#You’ll be wobbling for WEEKS

[vohtaro]

[endlessthxxghts]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

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“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. ���Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon���

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[hon3y-y]

Mean nerd! Choso who is extreme intelligent and makes it known. He calls you dumb and belittles your intelligence, but is secretly in love with you. He offers to tutor you and every time you get a good grade he rewards by eating you out and being so sweet and loving, but when you get a bad grade punishment is the worst.

cw; dubcon/noncon (vv light), smut

He’s a meanie but it’s only to show his love:( he wants better for you, and he wants your dumb little brain to be filled with knowledge. He only calls you a “stupid slut” because he cares, not because he likes to see your pretty eyes tear up and your cheeks flush with humiliation. And he definitely doesn’t use that image when he’s pumping his fist full of his cum, his eyes rolling back as he forces himself through a third orgasm to the thought of your pretty tear stained cheeks.

In all honesty, He wants to make you sob on his dick and make your brain numb to anything but the way his cock drags against your tight cunt, maybe he could fuck the knowledge into you? He was willing to give it a try at the very least.

After weeks of torture, he finally convinced you to a tutoring session after saying that “you need him” if you want to pass the class with a decent grade. He worked you tirelessly, making you stay late to study and pulling your hair if you went to sleep(but not before putting his own head down and admiring your puffy lips and the light drool, cooing when your nose scrunched). The sessions usually ending with you in tears, your wobbly voice saying “I’m done.” and leaving mad.

You had full intention of quitting, sick and tired of the endless torments until you looked at your next exam. The score higher than all the rest and a bitter taste in your mouth when you realized he actually did help you.

At the next session you showed him the perfect score, reluctantly saying thank you. You were surprised when he gave you a genuine smile and even more when he had you face down on his bed, eating your pussy like a man. He’s spitting and licking from your clit to your ass, pushing his tongue in and smiling cheekily when you gasp.

Your head is in sheets that smell like him, arching your back as you whimper out praises and begging for him to not stop. He places a teasing kiss to your clit, pulling back to watch his fingers pop through the tiny hole of your pussy, biting his lip to stop a groan as he feels you flutter and nearly creams his pants when you look back to plead with him. “It’s okay baby, I got you~” he leans down to kiss your ass cheek before continuing to eat you out until you’re thrashing and squealing at the lightest touches.

He works you into overstimulation because he loves how you look when you cum, the tiny noises you make and the sound of his stuttered name making his cock twitch. He’ll reach down in the middle of slurping your juices to rub his hard-on through his sweats, letting out little puffs of hot air on your pussy when he brushes over his sensitive tip. He’ll probably make himself cum in his pants, reaching his dirty fingers to push into you or swirl over your soaking lips to make it creamier, watching the two of you mix together, making his soft dick hard again.

But god forbid you bring him a bad grade, you’ll leave sore and bruised. He’ll spank you until you’re sobbing and then slap your pussy until it’s raw, “you’re nothing but a slut huh? What, I treat you well once and you go and get stupid on me?”

He had you in mating press, cock hitting your cervix as you let out a choked sob. You’re sore cunt aches for him. he’s been edging you for hours and refuses to let you cum, leaving you to plead and wail as he pushes you closer to the edge again. “C-cho, please—been s’ good!” You slur, not being able to form words as he bullies his cock into you and uses his hand to cut off your circulation.

He scoffs, “good girls get good grades.” He pulls out completely, groaning as he pumps his cock and cums on your face with a whine. You shut your eyes when it lands on you, eye brows furrowing. “But I haven’t—“ he cuts you off with a tut, shaking his head as he catches his breath. “Only smart girls get to cum, sweetheart. let’s get cleaned up.”

**bonus**Will perform aftercare anyway because he’s not a monster</3, you’ll just pout the whole time and he’ll enjoy every second of it.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[pucksandpower]

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah

Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: you celebrate Hanukkah with your boyfriend and his family for the first time

The warm glow of the chandelier fills the Strolls’ spacious dining room, casting soft golden light across the table laden with brisket, latkes, and an assortment of other dishes you can’t name but are determined to try.

Lance is at your side, leaning slightly back in his chair, one arm casually slung over the back of yours. His fingers tap absently at your shoulder as if to remind you he’s here. You appreciate it, considering the nerves humming through your body.

Chloe is mid-sentence, waving her fork with a flourish. “I’m just saying, it’s not Hanukkah without the family dreidel tournament. We’re doing it after dinner. Non-negotiable.”

Scotty laughs, his easy smile lighting up the room. “Is that because you win every year? You rig the rules.”

Chloe gasps. “Excuse me? I’m just naturally gifted at spinning a piece of wood. Don’t be jealous.”

Across the table, Lawrence clears his throat, his deep voice effortlessly cutting through the chatter. “It’s not about winning. It’s about tradition. And teaching new traditions to the ones joining us.” His gaze lands on you, warm but expectant.

You manage a smile. “I’m looking forward to it. Though, full disclosure, I’ve never played before.”

Lance grins, nudging you gently. “Don’t worry. It’s easy. You spin, you win, you make Chloe mad — just like the rest of us.”

Chloe throws a latke at him. “You wish. Y/N, you’re on my team.”

“Since when are there teams?” Scotty interjects.

“Since I just made them up,” Chloe retorts, flipping her hair dramatically.

Lawrence raises an eyebrow, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can we finish the meal before declaring war?”

You glance at Lance, whispering under your breath, “Is it always like this?”

He chuckles softly. “You have no idea.”

***

Later, the dining table is cleared of the few sufganiyot left over from dessert, replaced by a small bowl of shiny chocolate gelt and an ancient, slightly chipped dreidel. You sit cross-legged on the plush rug, between Lance and Chloe, as Scotty reads out the rules like a referee.

“Alright, reminder for everyone, especially the newbies,” he winks at you. “Nun, nothing happens. Gimel, you get everything. Hey, you get half. Shin, you give one up. Simple enough?”

“Simple,” you repeat, though the Hebrew letters are a jumble in your mind.

Chloe elbows you lightly. “Beginner’s luck is real. You’ll probably clean us all out.”

“Unless Lance decides to show off,” Scotty teases, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.

Lance picks up the dreidel, turning it over in his hands like it’s a piece of racing equipment he’s testing for flaws. “It’s just a dreidel. Relax.”

“You’re taking forever,” Chloe says. “Y/N, you go first.”

Your stomach flips. All eyes are on you, even Lawrence’s, though his expression remains unreadable. You pick up the dreidel, the smooth wood cool in your palm. Lance leans in slightly, his voice low and playful. “Just flick it. Not too hard, or it’ll bounce into next week.”

“Great advice,” you deadpan, shooting him a look.

He grins, completely unrepentant.

Taking a breath, you spin. The dreidel whirls across the hardwood, the letters blurring. It wobbles, then falls. Gimel.

“Are you serious?” Chloe groans. “She’s taking all the gelt already?”

You laugh, half in relief, half in disbelief, as Lance tosses his hands up. “What did I tell you? Beginner’s luck!”

Lawrence leans back in his chair, watching with quiet amusement. “You’re off to a strong start.”

The game continues, the room filling with laughter and playful jabs. Chloe accuses Scotty of cheating. Scotty retaliates by stealing a piece of her chocolate. Lance spins for so long at one point that you’re convinced he’s figured out how to defy the laws of physics. Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the initial nerves melting away like wax from the menorah candles.

At one point, Lance nudges you with his knee. “Having fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit. “Though I think Chloe’s plotting my downfall.”

“She plots everyone’s downfall,” he says with a grin, then leans closer, his voice dropping. “You’re doing great, by the way.”

You glance at him, curious. “At what? Playing dreidel?”

“No,” he says softly, his gaze steady. “Fitting in.”

The words catch you off guard, simple as they are. You search his face, wondering if he realizes how much they mean to you. Before you can respond, Chloe interrupts, declaring, “Okay, I’m done losing. Let’s light the candles.”

***

The family gathers around the menorah, the room growing quieter. Lance stands beside you, his arm brushing yours. Lawrence picks up the shamash, his movements deliberate, reverent. He lights the next candle, the tiny flame flickering before it steadies.

The prayer begins, and you listen, the unfamiliar Hebrew washing over you like a melody you don’t know the words to but can still hum along with. Lance’s voice is low, confident, blending seamlessly with his family’s.

You wonder if he learned this as a child, if the sound of it feels like home to him.

When it’s over, Chloe turns to you with a mischievous grin. “So, Y/N. First Hanukkah with the Strolls. How’s it going?”

You hesitate, suddenly aware of all the eyes on you. “It’s … a lot to take in. But in the best way. I mean, I’ve never celebrated Hanukkah before, so this is all new. But it’s-” You glance at Lance, then back at the others. “It’s really nice. Warm. I feel lucky to be here.”

Lawrence nods, his expression softening. “We’re glad you’re here.”

“And,” Chloe adds, “you’re way better at dreidel than Lance, so you’re already winning.”

“Hey!” Lance protests, feigning indignation. “I’m right here.”

“Exactly,” she says, laughing.

You can’t help but smile, your earlier nerves now replaced by a quiet sense of belonging. As the candles burn lower, the conversations drift to other topics — racing, snowboarding, hockey, upcoming travel plans, Chloe’s latest song idea. Lance keeps his hand on your knee, a subtle anchor in the midst of the lively chaos.

Later, as the evening winds down and the family begins to disperse, Lance pulls you aside. The room is quieter now, the glow of the menorah casting long shadows. He tugs you close, his arms looping loosely around your waist.

“You survived,” he says, his voice warm with teasing.

“Barely,” you reply, though you’re smiling. “Your family is … intense. In a good way.”

“They like you,” he says simply, then adds with a smirk, “Even my dad.”

“High praise,” you tease back.

He grows quieter, his gaze softening. “Seriously, though. You were great tonight. I know this was a big deal for you, trying something new. I’m proud of you.”

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Lance. I-” You pause, struggling to find the right words. “I just wanted to do it right. For you. For them.”

“You did,” he says firmly. “More than right.”

The flicker of candlelight dances in his eyes, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours.

“I love you,” he murmurs, so quietly it’s almost lost in the stillness.

Your breath catches, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him. Then you smile, the kind of smile that starts deep in your chest and spreads like warmth through your whole body.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

And in the quiet glow of the menorah, with the scent of candles and laughter lingering in the air, you realize that this — this messy, lively, imperfectly perfect night — is what family feels like.

[carnalcrows]

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt. 

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point. 

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach. 

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[finelinevogue]

you need to calm down

summary - a collection of moments before you and harry go to the eras tour

[ sat in my drafts for FAR too long ]

word count - ~1.5k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩✨🪩

It started by fighting for your life to get tickets.

Only to lose the great war.

You’d been in bed all day since you had attempted to get Era’s Tour tickets this morning. You were trying to get tickets for you and your friend - now ex-friend - only to find out she’d already agreed to go with someone else when you couldn’t get yours, leaving you both ticketless and friendless.

You were scrolling through your phone to see how many fans, that you followed on social media, managed to get tickets.

That was when your boyfriend came home.

“Y/N/N? I’m home!”

Harry always called out the same phrase whenever he stepped through the front door. Sometimes, he might have just been washing your car and he’ll announce himself again.

It was very comforting to have the little routine though.

“I’m up here!” You shouted back.

“Okay, one minute!”

You tried to hype yourself into behaving like a normal person, who wasn’t entirely crushed by not getting tickets to your favourite artist.

You sat up in bed and tried to make yourself look a little less distraught.

Harry walked into your shared bedroom a couple minutes later with a gift bag.

“Is that for me?”

“Wh… Not even a hello?” He pretended to be offended, whilst he rounded your side of the bed to sit next to you.

“I’m sorry. Shitty morning,” You smiled papologetically, “Hi.”

He graciously accepted your kiss that you offered as an apology.

Harry’s hand cupped your cheek afterwards, eyebrows furrowed as he searched your eyes for something.

“What was shitty?”

“I didn’t get Taylor tickets.” You frowned, but pretended to pass it off as nothing even though Harry knew you well enough to known it wasn’t.

“Hmm. I’m sorry, baby. That must’ve been horrible.” He kissed your cheek after letting it go.

“It was.” You flopped back on the bed.

“Wanna see what I got?”

“Sure.”

Harry reached into the bag and pulled out a t-shirt. It was a plain white T but you could see it was going to have a print on the front of it.

Harry unfolded it and smiled as he did, watching your reaction rather than the looking at his gift.

You were confused when you saw the print on the t-shirt, though.

In my swiftie boyfriend era.

And it was in the style of the t-shirt that Taylor wears for the Red portion of the Eras Tour.

You laughed, “Nice.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. ‘Cause it’s what i’m going to wear when we go to the Eras Tour.” He smirked then, knowing that would prompt a reaction.

“What?!” You sat up quick.

“What?” Harry pretended to play dumb.

“Harry…” Your lips wobbled and eyes teared up as you processed his sentence.

“Are you upset you’ll have to go with me?” He smiled sympathetically at your tearful face.

“You actually got us tickets?”

“Yeah.”

You lunged for Harry then, tackling him down on the bed and pressing a kiss every 2 centimetres across his face.

You were both laughing, whilst you also crying happy tears, and Harry let you assault him with kisses as much as your heart was content. He did deserve them after all.

•-•

A week before the concert you were panicking.

“I don’t have a suitable outfit!”

You were running between your closet and your bedroom to show Harry possible options.

Currently you were in a sage green bralette and matching panties, in between changing outfits.

You came to stand at the foot of the bed, whilst Harry lay on your bed against the headboard and scrolling through his phone every few minutes for outfit inspiration.

“I like that outfit.” Harry said, smirking.

You picked up a rogue t-shirt that was on the bed, balled it up and threw it at him. “You’re disgusting.”

“What?! I’m just saying you look really good!” He defended himself.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms.

Harry put his phone to the side, stretching his arms behind his head and leaving them to rest there. In doing so, the muscles on his bare chest flexed and made you weak at the sight.

In only his boxers, Harry knew exactly what he was doing but so did you in your lingerie.

“So I should just go to the Eras like this?” You asked, unfolding your arms, bending slightly to press your hands onto the bed in front of you.

“Sure.” Harry said, less confident now.

“You’re okay with me parading around with little to nothing on,” You leant forward to allow yourself to crawl onto the bed, slowly moving forwards towards your awaiting boyfriend, “Showing off to everyone what’s yours.”

Harry tried his best not to move, but he didn’t have that much restraint.

Next thing you knew he had tackled you down onto the bed and rolled on top of you.

You breathed heavily as you awaited what he’d do next.

“Show off to anyone you like, babe, because at the end of the day I’m the only who actually gets to call you mine.”

And he started by kissing you, which made you forget all about your outfit dilemma for… well the rest of the day.

•-•

It was Eras day and you were so not ready.

You and Harry had taken the entire day off because you wanted a full swiftie experience and Harry would do anything to keep you happy.

You started getting ready in the afternoon, seeing as you didn’t need to be at the venue until 3PM and you lived only half an hour away.

Harry was currently ironing his trousers and tshirt, whilst you focused on your makeup.

“Babe?” You called.

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to bring that extra bag of bracelets.”

“It’s by the front door already, love.”

“M’kay!”

You bopped along to your Taylor playlist whilst applying some gems to your eyes to bejewel yourself. You had one opportunity to make this the greatest swiftie experience of you life and you were taking it.

You’d decided to go for a general western theme for your outfit, seeing as you loved all the eras too much to choose one.

The bohemian inspired dress you were wearing was white and you had your beaten brown cowboy boots to go with it. So your accessories had to make up for your plain’ish outfit.

The gems you were applying were silver to match your sliver jewellery.

Harry then appeared behind you in the mirror.

He stood there and smiled at you for a few moments.

“What?” You blushed.

“You look so pretty.” He said, admiring you through the mirror.

“You think?”

“I know.”

He came up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.

You closed your eyes as you enjoyed this moment.

Just you and Harry enjoying each others presence and being so close to one another was a feeling second to none.

As you closed your eyes you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in this moment but him.

“I love you.” He whispered against your neck, causing you to goosebump everywhere.

“I love you too.”

You turned to look at him, before leaning in to kiss him like he deserved.

He welcomed the kiss, cupping the back of your neck to keep you there, kissing him, for a few extra seconds than you’d intended.

When he pulled back he checked to make sure he’d not ruined your makeup.

“Put some gems on me?” He asked.

You smiled, “Okay.”

Harry moved to sit on the toilet lid, whilst you got your self-adhesive gem stickers ready.

You stood in between his legs, Harry gripping the back of your thighs to keep you there as if you’d just slip away otherwise.

“What colour?”

“Don’t know. Whatever you think is best.” He leaned forwards to kiss the bare skin between your bra and your sports leggings.

“Behave.” You warned, pushing his head away.

“I can’t when it comes to you.” He smirked up at you.

You blushed, can’t believing that he still made you blush even after all this time, before grabbing the gems and getting to work.

You applied some silver ones, the same as yours, to the corner of his outer eyes. “Just two?”

“Yeah, thank you baby.”

“Now you look so pretty.” You kissed the top of his head like he was your baby.

“Thank you.” It was his turn to blush.

“Now give me ten more minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Okay.” He stood up, leaning down to give you a parting kiss.

•-•

Just before you left the house, you made sure Harry had his bracelets on.

“No, I want you to wear this one.”

You took ahold of his hand and slid the bracelet on.

“Out of style.” Harry read the bracelet with a small laugh.

“You need all of the Style ones, okay? Only trade with people who have got 1989 bracelets.”

“I know, I know!”

You had so many on your arms and they were slightly cutting off your blood circulation, but it was so worth it.

Harry had a lot less on, but you also knew people would be desperately throwing their bracelets at him without wanting anything in returning just to be able to say they gave Harry Styles a friendship bracelet.

“Okay, ready to go?”

“I am if you are, m’love.”

“Then let me give you one last thing!”

You reached into your bag and pulled out another bracelet, this one you had spent precious time making.

“What’s this?” Harry asked as he took it from you.

Blue and white beads made the colours of the bracelet, whilst there were also some tiny moon charms and stars too because Harry always wished upon them.

Because he wished so hard, one of them had actually come true.

“Wait… Love, this says…”

“Mhm.” You watched as his eyes filled with tears and his hand holding the bracelet shook.

“Dad to be.” He read out the words wrapped around the bracelet so softly, like he couldn’t understand it yet:

You reached your hand around the back of his head, scratching the scruff on the back of his neck how he liked whenever he was emotional.

“You okay?” You asked with a smile, tearing up yourself over his soft reaction.

“I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Yeah, baby. You are.”

“We’re gonna be parents…” He looked at you and noticed you were as tearful as him.

He immediately put on the bracelet, before putting that hand on your stomach to feel whether he could notice a difference. Not so much yet, but just knowing his child was happily growing there made him want to cry all over.

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“I need to google how to change a nappy.” He made a joke, licking his lips as tears fell around his mouth.

“We’ve got time.”

And you kissed him before he could worry any more and make you miss the Eras…

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 3 - Bolt

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Back again! I have split the final chapter into two parts as it makes more sense that way, you’ll see why when you read the last one – which hopefully I should be able to post later this week, or early next – I’m just working on getting it right. Warnings for angst, angst and angst in this part – sorry in advance. I felt a bit weepy writing this. I’ve been blown away by the support this story has received, especially as it was written on a bit of a whim, so thank-you for all your reblogs and comments – it means a lot!! Also shout-out to the recent Variety SebStan photoshoot - very inspirational...

💔

You were sleeping like the dead, it was a miracle that anything could’ve woken you – but the soft click of the hotel door opening must’ve cut through the void somehow, because you shot up in bed awake, disorientated and suddenly on alert. Your breathing was heavy as you adjusted to your surroundings. What…where were…?

Bucky gently closed the door behind him and rushed over to your bedside.

“Hey, hey…it’s just me, you’re okay doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I was trying to slip in quietly…” he cooed, “I thought knocking might be too jarring…stupidly…”

You blinked at him, you were just able to make out his face in the dark as recognition sunk in. His features were subtly illuminated by the parking lot lights, the room’s curtains doing little to keep that glare out. He looked tired and drained; his hair unkempt. There was a weariness in his face that you hadn’t seen before. You groggily flicked on the bedside lamp as your brain caught up with the rest of you.

For a blissful moment you’d forgotten it all, from the haze of sleep, you’d forgotten why you were here. Bucky! Bucky is here! Your safe place. You began to smile and instinctively moved towards him. He smiled too, a relieved smile, holding out a hand to you so you reached for it with your own –

Wait.

Oh.

You saw the hope in his eyes dwindle when you jerked away from him, a scowl hardening your expression as you whipped your hand back as quickly as if it had been burnt. You pulled the sheets high and tight, covering your body as if you didn’t like that any of you was visible to him.

As he tried to lean over to get closer to you, you greeted him with a blunt, hard slap across the face.

He recoiled, his hand moving to his stinging cheek as he stood up to his full height and stepped back, “fine. I deserved that…”

“What are you doing here?” you sneered, “How did you even get in?”

He tilted his head towards the door and held up a key card, “They let me in. They gave me a key”.

“Well, they shouldn’t have! They shouldn’t just give away door keys to random people…”

“They don’t, just me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, “You think this is funny?”

“Doll…” he reached out to you again, but you smacked his hand away.

“No,” you growled.

“I found out the truth…I know it wasn’t you. I’m so sor-” he sounded frantic, stuttering and jumbled, worlds away from the cool and collected man you knew so well. But you were unmoved, his betrayal still stinging and raw.

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your tone flat and cold, “it’s too late”.

“I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry, baby. I flew off the handle without talking to you. I should’ve trusted you…” he pleaded.

“Yes, you should’ve,” you snapped bitterly, “but you didn’t. You wouldn’t let me talk, you just shouted…then you threw me out with nothing! Like I was trash! I walked for nearly two miles alone in the dark, in the middle of the night, Bucky. Anything could’ve happened to me…” your voice wobbled slightly at the end of your sentence; you took a deep breath – refusing to let anymore tears fall for him.

He dipped his head, his gaze dropping, unable to look at you. “I know, you’re right…I keep thinking about it…I keep…”

“Save it!” you shouted, a little more emotional than you intended. “All I wanted was for you to listen to me. I don’t know anything about a recording, or my phone pinging, or whatever you were ranting about. I just can’t believe you wouldn’t believe me, after everything we’ve been through…”

He sighed heavily, then withdrew his phone from his pocket. He began to scroll through.

You scoffed, “what are you-”

And then your voice, clear as day, rang out from his phone. Bucky held it up towards you, his face pained. You listened, stunned, as you heard yourself on the recording. It was so real you almost considered that it was you, and you’d somehow forgotten that you’d actually said it.

“Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything…”

After it had finished, you furrowed your brows in confusion, your mouth hanging open.

“But that wasn’t…” you whispered.

“I know. I know that now,” he sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Rumlow set it up. He put it together with cutting edge AI, some advanced tech Stark helped develop. He also planted fake footage of you on the CCTV. Took your phone to an incriminating location. But Sam caught him tonight. He’s been working with the feds to bring me down, to make room for a HYDRA revival. He knew I’d be weaker and easier to takedown if you and I fell apart, so breaking us up was a two-birds-one-stone deal”.

You blinked, bewildered, a chill running through you as you thought about the lengths someone would go to in order to break you and Bucky up. You knew a little about HYDRA, the rival syndicate that Bucky used to work for before he struck out on his own. They’d been defunct for years, or so Bucky had told you. The implication of someone being able to make your voice say anything they wanted also haunted you. Rumlow could’ve even framed you for a crime with such technology. It was…scary.

You could see why Bucky freaked out, presented with all of this incriminating evidence, but…

“Rumlow didn’t break us up, Bucky”, you said quietly as your words sharpened. “You did. You could’ve come to me first. You could’ve showed me this and we could’ve set everything straight. Instead…you went nuclear…”

He dropped his gaze again to the threadbare hotel carpet, unable to meet your eye. It was almost funny, he looked small for the first time since you’d met him. Despite his towering height and hulking frame, he almost seemed like a little boy in that moment.

“…I just can’t believe you thought I’d do something like that to you. That I’d betray you like that. That I could look you in the eye every day and lie to you and…”

He suddenly looked up, quickly snatching your hand, “I’m so sorry, doll, this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made…I’d do anything to take it back…”

“Well you can’t!” you sniped back at him as you tore your hand away from his, tears in your eyes. “You must think so low of me that you think I’d be capable of this. And all the stuff you said about me leeching off you for your money! I’ve never been comfortable spending your cash and you know that! I can’t believe you’d throw it all back in my face…”

“Baby, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean of it. I was hurt…” he said, the desperation building in his voice as his eyes widened, “I was just trying to hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. I didn’t really think it. I never have”.

“It must’ve come from somewhere!” you spat venomously, “you didn’t pull it out of thin air…”

“I promise. I was just throwing words out and didn’t care what they were as long as they hit. I just was so mad,” he sat down on the bed and began running his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes, he always did that when he was stressed.

He sighed heavily, then turned to you, “Look”, he began – his voice soft now. “I guess part of me always thought this was too good to be true…everything happened so quickly when we met. I’d always been content with one-night stands and casual hook-ups. Then I met you, and…” he trailed off as he chewed his lip, carefully choosing what to say.

You watched him, your earlier anguish now hardened into pure rage, you wanted to kick him out – send him out into the street the way he had with you. But you also wanted to hear this. You wanted to understand what possible reasoning there could be for causing of this pain. What weak excuse he could use to try and justify his cruelty. He looked at you again. His eyes were kind, warm. But you couldn’t help but remember the coldness in them from earlier. You didn’t think you’d ever forget it.

“I guess…everything changed. I fell for you so hard. You took over my life. Invaded my thoughts, my senses. I just wanted to be with you all the time. And to my surprise…you felt the same. This sweet, wonderful woman wanted to be with me, too. I was sure you’d turn away when you found about my job…my past…my scars, my arm... Because why wouldn’t you? You were kind and decent. You saw the best in people. How the hell could you love someone like me? A killer. A monster…”

“Bucky, I…” you croaked.

“Please, just let me finish…” he pleaded, “but somehow, you did love me. And I know you moved in with me quickly, but it felt right. You had a rough start in life, and all I ever wanted to do was take care of you and fix it so you didn’t have to worry about money or paying bills or any of that ever again. I wanted you to sleep soundly, knowing I would protect you and do right by you and you wouldn’t have to sling burgers and fries to get by anymore. And part of me knew it was selfish…because you deserved better than me. You deserved the white picket fence, a dull but decent man with a boring job who comes home and tells you about whatever shit Janet in Accounting got up to that day. But no, you had me – who stole you from that peaceful future to make myself happy. I worked late and committed violent acts. I had to give you bodyguards just in case. I uprooted your entire life. I did my best to give you the love you deserve, but I couldn’t even get that right. When I heard that tape…it was like the universe telling me what I already knew - I wasn’t worthy, and the debt I owed was getting collected. I guess part of me always expected I’d inevitably screw it up, because I never deserved you in the first place. And I’m just sorry that I proved myself right”.

You sniffed back your tears, bowled over by his words. He’d never said anything like this to you before, you had no idea he held those insecurities. The silence hung heavily between you, until you finally spoke, your voice shaky.

“But I was happy slinging burgers. And I never wanted the boring guy. I never wanted the white picket fence. I wanted you, Buck. Only you. I knew who you truly were, and it didn’t matter. It never mattered. You did deserve me. You did deserve love and everything we had…until…well…this”.

He nodded sadly, taking your hand in his.

“I know that now, doll, I do. I ended up sabotaging the best thing that ever happened to me because of my own fears. And that’s on me. But look…I need to ask, do you think you could ever forgive me? I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll go at whatever pace you want…We can just be friends and see how it goes. I’ll go to therapy to sort out my shit. Anything. I’ll never doubt you again. All I ask is that you give me one final chance to fix this. Please, doll…I’m begging you…”

You looked into his big blue eyes, glossy with his unshed tears. Your heart ached and twisted at the sight. You’d never seen him looking so vulnerable before, so lost. You loved him so very much. You would’ve taken a bullet for him if he’d asked. He was correct that the two of you had moved fast in your whirlwind romance, but it always felt like a natural progression. It had always felt right.

But something had shifted. Something monumental. And you didn’t know if it could ever be like it was. It was wrong now.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I can’t….I…” you whispered, squeezing his hand as your tears began to fall. “I want to…I just…I don’t know if I can…”

He inhaled deeply and your heart shattered as you saw the flash of anguish in his eyes. But then he took a moment, a sad but accepting smile creeping over his face. He leaned over and wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“It’s alright, doll” he told you softly. “This was my fault. I’m not gonna force it or push you to forgive if you’re not comfortable doing so, okay? Not because I don’t care or don’t want to fight for you. But because I love you, and loving someone means sometimes you have to let them go”.

You nodded as you looked up into his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Hey, c’mon…” he soothed.

He quickly vanished into the en-suite bathroom, returning with a small wad of toilet paper to dab at your tear-soaked cheeks. He extended a finger and gently moved it under your chin, propping your face up to look at his. The tenderness and care he showed you was what you were used to with Bucky. This was the version of him you’d always known. It almost made you forget about everything. Almost.

You both shared a small smile. A melancholic smile, a smile that you both understood meant too much had happened here tonight. Too much had changed. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Nothing was spoken, but everything was said.

It was hard to know how much time had passed, but eventually he got up and moved to the door. You didn’t stop him, and he didn’t ask you to. He ran a finger over your trusty red backpack as he passed the desk. He chuckled and picked it up, “I should’ve known this old thing was involved. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you left with no clothes or money…but you’ve always been the most resourceful person I know.”

You smiled back at him weakly.

“It’s funny…” he mused as he caressed the straps, “you had this emergency kit already to go. Just in case…”

You shook your head, “no…it wasn’t meant to be a kit, it was just left from where I moved in with you. I didn’t-I just dumped it when I…”

“Yes…left fully packed and untouched. With clothes and cash. And debit cards, presumably. Stashed in a closet by the front door. That doesn’t strike you as a choice? A plan? Even if you weren’t fully aware of it?” he asked.

You didn’t respond as the silence laid thick between you. Incisive Bucky, as always. He could read you better than anyone on the planet. You knew he was right, he knew it too. You swallowed, looking down at the frayed thread on the bedsheet.

“You are always planning, doll. Because you always had to, with the life you’ve had. You always had to keep moving and stay one step ahead. We both know that”.

Again, he was met with your silence as you pulled at the thread. But there was no denial. You couldn’t deny the truth.

“Guess we both had our own ejector seats for this plane,” he mused as he moved the bag back to how he found it. “Looks like we had even more in common than we knew”.

He was right, again. It seemed that both of you had your anxieties and insecurities about this relationship. Both of you were maybe a little too cynical and world weary to believe in happy ever afters. His had manifested in anger, in rage…yours in being ready to flee at any time. Both of you had been on the starting line waiting for that pistol to fire.

But it had only finally imploded because of him.

He continued his slow march to the door, clearing his throat as he looked back at you.

“I meant what I said, every word. I’d do anything to get you back. I’d go at any pace, I’d take whatever you offered – in any form, as long as I’m still in your life in some way. I’d spend the rest of my days apologising if I had to. But honestly, I’d also be happy just to be your friend. Okay? So, you can call me, text me, anytime. Hell, just send me an emoji. Even if you just to talk. Even just to yell at me. I’ll always pick up, I promise”.

He pulled a business card from his wallet and placed it on the desk, “here. Put my number in your new phone when you get one”.

You stayed mute, but your eyes followed his hand as he gently put the card down.

“Will you be okay? For money, I mean?” he asked as his hand rested on the doorhandle, “because I can…”

“I’ll be fine Buck, I always am”.

“Yeah doll, I know”, he said softly.

Neither of you said goodbye. Maybe it was too hard to actually say the word out loud. Speak it into existence and accept its reality. So, he just nodded at you, and you smiled back, and you tried not to think about the tears glistening in his eyes or that painful tugging in your chest.

A few seconds later he was gone, and then it was as if he’d never been there at all.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.

One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.

Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.

“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.

“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.

“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”

By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.

“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”

“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.

“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“

“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.

The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.

“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.

“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“

Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”

“Anytime sweetheart.”

[revelboo]

When You’re Around

IDW Soundwave x Reader- getting caught singing

• There it is again. That soft, haunting sound that freezes Soundwave in his tracks. Every time over the last week that he draws near to the source, it cuts off. The heavy sound of his peds alerting his quarry to his presence every, single time. He prided himself on his composure. Of being the one point of calm reasoning in the storm of tempers and frustration that is the Decepticon base. But this is grating on him, fraying his control.

• Ugh. When you’d cautiously asked if there was anything you could do to be helpful and, more importantly, keep you busy and from your own chaotic thoughts, this wasn’t what you’d had in mind. Elbow deep in a crevice on what you had decided was an alien keyboard, you fished out another basketball sized wad of dirt and debris.

• It’s at least keeping you busy. Because you’re sure you should feel guilty about how comfortable you are among the Decepticons. There has to be something seriously wrong with you, but analyzing yourself can wait.

• The mindless task lets your mind wander, too. Until you’re absently humming as you dig your hands in the seam, before slipping into actually singing snippets of songs just so the big, empty room isn’t so deathly quiet and painfully lonely.

• Moving slowly, Soundwave eases into the open room and there’s the human. Making that sound and completely oblivious to him. It’s amazing that for being so tiny, you’re not more aware of your surroundings. He’s never moved so carefully before. Never had to, but you’ll stop as soon as you know he’s there. You always do.

• You’re not sure what alerts you that something is off. Everything is fine, then the fine hair at your nape is prickling and the primitive part of your mind rings an alarm bell. The song wavers to a halt, hands lifting out of the seam as you pray it’s not Skywarp. Be anyone but Skywarp, because that mech has it out for you. Torturing and messing with you is his favorite pastime and finding you alone? No, thank you.

• A frustrated burst of static laden growl escapes Soundwave as the song stops. That noise startles the human and they rear back, trying to turn around, and fall on their aft. Wide eyes stare up at him in very real fear, before it dulls with relief. It’s not him you’re afraid of and he makes a note to figure out who it is later.

• As soon as you realize it’s Soundwave, you can breathe again. This one doesn’t speak a lot, but you like the weird, tonal quality of his voice when he does, and he’s always so very careful with you. More so than any of the others, but he’s used to little things. Though, the way he’s just staring down at you is a bit unsettling.

• “Hi?” The human’s voice is hesitant as it tips its head up to meet his visor-hidden optics without shying away. Curious, but unafraid.

• And now it’s gone from unsettling to a little anxious thread of unease. He’s not speaking, not moving. Just staring down at you. With that visor and mask, he’s a lot harder to read than most of the other Decepticons. Are you in trouble? You almost flinch as he rumbles softly, the stereo thrum of his voice lifting and falling as he hums a few notes you recognize. He’s… singing?

• Face reddening suddenly, the human’s mouth falls open and shut. Its little heart speeds up, too. It wraps its arms around itself, looking everywhere but at him now. Frustrated, he mimics a few notes again. A little louder. More insistent. Apparently the human can go even redder, it’s chin dipping slightly.

• The first note is wobbly and weak, then the human is singing for him. Still won’t meet his optics, but that’s okay for now. Venting softly, he lets his optics drift closed to just listen. The words don’t matter, he just needs that soft sound to slide over him, chaining him sweetly.

[loveydovey-leviathan]

you pull them by their belt and hold their waist

obey me x gn! reader

warnings: a tiny bit suggestive on asmo's part

.

it’s rather hard to catch lucifer off guard, but congratulations! you succeeded. as he felt you pull his belt and tumbles somewhat gracefully into your arms, he holds onto your shoulders to stabilise himself from the surprise manoeuver. with not an inch of space between the two of you, he gives you a charming smirk- the one he knows you swoon for. “oh?” gently pinch the fat of his waist and pull him into a kiss, it’ll humble him.

mammon yelps as he all but crashes into you, even though you’re sure you didn’t pull that hard. “w-what was that for, huh?!” his face is so close if you so much as squirmed, you would kiss. and fortunately, he does- he’s never been one to stay still for very long. but he holds still as soon as your lips touch his. he hooks his arms around your neck to pull you even closer, and whines when you stop and say that the two of you can’t do this in the hallway.

leviathan lets out a very wobbly sound, and his hands are clamped up against his chest. you’ll have to gently tell him that it’s fine to hold you, and he’ll shakily put his hands on your shoulder. “y-you can’t just do that! give me a week- no, 2 weeks warning before you pull a killer move like this!!” he sounds like he’s complaining but the red on his face and the way he’s trying to hide an embarrassed smile is enough to tell you that he very much enjoys it. give him a kiss on the cheek if you want to, he’ll faint though.

“you..” you know just how to tug at satan’s heartstrings in all the right ways, don’t you? you’re 100% using the fact that he’s an absolute hopeless romantic for things like this to your own benefit, but he can’t get mad. not when he’s enjoying this as much as you are. gently pull him close, place your hand on his cheek and kiss him- maybe even dip him if you can. he’ll be yours forever.

asmodeus lets out the most dramatic gasp, like you ripped off his clothes right then and there when all you did was pull at his belt and hold his waist. he stares at you in shock for 2 seconds before he lets out the cutest giggle and practically throws himself onto you. “oh, dearie~ of course you want to hold me! who wouldn’t?” his arms around your neck pull you closer and he covers you in kisses, and now your face feels sticky from his lip gloss. if you mention it, he’ll invite you over to his room so he could help you wipe it off and spend the rest of the day with him.

beelzebub kind of just looks at you for a while, like he’s still processing what you’re doing. when his brain finally catches up to him and he realises he rather likes this position, he lets out the tiniest “oh..”. if you rub gentle circles into his hip while you hold his waist- he’ll fucking melt. his cheeks heat up and he looks down, he’s kind of embarrassed but he wants you to continue.

belphegor looks at where you’re holding and smiles- and he’s all flustered but he manages to look you in the eyes and tell you he likes it. “don’t worry, you can have me all to yourself. i won’t go anywhere.” he’ll try his best to not fall asleep, but he always wants to close his eyes when you hold him like this. before he knows it, he’s leaning on your shoulder and his head is tucked into the crook of your neck.

diavolo’s eyes widen at the unfamiliar feeling and then lets out one of his booming laughs. his cheeks start to heat up and he’s always surprised when you make him feel this way. “how courageous, my dear.” he’ll expect it to be a one-time thing but he’ll be pleasantly startled if you do it again. and every time, he gives you a light peck on the cheek. his favourite part is always when the position inevitably turns into a very long hug.

barbatos sucks in the smallest gust of air when he feels your hands on his waist, but his face soon turns neutral (though the pink on his cheeks are still there). “you certainly know how to surprise me, love.” his hand is under his chin like he usually does when he’s contemplating something or someone he finds amusing. he might do the same thing to you, but he likes it more when you do it.

you hear the most beautiful, softest gasp you’ve ever heard. simeon has always been breathtaking, but he’s even more so when his hands are delicately placed on your shoulder. he lets out the prettiest laugh you’ve ever heard and moves closer. “hello to you too, dove.” the way he looks at you will never not make your heart melt. it’s soft and sweet with just a hint of guilt and uncertainty- like he’s not sure he should be doing this with you but he will anyway because it makes him happy, and it seems to make you smile as well.

solomon looks at you in shock before he giggles, a sound that’s always been light and comforting. “something wrong, darling?” he teases, but in all honesty- moments like this are the reasons he wakes up in the morning. when he turns around in his bed and sees you sleeping peacefully, he knows he wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world. he could write a book on everything you make him feel, but for now- he relishes in this moment and kisses you like it’s the last time you’ll meet.

honorary mention:

yuki’s usually blank and rather daydreamy stare is gone when they feel a tug on their belt and a hand on their waist, replaced with a look of surprise, but it’s gone in an instant and in its place is content. “do you need something, lovely?” no matter your answer, all they do is give an airy chuckle. they’re known to be patient, but never when it comes to you, so it won’t take long for them to gently place their hand on the back of your neck and pull you closer- only to kiss the corner of your lips.

[jaikoyaki]

Midnight Flight

//Kang Haerin x Reader//Hogwarts AU//

SYPNOSIS: Y/N L/N had just finished her prefect duties and was finally ready to enjoy a quiet night in her dorm, a book in hand and peace at last. That was until she heard an insistent tapping on her window. To her disbelief, there was her girlfriend, Kang Haerin—on a broom, in the dead of night, throwing pebbles at her window.

TAGS: fluff, Slytherin!Haerin, Ravenclaw!Reader, Harry Potter AU, Short oneshot, Prefect!Reader, fem!reader

WARNINGS: mild language, miscommunication (I think)

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k

A/N : Apologies if this feels rushed, this'll be my last one-shot before school starts </3

Flying around the castle in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the smartest idea.

But when was she ever one to play it safe? The broomstick wobbled as she soared higher, the Ravenclaw tower looming ahead.

Her fingers tightened around the broomstick, the chilly night air biting at her face. She knew the risk she was taking—getting caught would mean detention for weeks, maybe even an owl sent home to her parents. But she had come this far, and there was no way she was backing out now.

None of that mattered, Anyways.

What mattered was y/n.

Haerin replayed the events from earlier that day, every detail making her wince. Y/N had called out to her in the Great Hall, but Haerin had been too distracted, too wrapped up in whatever nonsense Hanni was yapping about, to respond properly. She barely even gave Y/N a glance before brushing her off with a vague wave and an “I’ll talk to you later.”

Except “later” never came.

How dumb could she be?

Haerin hadn’t realized the weight of her mistake until hours later,

When Y/N hadn’t even looked her way, her attention buried in her books or something else Haerin couldn’t quite see. It wasn’t like Y/N to ignore her, which could only mean one thing:

She was mad.

She was mad at Haerin.

Her girlfriend was mad at her.

The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet, save for the soft snores of your sleeping roommates and the occasional groan of the old wooden beams.

You lay on your bed, propped up by a stack of pillows, the book Haerin had given you resting open in your hands. The candlelight on your bedside table cast a comfortable glow across the pages, though your eyes kept drifting toward the window.

It had been a long day—prefect duties, patrolling the halls, and trying to keep Peeves from dropping ink pots on unsuspecting first-years. Now, the peace of your dorm room felt like a small slice of heaven.

In your hands was a book Haerin had given you last week. “I think…you’ll love it,” Haerin had said, her words accompanied by one of those smiles that always made your heart flutter. “The main character kind of reminds me of you.”

Your lips twitched at the memory.

You hadn’t had the heart to tell Haerin that you hadn’t gotten past the first few chapters yet. It wasn’t that the book was boring—far from it actually—but between your duties as a prefect and classes, your free time was almost nonexistent.

Speaking of Haerin, you kind of missed your girlfriend right now—

Tap.

The sound snapped you out of your thoughts.

Tap.

You froze, your eyes darting toward the window by your bed.

Tap.

What the hell?

The noise came again, louder this time. Your heart quickened as you set the book aside and scooted closer to the glass. It was too dark to see clearly at first, but then the faint moonlight illuminated a figure hovering just beyond the window.

There she was—your girlfriend.

Haerin.

Outside.

Riding her broom.

In the middle of the night.

Throwing pebbles at your window.

WHAT THE HELL.

Haerin waved awkwardly, holding up another, bigger pebble as if to say, I’ll throw it if you don’t open the window.

You gestured wildly at the window, mouthing:It doesn’t open!

Haerin blinked, then mouthed back, What?

You facepalmed mentally.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, you scribbled in bold letters: THE WINDOW IS FIXED, YOU IDIOT.

Pressing it against the glass, you watched as Haerin squinted to read it. She frowned, then looked around, as if the solution to this problem might magically appear out of the sky. When nothing did, she hesitated before pointing down, mouthing again, Let me in!

You scribbled on the back of the parchment: HEAD GIRL IS PATROLLING THE COMMON ROOM.

You pressed it against the glass again, trying not to panic.

Shit.

Your mind raced. Getting caught sneaking someone into the Ravenclaw dormitory would mean losing your prefect badge and probably facing suspension. But there was no way you were leaving her out there to become a popsicle.

After one last exasperated glance, you pointed toward the rooftop.

Haerin blinked a few times, processing, then nodded and directed her broom toward the rooftop.

With a sigh, you quickly grabbed your robe and scarf, wrapping it around your neck, and slipped on your slippers.

“Are you okay? What the hell were you thinking?!” you whisper-yelled, spotting Haerin’s flushed cheeks and red nose. The cold had clearly gotten to her—she was only wearing her Slytherin sweater and a skirt. Without hesitation, you wrapped your robe and scarf around her.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, pulling the scarf tighter around herself. “I just… needed to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? On a broom? You know you could have just waited until tomorrow, right? How- how did you even sneak out?? You could’ve fallen! Do you even realize how dangerous that was? ” You couldn’t stop the questions spilling out of your mouth, your worry overpowering your ability to keep your voice calm.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.

“For what?” you asked, momentarily thrown off. “I’m not mad at you, Haerin. I’m just worried. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt—”

“No- no.” Haerin interrupted, cutting you off. She suddenly hugged you, burying her face in your shoulder.

This was the first time she had hugged you without you initiating it.

“You're mad at me.”

You froze for a moment, surprised, but your arms instinctively wrapped around her. “What’s going on, Haerin?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” she whispered into your shoulder.

“What?”

“I—I messed up today. I was so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t even listen to you. You called out to me, and I just… I brushed you off. I was too busy. And I… I didn’t even notice you were mad.”

oh.

You blinked, feeling a wave of realization hit you.

“Why are you laughing…?” she pulled away slightly to meet your eyes.

“You dummy,” you giggled, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t mad at you. I figured you were just busy. You didn’t ignore me on purpose, and I knew that.”

Haerin blinked, her lips parting slightly as if she didn’t quite believe you. But then she let out a shaky breath and hugged you again, tighter this time. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

The moment might have lasted longer if not for the creak of a door opening nearby. Your heart stopped as a familiar voice called out.

“Who’s there?”

Minji. The head girl.

Panic flared in your chest.

Quick, think of an excuse, Y/N.

You scrambled to pull the cloak over Haerin’s head, tugging it down just as Minji’s silhouette emerged from the shadows.

“It’s Y/N!” you called out, your voice just a bit too cheerful.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

You quickly placed a steadying hand on Haerin’s cloaked shoulder. “Just escorting a first-year back to the dorms,” you blurted, forcing a smile.

Minji emerged from the shadows, her sharp gaze narrowing. “First-years? At this hour?”

“Yeah, they got lost on their way back from the Astronomy Tower.” You gave a nervous chuckle, gripping Haerin’s shoulder to keep her from fidgeting.

“First years,” you added with a nervous chuckle. “Always wandering where they shouldn’t be.”

Minji crossed her arms, her piercing gaze flicking between you and the cloaked Haerin. For a moment, it felt like she might press further. But then she sighed, rubbing her temple. “Fine, but make it quick. It’s past curfew.”

As soon as she disappeared, you turned to Haerin with a glare. “You’re not flying back,” you hissed. “We’re taking the hidden tunnels. Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

Join the Taglist: @arihiu @silvvrenn @fruityg0rl

@keiji-jin @hazel-tanthamore22

[themultifanshipper]

Hiiiii ❤️ Could you please write something driverxreader (I’m partial to Carlos but it can be any other you thinks fits the prompt):

Reader wants to surprise him and set a really sexy mood but when he comes home he’s not in the mood (bad race/shitty offers or whatever). So the kick is that he tries to pretend he is into it because all his exes have sort of pushed the “driver’s stamina is endless and men are always on the mood” stereotype and he feels pressured to perform. Reader notices and ends in some sort of fluffy conversation about enthusiastic consent needed from both parts.

IDK if that makes sense but if it does I’m sure you’ll do something amazing with it.

Luv ya! Bye ✌🏽

The race had not gone well for Carlos. A DNF was always hard to take, and you were determined to make him feel better, by any means necessary.

Warnings: Issues around consent, discussing consent, bit angsty, then fluffy, then goes completely unhinged, I'm talking breeding kink, I'm talking getting pinned down and RAILED and BRED (this fic is a roller coaster ngl), mention of pregnancy, cream pie, cum, spit, my disgusting kinks are exposed here (but the smut is at the end so you can stop after the fluffy bit)

You'd set up the apartment perfectly, scented candles, flowers, the works. You'd even made his favourite cookies, having got the recipe from his mother the week before.

So when he walked in all sulky you took the liberty of removing his coat and wrapping your arms around him, kissing him sweetly to welcome him home.

He hummed contentedly as the smell of the cookies invaded his senses and he gasped.

“You didn't! My favourite?” his eyes shone with affection as you nodded.

He took as step towards the kitchen, to follow the alluring smell, but you stopped him with an arm around his waist.

“There will be plenty of time for cookies after” you purred.

“After what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Come with me” you said mysteriously as you led him though the corridor into the bedroom.

This was the thing with Carlos, he was insatiable (he was a rich hot competitive man, after all) and you’d come to find that you could fix anything with sex.

Bad race? Sex. Problems with the team? Sex. Bad football results? Sex. Bad weather? Sex.

He was always up for it, you were always up for it, so you dragged him to the bedroom, where you'd set up a few candles to set the mood, and sat him down on the edge of the bed.

You climbed onto his lap, his hands naturally coming to wrap around you as you kissed him deeply.

He sighed into the kiss and you took the opportunity to wrap your fingers into his hair and pull, earning a grunt from him.

“I'm sorry about your race baby” you said sensually, pushing him down to lay on the bed. “Let me make you feel better”

You leant down and kissed along his neck, where you knew he was sensitive, and you gently ground your hips down, making him gasp and let out a low moan.

He lifted himself up enough for you to take his shirt off, as your mouth went lower. His nipples were one of his most sensitive spots, the lightest of touches usually getting him desperate and needy, but all your tongue managed to elicit was a light hiss.

His hand came up to cup the back of your head to keep you there though, so you took that as a good sign.

“Does that feel good, baby?” you asked, and he nodded, eyes closed.

“Want me to go lower?” He licked his lips before answering the most noncommital ‘yes' you'd ever heard.

He was probably a bit too in his head, so your hand went to slip inside his pants.

And that's when you realised… he wasn't even half hard.

Carlos would normally be dripping and begging by now.

“Baby?” his eyes were still screwed shut, and there was a slight wobble in his lower lip as he answered.

“You can keep going…” his voice was so low you barely heard him.

“Carlos look at me” it was an order, your voice taking on the serious tone that Carlos knew meant business.

He looked down at you with unshed tears in his eyes. “I'm sorry”

The tremor in his voice broke your heart and you immediately stood up and pulled him upright in a sitting position, with you standing between his legs.

“Don't you dare apologise! What's wrong, baby?” you held his face in your hands as he bit his lip, obviously uncomfortable about something. “Did I do something wrong Carlos?”

He shook his head.

“Then tell me, what is it? I need you to tell me what's wrong”

He sighed.

“I just don't want to disappoint you. You made all this effort for me…”

You shushed him by kissing him quickly.

“Baby you can't disappoint me. Why would you think that?”

He sniffled. “Because I am not in the mood but I am supposed to be able to provide your pleasure, no? I’m sorry for ruining your plan”

“Baby there's nothing wrong with not being in the mood. I just assumed you would be because it's what we always do after a bad race, I shouldn't have assumed”

“It's not your fault, my ex always used to say that men are always horny and usually that is true but today I just feel like a failure, and now I've failed you as well by not being what you wanted…”

“Carlos you haven't failed me, I love you! Sex isn't important enough to ruin that. If anything it's my fault, I pushed you even though you didn't want to. I'm sorry.”

“No, no! It's my fault. I didn't say no, you couldn't have known!”

You cringed at his words. That's not how consent works.

"I hate everything about that sentence. You shouldn't have to say no. I should have read the signs better, baby…”

“But if I had said no we wou-”

“Carlos!” he stopped and looked at you. “We can argue all day about who's fault it is. The point is I never want you to feel pressured into anything, and let's agree that we always need enthusiastic consent going forward, okay?”

He nodded and pulled you in for a hug, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “Thank you”

“I love you Carlos”

You two stayed like that, cradling each other for what felt like hours, your hand running up and down his back soothingly.

When his heartbeat felt normal again, he mumbled into your skin.

“Can we have cookies, now?”

You giggled, looking down at him as he smiled up at you.

“Of course we can, baby”

You pecked him on the lips before taking his hand in yours and leading him to the kitchen, where his favourite snack lay waiting in the tray.

By the time you'd finished the cookies (and a cheeky glass of wine) it was getting late, so you decided to call it a night.

What you hadn't realised, is that your attentiveness to his needs and you baking his mothers recipe made him earth-shatteringly horny.

So as he crawled into bed behind you, you felt him against your ass and you smirked.

“Do you want to fuck me now, baby?”

He growled into your hair as his hips rolled into yours without him even realising.

“More than anything I have ever wanted in my life”

You giggled and he rolled you onto your front, looming over you like a predator as he pinned you down with his thighs either side of yours.

“And you? Do you want me to fuck you?”

You nodded.

“I need your words, hermosa, like we said” his lips came down to your neck and trailed kisses up to your ear.

“Yes Carlos, please.” You gasped as he shifted his hips to grind into you harder, the friction driving you insane and the feeling of being unable to move as he had his way with you turning you on more than you would admit out loud.

“You can do better than that, mi amor, beg for me…” he whispered, his hands going to grab a pillow to prop your hips up a bit. “tell me how much you want me”

“Carlos, please. I need you to fuck me, I need your cock inside me, please!”

He growled, and ripped your underwear off in one go, hands immediately going down to spread your cheeks, exposing how wet you had gotten so embarrasingly quickly.

He trailed a line of spit down to where you needed him most, the feeling making you shiver, and he wasted no time dipping two fingers in down to the knuckle.

The stretch was incredible, and the angle meant he didn't need to search long to find the spot that made your eyes roll back in pleasure.

You vaguely registered the sound of the bedside drawer opening and closing “We don't have any condoms left, hermosa”

You were about to cry, the pleasure so good you didn't want to stop now. But Carlos suddenly had an idea.

He leaned over you plastering his body over yours, and slid his cock between your thighs, his tip knocking against your clit every time he thrusted forwards. It wasn't perfect but it was certainly hot as fuck as you felt like horny teenagers again, rutting against each other mindlessly.

His cock kept catching against your entrance, threatening to slip in at any moment, as you trembled beneath him.

“Carlos please, just fuck me!” you gasped as his pace increased with his desperation.

“Even without a condom?” he asked, pace faltering slightly at the idea of taking you bare.

“Want you to fill me up, Carlos. Make me yours”

His resolve… well it didn't even make an appearance, as he leaned back and positioned his tip at your entrance, dipping it in teasingly.

“tell me again” he growled.

“Come inside me, please. Fill me up, I want to be full of you”

He wasted no time slamming into you, the thought of your walls, tight and wet around his cock much too enticing to wait any longer.

He stayed there, throbbing inside you at the feeling of finally getting to have you like this for the first time in your relationship.

It was almost overwhelming when he hooked an arm under your hips and started grinding his cock into you, hitting all your sweet spots as you moaned wantonly.

“You want me to fill you up? Come so deep inside you, fuck-” he hips involuntarily slammed into yours.

You moaned “Yes Carlos! I want you to fill me up until I can't take it anymore-”

His hips slammed into you again with more force, chest coming to lay against your back to pin you down with his weight as he pounded into you.

“Look at you, so submissive for me. Want me to breed you? I bet it would only take one try”

His hips moved at an inhuman pace as your hands reached out for something, anything to hold on to.

The idea of the man you loved getting you pregnant made you a bit feral, and you felt yourself nearing the edge the more he spoke.

“Going to fill you up so much my cum will be dripping out of you, hermosa. Do you want me to make you a mother? Keep you full of me all the time?”

“Yes! Yes Carlos! I'm gonna come. I'm- shit!”

“Come for me baby, milk my cock, that's my good girl…”

You saw white when you came, squeezing around Carlos as your body went completely pliant under him.

The feeling of you pulsing around his cock was enough for Carlos to come inside you with a shout, filling you up like he promised.

Your legs felt like jelly, and Carlos didn't feel like pulling out at all, so you stayed like that, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“I was serious by the way…” you started.

Carlos hummed questionningly.

“About… you know. Trying…”

You felt Carlos' body tense above yours.

“You want to… try?”

“Mhmm” you nodded shyly.

“Fuck” He sat up and pulled out of you gently, turning you over and bending your legs.

He stared at the way his cum started dripping out of you, the sight so lewd he had to close his eyes to keep from going insane.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“Give me a minute and i'll fill you up again” he looked at you, and his eyes were so dark you gasped, a spark of arousal running through you at the sight.

“And i'll fill you up as many times as it takes”

Tears started welling up in your eyes. This was it. You and Carlos were going to be parents.

Carlos was hard again, and the fact that this made him so unhinged made you clench, and more cum dribbled out of you, making Carlos moan at the sight.

He tapped his cock on your clit a couple of times, then slid in to the hilt.

You sighed, his cock filling you so perfectly, and he started a bruising pace, laser focused on the wetness between your legs.

He was a man on a mission. And boy, did he deliver.

[chlorinecake]

“convenient chances” 🎱

summary: Your obsessive ex-boyfriend Jay Park goes to extreme measures to ensure that you submit to his ruthless control, and with your body weakening with each pitiful day that passes, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to put up a fight…

pairing: Stalker! Yandere! Enhypen x Fem! Reader

contains: Suggestive, Non-con Kissing and Touching, Degrading Nicknames (crybaby, play thing, etc), Mentions of Self-harm and Other Violent Themes, Heavy Angst

word count: 5.3k -> previously . . .

YOUR BODY WAS fully awake, but your mind needed a moment to catch up.

The feeling of moist soil on your scalp somehow helped to comfort your body’s soreness as you laid down in the shallow ditch of dirt which was inevitably dubbed as your bed last night…

You could hardly push past the pain in your tired eyes, having cried yourself to sleep and back awake more times than you could count while meddling about with only one emotion coursing through your starved out veins:

Despair.

Not in the sense that you were ready to forfeit your role in this one against seven battle, but you worried your body could only take so much more of their combined insanity before giving up…

Just to let Jay claim you as his noble prize in this one-sided race for a twisted love—

Pat, pat, pat.

Your ears keened in on the sounds of nature surrounding you, eyes lazily opening up again as sprinkles of dry earth kissed your forehead, followed by more pats from above.

But the pats came with friends, the sounds now becoming more layered, louder as they approached the rim of the steep hole.

It was them.

The six goons, excluding their crookedly righteous leader who to this day leaves you baffled as to why you even dated him in the first place.

If only he wasn’t so good at pretending…

Pretending like everything was normal and that your past relationship with him was somehow reconcilable.

Your vision was still a bit cloudy given the poor lighting provided by the hardly risen sun and surrounding forestry, however you could still make out each boy's face as they stared back down at you. Jake, the nicer one, slowly guided a rope down to meet you.

“Can’t imagine you got much sleep down there, did ya’ cutie?” Heeseung’s voice started, stinging your soul like venom as he cooed at you with pouty lips from above, “don’t worry, I’ll give you a good morning kiss once we get you outta there…”

What a raging creep.

“This isn’t gonna be easy, but the only way to get you back up here is if you climb…”

Wow. He almost sounded like he cared about you when he said that.

Almost...

“C’mon, we threw you in a ditch, not a fucking volcano,” the tallest one grumbled impatiently, annoyed by your seemingly feeble demeanor.

“Niki,” Sunghoon scolded sternly, the younger boy shrugging in defense, “don't encourage her to resist us, alright?”

Jay must've been too busy to come and get you himself today, given all the work obligations and tasks he had lined up for the week.

So unfortunately, as if your luck could get any worse, you'd have to deal with his violent clan of minions until he got back.

Jake gave the rope a little shake to draw your attention back to it, your eyes having wandered off for a second in thought.

These boys were capable of the darkest evil's, but you knew it'd be better to comply than give 'em a hard time right now.

“Atta girl,” Jake smiled, watching as you stood up on wobbly legs before making your way to the dangling rope, “take your time coming up...”

Someway, somehow, you managed to climb up the rope, despite the dizziness clouding your mind on the way there.

Jungwon greeted you with a half-friendly expression, pulling you out of the ditch the rest of the way with a strong hand.

You honestly struggled a bit to stand up properly on your own, given how long your legs had been idle for, so Heeseung took it upon himself to carry you.

All the way to the nearby van, whose black exterior sent chills down your spine, despite how inviting the morning sunrise looked while casting upon it.

“Look at you,” Heeseung cooed, eyes scanning the fresh scar tracing the back of your hand as you clung to his shoulder for support, “so vulnerable and fragile...”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the flesh there, but you couldn't be bothered to pull away from him, thinking in your mind that you had to seem submissive.

You had to escape.

And tricking them seemed to be one of the few options you had left, especially with Mandy out of the picture.

Yes, you felt weak, but nowhere near as much as you were gonna pretend to be.

You were always a fighter, and you didn't plan to give up just yet, no matter how many times you'd have to get up just to fall back down again.

Sunoo held the car door open for Heeseung to help you get in, the rest of the boys already loading themselves into the vehicle at either side.

The sound of dirt stalling the trucks tires filled your ears before Sunghoon slammed his foot on the gas, forcing the car out of its mossy patch.

The trail back up was rocky, which made Niki reach an arm over to keep you in place as you kept wobbling in your seat.

You knew it wasn't because he actually cared for your safety, especially not with the bitter look plastered over his features.

“Since when did you get employed as a human seatbelt?” Jungwon asked with furrowed eyes, confused by Niki's behavior.

“Just trying to keep Jay's play thing safe,” he smiled facetiously, just as his eyes turned up to a tear in the roof, or more accurately, an empty slot where a seatbelt once was… “since you overgrown fuck-nuts like horsing around in here...”

BY NOW, THE car drive was nearing its end, human civilization barely coming into view through the dark tinted windows.

Sunghoon's eyes were trained on the road ahead as he started to speak, “So... we don't have many options for breakfast, but given how hungry you are, I'm sure you won't be picky...”

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby fast-food restaurant, the scent of deep-fried breakfast foods infiltrating the cold air behind the truck windows.

Meanwhile, your mind was stuck on Niki's mentioning of the broken seatbelt earlier, simply because no seatbelt meant no restraints, and ultimately, nothing was holding you back.

Truly, what you were plotting to do next was quite obviously a very bad idea... but, with the little strength you had left, you decided to push through anyways.

Literally.

Slam.

You pushed passed Niki and slung open the car door, slamming it behind you just as Niki’s hand barely grazed your arm, cursing to himself as you took off into the morning fog.

Thud, thud, thud.

Your sneaker-clad feet hit the pavement with harsh steps as you ran off into the opposite direction of the boys, treading as far as your dry bones could take you.

With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest and your eyes glued straight ahead, you knew looking back would only slow you down.

That’s when you noticed the parking lot was completely empty, which meant that no bystanders were present once Heeseung’s long legs eventually caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to halt your tracks, right before leaving a slap clean across your face.

You fell to the ground, scuffing your elbow in the collision with a now busted-lip complimenting your dark under eyes.

“Pretty energetic to say you’re running on an empty stomach, aren't you, baby face?” He pressed with aggression, taking your jaw in his fierce grip to make you look up at him, “What? Too scared to talk now that I’m being rough with you?”

All you did was wince at his words, the adrenaline boiling in your chest only increasing with fear as the rest of the goof-troop approached the scene.

“Aww… you scared her into silence,” Sunghoon pouted while kneeling down to meet where you sat, “what’re we gonna tell Jay about her sudden case of muteness, Heeseung?”

“Hmm... I can think of plenty ways to force some pretty sounds out of that mouth of hers,” the eldest grinned, releasing your chin only to grip your hair this time, pulling you back with force.

“Ahckk,” you groaned in pain, gripping his arm in an attempt to keep your sounds in, but he was already snickering at you, noticing the rosy red bruise raising to your skin from how hard he slapped you earlier.

“Oh?” he cooed, tilting his head as he spoke… “I didn’t mean to hurt you, ____,” he whispered sarcastically before his lips met the sore part of your face...

“Let me make it feel better.”

Heeseung's lips moved lower down your neck as his grip on you only tightened, his rough teeth grazing the surface of your skin before pinching down on it, all while the most satisfying smirk stained his features.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, a voice in your head reminded as your brain returned to reality, brushing off the wild scenario you'd just came up with.

“That’ll be it, thank you,” Jungwon said to the lady over the drive-thru speaker as Sunghoon pulled up to the next window.

“What’s on your mind?” Niki asked, noticing the way you became quiet all of a sudden, your previously shaky breaths settling to a near inaudible decibel.

“N-nothing… just a little tired I guess,” you stuttered, not meeting his nightmare-like eyes to which only made him hum in response.

“Welp, I hope you like coffee, because Jay has something special planned for you two later, and you wouldn’t wanna show up all drowsy like this...”

You had known Jay long enough by now to know that something special was code for a disaster in the making—

“____ loves coffee,” Sunoo blurted out in a nonchalant tone, “I used to buy her five cans every weekday from the convenience store to keep her stocked for the whole work week...”

Until I switched to banana milk, you thought to yourself, a tiny smile rising to your features at the wholesome memory.

Sunoo’s gentle voice trailed off as he hung his head low, the boys looking at him in confusion at his sudden comment.

You sulked quietly; Sunoo had became so cold towards you since the day you scolded him after he betrayed your friendship for Jay... so much had happened since then that you almost forgot how close you and Sunoo used to be before all this…

“God, I don’t know why I even said that,” he cursed himself with a sigh, looking out the window to avoid their judgmental looks.

“It’s uh… it’s fine buddy, just… pass me us a twenty please,” Heeseung continued, Sunoo pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to Jake to pay for the food.

“Have a good day,” the cashier said with a forcefully chipper voice, Sunghoon already driving off as her final words were cut off by the sound of the truck engine.

He took another short path that led to a gas station nearby, letting Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, and himself take you inside the corner-store to eat while the rest stayed back to pump gas and shit-talk.

The shop resembled one you might see in an apocalyptic video game, the food-stained tables and flickering ceiling lights only adding to the unsettling aura.

That's when the wall-mounted TV, just a few inches beside the glass entry doors, broadcasted a live news report featuring a woman by the name of Mandy Reeves.

You felt part of your soul descend at the mere mentioning of her name as the scratchy-voiced newswoman began to report from the speakers...

“62 year old Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store worker Mandy Reeves was reportedly found tied up with a rope and non-responsive in the establishment’s storage room around midnight. While Ms. Reeves is in better condition now, authorities have concluded that this attack was from within. Here’s what Mandy had to say concerning the incident.”

“Oh my God,” you said louder than necessary, eyes wanting to brim with tears until you noticed the equally worried looks on the four boy's faces, but of course, the five of you had pretty different reasons for looking that way.

“This is Sydney Baker with ENN News… Ms. Reeves, can you please share an account of what you remember most from your attack last night?” the reporter interrogated with a fat microphone in her hand.

From what you could tell, Mandy still seemed pretty shaken up about what happened, even from the blurry TV screen.

You couldn't help but feel guilty after sending her through all that, knowing she was the type of person to stand up for someone even if it meant she'd end up getting hurt, too.

“I… all I remember was a bunch of boys… T-too many of them to count, but they all looked like trouble from the moment they walked in the store,” Mandy stuttered before the camera, eyes wandering all over the place with her gray mane an utter mess on her head.

“And what did you say about another girl earlier? Did she assist the attackers?” The reporter asked back.

“NO! No, not at all... she was the one in danger! I... I-I can’t remember her name, but she’s a good friend to me… always stopped ‘round the shop at night… treated me like I was her own mother…”

“But the attackers, ma’am. Are you genuinely sure this wasn’t some kind of set up?”

“One of those buck-crazy hooligans were in an abusive relationship with her! His name was… Jay… s-something like that… he must’ve built up some kinda gang to get her back.”

“Ma’am, you said earlier that your memory is a bit foggy… are you certain the information you’re sharing with us is accurate?”

“Yes, this all happened before they jumped me… that girl… she’s been hiding from him for over four months now I believe… my guess is that he finally caught up to her... I went to call the police and—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Mandy, but we’re running low on time… once again this is Sydney Baker reporting live from Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store. Back to you, James...”

The reporters voice faded into the background as Niki and Jungwon made direct eye contact with each other, looking at Sunoo next who sat with a worried expression on his face.

“That old fucking bitch-”

“Niki, chill out, alright?” Jungwon interrupted, standing up from the table to gather your food and trash.

“Hey, I was still eating that,” you complained, taking one last sip of your drink before he snatched that from you too.

“Tough because we’re leaving,” Sunghoon said sternly before aggressively hooking your arms in his, despite how gentle he wanted it to seem to anyone looking.

“She thinks this shit is funny,” Niki scoffed, opening the gas station door for Sunghoon to lead you back to the car, “just look at the way she’s beaming right now…”

“My 'beaming' has nothing to do with you assholes getting busted for not covering your tracks properly, but everything to do with your actual response to the news,” you corrected, feet struggling to keep up with Sunghoon’s fast-paced walking as his hold on your arm fastened, “you all should be scared...”

“Interesting comment coming from you,” Jungwon retorted, right before calling out to his hyung’s ahead of him, “we gotta get her outta here as soon as possible.”

“What happened?” Heeseung asked first, considering how fast you guys came back.

Jake had just finished pumping the gas when you all reached the car, disgruntled looks on the three boy's faces as Sunghoon began to explain what happened.

“We were on TV,” Sunghoon said, opening the back door of the truck and practically shoving you in, “that old chick gave the cops a name, too…”

Heeseung's eyebrows furrowed at his friends words, “I... I don’t understand, what’re you guys saying?”

“We don’t know much yet, but someone found Mandy last night and she spilled as many beans as she possibly could,” Niki spat somewhere in between, all of them getting in their respective seats as Jake caught on to the dilemma a little sooner than Heeseung did, “we’re fucked.”

Slamming his foot on the gas, the vehicle took off out of the parking lot, the entire vibe somehow feeling much darker than before now that they were potentially being man-hunted.

“Whose name did she drop?” Jake asked angrily over the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the intense grip.

The boys fell quiet, Heeseung being equally confused and curious as they sat with clenched jaws, body’s rocking a bit with the car's bolstering drifts as you decided to speak up on their silent behalves.

“Jay,” you started, voice like a single note of a piano that rung strong in their headspace as chills ran down their tensed backs… “she mentioned Jay...”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before the sleek black van pulled up into Jay’s driveway, a feeling of shock and gratefulness washing over you at the fact that the boys didn’t take a pit-stop at the “classroom” to teach you any lessons.

“Get her out,” Jake practically barked, Niki almost instantly grabbing your arm at his hyung’s words.

“Isn’t Jay still at work?” You asked somehow in between all the action, Sunghoon having opened the car door to your right and grabbing your other arm, too.

“Yes,” Sunghoon sighed, not even meeting your face as he spoke, “but he’ll be here shortly—”

“I’ll put in a tip that the crybaby missed him very much,” Niki added, speeding up his footsteps until you all reached the tall, mahogany front door, the simple sight of it bringing back one too many memories you wished you could forget now…

Memories of when you loved Jay sincerely, and he loved you… memories of when he used to never put you in harms way… memories of when you were able to look him in his handsome face without gritting your teeth with rage—

Click.

Jungwon unlocked the door with a spare key that was so conveniently placed beneath the front porch statue of an eagle.

Sunghoon and Niki let your arms free in unison, a tingly sensation running up and down the length of your limbs thanks to the force they initially applied.

The four of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, up until you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

“Make yourself at home, ____,” Heeseung began, startling you from behind as your mind became aware of his daunting frame behind you, “and make it quick before a bug flies in, please…”

“O-oh,” you stammered, taking a few rushed steps until you made it all the way inside, the flashy interior of Jay’s home somehow widening your tired eyes.

The sound of Jake’s boots traveled somewhere behind you, his arms being filled with a black dress, pair of heels, and velvet jewelry bag.

“For you, if it wasn’t obvious,” he said plainly, facial features as blank as a fresh canvas.

“Jay wants you to shower before he comes back… and also,” he paused for a second, handing you the items he held before his hand snagged at the rubber band holding up his man-bun and passing it to you, “try to make yourself look nice, alright?”

. . .

Twist.

The faucet creaked slightly as you hopped into the shower, it’s stream of warm water soothing your grimy skin.

You took a moment to let the water moisten your entire body from head to toe before reaching for the loofa and bottle of soap, sudsing up the product before lathering it in.

The tiny pool of water around your feet was muggy and dark, reminding you of just how dirty you had been the whole day, even though it didn’t really bother you after a while.

Twist.

You turned the faucet off, guiding your freshly shampooed hair into a towel while you dried off your body, stepping out of the tub with dry feet to avoid making a mess of things.

The house had become so quiet that even the water trickling down the drain sounded loud.

Pumping a few squirts of lotion into your palm, you massaged it into your thirsty skin, just as your eyes caught sight of the pink razor sitting idly on the counter.

It’s set of three silvery blades shined eerily beneath the overhead ceiling lights, especially against the foggy bathroom mirror.

That’s crazy, your mind internally scolded itself, even though the razor was already in your hand by now.

It’s not even worth it, you heard another voice say, but this time, in an almost daring tone.

Your eyes narrowed in on the squiggly train of green and blue veins decorating your delicate wrist.

You felt your heart start to throb the longer you stared, not out of nervousness, because your heart beat was relaxed in this moment, but out of pain from the sharp sensation that traveled to your finger tips, a stream of dark, rich red trailing down your forearm and dripping onto your bath towel.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, you almost done in there or what?” Heeseung’s voice asked from behind the door, your mind just now realizing that the razor was still inches away from you, resting in its initial spot.

No blood.

No pain.

Just your head playing tricks on you again—

“Uh… y-yeah, just gimme a sec.” You stalled, hand almost instantly grabbing the black dress from its clothes-hanger and sliding it up your hips.

Heeseung still stood behind the door, very aware of the fact that you weren’t even close to being ready… regardless of this, he turned on the heel of his boot and called out, “She’s almost ready, Jay!” indirectly letting you know to hurry the fuck up in there.

“How does she look for me?” You assumed Jay asked from outside, given that Heeseung responded with a cheesy “absolutely beautiful.”

Jay made his way into the room, knocking gently on the bathroom door... not peeking, just listening to your soft yet nervous breathing, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay love?...”

You didn’t answer, but instead, fastening the zipper on the side of your dress, clipping in the crystal earrings, silver necklace, and two beaded bracelets for either wrist while double checking yourself in the mirror.

That's when you heard Heeseung’s footsteps walk away with Jay’s, just as a new set followed right after.

“It’s me, ____,” Sunoo’s voice began, “can I come in for a sec?”

Once again, you didn't answer, only letting an exasperated huff fall from your lips as you looked into the mirror, the act of trying to style your slippery wet hair with Jake's flimsy hair-tie only adding to your stress…

“I know I'm probably one of the last people you wanna talk to right now, but I can help you,” he continued, part of you wishing he meant 'help you escape'—

Click.

You unlocked the door knob with a creak, the misty bathroom air hitting Sunoo’s dewy skin as he walked in, directing his hand out as a sign for you to sit on the toilet.

“Close your eyes for me,” he said, pulling out a tube of mascara to apply to your lashes.

“Thank you,” you meant to say, but you were interrupted by his voice saying, “I'm sorry” first...

“Sun, can we please not do this right now?” You sighed, an apology from anyone being the last thing on your mind right now.

Sunoo’s chest raised with an anxious exhale before he let the air out through his nose as he whispered the words, “I had to say it ____… It hurts me, y'know?... seeing you like this... seeing what I helped them all do to you...”

An unsettling silence swarmed between you two before the sad-eyed boy reached in his pocket, pulling out a blush compact to apply a bit of hue to the apple of your cheeks with his fingers.

He then pulled a few hairs out from your head, trying to emphasis your natural beauty instead of stressing over a specific style.

“We won't be toying around with this, by the way,” he smiled softly, taking the rubber band from your hand and tossing it into the bin beside you.

You let yourself chuckle a bit at his actions, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made you feel good…

It was the kind of laughter that you have with a friend in grade-school while sitting in detention, waiting for your angry parent to come and pick you up for a good scolding—

“So,” he started, placing his hands at your shoulders as you stood up from the toilet, looking at yourself in the mirror, “what do you think?”

Looking back at your reflection, all you could do was smile softly, not for genuine purposes, but for Sunoo’s sake, a familiar smile spreading across his face too at your appearance.

“You're welcome, then,” he meant to say, but you interrupted him first by turning around, wrapping your arms around his waist and whispering a cracky “I forgive you...” against his chest...

BY NOW, SUNOO had left you alone to gather your emotions for a few more minutes before coming down.

He told you a series of simple steps to follow once you'd leave the bathroom:

1. Walk down the staircase.

2. Greet Jay with a smile, either fake or genuine.

3. Don't do anything stupid.

The hardest of these steps? All three if you were being completely honest... but by now, you had already completed 1% of step one, your nervous legs standing still and firm at the very top of the staircase as Jay's voice called out to you.

“My love, what's the delay for?” You heard Jay ask from the bottom, not being able to see you given the way the stairwell curved, “I'm ready to see you...” he went on...

The gall of this man... to demand your presence like he had a right to it or something... this whole thing was just so... dehumanizing.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this Jay,” you blurted out, letting your first mind speak before you could even rationalize a more suitable reply... before you could even take your next step down the staircase...

“I'm giving you an opportunity to cooperate by your own persuasion, ____... please don't abuse it,” he warned coldly, resting his hand on the staff like structure of the staircase as he kept envisioning you coming down the steps, almost as if his thoughts could manifest it happening...

“You're not even listening to me, ____,” you scoffed, thinking back in your head how this clown-show would've been avoided if you actually just picked up that damned razo-

“That's nonsense, and you know it, ____... I understand that you're stressed, but please-”

“No, Jay, because that's the thing,” you interrupted with a raised voice, “you don't understand a damn thing about what I've been going through, all at the hands of you and those strange boys you puppet around...”

“Baby, I get that this is a difficult situation, but I'm trying my very best to make this work,” he pleaded, looking at top the stairs as if you could somehow see his forlorn face.

By now, you had already skipped step 2 and entirely ignored step 3-

“Well, pardon me for adding to the difficulties, but fuck your efforts,” you spat, kicking off the heels you wore and tossing them beside you with a loud clatter, “they've only been out of vanity this whole time anyway...”

Anyway...

The word echoed within your soul, right before it became like wind in your ears...

Your heart skipped a few beats as you suddenly felt like you were falling, both down with gravity and out of the world at the same time, eyes widening with the gasp that escaped your tightening throat.

The feeling of forceful hands left your back, your feet tripping over your steps as you whipped your head to see who pushed you, the whole moment occurring in slow-motion as your eyes met Niki's piercing ones, his large hand waving facetiously at you as you continued to tumble down the staircase.

Your back hit the final step with a loud crack, your consciousness leaving you instantly as your now sleeping face met Jay's, and even though you couldn't see it, his eyes filled with utter terror, boot-clad feet running towards your feeble body.

His words came out like confused soup, but each sentence was something along the lines of 'don’t leave me like this.'

“She brought this upon herself, hyung,” Niki announced shamelessly, coming down the staircase in harsh, slow steps as the shadow of a menacing smirk remained clear on his face, “just let her go...”

Jay looked up at Niki with tears in his eyes. “You idiot!” was all he yelled before scooping you up in his arms, Heeseung running over from the kitchen to see what happened from the noise.

“Oh my God,” Heeseung gasped, running to take you from Jay's hold only for his hand to be swatted away with a nonverbal 'I can handle her,' on his behalf.

“Just open the door... I have to get her outta here,” Jay's voice bit back, trying to stop himself from breaking down at the sudden course of events.

“If she doesn't wake back up soon, promise me that the five of you will make sure that Niki doesn't live to see another day...”

YOUR EYES CRACKED open slowly like rusty door hinges, a throbbing sensation from your head being the first thing you noticed upon waking up.

And the second sensation? Well, it was the tingly feeling running up and down your back, extending all the way into your tied up wrists.

If you didn't remember falling down the stairs before, you definitely remembered it now as you felt a bit of blood drip from the poorly bandaged cut in your brow, your entire being physically cringing at the memory.

Step, step.

Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, only to find Jay waltzing around in an idle circle around the room.

Or more specifically, the classroom...

You're not sure why he decided to bring you here instead of a proper hospital to be checked out, but then again, you didn't really understand anything that Jay did.

Like for instance, why he decided to tie you up in a basement like a criminal within minutes of you literally flying down his staircase-

“Where’s Sunoo?” You began upon making eye contact with Jay, not giving him the chance to start a conversation first.

There was an awkward pause before he finally responded with a blunt, “What’s it matter to you, anyways?… He hated you with every bone in his pathetic body...”

“That's a lie!” You barked back, surprised by your own intensity.

And God, yelling at him only made your head hurt even more.

Jay scanned your bruised face for a moment, communicating to you with his eyes that it’d be best to watch your mouth from here on out considering how it landed you at the bottom of a staircase not too long ago.

His eyes then fell to the sight of your arms that were tied securely behind your back and to the chair post, all by the likes of Heeseung.

You were already treading on thin ice here, so you knew that if you were to say anything at all, it would have to be at the very least somewhat respectful...

Jay smiled softly as your facial features relaxed with the exhausted sigh you let out, the slim sign of compliance compelling him to pace around the room more freely this time.

“To answer your question, love… I suppose some people are just simply,” he delayed in thought, looking up for a second til the right word came to mind… “Replaceable,” he finally finished, voice sounding eerily low as he now made a fierce eye contact with you.

You didn’t understand why he was taunting you all of a sudden… almost as if his previously compassionate demeanor had been corrupted by someone…

“A set of six friends that help you commit crimes… the meager cashier at a local convenience store… there are plenty of kindred spirits for those type of people… for instance, we’re both bound to find another Sunoo… and you, another Mandy—”

“What gives you any right to speak of them in such a way? After all the pain you’ve cost in their lives,” you questioned with a broken voice, hesitant tears welling in your eyes as the pain in your wrist increased with your emotions, the tight restraints only feeling worse any time you moved even in the slightest bit.

Jay caught onto this, too… watching the way your body winced from behind every time you even thought to disrespect him… it brought one of the most sincere smiles to his chilled face that you’ve seen in quite a while.

“Does talking back to me make you feel powerful, love?… c’mon, you can be honest… I won’t laugh…”

You never gritted your teeth so hard in your entire life as you did in this moment, staring back at him with bloodshot eyes as your vision started to blur from the tears.

“No,” you muttered out wobbly, hanging your head low as it became too hard to keep looking at his face, “it doesn’t make me feel anything at all…”

His feet paused in their pacing, right before he turned to meet you where you sat, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to look up at him, an unreadable but nonetheless threatening look in his eyes as your heart fluttered with nerves...

“I see…,” Jay continued, eyes not meeting yours but still wandering over the expanse of your face, observing your bruised cheek bone, the tiny cut in your lower lip, and the wrinkle between your furrowed brows. “Allow me to help you feel something for once, then…”

“Something painful, I’m sure—”

“I prefer the word pleasant,” he smiled, still holding your chin in place as his free hand reached for the dagger sitting on the side table, its sharp blade still shining before you despite the dimly lit atmosphere.

In this moment, the only pleasant thought in your heart was death, but Jay knew that would be both too good and bad of an ending for you.

Kneeling over you, he lined the blade up with the thick rope entrapping your weakened wrists, slicing back and forth in skilled motions until he felt your hands release.

A relaxed sigh left your mouth at the feeling, the simple sense of relief still mixing with anguish as Jay locked his eyes back on yours.

He knelt down now, letting your chin go as he cut the restraints from around your ankles, placing the blade in your lap before standing up to take a few steps away from you.

“Jay, why are you letting me free—”

“Because I love you, ____,” he stated firmly, removing his jacket from his shoulders as he watched you from where he stood, “that’s always been my reason behind everything since the day I first met you… since I realized that a soul like yours isn’t replaceable…”

“I… I don’t understand what you're trying to say—”

“Stand up,” he continued, voice sounding so deep that you felt it in your feet, “and pick up the knife…”

He watched your trembling hand reach for the blade as if in slow motion, your knees flexing to stand up, weakness plaguing your every step as you walked towards him, his usually sharp eyes softening to a state of meekness…

Or perhaps, it was another state in reflection of the twisted love Jay had chased for months on end… right before he decided within himself that he was willing to finally give it up if that's what it'd take to keep you safe... to see you happy...

“All you’ve ever wanted was to make your own choices… to have that freedom back that I took away from you... this is the only time I’m willing to give you a chance at liberty—”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jay,” your voice came out quietly with a crack, silently hiccuping now as the tears continued to fall, your anxious body somehow craving none other than his strong arms to catch you in case you fell… or even just for the fuck of it...

“Then don’t,” he whispered, maintaining a gentle smile as you practically fell apart from the inside out right before his eyes, “you can do whatever it is that you wish to now... Kill the thought of me along with this version of yourself, and run away for good… I won’t chase you anymore…”

This whole thing... it was becoming far more confusing than you could bear… all this time, all you ever wanted was to be your own person again... who could make decisions without having to look over their shoulder in fear anymore...

All you ever wanted was to live a happy life without Jay and his games, but right now, you couldn’t really remember or imagine what a life like that would look like anyways...

Even if you did run away, you’d still have all the memories from these horrors attached to you… all of the fears cementing every corner of your being like a dungeon... you’d still be reminded by all the bruises and pain...

Your life had come to a point where there was no more pleasure to seek from here, as Jay had filled every possible void and meaning in your life with fragments of his insanity for you...

Just as he operated and just as you concluded to yourself a long time ago, broken toys were Jay’s favorite objective, and if you weren’t already broken upon being found, you were bound to be by the time he finished playing with you.

Simply put, this traumatizing love game was nearing its demise, and you had come too far, become too weak to still put up a fight...

You fell into Jay's chest, his protective arms holding you close to him as your cold tears met his warm skin.

You desperately clung to his shoulders, hoping to gain any sense of comfort from the contact… any sense of that pleasantness he offered to you.

The dagger fell to the ground with a shattering clink, all of your nerves melting away as Jay continued to hold you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sniffle.

He always knew you’d come around, because that's how things went for him as a Park... though, he also knew it’d still hurt you in the beginning until you'd become adjusted.

You exhaled in his embrace, eyes shut tight even though the tears continued to spill.

“I don’t want to run anymore either, Jay,” you choked out, still clinging to him as he hummed at your words.

“I know, ____…” he said, almost in an apologetic manner, “but now…” he stalled in the silence, peeking down at the knife on the floor, “you’ll have to learn to love me again… but in the meantime, things will be different between us... better... and I can promise you that, love...”

All you did was nod against his chest, finally letting your eyes open up as you spoke an almost inaudible, “I hope I’ve made the right decision…”

He broke from the hug, still connecting your bodies by the waist as he took your hand in his hand to place a kiss against the tender marks on your wrist, a single thought resting in the back of your troubled mind...

You had just given up on your only chance of survival, and was that a foolish or wise decision? You’re not so sure as of now… but either way, one thing remained certain… a thing that you dreaded to acknowledge even now as Jay held you in his arms…

You could only hope that this certainty wouldn’t haunt you til the end of time, and that somewhere within the depths of your broken heart, you’d grow more accepting of the simple fact that Jay, in all of his efforts, had finally won, leaving the two of you now as a united pair to pick up and rebuild the pieces together…

☆ This concludes the CONVENIENT CHANCES series’ season finale everyone! I’d like to give special thanks to @yourmomscuntis2tighy for originally requesting this piece, and to all of the amazing people who supported this series to the very end 🤍🤍🤍

☆ NOTE: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @addictedtohobi @wonbinisbabygurl @cherlv @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @oshsha @elleflying07 @jjungwonss @soobins--dimple @heeseung-min @heerinnie @wonbyf @smouches @ilovesunoosm @whattheflipbroski @starrylovesu @jungwonloveer @idkdykilr @jays-property @daintysan @oddracha @miinie6300 @lilyuwon @meowmeowjang @sun00027 @kkamismom12

[moonstruckme]

Can you do poly!marauders where reader has kinda a shitty family? Like, where their family belittles them and insults them and gets mad over them existing so whe reader is back at hogwarts the next year she's as fragile as a china shop uncomfortablely close to a bull farm??

Only do it if your comfortable with it <3

Make sure to take care of yourself and remeber you are loved <3 <3

Thanks for requesting, love you and hope you're taking care of yourself as well <3

cw: hints at emotional abuse

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re quiet, all of a sudden. The distance over the last few months had been rough for all of you, gone to your separate homes for the summer, but Remus is beginning to suspect it was most difficult for you; you can’t seem to find your way back to them. It’s like you’ve constructed a shell around yourself over the short three months you’ve been apart, and none of James’ loving, Sirius’ teasing, or Remus’ offerings of a study companion have proved successful in drawing you back out. 

He’s sure you think you’re being subtle. You certainly haven’t addressed your boyfriends’ worries, either missing or ignoring the looks they send each other when you don’t jump in on a joke they’re doing or answer in a quiet, meek voice when they ask you a question. It’s as if you’re afraid of being heard, of being noticed at all. 

Remus doesn’t like it one bit. 

Neither do the others, of course, and he and James have had to talk Sirius down from confronting you about it multiple times already in the week since you’ve been back. You seem…fragile, somehow, and Remus doesn’t think pushing you will get the results they all want. James seems to think you’ll come back to them on your own if they give you time, and Remus isn’t so sure, but it’s the plan he’s rolling with for now. 

Still, he doesn’t think it’s out of line to intervene when he catches you carrying a stack of books that has to be half your weight. Last year, he’s positive you would have asked for help, but now you only grunt quietly as the stack wobbles above your head. 

“Let me take some of those for you,” Remus offers, already standing, and you flinch as if your distracting him from his homework is a punishable offense. The stack teeters dangerously with your sudden movement. 

“That’s okay,” you squeak, leaning back a bit in an attempt to get your tower of books under control. You look timid, wide-eyed like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, afraid of getting in trouble. “You can sit back down, I’ve—” You don’t even get the chance to finish your excuse before the books topple, scattering about. Remus flinches internally when some fall down on your head, and another sends an empty glass on the edge of the coffee table crashing to the ground. 

You cover your mouth with your hand, staring in silent horror at the mess around you. 

James and Sirius, playing cards on the other side of the coffee table, look up at the commotion. 

“Shit,” Sirius says (a rather eloquent sum-up in Remus’ opinion). “Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe, crouching and beginning to gather the broken glass in your hands.  “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that.” 

“Don’t—be careful,” Remus starts to say, but then you lose your balance, stepping backwards just slightly and letting out a tiny hiss. 

Remus stands, but James gets to you first, careful to keep away from the broken glass himself as he lifts you clear of the debris and deposits you onto the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, impossibly quiet. You’re looking between your boyfriends as if unsure what they want you to do. 

“Angel, it’s okay,” James insists, coming to sit down in front of you. “We’ll clean it up in a bit, don’t worry. Did you hurt yourself?”

You look down at your foot, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

“A little,” you admit. “Sorry.” 

“Stop that,” Remus says sternly. “It was a mistake. We only care that you’re hurt.” 

You look conflicted, and Remus can practically see your next apology forming on your tongue, but before you can utter it, James asks gently, “Can I have a look, sweetheart?”

You blink at him, nodding hesitantly. James is careful as he takes your ankle in his hand, lifting your foot in front of his face. His expression clears a little.

“Okay, it’s just a little piece,” he says, adjusting his hold before picking out a tiny bit of glass and flicking it into the pile with the rest. “There you go.” 

You nod your thanks, curling your foot underneath you. You’re being quiet as a rabbit, Remus thinks, all tense and wary but afraid to make a single sound. Whether you notice or not, the unease in the room grows with every second of your silence. 

Finally, it appears Sirius can’t be held at bay any longer. 

“Alright,” he says, more frustration in his tone than Remus thinks is really a good idea, “what’s going on with you?”

You look surprised. “Me?”

“Yes, you. You’ve been acting like someone’s going to shout at you ever since we got back this year.” Sirius lowers his voice, eyebrows scrunching together just slightly. “It was being at home, wasn’t it? Something happened.” 

You flush, and Remus feels suddenly like this is a conversation he has no right to be in. Of course Sirius would be the one to pick up on it if  your family was what was making you act this way. No wonder he’d been so insistent they needed to get to the bottom of it. That’s something he can understand, whereas Remus and James never could. 

“Nothing happened,” you say, and Sirius narrows his eyes like he doesn’t believe you. “I just…okay, don’t be mad.” 

“No one is going to be mad at you, sweetheart,” Remus says, feeling like his heart is working its way up his throat with the words. “We’re just…you’ve seemed so different, and it’s scaring us a little bit. We only want to know what we can do to help.” 

You look hesitant. James reaches forward, taking your hand in both of his and rubbing at it with his thumbs. You nod, seeming a bit more confident now, and say, “There’s nothing you can really do. I just need some time.” 

James nods back, looking at you with brown eyes big and open and understanding. Remus often wishes he could convey even half James’ earnestness, but he doesn’t know anyone with the same capacity for warmth. “Time for what, darling?”

You nibble on your lower lip, and Remus has to repress the urge to rescue it from between your teeth. “Well, we didn’t really get close until a couple months into fall term last year, right?”

“Right,” James agrees. 

“So…I wouldn’t expect you to know, but it always sort of takes me a bit to…adjust back to school life.” 

Sirius still looks like he wants to fight something, but he’s more careful to keep his anger out of his voice now. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “You’re not wrong. My family isn’t always as…patient with me as you guys are. They’re not awful, it’s just, I get into a habit of being quieter around them.” Remus’ heart feels like lead in his chest. “It takes me a while to get out of the habit once I get back.” 

“Honey,” James murmurs, not looking much better than Remus feels. “I’m sorry.” 

You give him a little smile, shifting uncomfortably. “You don’t need to act like it’s such a tragedy,” you joke. “I’ll get over it soon.” 

James looks distressed, but Remus cuts in. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can be yourself at home, lovely girl,” he says in what he hopes is a light but soothing tone, unsure what you need right now but gathering from your demeanor that it’s not their pity. He slides his arm around your back to tug you closer to him. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

You hum contentedly, leaning against his side. “Not really,” you reply. “You guys are too good to me, it’s hard to be quiet around you for long.” 

“Good,” Sirius says firmly, “because we don’t want you to. Want to go scream off the astronomy tower, sweet thing? Maybe that’ll help loosen you up.” 

“Actually, I’d really like to clean up my mess before someone comes down here and steps on it,” you admit. “But maybe we can try your yelling thing tomorrow.”