.

You nodded. “Just… sleep. That’s all.”

She didn’t answer. Just stepped past you carefully, like one wrong move might make the moment vanish. You climbed into bed first, Tofu thudding to the floor at your side like the world’s most dramatic bodyguard. You tucked yourself under the covers, leaned back into the pillow, and let your breath settle.

Alexia followed slower. Slid into the other side, hoodie still on, drawstrings twisted between her fingers like a nervous habit she hadn’t outgrown.

She didn’t lie back right away.

Just sat there, legs curled, hands in her lap.

You looked over. Waited.

Then, softly, just loud enough to be heard over the rain, you opened the door wider

“You can lie here. If you want.”.

Her head turned.

You patted your chest, just once.

Alexia blinked.

And then she moved.

Careful. Tentative. Like she couldn’t quite believe she was allowed to be held by you again.

She tucked herself down slowly, cheek pressed to your sternum, breath catching the moment your arms came up around her. One over her back. One curled at the nape of her neck. Your fingers slid into her hair, slow and steady.

She didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

Because the way she melted into you, limbs folding in, body pressing close like it was trying to memorize the feel of this again, that said everything.

Her hand found the hem of your shirt. Slipped under just enough to rest against the warm skin of your waist. Not possessive. Not searching.

Just anchoring.

You felt her chest rise. Shudder once. Settle.

Then her voice, small and buried:

“Thank you.”

You whispered back, lips brushing her hairline:

“I know.”

And that’s how you fell asleep.

Her head on your chest.

Your fingers tangled in her hair.

The rain still speaking against the window.

Tofu snoring at your feet like a guardian who had finally been relieved of duty.

And in the quiet dark, for the first time in a long, long while, neither of you dreamed of being somewhere else.

It had been a month.

A month of choosing again. Not loudly. Not all at once. Just in the quiet, ordinary ways that mattered.

The way she made coffee how you liked it. The way you bought her favorite cereal again. The way Tofu began sleeping curled between your knees like he belonged there and more than that, like you both did.

And that night, the night it all shifted for good, started the way most did lately: soft. Familiar.

You’d both had long days, but she offered to help with dinner anyway. You didn't stop her.

The kitchen smelled like garlic and thyme. Music floated in from the speaker she’d finally remembered to charge, and the wine, real wine this time, not guilt-poured or sorrow-sipped, was breathing in glasses beside you. 

You’d always told her it was better that way. “Let it open,” you’d said once. “Like people.”

Now, she did it without thinking.

She was slicing tomatoes beside you, standing too close on purpose, bumping your hip with hers every now and then like muscle memory. You rolled your eyes. She grinned. She was wearing that hoodie again, the one you secretly loved because it always slid off one shoulder.

You were about to ask her to stir the sauce when the song came on.

That song.

“If you like piña coladas…”

Your head snapped toward the speaker. She froze, spoon mid-air.

You both burst out laughing.

Full-bodied, ridiculous laughter. The kind that made your ribs ache. That stupid song, that absurd, perfect song you hadn’t heard since Chattr. Since before you knew.

“Of course it’s this,” you wheezed, wiping your eyes.

Alexia shook her head, smiling like it was too big for her face. “Of course it is.”

Then she stepped forward, took your hand, and said quietly, “Dance with me.”

You hesitated, fingers twitching in hers.

“It’s our song,” she teased gently. “Tragic and stupid. Just like us.”

You snorted. “Fine.”

You let her pull you close, one arm around your waist, your free hand on her shoulder. You swayed like idiots in your own kitchen, sauce forgotten, burner probably too hot, wine half-spilled and hearts completely open.

And then, somewhere in the middle of that moment, her head resting against your temple, she whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

You looked down at her.

“I’m sorry I made you find me behind a screen. I’m sorry I made you beg for effort. I should’ve said everything straight out, when it mattered most. I should’ve come home honest.”

Her voice was shaking now, low and cracked in the way that only happens when something’s been waiting too long to be let out.

You blinked hard. “You’re here now.”

Her eyes welled. “I don’t want to leave again. I can’t.”

“Then don’t.” Your hand tightened on her side. “Because if you do, I don’t think I can go through that again. I don’t think I'll come back from it next time.”

“I won’t,” she promised, breath trembling. “I’ll stay. I’ll take care of your heart. I’ll protect it like it’s mine.”

You stared at her then, your thumb brushing the side of her face, and the words slipped out before you even had time to breathe them.

“Please kiss me.” you asked softly.

Her answer was to pull you in.

The kiss was not gentle. It was not shy. It was everything else. Desperate, aching, too much and not enough. It was grief and healing and every unsaid thing collapsed between your mouths. Her hands buried in your hair. Yours fisted in the back of her hoodie. Both of you crying, not because you were breaking, but because you finally weren’t.

She kissed you like she didn’t expect to be allowed to stay.

You kissed her like you couldn’t survive if she left.

And when you finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, the taste of tears on both your lips, you whispered, “You’re home.”

Alexia closed her eyes. Let the weight of that settle in her chest.

And then, with a trembling exhale, said, “Only if you are.”

You nodded.

Together, you returned to the stove, hands brushing. Dinner burned a little. Tofu barked once, loudly, like he was annoyed no one had invited him to the emotional climax.

You fed him first.

Later that night, tangled together in bed with her head tucked beneath your chin and your fingers stroking her back in absentminded circles, she murmured, “I still remember the first night I met you. You were holding a wine glass and pretending you didn’t know the words to that song.”

You smiled into her hair.

“I wasn’t pretending,” you whispered. “I just wanted to hear you sing.”

She laughed softly.

And this time you fell asleep together not out of exhaustion, but peace. Because the worst was over and you had found each other again.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ripped tights in tight cupboards - sirius black

summary: sirius can't resist the sight of you in tights... what a shame he has to ruin them for you. wc: 1.7k+ cw: semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving)

Sirius had not stopped looking at you for the past twenty minutes. You’d been standing in the courtyard with the rest of your friend group, tugging your jumper tighter around your body to try warming you up, Hogwarts’s unrelenting autumn weather slapping you from every direction. You stood next to Lily, arm linked with hers as everyone leaned in close to you, listening to all the questions and answers you revealed would be on Professor McGonagall’s end of unit assessment.

James groaned in the middle of your rant, ruffling through his rucksack to pull out a notebook and pencil, jotting notes down as he repeated the question topics you had divulged.

However, of the entire group, the one person you wanted to do best on the test was not listening to a single word you were saying. Sirius’s gaze was relentless, staring at you with lustful eyes as the words you spoke flew over his head. His eyes dropped to your exposed legs, tongue shooting out to wet his lips as he smirked at the small rip in your warm tights.

“And, uh, there was an eight marker asking to outline and evaluate animal transfiguring spells. So I spoke about the one we did with mice, but then the underwater ones like full animal transfiguration or half, so the one to transfigure people into merpeople.”

Sirius chuckled, causing Remus to glance at him, but everyone else was too busy talking about how screwed they were for the exam. “Wait, we’re supposed to talk about the differences between half and full transfigurations?” Cried James, his eyes widening. Lily immediately jumped to explain the difference to her boyfriend, clarifying how to use it in an essay structure.

“Okay is that good?” But before you were able to get a response from your friends, Sirius broke into the middle of the group’s little huddle, crossing the circle to wrap an arm over your shoulders, the other hand reaching up to caress your arm closest to him.

“Good luck!” Sirius called out, dragging you alongside him. Marlene yelled a question to you, but Sirius pressed a kiss to your forehead, and her words were instantly melting away into the background.

The second you entered the castle, much warmer than the freezing outdoors, Sirius’s pace was increasing. His arm fell from around your shoulders, sliding down to intertwine your fingers with his as he rushed down the halls, using his steady grip to drag you alongside him easier.

Gasping, you wrapped your free hand around your boyfriend’s bicep as he made a triumphant noise, ramming his shoulder into the door of a broom cupboard. He yanked you into the small storage room with him and you gasped loudly, squealing as Sirius slammed his lips against yours, his hands immediately wandering under your skirt.

“Sirius!” You gasped against his lips as he momentarily pulled away, his fingers fighting against your tights. “Fuck, you look so hot.” Sirius groaned, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “Love these tights on you. Too bad I’m gonna have to-” You cried out, tightening your grip on Sirius’s shoulders as his unforgiving fingers dug into the crotch area of your tights, his nails digging into the stretchy fabric.

The fabric tore with a loud ripping sound, echoing in the enclosed space.

“Sirius!”

“I’ll buy you new ones, I swear!” He murmured in between kisses, sucking softly on your skin as his fingers slid into the new hole in your tights. His fingers curled into the bottom of your underwear, pushing the fabric to the side as his fingers explored your cunt.

You were immediately gasping quietly at Sirius’s touch, however messy or careless it may be. “There we go.” He spoke, more so to himself as his fingers connected with your clit. You bit your lip as a moan immediately surfaced, your boyfriend’s expert fingers immediately working miracles on you.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked teasingly, eyes widening as Sirius dropped to his knees in front of you. Your boyfriend looked up at you through his lashes, a wide grin on his face.

“Just can’t resist you.” You smiled at his words, snaking your fingers through his hair.

Sirius’s grin disappeared under your skirt, and you let him guide one of your legs up onto his shoulder, lips leaving a trail of kisses from your knee to your inner thigh.

Another rip sounded through the cupboard and you shrieked, scolding your boyfriend again. Sirius fit his fingers into the now much larger rip in your tights, holding your panties to the side so he could press his mouth to your cunt. Parting your lips with his fingers, Sirius wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking softly. Laughing softly at the immediate reaction you had, Sirius brought his fingers down to your entrance, pushing softly into you.

Leaning your head back against the wall, lips parted in a moan, you suddenly whimpered as Sirius’s lips left your body. Reaching in his pocket for his wand, Sirius muttered “Colloportus, muffliato” Before returning his attention to you.

Wand clattering to the floor, Sirius brought his now free hand up to your thigh, caressing your skin softly. “Relax for me, baby, yeah? Take a deep breath.” Following his instructions, you inhaled deeply before released air through your mouth. Sirius praised you, sliding his fingers deeper inside you.

Lips returning to your cunt, he flattened his tongue against your clit, adding pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sirius began thrusting his fingers into you quickly, sucking on your clit harshly and you thrusted your hips into Sirius’s face, pulling a moan out of him.

Whining, Sirius’s free hand clutched your ass, driving your body further onto his face. You tugged at Sirius’s hair, moving your hips with the movement of his face as he curled his fingers deeper into you.

Pulling your skirt up to look at Sirius, you gasped loudly, staring at the filthy sight underneath you. Sirius glanced up, and your jaw went slack, whimpering quietly. The rip in your tights dragged on all the way down your thigh, and your juices shined on your inner thighs, coating Sirius’s face. His fingers looked uncomfortably squished into your tights, but with the expertise he moved them inside you, you knew he couldn’t be too uncomfortable.

Keening loudly, you bit your bottom lip, banging your head on the wall behind you as you threw your head back in pleasure. “Oh my god!” You cried, feeling your thighs begin to shake as Sirius’s tongue flicked your clit.

Sirius hummed against you, mumbling “You close?” But he already knew the answer. As though he’s been playing with you this entire time, he curled his fingers just right, which immediately had you moaning out his name as you reached your orgasm, grinding your hips down on his face as your entire body shook in an onslaught of white-hot pleasure. Sirius moaned into your cunt as your juices flooded his face, licking up into you to clean you up and ease you out of your orgasm.

Reaching down to wrap your fingers around Sirius’s wrist, you halted his attack on your cunt, panting heavily as you recovered. Sirius slowly slid his fingers out of you, standing up and easing your leg to the ground.

Sirius cupped your face with his free hand, pulling you into a soft kiss before he was pulling away to lick all your juices off his hand. You cringed at the sight of his tongue sticking out between his fingers, bringing both your hands up away to pull his hand away from his face.

Sirius grinned, mumbling “What, you want a taste?” You shook your head frantically as Sirius stuck his hand closer to you, but before you knew it he was pushing you up against the wall again and forcing his tongue into your mouth with a passionate kiss.

You melted against Sirius, coiling your fingers into his curly hair again as you kissed him, the juices on his face smudging onto yours. When Sirius pulled away, still smiling, he looked proud of the mess he made of you.

“Everyone’s going to know what happened if you walk out with your hair like that.” You stated, leaning back against the wall, pulling out your wand and muttering a quiet spell. You held your wand towards Sirius, which now had a single tissue coming out of its tip, and he took it, wiping his hands and face off. You mimicked his movements, drying yourself off.

“Yeah, well if you walk out with these tights, everyone’s going to know what happened.” You glanced down, patting your skirt down, and gasped loudly at the realisation that the matching rips on your inner thighs went all the way down to your knees, way below the hemline of your skirt. “Sirius!”

“I told you I would get you knew ones!”

“But it’s cold today!”

“We’ll stop by your dorm to change them before your next class!”

“And you promise you won’t touch them!?”

Sirius was silent, clasping his arms in front of him. You huffed, glaring at him as you slid your flats off, reaching under your skirt to begin taking the tights off.

Sirius’s eyes followed the movement and he bit his lip, swallowing thickly. “Baby…” Your head snapped up towards Sirius, shaking your head disappointedly as you snatched the tights off the ends of your feet. Your boyfriend busied himself by patting his hair down, though he didn't try too hard to make himself look presentable, wanting to flaunt your actions to the student body of Hogwarts. Besides, everyone knew you were the only person allowed to touch his hair.

Sliding your feet back into your shoes, you tossed the ruined tights in the trash can in the corner of the tight cupboard. Sirius took a couple of steps towards you, and he ducked his head down to press some teasing kisses to your jaw and neck.

“Should we go up to my dorm?” You raised your eyebrows at Sirius’s question, trailing your eyes down his body to land on his cock, straining in his trousers. With a giggle, you opened the door to the broom cupboard, walking into the hallway. Sirius ran up to you, catching up to your footsteps with a worried look on his face.

“We are going, right!?” You turned your head to look at Sirius, offering a hand for him to hold.

“Yeah, if you can make it all the way up there.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-f017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @why-am-i-like-this18, @theoraekenslover, @animalcrossingshameless

[lambilegs]

oh to be sevika's annoying ass gf who drags her to miniso and shit <3

like, you already KNOW she'd be dreading it the whole time, rolling her eyes and grunting about how so much of the stuff in there is a waste of money. she'd just trail behind you like some kind of lost puppy, absentmindedly rubbing her fingers on different objects to "assess" the quality and judge them thoroughly. she'd be loud as fuck too, telling you when she thinks a certain mug's artwork will easily scratch off, or when a pair of slippers aren't sustainable material. you'd constantly be slapping her arm, begging for her to stay quiet, but she'd continue quietly criticizing this and that without pause.

but, then, she'd see you eagerly grabbing at a plushie, or beaming at the sight of a blind box, and even though she'd roll her eyes at it and ask why you'd even spend money on something that'll just sit on the bed, or gather dust on your shelf, she can't help but smile at the sight. she tempers it down, of course -- there's no need to reveal just how much she enjoys your childlike adoration of all the shit there. surely, you'd never let her hear the end of it. but, still, it's there, the corners of her lips tugging up just barely, her stomach getting a weird, sort of tight feeling from watching you squish the plushie's face. it's becoming a familiar sensation around you, she's noticed -- whether it's nerves or plain fondness, she's not fully sure. she's not the best with this kind of stuff.

which is why actions are her go-to. so, when you set something back on the shelf, she immediately takes note of it, her gaze lingering on it before she continues silently following you around. when you guys leave the store, part of her genuinely impressed that you managed to leave with only one item, she tells you to go ahead while she goes to the bathroom. with you pressing a kiss to her cheek that leaves her feeling embarrassed in a way she really does not enjoy, she slinks back to the store. and proceeds to purchase every single item you had taken an evident liking to.

when she returns to you with a large bag practically overflowing with items that on any other day, would've sent her cringing silently to herself, she desperately tries to play it cool, for she hates being the spotlight in any situation, even if it's for something nice. even when your mouth drops open and you run up to her, dotting millions of kisses on her face. she only bats you away, shoving the bag in your hand and mumbling about how it's not a big deal. internally, of course, she's deeply satisfied with your reaction, but you'd never know. for on the outside, she simply folds her thick arms over her chest and says something about how if she knew if she didn't "take action, you'd be pouting and bugging me for the rest of the day."

but, you can barely hear her, digging through the bag with eager hands, eyes crinkled with sheer joy. and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she's practically putty when it comes to your smile. she'll buckle for it everytime, and while she'd usually try to resist having such a weak spot in any other situation, it's becoming impossible with you.

it scares her some, sure, but if it means she gets to be the person to get you beaming like that, she'll lean into it. just sometimes. (always.)

[bangchanwifey]

the dress - sim jaeyun !

jake being so obsessed w his pretty girl in her pretty little dress that he has to take her home and show her just how much he loves her.

contains: 심재윤 x female!reader

warnings: smut w no plot, fem implied reader, language, pet names, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!)

jake absolutely loved it when you wore his favorite dress.

whenever he saw you in it, it’s like he couldn’t control himself. he was immediately thinking of any possible way to get you all alone.

he absolutely knew you were doing it for his attention too. the occasional glares across the room. the way the bottom of the dress kept riding up slightly to reveal your thighs.

he couldn’t keep it together anymore. so it was no surprise when you two were back at your place practically attacking each others faces as you walked in the door.

“you’re such a tease.” jake muttered out before laying you down on the bed. he wasn’t wasting his time anymore and you weren’t complaining.

“i thought you loved this dress.” you replied with a slight frown, teasing him even more. “oh i do baby, too much.” he said before connecting your lips once again.

you let out a soft moan as you felt him move down to your neck spreading kisses until he left marks. it was only a matter of seconds before the two of you were completely naked on the bed.

jake was lining himself up with your entrance before you could even get a word out. you could feel his cock twitching as he slowly inched himself further into you.

you let out a moan when you felt him bottom out inside you, causing him to smirk. “that’s my girl.” he growled.

“fuck.. feels so good jakey.” you whimpered as you held onto his shoulders. jake moaned as he looked at the sight in front of him, you absolutely being wrecked by his cock.

“doing so good for me.” he muttered out as he moved faster, never wanting the moment to end. “my beautiful girl taking my cock so well.” he whispered as he placed a few more kisses along your collarbone.

your moans kept getting louder and louder as jake pounded himself into you, not being gentle whatsoever. you could feel your climax approaching and he knew you were close too.

“cum all over my cock princess. let it out.” jake whispered in your ear as he held you close. you could feel how deep he was as he moved faster and harder wanting to pleasure you.

he smirked down at you when he felt your release paint his cock, before giving you a warm smile. “you’re so perfect.” he said, the smile never wiping off of his face.

you smiled up at him taking in what had just happened. you were about to get up to clean yourself off but jake grabbed a hold of your wrist, keeping you beneath him.

“mhm, you’re not going anywhere. i’m not done with you yet angel.”

you were in for a long night.

⇾ MAIN MASTERLIST | ENHYPEN MASTERLIST

⇾ first fic for enhypen!!!! im hoping to write more soon and i hope you all enjoyed! thank you for reading <3

[ajaxsbeloved]

hi there!! can i request an albedo nsfw hcs where albedo once revealed to the reader that he has extremely high sex drive, so the reader is willing to be his fuck buddy and now he's fucking them almost anytime and anywhere? thank u and have a nice day!!

-: a genius' secret :-

feat. albedo

genre. smut with lots of plot unfortunately (and fluff)

summary. albedo finds out he’s addicted to sex, more specifically he’s addicted to you

warnings. afab reader, gn pronouns, usage of (y/n), somnophillia, reader is friends with sucrose, talk of love and feelings and shit, passionate sex, hand holding, no foreplay (don't do this shit irl), no protections (don't do this shit either), albedo cums in reader

authors note. this idea is actually so good thank you anon i could kiss you for this, real quick note that they DO end up lovers. wasn’t sure if you were ok with that or not because you didn’t specify so i took a little creative liberty :)

albedo has never really been one to care about things such as sexual intercourse or romantic chemical reactions, despite his curiosity for the world and thirst for knowledge he hasn’t really had a thirst for other people or their fluids.

however you were unlike all other humans, in albedo’s eyes you seemed to shine brighter than the stars and your laughter was clearer then everyone else’s. eventually this shifted into the curiosity of getting intimate with you.

albedo is no fool, he’s a grown man and not to mention one of the smartest men in teyvat. of course he knows about sex, he actually knows more about it then you expect. he knows much more than just the basic birds and bees, no no this alchemist knows all the right theoretical spots to bring pleasure to anyone. he just didn’t ever feel the need to try it out.

after you came into the picture this changed, albedo began to want to experiment with this suddenly interesting idea of sexual relationships and what that meant. so he decided to bring this to your attention.

you were shocked to hear that he wanted to have sex, even more so shocked that he did lots of proper research into making that if he at least didn’t find it satisfactory that you would. so naturally because he was very compelling (and very hot) you agreed.

the first time you two did it was in his lab, he had cleared out space and cleaned down the counter tops all for you. he wanted to make sure that this experience was in as controlled of an environment as it possibly could be, he made sure sucrose and timeous were out of the situation as well.

the first time you were nervous, not so nervous for the “having sex with albedo” part as you were sure he’d be fine and considering it was his first time you didn’t expect him to be great. no, you were worried about yourself. what if you weren’t good enough? what if he found that he just wasn’t turned on by you? what if in the worst case scenario you ruined the concept of sex for him?

well regardless of your worries none of them mattered as you two had the best sex of your life that day, albedo was right when he said he knew what he was doing and despite your concerns about being good enough albedo was absolutely enamored with you.

he thought that one time was amazing and before actually doing it he thought he’d only need that one time and one time alone, oh boy was he wrong. he enjoyed himself so much that all of the sudden he couldn’t keep it together when you were around!

it would appear that no matter what you do albedo would find himself unfocused and needy when in your presence, so he decided he should probably confront you about it.

when he told you it was surprising, though you didn’t really mind. albedo was a very attractive man and to say he was fantastic in bed would be an understatement, so you reassured him that nothing was wrong and that you would be happy to have sex with him anytime if he needed it.

biggest. mistake. ever. kinda.

you thought he would “have a high sex drive” as in maybe fuck 4-5 days of the week with short sessions or one round but you were wrong, poor you can’t catch a break and your muscles are now always sore :(

no, albedo is reserved and calm but dear god is that man a horn dog. for a month straight you kept track of how often you two had sex and it was almost every single day… FOR A WHOLE MONTH!

before you knew it you and albedo had become extremely accustomed to each other and had fucked in almost every corner of mondstadt, from his lab to the knights of favonious headquarters and everywhere in between.

at this point you knew each other like the back of your hands, he abuses the spongy soft spot in your walls that makes you see stars when he applies just a little pressure with his index finger and you abuse his sensitive porcelain neck that makes him go harder when you swirl your tongue in a star shape on it.

despite his usually calm and quiet self he’s quite loud in bed, constant heavy breathing and moans fill your ears and considering how heavenly his normal voice is his moans are like music from the gods.

he lasts a long time too, at first it was only one to two rounds but as it built up over time he was able to go for hours and hours. sometimes he’d wake you up to have sex as the sun rises and seeing the sunrise with albedo deep in your walls was like getting into heaven only much more sinful.

his favorite place to have sex is at your house, where there’s no one around and you can comfortably fuck wherever you wanted whether that be the bedroom or kitchen table.

albedo is all about cleaning up his messes though, any fluids you got anywhere would be clean that be your sheets or your countertops and sometimes he’d even use chemicals to erase your prints.

this fuckbuddy situation was so life changing that you’ve even considered dating albedo, not only is the man good in bed but he’s sweet and gentle. only in bed does he get more rough but even then it’s just the right amount.

who knows maybe one day albedo will be more than fuck buddy to you. (he already wants more with you.)

eventually you realize that you actually want more with albedo, of course you still want to have amazing mind blowing sex but you also want to hold him close and listen to him sing as he plays with your hair.

you of course start freaking out realizing this and decide the best way to go about the situation is to avoid albedo entirely! why tf would you do that.

you normally see each other every day whether that be because you drop off food to sucrose during lab hours or you run into each other at the knights headquarters, there’s plenty of reasons you see each other often.

so naturally the only thing you can do is choose to completely change your daily schedule to accommodate your ignorance of albedo, you send klee to drop off food for sucrose and you work from home as to avoid the knights headquarters.

this goes on for a solid 3 days before albedo worries, now he was already worried by day 2 but decided to wait in case you were thinking of coming out yourself and explaining the situation which you ended up not doing.

so albedo goes to your house after finally finishing his shift at the lab, he’s honestly quite tired and would love to go home and drink a cup of tea while reading but this is much more important to him.

he knocks gently at your door, for once in his life he finds himself growing anxious at the realization that you might be avoiding him. did he do something wrong? maybe you were sick of having sex with him? maybe you had found someone else… oh god please no anything but that.

albedo can feel his saliva thickening at the very thought that you had moved on from him despite the two of you not actually being together, lost in his thoughts he ends up staring at the floor when suddenly the door flies open.

you stand there before him utterly in shock and yet when albedo makes eye contact with you he can’t help but feel his “heart” beat even faster then before.

you look an utter and complete mess with your hair unbrushed and only wearing a shirt and shorts you threw on last minute to open the door, you don’t have any makeup on and your skin hits the cold winter air making you tense up.

but to albedo none of that matters, all that matters is that you’re right there in front of him and you look better than you ever have.

“a-albedo…. what are you doing here?”

“where have you been the past few days, i’ve been worried sick are you okay?”

albedo is speaking fast and with more emotion in his voice than you’ve possibly ever heard from him, you realize the effect you’ve had on him and start to feel guilty.

you begin to sweat and trip over yourself explaining, stuttering and mumbling you fidget with your hands and can’t seem to look albedo in the eyes

without warning he lightly places his hands on your wrists, you look up to find him with the same expression as always but you feel like there’s a tinge of relief in his eyes.

“may i come in?”

you stumble on your words once again as you sloppily invite him into your home and close the door behind you with a confused look on your face.

he grabs your arm and leads you to the couch, being careful not to pull too harshly. as he’s sitting the two of you down his hands don’t leave yours and you feel your face warm up at the thought.

“(y/n), do you have feelings for me?”

what the—how did he get it that fast? your jaw drops open and you struggle to find the words to answer.

"i—well... i mean— wha.. what are you trying to imply? i mean honestly, what kinda question is that..?" you stumble through the sentence nervously, trying to shift the blame onto him.

albedo listens carefully, waiting for the right moment to say something as you fumble with your words.

“i have feelings for you as well.”

you keep rambling and trying to excuse yourself and without even noticing you completely ignored what albedo had said, sighing albedo just looked at you and leaned in to kiss you.

mid rambling you freeze when you realize albedo's lips are on yours, and you inevitably melt into the kiss, having missed him more than you realized.

"'bedo.." you mumble against his lips, and you can feel him smile into the kiss.

"yes, love?" he says, pulling away ever so slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against yours as he waits for you to ask whatever was important enough to interrupt your moment.

"can we please have sex now?" you all but whine, looking at him with puppy dog eyes, to which he can only chuckle and comply with your wishes

albedo leads you to the bedroom and gently lays you down on the soft sheets, he climbs on top of you and moved your hair out of your face with a slight smile grazing his lips

he kisses you again, this time more lightly and you can feel the sincerity on hips lips. he’s holding himself above you so carefully and only pushing onto you a little bit to avoid crushing you

you giggle at the way his mouth tickles the nape of your neck, he slowly kisses along and looks up occasionally to see how you react with a glint of mischief in his beautiful cerulean eyes

before you know it albedo is tugging at your clothing and trying to pry them off at an almost slow pace, you help him and wiggle out of your garments as you feel up his arms and cup his face

it isn’t long before your lips meet his again only this time you take the lead and put more fire into the kiss, you let out a hum and albedo groans at the way you slip your tongue into his mouth with little hesitation

soon you find yourself practically clawing at each other, groping and squeezing and hurriedly pulling at albedos clothes

he finally get the memo that you want something more rough than what he had in mind and he pushes you back onto the bed as he begins to unbuckle his belt

you lay on the bed trying your best to look seductive, giving albedo bedroom eyes and pulling your lips between your teeth, your eyes sparkling with anticipation

and albedo notices this, he sees what you’re doing and it’s driving him absolutely wild. you’re just so sexy and he can’t help but be in awe at how you’re finally all his for certain

albedos belt slips off and so does his boxers as he leans down to your figure and begins lapping his tongue all over your chest, making eye contact the whole time as he circles his tongue around your sensitive buds

you whine at the feeling, pawing at him to just put himself in you. he laughs at your pathetic attempt to get him to do something but regardless he lines himself up with your walls and pushes in, you moan at the way he stretches you out and your back arches off the bed

albedo is trying to hold himself back a bit, kneading at the sheets to calm himself and find some sort of semblance of self control

when he bottoms out he lets out a deep sigh, almost as if he’s been waiting for this moment for 3 whole days. he waits patiently for you to give him the ok to move, unsure of how long i5 would take to adjust to him since it had been longer than usual without him

once you nod at him he pulls back slowly to make sure you can feel every inch of his perfectly thick and veiny cock, he hisses through his teeth before slamming back into you

you throw your head back and whimper at how deep he is, he fits your velvety walls so perfectly and you can swear he’s kissing your cervix

leaning down to your ear he picks up speed and wrap his arms around your waist, lifting your back up slightly off the mattress

“hnnngg you feel so good, fuck you’re so warm”

you shiver at the breath next to your ear, you can’t help but roll your eyes back at how amazing this position is

albedo on top of you with his arms wrapped around you and your wall wrapped around him, you couldn’t ask for anything better

he keeps pushing into you at a steady pace, his cock hitting that spongy spot that’s making you see stars. it’s like he keeps getting deeper with every thrust and you can’t do anything but moan at the feeling of being filled to the brim with a man more perfect than the sunset over dragonspine

“archons—albedo-ah!”

he lets a groan next to your ear, opting to start sucking on your neck to avoid being too loud. you mewl at the way he suckles perfectly on your sweet spot and oh how his tongue laps at your skin makes you so so weak

he slowly lays you back down on the bed, removing his arms from around your waist which causes you to let out a sound of dissatisfaction before gasping when he slips his hands into yours and pins them on the sides of your head

“you’re mine—mine, all mine”

his pace is practically animalistic and he’s almost growling at you, you’ve never seen him this primal and it makes you tighten around his thick cock

you start to feel your stomach tighten as the familiar buildup of your high arrives, you try your best to warn albedo with anything, words or sounds, yet you struggle to even get anything out because you’re in suck a daze of how amazing this feels

but not to worry, albedo knows. he knows by the way you tremble underneath him and how your gummy walls grip onto him like a vice, he lifts his head from your neck and crashes his lips into yours

it’s sudden and rough but albedo doesn’t care, all that matters to him right now is shoving his tongue in your mouth and being surrounded by your warmth

“c-cumming! bedo!!”

you can’t help it when your orgasm hits you so hard you feel like a freight train just slammed into you, the feeling takes over your entire body and you can’t seem to find words to come out of your mouth

arching your back from the bed and squeezing albedo’s hands you manage to not pass out while having one of the best orgasms of your life

and albedo is right there with you, he moans into your mouth he pushes his hips as far as possible into yours and rocks them back and forth gently when he finally starts to come down from his own high

after catching your breaths and staring at each other you both smile and you open your arms to him, he gladly embraces you and without words the two of you fall asleep together

unfortunately for your neighbor mona she happened to hear…. well. everything.

tags: @aventurinesweetheart

[mustbotherstebe]

No talking, please.

Rating: 18+, no minors!

Summary: Jack finally makes it home to you after the Pitt Fest chaos and he’s barely hanging on, but there’s one thing he does to bring him center and it just so happens to involve you, on the couch, with no clothes.

Warnings: Cunnilingus, cuss words, Jack being a whizz at eating 🐱 (are we surprised?), squirting, fingering, etc.

*~*

Jack eats you out like it’s the end of the world.

Especially after a long shift. All it took was hearing THE tone of voice over the phone to know. The door came open, making you jump slightly. The weight he carried in with him was immense; you couldn’t even say “Hello”. He greeted you with a kiss to the forehead and mumbled about taking a shower and you nodded. Today was bad, you thought as you waited quietly in the living room; hell everyone knew it was the worst day ever to be at the hospital.

But he didn’t want to talk about that; Jack didn’t want to talk at all. He finally emerged from the bedroom, a t-shirt and sweat pants replacing the scrubs and before you could ask any questions, he was moving you to the couch.

“Strip.” Jack commanded softly, “please.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue and did as you were told, his eyes laser focused on every inch of skin that was revealed. Once you were naked, he stood right in front of you, his fingers pushing hair behind your ears.

“Sit down.” The timber of his voice was low and it made you shiver. “Please.” Jack added politely again.

You kept your eyes on him until the soft couch material met your ass. Slowly he moved to his knees, pushing your thighs up with both hands.

“Hold those up for me, baby,” he says gently.

Quickly obliging, his hands spread you open even more, his tongue broadly licking from your ass to your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your mouth, your nails digging into the flesh of your under thighs deeper. Jack’s signature smirk flashes across his lips but only for a moment.

Before you admonish him for teasing you, he’s attached those lips right onto your clit and every thought flies out of your mind.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

This eggs him on more, sucking harder and moving his tongue around the little bud. You moan out loud, trying so hard not to jolt too far away from his mouth. Almost as if he read your mind, Jack moves your hands, replacing them with his wider ones and pushes your thighs back until you are practically in half. No thoughts or feelings pass through your mushy brain other than the miracle that is his mouth.

“Jack, oh god…”

Jack responded by pushing two fingers inside you, finding that spot instantly. Your moans turn into whimpers when he starts to move his fingers back and forth, curling them just right. There’s a quiet moment while you savor what is happening when you realize that he’s actually groaning around your clit. God, you were going to remember that for the rest of your life; if he didn’t kill you here and now, anyway.

He was starting to get into a rhythm; his tongue swirling around your clit and his fingers going faster, the wet noises and your moans growing louder. The way the pads of his calloused fingers were hitting your g-spot was incredible and before you could stop it, you were coming hard, your juices hitting the hardwood floor with a loud SPLAT.

“Oh my god, baby…I’m…fuck…!” You exclaim with loud whimpers and he’s not done, not even a little bit. In fact, he’s speeding up and making more squirt come out all over him and in his mouth. The pressure is intense but it feels so fucking amazing you can’t bring yourself to make Jack stop. Finally, he lets off your clit with a juicy smack and looks up at you, wetness making his mouth glisten.

“That has to be a record,” he says with a low, gravely voice. You want to answer, but words are difficult at the moment. He finally gives you a full, but tired smile and moves forward between your shaking legs, kissing you tenderly. “I can’t tell you how much I love being able to make you feel good like that.”

“You always do.” you breathe, mush mouth and all.

“Always, huh?” Jack kisses you again, going deeper, the sweet and salty taste of yourself playing on your tongue.

“Mmhmm,” you pull away slightly, “and now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“Baby, don’t-“

You kiss him to stop whatever sentence was about to come out. “Yes I do. For as long as you want.”

“That’s a bold offer. Today sucked.” He smirked but you could see the sadness looming behind his dark eyes.

“I know what I’m offering. Why don’t you stand up and let me take care of you.

Jack considered you for a second.

“Please,” you say with a sly smile and he rolls his eyes but he stands up anyway. Your legs come down and you move to the edge of the couch, looking up at him while tracing your fingers over his chest and stomach.

“You deserve this. And more.”

For a split second, it looks like tears are forming in his eyes but he swallows and breathes out shakily. “What would I do without you?”

*~*

Writers note: Ahahahahahahawhat have I done by starting this?? Now I have to write more!! Anyway, thanks for reading my little blurb that I’ve been thinking about for weeks now and needed to share before I exploded. ❤️

[lllivia]

Dating Shauna Shipman

warnings: precrash!Shauna, fluff, nsfw (under cut), dom!switch!Shauna

❃ meeting her through little miss popular Jackie, but not immediately hitting it off - Shauna's guarded attitude keeping you at a distance.

❃ but the more you hang out with Jackie (who Shauna's always with) the more interested she becomes to know you. And after a while she even makes you your own entry in her journal..

❃ she becomes increasingly fascinated by who you are, but she still keeps her distance - only saying a couple of words to you when Jackie's out of the room.

❃ that changes however when the two of you get assigned an English project together, which actually requires her to talk to you (she's lowkey a little excited).

❃ after a few awkward conversations you finally begin to hit it off, and the project goes smoothly as a proper friendship begins to form.

❃ she becomes a tiny bit obsessed with you, to the point where Jackie has to keep calling out her obvious staring with a raised eyebrow and a confused expression. Wouldn't Shauna tell her if there was something going on?

❃ well, then comes a sleepover between you, Shauna and Jackie where you do all of the normal stuff - like yk, watch a romcom, eat snacks, gossip, makeout when Jackie's in the bathroom..

❃ yeah.. The staring and the small friendly touches weren't enough to satisfy Shauna's need for you anymore apparently, and how close you were sitting next to eachother on Jackie's bed didn't help. So while watching the movie Shauna's hand had crept closer and closer to yours until it was basically laying on top of it, all while you were sleepily leaning your head on her shoulder.

❃ then when Jackie finally left the room Shauna couldn't hold back anymore. "y/n?"

❃ you'd practically been waiting for Shauna to make a move that whole night, so when she whispered out your name to make sure you weren't sleeping you immediately turned over to meet her eyes.

❃ you both knew what was about to happen the second you made eye contact - so the brunette didn't waste any more time before kissing you pretty bruisingly. The two of you not stopping before Jackie's yelp was heard from the doorway (whoops).

❃ you're pretty secretive about your relationship - with her parents being pretty conservative, and just ppl in general, but also because you just like keeping to yourselves most of the time (rather staying home together than going out).

❃ she likes reading to you, having you cozily lay in her lap while she softly caresses your skin and reads aloud.

❃ treats you better than she does anyone else (even Jackie. Ik shocking) and never snaps at you - if she can help it.

❃ draws you in her journal!! She notices every little detail about you, your moles, freckles, smile lines - just everything. Now that you're together she's not ashamed to show her dependence towards you. Might not be totally healthy, but oh well..

❃ sleeps in your once favorite t-shirt - stuffing it under her pillow every time you sleep over so you won't take it back (you wouldn't - but she doesn't know that).

❃ gushes about you to Jackie, she knows basically everything about your relationship (maybe a little too much). It gets to a point where she straight up has to ask Shauna to shut the fuck up.

❃ loves when you do her makeup, having you sit in her lap while she watches your adorable face scrunch with concentration is honestly a dream.

— nsfw —

❃ writes out all of her fantasies in that damn journal. If you ever find out what it says in there, safe to say she would never hear the end of it.

❃ that girl is freaked tf out. Your first time together happens at a party after Jackie had gave you a tiny revealing top. Shauna's almost sure that the girl is praying on her downfall - bcs how is she supposed to focus on anything other than your hot sweaty body dancing with her.

❃ She practically drags you into an empty bedroom and locks the door before pushing you onto the bed. "woah Shauna what's gotten into you" you smirk. "Shut up."

❃ behind her soft sweet exterior there was now something rougher that got pushed to the front. After what felt like hours of making out on a strangers bed the wetness between your legs was getting increasingly uncomfortable. "Please.. Fuck me already"

❃ the smirk that sentence brings to her lips is downright fucking sinister. She fucks you so good you're seeing stars through the whole thing - and the scratches on her back prove how good it was (Nat sees the marks when Shauna's changing after practice a couple of days later and wow, that brought some really awkward questions from everyone).

❃ like I said, this girl is sinister. She makes you hump your pillow in front of her while she just sits in front of you with her hand in her pants - enjoying the wet panting sounds coming from you.

❃ up for experimenting with all kinds of things, spanking/slapping, bondage, biting (😏) - but her guilty pleasure is using her knife, just watching the dull part gliding over your thighs really does something to her.. She has accidentally nicked you a couple a times, but she doesn't even apologize - only licks the blood away.

❃ sometimes she isn't in the mood to top you and instead leads you through all of the different things she likes. "Just like that - mhm" "your doing so good baby.. Keep going" "fuck, you make me feel so good y/n"

❃ goes rough on you whether the yj team wins or loses, either taking her anger out on you when they lose or being maybe a little too excited after a win.

❃ but ofc she can be gentle with it too, occasionally late at night when she's tired she just likes lazily fucking you with her fingers while watching with fascination how your facial expressions change.

❃ can spend hours biting/marking your body (she has even written in her journal about how she wants to carve her name into your thigh - but that is something she plans on keeping to herself).

❃ after sex she usually just likes laying on top of you, making excuses as to not get up.

-

a/n: I kinda want to make these hcs a series.. Should I??

MAIN MASTERLIST

[sapphicswph]

Steamy windows

pairing: bottom!reader x billie eilish

warnings: car sex, fingering, public sex (kind of??) 18+ only! not proofread, slightly fluff, suggestive themes, explicit language

it was a quiet night, the streets wet from the light rain that had passed. billie was driving her black dodge challenger, they usually just drove around together, listening to music on her aux, it was peaceful. you sat in the passenger seat, your legs crossed and your eyes on billie. you loved watching your girlfriend drive; the way her hands gripped he steering wheel, the concentration on her face, the way she would occasionally purse her lips or glance over at you. it was sexy as hell.

the car was filled with soft music, the soft hum of the engine and the occasional flick of the windshield wipers. billie suddenly turned her head to look at you, a small smirk playing on her lips as she caught you staring at her. the streetlights flashed across her face, highlighting her sharp features.

"you keep looking at me like that and i might pull over, you know." she teased, he voice low and playful. the cars interior was warm, the heater blowing softly. billie's hands were casual on the steering wheel - fingers absentmindedly playing with her ring.

you bit your lip, feeling your face flush at billie's teasing. you uncrossed your legs slowly, letting them fall open a bit more. the short skirt you was wearing rode up your thighs. "oh? and what would you do if you pulled over?" you challenged, your voice taking on a slight flirtatious tone. billie's eyes flickered down to your legs before snapping back to the road.

billie's grip tightened on the steering wheel. she took a deep breath, trying to keep her eyes on the road. the flirtatious banter between you was getting hotter by the second. she knew you were wearing a matching set of black lace underwear under your clothes. "i'd probably fuck you in the backseat." she said bluntly, her voice husky. the car hit a small bump. "hard."

you felt a throb between your legs at billie's words, her panties already dampening. you shifted in your seat, trying to ease the ache. "is that a promise?" you asked softly, your eyes never leaving billie's profile. the car slowed down slightly as you approached a quiet, secluded parking spot. the rain had stopped completely now, leaving behind a misty atmosphere.

without answering, billie suddenly pulled the car into the empty parking spot. she turned off the engine and the headlights, plunging them into darkness except for the occasional streetlight flickering through the windows. "it's a promise." she reached over and and cupped your face, pulling you into a demanding kiss before releasing you and getting out of the car. "backseat. now." her voice was commanding. the car doors opened and closed softly.

you quickly complied, sliding into the backseat as billie made her way around the car. your heart was racing, your body aching for billie's touch. the car's interior was pitch black, only the faintest glow from outside visible. you could hear billie's heavy breathing as she slid into the backseat beside you.

billie reached out, finding your cheek and cupping it tenderly. "come here, baby," she whispered, her voice soft and inviting. she leaned in, pressing a sweet, loving kiss to your lips. her other hand snaked around your waist as you straddled her lap.

you melted into the kiss, your body molding against billie's neck, your fingers playing with the ends of her hair. the kiss deepened, growing more passionate as your bodies pressed closer. billie's hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and caressing through your clothes. you rocked your hips gently, grinding against billie's thigh.

billie's hands found the hem of your skirt. slowly lifting it up to reveal your black lace underwear. she broke the kiss to trail open-mothed kisses down your neck and collarbone, her fingers hooking in the waistband of your underwear. "lift up, baby," she whispered softly, her voice muffled against your skiin. "let me see you..."

you lifted your hips slightly, allowing billie to slide your underwear down your thighs. the cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver with anticipation, billie's fingers gently traced the outline of your folds, causing you to gasp softly. "god, you're so wet," billie murmured appreciaively, rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

your head fell back, your lips parting in a silent moan as billie's touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. you rocked your hips in time with billie's movements, seeking more of her touch, billie slipped two fingers inside you, moving in slow, gentle thrusts as her thumb continued to circle your clit. the car filled with the sounds of their quiet moans and the wet noises of billie's fingers moving in and out of you.

billie watched you ride her fingers, your body moving gracefully. she loved seeing this side of you - soft, unguarded, and sexy as hell. her fingers went deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made you whimper softly. she pulled her fingers out slightly, then pushed them back in again, repeating the the motion slowly.

your whimpers grew louder as billie’s fingers hit the same spot over and over again. you gripped the back of the seat, your nails digging into the leather as you tried to hold back your moans. your legs shook slightly as you continued to ride billie’s fingers, you were only getting wetter and wetter. "babe... fuck," you gasped, biting your lip. “i’m gonna come..." your hips moved faster, chasing your orgasm. “fuck... fuck... fuck..."

billie felt you clench around her fingers as you came, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure. she continued to move her fingers inside you, drawing out your orgasm until you were a moaning, shaking mess on top of her. once you finished coming, billie slowly pulled her fingers out, holding them up to admire the wetness coated on them. “god, you're fucking soaked," she whispered, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking them clean.

you watched as billie sucked your juices off her fingers, your eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. you felt empty inside, your pussy still throbbing from the intense orgasm. you leaned in and captured billie’s mouth with your own, kissing her deeply as you tasted yourself on her tongue. when you broke apart, you nuzzled into billie’s neck, breathing heavily. “fuck... i love you so much," you murmured, your voice filled with love and adoration.

billie wrapped her arms around you, holding you close in the dark backseat. the rain began to fall softly again, creating gentle tapping sounds on the car roof. she stroked your hair lovingly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “i love you more, baby," she whispered with all the warmth and sincerity in her heart.

———————————————————————————————

a bit short :(( send requests! i’m active like 24/7 lmao

[xmissrogersx]

I just know it, darlin’ | Joel Miller

tags: reader is pregnant, ellie and Joel being protective, joel being a daddy’s girl of course.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

Ellie was in her room with Dina. Both were reading old comics.

-Hey, it's great that you're going to have a sister…—the brunette said with emotion.

-Or brother, this people doesn’t wanna know it yet. But yes, it's great and everything... the wait doesn't end anymore —Ellie sighed.

-Why do you say that? María told me that a pregnant woman is sometimes more sensitive, but I don't think Paris is like that, is she?

-Well... -Ellie said under her breath, not wanting to sound too obvious. She loves the blonde very much, who looked like a motherly figure for her in every way possible.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

-Hush little baby don't say a word, papa's going to buy a mockingbird!

Paris entered the kitchen singing with a microphone, that on Maria's recommendation, the baby could hear the voices of her parents.

Joel was having his morning coffee when he heard his wife enter, and then snorted under his breath and brought his right hand to between his brows.

Ellie was having her cereal for breakfast, raising both hands to her ears and resting her head against the table.

-And if the mockingbird won't sing, papa's going to buy a diamond ring.

-Papa is going to buy 10 diamonds just to shut up that fucking bird —the girl whispered to her father, who silenced her, not wanting Paris to listen.

-What do you want for lunch today? —the young woman asked both of them.

-Whatever you want, darlin’ —Joel replied, stroking her hand, which made the girl start tearing her up.

-Oh, not again —Ellie begged. When Paris started with the "hormonal crying" session it was difficult to stop her.

-You're so sweet —between hiccups and small tears that went down her cheeks.

-Okay, I'm going, I’m late to meet Jesse.

Getting up to quickly go to the door, the blonde stopped her so she wouldn't forget her lunch.

-Thank you.

-I put you a chocolate with extra peanut that I bought the week before, you deserve it for your great first patrol, baby.

The girl hugged her as best she could because of the woman's big belly, who was already starting to cry again.

-It's okay, I'm leaving —Ellie ran to the door.

-I have to go with Tommy, beautiful —Joel announced while hugging her from behind. Paris sighed.

-It's okay... I guess you have to go, you have no choice —she walked away to start climbing the stairs slowly.

-He wants to show me the plans for the new houses...

-I know, I understand. Well, then I'll go upstairs, to our room...

While the young woman said those words, she began to unbutton her shirt, and lower her skirt, revealing a set of black lingerie with lace that made Joel not remember how to breathe.

-Do you think I should lie down and take it out? I'm feeling a little hot.

-It would be a mistake if I say no. You're beautiful, baby girl —he exclaimed with a dark look.

The blonde smiled under her breath.

-So, do you have to go with Tommy?

-Fuck Tommy.

Joel take her in his arms to go up to their room.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Paris sat on the couch next to her husband, who was reading an old construction manual.

-Officially there are only 2 months left to meet him —the blonde exclaimed excitedly to Joel, who approached her to place a kiss on his lips, and then another on his bulging belly.

-Don't you want to the baby hear your voice? Maria said he must listen to the voices of both parents.

-Baby, I think she already listens to me without needing that thing, don't worry, the baby will know our voices.

-¿she? ¿how do you know is a girl? —Paris raise an eyebrow.

-I Just know it, darlin’ — and he relaxed, believing that he had ended the subject.

The woman nodded taking his hand, and then took the microphone again.

-Twinkle twinkle, little lamb! —Joel was startled by his girlfriend's scream.

-Paris, please don't sing anymore -he speak as wisely as I could.

-Why? —she asked surprised.

-Because... you don't sing very well, baby...

-You finally told her —a voice roared behind them.

The blonde opened her mouth in indignation, looking at her partner and daughter, to get ready to answer the accusation.

-Calm down, we don't want the baby to hear us fight. Come, let's go for an ice cream.

-How dare you, you..

-Hey, we said no fights in front of the baby.

-That's ridiculous, I'm always in front of the baby, Joel —she pointed to her big belly.

-Paris just calm down, okay? When all this is over, we will laugh at this —Ellie appeased.

-Your out-of-tune songs, your nocturnal cravings, your incessant cries... we love you, but it's already getting very unbearable —the girl listed.

-You're going through something huge, baby, it's normal. It will be over, soon —Joel finished.

The woman saw them with a grimace on her face, and then smiled falsely.

-You are two tiny little man to me right now — she approached slowly making a gesture of crushing with his fingers.- and you must leave this house to return with more respect, and a pizza!

Father and daughter were stunned, they didn't expect Paris reaction.

-Pizza sounds good —he said, cutting the silence.

-Yes, I'm hungry for pizza —Ellie replied.

Before leaving, they both walked to the blonde to kiss her on each cheek, who was with her arms crossed and with her eyebrow raised.

-With double cheese —the young woman demanded.

-Yes, darlin’ —Joel replied, and then went out the door.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

-Wow —said an amazed Dina to her friend.

-Yep, althought I partly understand her, it must be horrible to carry that heavy —the girl moved her hands to her belly.

A knock on the door made both girls scream their heads, seeing a blonde hair.

-Girls, I don't want to ruin your fun, but it's already past 10; and tomorrow you have training. Go to sleep. Ellie, you already know how your father gets.

-I already want him to be born —Ellie settled inside her sheets, to which the young woman wrapped her.

-Just like me, I can't stand not being able to see my feet anymore —she exclaimed, causing the girl a laugh.-Good night sweetheart.

-Good rest, ma —the girl replied, causing a jump in Paris heart.

Paris went out the bedroom door to see her man lying on the wall, who smiled to see her emotion.

-It's already the third time she tells me "ma" -she sobbed with joy, to which Joel took her face to bring their breaths closer and merge into one.

They moved away for lack of air, but without ceasing to look at each other with the same love they had seen for 3 years.

-You are, baby. You're her mother.

Paris felt blessed. The world would be chaos, but his world was perfect.

Hello baby girls!

I hope you have seen the references of Modern Family! Personally MF is my fav comedy series.

If you help me by sharing my story on your profiles you would help me a lot, I love writing very much, I feel that great things are coming. And with you reading my stories, the more I want to do them.

Thank you for reading!

Priscila🌸

[girlballs]

Mabel...

What the fuck was the pre-fucked bread?????

What's the story behind your brother's fucked bread?

well. i don't remember exactly what went wrong, but he was baking bread from scratch and it wound up with a weird cavity in it that was revealed when he sliced the end off.

we joked that it looked like someone tried to fuck it, he insisted it came out of the oven like that. pre-fucked bread.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Porn Boom: Dennis Whitaker x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There's a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before...

Pretty Boy (NSFW) - You and Dennis take the next step in your relationship.

Permanent Marker - Your protectiveness over Dennis shows when you find out about the betting pool.

Being with you is a sexual revelation, one that Dennis never expected to have. He’s not just talking about the intercourse, the positions that you introduce him to. He’s talking about the other stuff, the stuff he hadn’t realised he needed to take the edge off the really shitty day he’s just had.

Like your hand wrapped around his lubed up dick, bring him to the edge for the third time tonight. Your lips on his throat, teeth grazing the soft skin as you build him back up slow, relentless strokes until he’s a desperate mess in your sheets.

“Oh pretty boy.” You whisper, lightly nipping at his ear. “If you want to come in my pussy, you’ve got to show me how bad you want it. Fuck my hand a little, show me what I’m missing.”

His cheeks colour, flushing that pretty pink hue but the way you touch him, he has no choice but to obey. He thrusts up into your fist, the silky lube coating him and it feels like heaven wrapped around his dick.

“Fuck Lola. I need you.” He whispers, his cheek pressing against yours. “I need to feel you around me. Need to come with you.”

“Alright Denny.” You whisper, straddling his hips. “Let’s do it together.”

You sink down onto him and he cries out at the sensation because your pussy, it’s perfect, just like the rest of you.  

“Don’t move.” He whispers against your lips because he’s on a hair trigger and he needs you to be right there with him when it happens. Your palms grip his shoulders, fingertips digging into his skin as he reaches down between the two of you, seeking out your clit.

Your breath hitches as his fingers trace delicates circles across that sensitive bud and it feels like tiny rays of sunshine blossoming within your nerve endings as you clench around him. Your hips begin to rock against his but his arm circles your waist, holding you close stopping your movements.

“I told you not to move.” He murmurs, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he increases the pressure of his fingers. You moan at the sensation and he smiles against your mouth because he has you right where he wants you, on the edge with him, tightening around his cock.

“Come with me baby.” He murmurs as he starts to fuck up into you. “Let me give that pussy what it needs.”

It takes three strokes and you’re climaxing all over his cock, gripping him so hard that his entire body combusts like a thousand stars bursting into existence. He comes with you in long, hot spurts, clasping you to him as buries himself deep, his eyes fixed on yours in that moment of rapture.

“You liked that didn’t you.” He murmurs against your jaw as your heart thunders against his. “Me telling you what to do a little?”

“Yea.” You whisper, your forehead coming to rest upon his. “I don’t usually like enjoy bossy men but you… you’re sweet with it. You make it about me, you don’t…”

You trail off and his thumb runs over the apricot blush across your cheek.

“I don’t what?” He asks you softly.

“Most the men I’ve been with, they grew up in the porn boom. They learned to fuck like that. They replicate those videos, the moves and the terminology…”

“I don’t understand.” He says because your farm boy, he’s so fucking innocent sometimes it’s endearing.

“They pound you like you’re nothing but a hole to fuck while calling you their dirty little  whore.” You summarise for him. “Because those videos with all that degradation, they’re geared towards men, they’re not about what a woman wants, it’s about cum shots and submission. You’re not like that, when you get a little dommy, it’s about taking care of me, not about where you’re blowing your load.”

“I will always take care of you.” Dennis says fiercely. “You are far more to me than something to get my dick into on a Friday night-”

“I know that.” You reassure him. “You are different to any other person I have been with and I love that, I love us and the things we’re doing together. I just want to make sure you know where I’m coming from, that there are certain things that are off limits for me.”

“And we will not do any of those things.” He murmurs as he guides you down onto the mattress, your thighs still locked around his hips. “We’ll only do the things you dream about, the things we both want to do.”

“Is that what you’re all about?” You tease as your fingertips trace intricate patterns along his back. “Making my wildest dreams come true?”

“Yea.” He promises you, his mouth brushing over yours. “Every single one of them.”

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[the-witchhunter]

Actually, to talk a bit about Eddie Bloomberg aka Red Devil aka Kid Devil

While staying with his Aunt living in Hollywood he is a bit of a fanboy and decided to be the sidekick of Blue Devil, and so snuck into Dan’s workshop at knockoff Warner bros and made himself a suit and also a functioning rocket powered trident.which probably isn’t easy even if the equipment, materials and schematics were in the studio. So the reluctant hero reluctantly acquired a sidekick

His parents kind of suck too

First they are not happy he’s a sidekick which is entirely reasonable. They want to take him home and away before getting talked out of it. Then later they start having marriage problems. Their solution? They retire and travel the world together to work on their marriage and abandon their son with his aunt in Hollywood. His aunt lied and said it was her idea to spare his feelings but seriously fuck his parents for that one. I get that it’s comics trying to get them out of the way because teen heroes can’t exactly function with adequate parental supervision but still really sucks

He and Jason Todd then became pen pals and teamed up. Kid Devil and Robin(Jason) were friends!

At some point Eddie sold his soul and is now a Demon. This is when he switched to Red Devil. He ended up having a falling out with Blue Devil at some point and started working with the Teen Titans. He and Tim Drake worked together as Titans, which I must have been weird considering his whole connection to the last Robin. There’s also this tasty bit of angst where he reveals he was faking calling Blue Devil and chatting with him, no once but frequently, and he was incredibly lonely

He died at some point and blue Devil mourned him , but I believe he got brought back in a flash comic that also brought back a number of other characters that got killed off during an event

I forget sometimes that I’m too deep into DC and think to myself that I should make prompts with the Blue Devil being friends with Tucker and Tuck learning Technomagic from him and yet like 5 people who follow me will understand what I’m going for

[fafodill]

Not sure if you know this but your willingness to comment on smut truly is a gift among fandom. Lots of times the comments drop off sharply for smut chapters. It's understandable people are a little embarrassed sometimes but it just means every little comment they do leave means even more.

Smut is an art form!!!

Smut is SO hard to write!!!

Smut deserves the reviews!!!

I love smut. I always have. I'm a slut for smut.

I can totally understand why people may not be comfortable reviewing it - it's a bit self-revealing isn't it? (though I find it much worse when I try to write smut, I feel utterly naked to everyone hahaha like here, have all these specifics scenarios and words that I clearly personally like and find arousing, xoxo) I have a lot of respect for the people who write it, there's something so honest and human in it.

'Here, I really wanted to bang this character so I put them on their knees for my own pleasure. Have it as well.'

'I feel strongly that these two characters need to hate-fuck so hard one will cry in pleasure at the end because they need it so bad.'

'I need these three characters to have a 9 chapter long fuck week where they will rediscover their love for one another and heal their trauma wounds in a healthy way.'

Smut is amazing. Smut is therapy. Smut is self-indulgence. Smut is exploration. Smut is happiness.

All hail the smut.

Comment on the smut. ❤️‍🔥 The authors deserve it. They're putting themselves out here, they're sharing the urge. They put the sexy words together. They're so nice.

All hail smut authors.

We need you.

And I love you.

But to answer your ask more directly, thank you for telling me this. It's very rewarding and I actually wasn't really aware of the difference in reviews in smut work/chapters because to me, this is always the part I'm excited for, so I may project my own enthusiasm on other people.