#after drinking with them the whole night before

[shanefuckingscott]

soft awkward and silly Sevika 🦾

Imagine, Sevika being all soft, silly and awkward around you. 🦾

(Probably a part 2-ish of Sevika headcanons, but she's all cutesy here, even though she already is)

Look at her, she's just a baby. 😍🦾

Warning: Cute Sevika, slightly suggestive, probably ooc, but you'll prolly still read, BARELY PROOFREAD.

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

Even though Sevika is all serious and shit to keep up with her reputation in Zaun as the "Scary lady", she can actually get really silly and awkward when she's comfortable around you to. Or when she feels close to you.

First time you encounter this side of Sevika, you were working as a bar maid in the last drop. You and her were already actively flirting with each other for a good while, so she's starting to loosen up around you.

You were handing out drinks to people, and walking towards her table, when suddenly, you trip over nothing, and nearly fall.

Sevika catches you in time, though, and your, and the drinks in your hand were in safe hands, although it spilled a little on your shirt. You were wearing a white top, and it was see through.

She stares at your chest for awhile, and your face heats up. She snaps out of it, and her eyes are wide, when she realizes hoe obvious she was. So to defend herself, she made a joke of how clumsy you are, but you can still see a dark shade of red on her cheeks that night. You thought it was cute.

The second time, was when you were laughing at something she said, and she just paused to look at your face to admire you, and then tucked your hair behind you ears. You were surprised, so she snapped out of it, and hid her face, while she was looking down at the drink on her hand. You giggle at her, and she's even shyer now. She just furrowed her eyebrows, and called you an idiot. You know it's just her defense mechanism though, but you don't push her about it, and you jusy giggle ay her.

She CANNOT stop looking at you while you work. The way you carry yourself, the way you smile, your bubbly personality. But she HATES it when you get too bubbly with someone.

Secretly threatens people who flirt with you, or look at you a little too much, but she doesn't tell you. You only find out, when Theiram accidentally ratted her out, and let's just say she was real quiet after that.

(She still does threaten them, but she threatened Theiram too, so no you don't know a thing)

She's actually really sweet. She'd give you sweets on your break, since she know you like them, and sweets are usually hard to find in Zaun, so when she goes to Topside for business, she'd often stop at a candy store to buy you whatever candies you like.

Will pause her games just to talk to you on your free time. She likes you alot, but she's still mustering up the courage to ask you out.

You beat her to it though, when you hang out with her outside of work, and she's awestruck for like a solid 30 seconds, before picking herself up, and smilimg to her self. "Alright then, pick you up at 7?" she asks, and you laugh at her, and answer "But I asked YOU out!" She rolls her eyes, and calls you an idiot again, and then comes to you hours at exactly 7pm.

Your first date with her, you guys just went to Jericho's and she looked so hot eating, tbh, and it got you all flustered, and honestly, a little wet.

You wipe her mouth with a tissue, and she just froze up, and looked at you, before hiding face again, and blushed.

You offered to pay, ot even 50/50, but she took your purse/wallet, when you werent looking, and beat you to it.

You guys were flirting and laughing the whole way home, and you were both blushing messes.

Sevika's surprisingly giggly, and soft once you get to know her. She had her moments of dominance, and assertiveness, specially when she has negotiations, and over all just everyday, but, there's moments with you that she just kinda let's her walls down a bit.

She has that soft look in her eye, that little sparkle sometimes, that only sometimes occurs, but, lately, you've been seeing it alot in her eyes. You notice her little imperfections that make her perfect. Her Uneven lips, her gapped teeth, her scars, everything that she told you she hated about herself, all of it was perfect in your eyes. And you never failed to tell her how perfect she is to you, you'd always see her face light up a little bit, but she always tried to hide it. Unsuccessfully, though.

When you got to your apartment, you guys stood there for a bit, and you thank her. She just looks at you, and rubs the back of her neck, and says it's no biggie. And she looks at you.

You pull her into a kiss, it all happens so quick. One minute, you were awkwardly flirting with her, and the next, you're making out with her. She, doesn't kiss you back just yet, she's still processing what's happening. You suddenly realize she was all tense, and she wasn't kissing you back, so you pull away.

"O-oh my, I'm so sorry, I thought—" She pulls you back in, in a much deeper, and passionate kiss. You peak through your eyes, to see her eyebrows are furrowed her eyes intensely closed, and she has a faint bush on her cheeks and ears.

You hungrily kiss each other, and wish you could stay like that forever, but unfortunately, you still both need to breathe. She cups your cheeks, and she looks in your eyes. You smile at her, and touch her chest, "I love you, Sevika, you know that?" You confess to her, while still catching your breath. She softens her gaze, and blinks at you, and under her breath, she lets out a quiet,

"I love you too."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I actually don't know the direction where this fic is going, I just felt like writing something about Sevika, heh, but you made it that far. 😉

[harryhighkey]

hungover with in-ho

headcanons of a morning with a hungover fem!reader and her older bf hwang in-ho

this is different from what i normally do but wanted to try it out, lmk what you think pls!

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you would wake up to the aircon a few degrees cooler than normal, but the blanket and sheets are tight around you, so you're cosy. in-ho is very observant and knows you sleep better with a cooler temp in the air but kept warm by bedding. he wanted to make sure you got a good sleep when you finally got in last night so he made sure the room was cool before tucking you in.

you open your eyes and see your water bottle is on the bedside table filled with icy cold water, a box of painkillers sit beside it for the hungover headache in-ho was sure you were going to wake up with after how drunk you were. you take two pills and gulp it down with water. you sigh in relief at the cold water coating your throat and treat yourself to some more mouth-fulls. you think about getting up but you're not ready, instead you drop your head back to the pillow and groan at how hungover you feel.

because you slept in late, in-ho is already up. he's still in the clothes he went to bed in. he's tired from waiting up for you, drinking a coffee in the kitchen. but as he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed down followed by you groaning he comes back to the bedroom. he's annoyed with you. you left yesterday at 2:52pm and had told him you were only going out for a few drinks with friends and would be back in a few hours. then you got home at 3:24am. you'd also completely ignored your phone the whole night, which meant all of in-ho's texts and calls had gone unanswered. you didn't do it on purpose, you were just drunk and having fun with your friends.

"what happened to 'just a few drinks'?" you open your eyes again at the sound of your boyfriend and roll onto your back to see him standing beside the bed. he doesn't sound happy and his face matches his pissed off tone. your voice is whiny and croaky from just waking up as you answer him. "don't be mad at me, i don't feel well." he almost folds. almost. but he's been harbouring over this all night and morning. "i was worried. you didn't answer your phone once. do you have any idea how many times i called? i had no idea what you were doing, if you were safe-" "in-ho, please." you interrupt him, lifting the sheets and pulling them over your head to hide away.

he'd get back into the bed then, determined to let you know last night wasn't okay. he's extremely overprotective when it comes to you, that paired with his control issues had him panicking last night. he grabs the sheets to see your face again but you keep them locked over your head. you both know he could overpower you, so you speak out instead. "you can come under and talk, but you have to whisper under here, it's the one sacred under the sheet rule."

he rolls his eyes and sighs. but because he loves you, he gives into your game. he's still annoyed but your silly act of defiance has softened his resolve slightly. he joins you under the sheets, both of you now laying on your sides and facing each other. you know he's angry at you so you're trying not to laugh at your older boyfriend giving into your playful suggestion. he sees the smile you're trying to hide and then it's his turn to try not to laugh. you crack first, your laugh sounding out and his does right after. you are sunshine to him, even annoyed at you, he finds it impossible to not be lit up by you.

"come here." he snakes his arms around you and pulls you into him, you easily melt against him, your hands coming to his face as you kiss. it's intense, firm but quick. your lips come apart with a smack.

you keep your hands on his face, your fingertips leaving tiny patterns into his skin as he talks. you watch as he frowns again, this time it wasn't complete anger, it was also out of stress. "i was worried about you." subconsciously, his arms tighten around you. you nod. you explain to him what happened, how you honestly just lost track of time. he scolds you for not sending him an update that you would be out late, ending it with a "...i have to know you're safe, baby."

"i promise next time i will." you assure him. "next time?!" he's already stressing over the thought of you out drunk into all hours of the night again.

you distract him by kissing him again. it turns heated quickly, his hands slipping under your shirt.

between kisses and skilful hand movements, you now find yourself under him, topless. "we better get out of these sheets, you're about to do a lot more than whisper, my girl."

it's lucky the aircon is still set at a lower temp than normal because you two build up quite a sweat once you're both naked and you & in-ho spend the rest of what's left of the morning with him buried inside of you.

[gottencents]

Melting - Giselle

pairing. idol!giselle x girlfriend!reader

synopsis. On a snowy winter night, Y/n and Giselle spend the evening wandering through festive streets, sharing hot chocolate, and braving the ice skating rink—where a few stumbles lead to warm hands, stolen glances, and a heart-fluttering confession under the twinkling lights.

The city was alive with the glow of twinkling fairy lights, festive decorations adorning every shop window, and the sound of soft holiday music playing in the distance. It was the kind of evening that felt almost magical—the crisp winter air carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts and fresh snow.

You pulled your scarf up a little higher, trying to shield your face from the cold as you walked beside Giselle. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, her dark hair tucked neatly beneath a beanie. Every few seconds, she’d glance at you with a teasing smile, like she was up to something.

“You sure you’re warm enough?” Giselle asked, her voice laced with concern.

You exhaled, watching as your breath curled into the air. “I’m fine. But I think my fingers are turning into icicles.”

Giselle hummed, stopping in her tracks. Before you could ask why, she reached out and grabbed your hands, bringing them up to her lips. She blew warm air onto them, her eyes meeting yours as she did.

“Better?” she murmured, her breath warm against your fingertips.

Your heart did a backflip. “Y-Yeah,” you stammered, trying not to focus on how soft her hands felt against yours.

She grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction. “Good. Because I don’t need you freezing on me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I think you’re just using this as an excuse to hold my hands.”

Giselle tilted her head, pretending to think. “Hmm, maybe. But if it works, who am I to complain?”

Laughing, you gently tugged her along. “Come on, let’s go get some hot chocolate before I actually turn into an icicle.”

The two of you made your way to a cozy little café on the corner, the windows fogged up from the warmth inside. The scent of cinnamon and cocoa filled the air as you both stepped in, shaking off the cold.

After ordering two cups of hot chocolate, you found a seat by the window, watching as snowflakes danced under the streetlights outside. Giselle sat across from you, her hands wrapped around her mug as she took a sip, humming in satisfaction.

“You have a little—” you started, but Giselle beat you to it, swiping a finger across her upper lip where whipped cream had stuck.

She licked it off without a second thought, completely oblivious to the way your brain short-circuited at how cute she looked.

“You were saying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re staring, Y/n.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I was not staring.”

“You totally were.”

You peeked at her through your fingers, only to see that she was already watching you with that teasing sparkle in her eyes. “Okay, maybe a little,” you admitted.

Giselle smirked. “I knew it. But don’t worry—I think it’s cute.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly changed the subject. “Are we still going to the skating rink after this?”

Giselle’s eyes lit up. “Of course! I have to see if you’re actually as bad at skating as you claim.”

You groaned dramatically. “It’s not a claim. It’s a fact. I will fall, and I will take you down with me.”

She laughed, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “Then I guess I’ll just have to hold on to you the whole time.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you only nodded, hoping she couldn’t see how flustered you were.

After finishing your drinks, you headed to the outdoor skating rink. It was beautifully lit, with a large Christmas tree in the center, people gliding across the ice effortlessly. You, however, clung to the railing for dear life the moment you stepped on.

Giselle giggled, skating up beside you with ease. “Okay, you weren’t kidding. You really can’t skate.”

“I told you,” you huffed, gripping the railing as if your life depended on it. “I don’t know how people make this look so easy.”

She reached for your hands. “Come here, I got you.”

Hesitantly, you let go of the railing, immediately wobbling. Giselle’s grip tightened, keeping you steady. “See? I won’t let you fall.”

You looked up at her, heart pounding. “Promise?”

She smiled, soft and sincere. “Promise.”

Slowly, she guided you across the ice, her hands never letting go of yours. At one point, you stumbled, but she caught you, pulling you flush against her.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, the only thing you could focus on was how close she was—her warm breath against your cheek, her arms steadying you, the way her lips curled into a fond smile.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

She laughed gently, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I told you—I won’t let you fall.”

Your gaze flickered to her lips for just a second before you met her eyes again. “What if I fall for you instead?”

Giselle blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Then I guess I’ll just have to catch you again.”

With that, she leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your lips. It was warm, sweet, and just long enough to make your heart race.

When she pulled away, she grinned. “I think that was the easiest fall yet.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her. “Yeah. And the best one, too.”

As the snow continued to fall around you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you knew this night would be one you’d never forget.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 5 - long gazes

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

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after another amazing show the guys put on, you and the girls headed out to a nearby bar while the boys were finishing up and doing some press shots.

"they never miss. this tour is the best yet" cleo said as you all sat down with your drinks. "you should be so proud sarah"

"why me?" she asked.

"with everything rafe has been through, he seems to be doing well and he really shines on stage." cleo replied.

you couldn't help but wonder what they meant. what had he been through? sarah nodded in response, a small smile coming across her lips as she seemed lost in thought, clearly proud of her brother.

"yeah i am. i'm proud of all of them, they have come so far."

after a few cocktails in, the boys finally arrived and took their seats, topper coming to sit next to you before rafe had a chance too. he made a quick stern look to topper, making him clearly uncomfortable but he didn't budge.

rafe hadn't sat down yet, he just stood there for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind. he finally sat down across from you, an intensity there, a quiet pull between you two that felt almost electric.

the rest of the group chatted casually, but the air between you and rafe seemed to sparkle with an unspoken tension.

topper, oblivious to the silent exchange, leaned back in his chair and grinned at you, his arm slung casually across the back of your chair. you could feel rafe's stare shift to him, then back on you, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite place.

"so, what’s the verdict?" top asked, nudging you lightly.

"hmm?" you blinked, snapping out of the fog rafe’s gaze had put you in.

"the show, I mean." topper raised an eyebrow. "did you enjoy it?"

"oh yes!" you replied, "you guys killed it. maybe even better than the other week"

rafe kept his eyes on you, moving in closer across the table, his presence suddenly looming over you.

"did you really think tonight was better?" he asked, his voice low. he was leaning in now, his face only inches from yours.

the rest of the group was still chatting, but it felt like you and rafe were the only two in the room.

"yeah," you said, holding his gaze. 'you were incredible." the few drinks in you giving you a slight boldness.

rafe's lips turned into a smug, half-smile. there was a flicker in his eyes "good" he muttered softly,

you felt his knees slightly graze yours under the table, but you tried to ignore the heat threatening to come over your face and turned back to the table to join in the conversation they were having.

"and then he told me that wasn't possible! like what does that even mean?" jj laughed, you had no idea the context of the discussion, but you laughed along like you had been paying attention the whole night.

toppers arm had moved and was no longer hanging loosely around your back, a sense of relief washing over you, not because you didn't like topper, he was a great friend, but it wasn't him you wanted touching you.

the night stretched on, and rafe and you kept making eye contact with each other, the tension growing thick.

"should we head back to the hotel?" sarah asked.

"yeah i could head to bed now" kie replied.

"where are you guys staying?" jj chirped in.

"just down the road at hotel monroe" cleo replied.

"that's where we're staying" rafe said gently, a hint of a smile on his lips. "let's all go then."

you couldn't help but feel excited knowing rafe was staying where you were, meaning you would at least see him one more time before you drive home.

you all made your way out your seats, taking the short walk back to the hotel, alcohol rushing through your systems and the adrenaline of the night. trying to remain calm as you could feel rafe lightly holding onto the short of your back, keeping you steady.

once you all made it to your rooms and said your goodbyes, you and sarah got into the bedroom to start getting ready for bed.

"this was such a fun night." sarah spoke happily.

"it really was. i can't thank you enough for letting me interfere your life like this." you responded, giving her a long hug.

"don't be silly. you fit in so well with us and it's rare for the boys to like someone so much that we bring into their lives also. they're very cautious, for good reason, but seeing them all trust you just as much as us girls do certifies i've found a good one" she grinned.

"stop being soppy" you threw your pillow at her.

"it's true! especially rafe. he doesn't warm to people easily."

"i wouldn't say he's exactly warmed to me" you responded, slightly pushing to see if she'd say more.

"i know it doesn't seem it, but i can tell he approves of you. he's a tough egg to crack."

"you can say that again" you giggled

"tell me about it, imagine being his sister"

you both laughed until sarah went serious "he looks at you differently y/n"

"what do you mean?" you questioned.

"i don't know yet. he's a confusing guy." her light hearted tone present again.

"hmm" you replied, letting sleep slowly start to wash over you, lost in thoughts about what sarah meant over that. had she noticed? would she mind? you couldn't lose your friendship with sarah.

but you also couldn't ignore the rafe was making you feel.

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a/n: treating you to another one🤭 apologies for the slow burn... can you tell i grew up on wattpad

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower

[frownyalfred]

Lois having some chemistry with Bruce Wayne (and him being genuinely into that) (too bad we cant mix and match) but ultimately not liking the whole of him is so juicy on terms of possibilities. Like imagine an AU where Lois and Bruce know each other before Clark comes into the picture, and they flirted with being more, she knows he's Batman, but they get too much tunnel vision to really be a couple (and I always thought she just didnt want the stress that he could die any night). And then Clark has his romance with Lois and his 💖vibes💖 with Batman, and once he learns Bruce and Batman are one and the same, he realizes how much those two do actually lean on each other (Lois consulting with Bruce, Bruce passing over justice hard-hitters of publishable info).

All this because I read a post of yours where Lois actively asks for Bruce to be there when she delivers her baby. Like.

My question is- how much are these three able to circle each other before they realize everyone has 2 hands? Like whats the maximun level of slow burn angst we coumd squeeze out of them?

I love anything to do with all three of them but truly I want to see an AU where they DO try to mix and match. With disastrous results. Because while Lois likes those parts of them, they’re never fully themselves with her. But you know they can be their full selves with? Especially poor Clark — in that universe, Lois didn’t care for Clark Kent at all. It must be hard to only be the Superhero for her. And conversely, while Bruce is Bruce Wayne for her, Batman is such an integral part of him — denying it would be like cutting off an arm.

Idk I just imagine them going out for dinner/drinks after/before their little thing with Lois and slowly bonding over it. Like they start as friends, and realize they CAN share their full selves with each other. Bruce doesn’t hate Clark Kent, and Clark understands Batman more than he knows. And then slowly, things with Lois cool off more and more and they start meeting up just the two of them….

(I love Lois and she deserves as many threesomes as she wants, but I also love the tragic love triangle of the two of them trying and it still not being enough, mixing and matching. You know?)

[unfortunate-brat]

You’re Mine | guitarist!ryomen sukuna x latina!reader

pairing: guitarist!ryomen sukuna x latina!reader

synopsis: you may have left the club with someone else but sukuna knows you’ll never be satisfied unless its him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: slight pussy inspection, drinking, smoking, dirty talk, degrading words, obsession, jealousy, talk of pregnancy, implication of choking, sukuna is in denial, toxic relationship, sukuna is not a romantic,

yazzy's comments: so its between sukuna and jensen ackles for brainrot. truly i’m fucked if i ever encounter being sandwiched between them. artist is Marcellet19 on twitter !!

18+, must have age in bio to interact. minors and ageless accounts will be blocked !!

💌 follow @unfortunate-bratfics for just new posted imagines !!

his eyes look into the crowd as each finger chooses the right tune for the song’s melody. it’s the first time sukuna’s sung in front of a big group of people, let alone outside of his own room. gojo advised him to picture everyone naked to help ease the nerves but that only makes the guitarist disgusted. besides there’s only one person who looked good naked.

you were sipping your drink at the bar, eyes elsewhere as sukuna continued to entertain the crowd. he wonders if you’re avoiding his gaze, if the words he’s singing sound familiar to your ears, if you’d maybe look his way for fucking once.

strumming his guitar, he looks down to his fingers moving with perfect precision, this beat was nothing new of course. the pink haired fool had practiced it for three weeks while thinking of you. losing sleep as every wrong note would remind him of that night you screamed at him for being a jackass. that he would never change for the better. that perhaps whatever arrangement the two of you had was pure poison.

those dark eyes focus upon you yet again, unable to stray away from the hand that has wrapped around your waist. how dare you let someone else touch you? sukuna takes a moment to glance away, so no one figures he’s trying to blow someone up with his mind.

with the final note, sukuna glances in your direction yet again and sees the other guy dragging you away towards the bathroom. your laughter seemingly follows behind but its too loud in this place to tell for sure. what he does know is that whoever was pulling you away was a dead man.

he’s about three glasses deep in vodka, opting to just get it without ice as his thoughts are haunted by your face. there’s no doubt that you haven’t left and are still somewhere with that fucking asshole. as much as sukuna is very much to blame for you being with someone else, he won’t think to apologize.

dark crimson eyes dart to the bathroom where you had seemingly disappeared to, debating whether to get up and drag your ass out or to wait. the buzz running through his body was fueling his thoughts to beat up the guy but he’ll never get to play at this club if that happened. he’ll just have to play the long game.

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meanwhile you had snuck out to the front of the club and shared a cigarette with the stranger from earlier. both your bodies huddled close together to fight the chill of the night.

normally you didn’t smoke but after a couple drinks, the craving overpowered your brain. luckily this guy had a whole pack and for now, you enjoy the sting of nicotine coating your airways. it’s better than the sting of a certain someone’s kiss, despite how you somewhat missed them.

there’s no doubt that the song sukuna covered tonight was about you, it’s one of the many he practiced while you were asleep during the rare times that sukuna let you stay over that is. and you could feel his eyes burning a hole into your body, assuming that he knew you were with someone else.

“cold sweetheart?” a voice says softly, interrupting your thinking as a warm jacket covers your shoulders. “there, I wouldn't want you to freeze.”

you smiled softly, taking the last drag of the cancerous stick before handing it back to him. “thank you.” the smile he returns makes your knees weak, who knew someone else could do that for you? “you sure you’re not gonna freeze?”

the man lets out a smirk before wrapping an arm around your waist, closing the distance between you both. “nah, i got you to help me with that.” his lips meet yours and you can’t help but kiss back with the same passion. ignoring the cigarette that fell to the floor, being snuffed out by his foot. your arms wrapping around his neck as he chuckles between kisses. “see? feeling warmer already.”

“oh shut up.” pulling away you glance at the cab’s waiting for someone to use their services. “wanna head to my place?”

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sukuna doesn’t sleep, something in his brain telling him that you were up to no good. if he could drive, he’d head to your place. toss you on the bed and make you remember who could make you scream the loudest. paint that pretty skin of yours with bite marks and various hickies. make you so stupid all you can blabble out is his name.

running a hand through his spiky strands of pink, sukuna glances at the time on his phone. it’s already six am and a whole night passed without him realizing. guess his thoughts were too deep.

with a groan, he grabs something basic, sweats and a black hoodie before heading out of his apartment. alcohol may make his ability to drive out of the question but walking won’t. you did live a bit far but his determination will fuel his energy. and if anything, sukuna was gonna make you take him back. even if it’ll take a couple rounds of sex to do so.

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there’s a pounding at your door and despite you not wanting to get up, your neighbors might start complaining. so with not so graceful steps, you rise from the warmth of your bed to the door. wrapping a silk robe around your figure as all you slept with was panties. finding a tall and dark figure standing in your doorway, the stench of vodka oozing off his skin.

“you gonna let me in or what?” his eyes stare into your own, taking note that you were pretty much naked underneath the silk.

“it’s six in the morning, can’t this wait?” you whine, rubbing one of your eyes as sukuna pushes past you. “i’m tired.”

he freezes before slowly turning around as you shut the door. “tired from what?” and within seconds sukuna has you pinned against the wooden door, one hand resting at your throat. “from faking with him? or did he know what he was doing?” Your hands are powerless against his own as they remove your robe, shifting down to the lace barely covering your cunt. “no marks, is he too scared to hurt you or what?”

you can’t fight him, nor stop his actions as the buzz from earlier is still in your veins. as your judgment isn’t in its best state and old feelings are resurfacing. it had been three months since he last touched you like this. you had mostly avoided him of course but how long could you resist him entirely?

your body is thrown down onto the mattress, legs spread apart as sukuna rips the lace covering the last inch of you in two. rough and callused fingers spreading your folds open as he chuckles darkly. “look at my beautiful girl, she looks abused. guess he did know what he was doing huh?” you can’t help but look away, biting back the moan that threatens to escape you.

his thumb swipes through the arousal that began to pool out, bringing it to his mouth for a quick taste. a mixture of your sweet juices and a bit of saltiness greeting his taste buds. “hmm, you always were such a slut for creampies.” he takes a moment to look up at you, noting how you chose to look away. “what, you hate me now?” a harsh slap against your folds makes you whimper as he grins. “that’s not what this pussy thinks and you know it.” another slap, followed by three more make you whine and the shame pools in your stomach.

his free hand grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. “you can fuck anyone, act like it’ll be enough but we both know the truth at the end of the day.” there’s no warning when his tip greets your entrance, you hadn’t even noticed his sweats were off. “this pussy is mine and i don’t have any issue reminding you. nor do i care his cum is still inside.” he pushes inside, bottoming out as you writhe and squirm under his towering frame. “let’s see which one gets you pregnant first.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Please note; I do not allow translations or redistributions of my work by anyone else except myself. MDNI, if your account is ageless or empty, I will block you !! Minors are NOT welcome here.

[allfearstofallto]

A Night to Forget

Caleb x Fem! Reader

TW: 18+ MDNI, dub-con(?), mentions of drinking/drunk sex, mostly mentions (?) of sex, angst

You'd gotten way too drunk. The throbbing, damn near agonizing headache told you that. And the fact that you woke up naked next to Caleb. His muscular arm draped over your waist was usually a comforting feeling, but at this very moment with all your drunken memories flooding in, you felt queasy.

Caleb awoke soon after you with a stretch and a yawn. His eyes immediately fell upon you and they softened. A warm smile on his face, a look of almost pride as he traced a hand up and down your nude waist. You sat there stiffly at his casual touch, blanket hiked up to your neck to cover your modesty.

“What's the matter, pip-” he stopped talking when he saw you grimace. You couldn't hear him call you that nickname again, not after you heard him moan it in your ear while he was balls deep inside you. Even remembering that made you cringe, clenching in on yourself.

“You're not sore, are you?” His voice was less playful now, more concerned. His big hand reached up to caress your face, long fingers stroking your cheek. When you remembered what you'd done with those fingers last night, what they'd done to you, how he used them to pleasure you with an impossible amount of skill and confidence, you flinched away from his touch.

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” you pushed his hand away gently, as gently as you could given the circumstances. The whole situation was mortifying, made even worse by the headache that was still pounding in your skull.

He let out a chuckle at what he assumed to be a joke from your end, pretty purple eyes shutting as he laughed. His touch was still so casual with you, as casual as it was before this. With the warm sunrise light cascading out of the window, he sat up and slid closer to you, looking at your face trying to decipher what you were feeling.

“Hungover?” Caleb tried to console you. You could barely hear him though, over the head ache and the fact that the blanket had slid down his body, barely covering him. You knew Caleb had a happy trail, you'd seen it before when the two of you had gone swimming. The little patch of hair that started at his navel and went lower and lower. When wearing swim trunks, you had the luxury of not knowing where it ended. Your face flushed with shame when you realized that you knew where it did now.

“I'll go grab you some water-”

“-No!” You quickly stopped him before he could leap from the bed. It was clear that he had no intention of covering himself once he left the modesty of the sheet and you didn't want to see all of him again.

Yelling like that did you no favors though. You dropped your head into your hands and groaned at the way you brain felt like it was splitting apart and cracking your skull open. Caleb was quick to notice this, but also notice the way that you were acting towards him now. The way you were suddenly so uncomfortable.

“Last night was stupid, huh?” He muttered, resting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze, trying to bridge the gap that you were putting between the two of you. His voice sounded tender, but also weak. The usual commanding, confident tone that radiated from him was long gone.

“Yeah,” you muttered with a nod.

“Listen,” he began, it was clear he wanted to use the nickname that he'd given to you, the term of endearment that he'd called you since he developed his love for flying and his love for you, but he thought to that face you made just a few moments earlier and thought it better to not trigger such a reaction in you again, “We were both drunk last night and it's clear that this was an accident, yeah? Let's just forget this ever happened.”

You met his gaze and saw uncertainty. He was saying what you wanted him to say, appealing to you because he'd rather lose this opportunity now than lose you forever. You felt the same way. Never once when you looked over Caleb did you see him in that way and you never knew he did.

“Please,” you said while clenching the blanket tight, like it was your lifeline. You watched his head hang, but then raise back up with a familiar, her forced smile.

He raised his hand and ruffled your hair, just the way you liked, just the way he's always done, “Of course, you know I'd do anything for you,”

[ilovegyokeres]

Hii can you pls write about the girl having just a fling with a teammate (maybe vlahovic) and then meeting kenan while being in turin and hanging out with all of them, and kenan and her have a spark and its a slowburn, secret looks, laughs. And she and vlahovic arent serious and vlahovic doesnt really care about her but kenan doesnt really wanna do anything bc they are teammates and then at the end its just inevitable that she and kenan are meant to be

Inevitable-Kenan Yildiz

summary: They had spent months pretending. But some things aren’t meant to be hidden—some things are inevitable.

genre: romance, slow burn

The thing with Vlahović was simple.

No strings, no expectations. Just late-night texts, occasional drinks, and nights spent tangled in expensive sheets before parting ways like nothing happened. He never asked her to stay. She never asked him to care. And somehow, that worked.

Until it didn’t.

She could feel it shifting, an undercurrent of restlessness tugging at her, especially when she was around the team. When she was around him.

Kenan Yıld��z.

The first time she properly noticed him was at a private team gathering after a match. She had been at the stadium earlier, watching Juventus win comfortably, with Vlahović scoring twice. When he texted her afterward—Come out tonight?—she didn’t hesitate.

The bar was exclusive, dimly lit with an air of effortless luxury. She sat beside Vlahović in a leather booth, sipping a drink while he chatted lazily with teammates. His arm was draped over the back of the seat, not really touching her but close enough to claim ownership.

And then Kenan walked in.

He was younger, quieter than the others, but he had an undeniable presence. She had seen him play before—sharp, unpredictable, electric on the ball—but in person, he carried himself differently. Reserved, observant. He didn’t demand attention like Vlahović did. He just had it.

Their eyes met for a fleeting second. A moment so brief she could have imagined it.

But later that night, when she laughed at something someone said, she felt it again. A gaze, steady and unreadable. She turned her head slightly, and there he was, watching her from across the room.

It should have been nothing.

But it wasn’t.

The second time it happened, she couldn’t ignore it.

Another night, another gathering—this time at a rooftop lounge overlooking Turin. She wasn’t with Vlahović, not really, but she had arrived with him, and that was enough for people to assume.

Kenan was there again, sitting a few seats away in a relaxed conversation with Federico Chiesa. But every so often, she caught his eyes flickering toward her.

And, despite herself, she started looking back.

It was subtle at first. A glance. A smirk. A shared moment when someone said something stupid, and they both fought not to laugh.

But then, later in the night, she stepped out onto the balcony for some air. She didn’t expect anyone to follow.

So when Kenan appeared beside her, she felt her pulse jump.

“Didn’t think you’d leave the party,” he said, leaning against the railing.

She shrugged. “Needed a break from the noise.”

He hummed in agreement. Silence stretched between them, comfortable but charged. The city sprawled below, golden lights twinkling against the dark.

Then, quietly, he said, “You’re not really with him.”

She turned to him, surprised. “What?”

“Vlahović.” His voice was even, unreadable. “You’re not really his.”

Something about the way he said it made her breath catch.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not.”

Kenan exhaled, glancing away. “Then why does it feel like you are?”

The words settled between them, heavy and unspoken. She didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense.

And before she could say anything, he pushed off the railing, stepping back.

“I should go,” he murmured.

She wanted to stop him. To ask what he meant, why it mattered.

But he was already gone.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, she realized—Vlahović was the least of her problems.

The tension only grew from there.

The next time she saw Kenan, it was impossible to ignore the way his eyes lingered. The way her pulse quickened when he was near. The way his expression tightened whenever she was with Vlahović, even though there was nothing to be jealous of.

And then, one night, it all came to a head.

A team dinner. A long table filled with players, coaches, and a few people on the outskirts—like her.

She sat beside Vlahović, not because she wanted to, but because it was expected. He barely paid attention to her, too caught up in some story Bremer was telling.

But Kenan?

Kenan sat across from her, eyes flickering to her every few minutes. Watching. Not speaking.

And when someone made a joke about her and Vlahović—something lighthearted, but laced with assumptions—she saw it.

The way Kenan’s jaw clenched. The way he suddenly lost interest in his food. The way he left before dessert, walking out without a word.

She followed him.

Out into the quiet night, where he leaned against his car, arms crossed, shoulders tense.

“Kenan,” she said softly.

He didn’t look at her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why did you leave?”

His silence was answer enough.

She stepped closer. “This isn’t fair.”

He let out a sharp breath. “What isn’t?”

“The way you look at me,” she said, voice quieter now. “The way you act like you don’t care, but then—” She exhaled. “Then you do.”

Kenan finally turned to her. And the way he looked at her then—intense, conflicted, wanting—made her stomach flip.

“I can’t,” he murmured.

“Why?”

He shook his head. “Because of him.”

She let out a soft laugh, almost bitter. “You know he doesn’t care about me, right?”

Kenan’s gaze darkened. “But I do.”

Her breath caught. The air between them felt suffocating, electric. But he still wasn’t moving.

Still holding back.

So she whispered, “Then do something about it.”

For a second, she thought he would.

But then he took a step back. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I can’t,” he said again. And this time, he left for good.

It was only a matter of time.

She ended things with Vlahović. Not that it was really a breakup—he just shrugged, barely reacting.

But Kenan?

Kenan was different.

Days passed. Weeks. The tension between them only grew.

And then, at another match, she sat in the stands. Kenan played brilliantly, electric on the ball, sharp as ever.

He scored.

And this time, when he turned to the crowd, he didn’t celebrate with his teammates.

He looked at her.

No pointing. No show.

Just a knowing smile.

Because this time, he wasn’t holding back.

The match ended, and the stadium buzzed with celebration. Juventus had won, but all she could think about was him.

Kenan hadn’t just looked at her—he had seen her. A silent acknowledgment of everything they had refused to say out loud.

And this time, she wasn’t letting him walk away.

She waited near the players’ exit, leaning against the cold concrete wall, heart pounding.

The first ones out were the usual faces—Vlahović, Chiesa, Bremer—laughing and chatting as they headed to their cars. Vlahović barely spared her a glance, which only proved what she already knew.

Then, finally, Kenan appeared.

Still in his training gear, damp hair falling messily over his forehead. His movements were slower than usual, more deliberate, as if he already knew she’d be there.

Their eyes met.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You’re still here.”

She stepped forward. “So are you.”

Kenan glanced around, as if debating whether to do this here, in the open. Then he sighed. “Come on.”

She didn’t ask where they were going. She just followed.

Kenan drove in silence, knuckles tight around the steering wheel. The car smelled faintly of leather and something him—clean, sharp, familiar.

They ended up at a quiet overlook just outside the city, Turin’s lights glittering below. The night air was crisp, the tension between them suffocating.

Kenan didn’t move to get out. Instead, he shifted in his seat, finally turning to face her.

“This is a bad idea,” he muttered.

She tilted her head. “Then why did you bring me here?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Good question.”

She stared at him, taking in the sharp lines of his face, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting himself. “You don’t have to hold back anymore,” she whispered.

His breath hitched.

Then, suddenly, his hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her in.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was weeks—months—of tension, of stolen glances, of unsaid words crashing into one moment.

Kenan kissed her like he had been waiting forever.

And maybe he had.

The next morning, reality hit hard.

They hadn’t planned to stay the night together, but neither of them had wanted to leave. Now, tangled in hotel sheets, the weight of what they’d done settled between them.

Kenan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, one arm draped lazily over his forehead. “We shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured.

She propped herself up on one elbow, tracing the line of his jaw with her gaze. “Do you regret it?”

A long silence.

Then, finally, he turned his head toward her. “No.”

Her heart skipped.

“But,” he continued, voice rough, “this can’t get out.”

She nodded, understanding. “I know.”

And so, the secret began.

Keeping it hidden was harder than she expected.

The stolen touches when no one was looking. The way Kenan’s eyes darkened whenever he saw her talking to someone else. The way she bit her lip to keep from smiling when he texted late at night—Come over.

It was dangerous. Reckless.

But it was also impossible to stop.

And then, one night, it almost did get out.

A team dinner, like before. She had been careful, keeping her distance. But when Vlahović leaned in to say something to her, too close, too familiar—Kenan snapped.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a scene. But she saw the way his entire body tensed, the way his grip tightened around his glass.

And later that night, when they were alone, he didn’t hold back.

“Why does he still think he has a claim on you?” Kenan muttered, voice sharp, hands gripping her hips as he pulled her against him.

She let out a shaky breath. “He doesn’t.”

Kenan’s lips brushed her ear. “Then why do I want to remind him?”

Her nails dug into his back. “Maybe you should.”

And that night, he did.

Secrets never last forever.

It unraveled faster than either of them expected.

A lingering glance caught by a teammate. A too-familiar touch. A whisper of suspicion spreading through the team.

And then—Vlahović.

He wasn’t jealous. Not really. But he wasn’t stupid either.

One night, after training, he pulled Kenan aside.

“You’ve got something to say?” Vlahović asked, voice calm but edged with something else.

Kenan met his gaze, shoulders squared. “What if I do?”

A tense silence.

Then, Vlahović let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You think I care?”

Kenan didn’t respond.

Vlahović smirked. “She was never mine. But I hope you know what you’re doing.”

And just like that, the last obstacle was gone.

The next time Kenan kissed her, it wasn’t in secret.

It was outside a café, the sun setting over Turin, people passing by.

No more glances over their shoulders. No more pretending.

Just them.

Because in the end, this had never been a choice.

It had always been inevitable.

The End.

(Or the beginning.)

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

YOU ONE OF THEM QUEERS???

Yandere Conner Kent x Weird black!reader

So what if you invited your brother's best friend to watch One Piece with you? He said he never had! What kind of psycho has never watched One Piece? You thought, but then again, the psycho was a test tube baby; he wouldn't know about the amazing run of Disney Channel back in the day, how it used to be, or how hyped everyone was for the Kaido fight with Luffy, or understand the cultural significance of a DBZ movie in theaters. You had to show this little lab rat the greatness of TV. Sure, he knows, but he doesn't know more. I mean, he never rushed home to watch Toonami after school. You had to teach him, and well, your little guinea pig was eager to know. Connor wanted to get closer to you in every way possible—be your best friend, be your favorite superhero, maybe even boyfriend if you catch the hints he's dropping. No, he doesn't just want to play Smash Bros; he wants you guys to be more than tag team buddies, but you'll only see him as something friendly. He calls you "babe," and you hit him with a "bro," you're breaking the poor boy's heart. He holds your waist; you think it's just a friendly gesture. He leans his head on your shoulder, smelling the cocoa butter you spread in your dreads and how it sticks to anything he wears. But to you, "Awe, the little guinea pig is sleepy," you teased, and this was the night you invited him over to the mansion. I mean, there's literally an entertainment room; it would be a shame not to watch the best story created by my man on a freaking projector!

"Wow, you're early; the popcorn ain't even poppin'!" you joked, a coy little smile on your face.

"I like being on time, babe," he smirked back, entering the mansion. "Hey, no boots, mister! This floor is hardwood, and I know you walk around in mud!" you warned, but there was still a playful edge to it.

“Ugh, babe, buy me a drink first before you see my feet!” Conner said with a big grin, and you made a fake gagging sound, causing the two of you to laugh. You took him by the hand and pulled him to the entertainment room.

"So how far are you in One Piece?" you asked. You forced him to watch it, but you couldn't call it force, because he watches it with you, telling him to listen and obey whatever you say. "Don't watch the movie; it's a waste of money." He was looking forward to it, but if you hate it, he hates it too. "Yuck, I hate the comic writer; he retcons almost everything if he can't fit it into a plot." If it's that bad, he won't read their comics.

"This fandom is pretty toxic, but come on, the merch is amazing! I mean, look at these MHA pins; they're too cute!" If you like those pins on your bag so much, then he'll wear a Todoroki pin on his leather jacket to make you smile.

You sat with Conner in the theater; it was the whole Cake Island arc. You were already on Wano, but Conner was new to the game, so you didn't mind going a couple of arcs back for him. His head was laid gently on your shoulder; you felt him sniff you and nuzzle his nose into your neck, which made you giggle.

"Dude, quit coming in. Try to pay attention; this is important for later arcs," you always say, but you're way more important to him.

"You say that every time," Conner huffed.

"Cause it is!" you gave a half-hearted laugh.

You looked down at him, and for some reason, the glowing light of the projector made you look stunning. The blue light cascading on your dark skin made you look so surreal, as if you weren't from this planet.

"Come on, Conner, just pay attention for a minute. I promise it'll be worth your while," you said softly. It felt so intimate, like you guys were in an actual movie theater, and you were like.

"Shhh, baby! We can't make out right now; the fight scene is happening." You're such a dense dork, but oh, it just makes it even better.

"Yeah, I'll pay attention." News flash: he won't. He'll be too busy staring at you and how your face lights up during the fights. His super hearing means he'll still listen, but he'd rather watch you, and maybe later he'll watch a YouTube video explaining the arc.

"God, I wish I were as cool as Sanji. He looks so wicked in that red cape! You know, you should really get a cape like that. I know your whole thing is leather jackets, but come on, you have to try out red. Plus, I heard it makes a person's eyes..." You trailed off as you turned to look at Conner, who had his full attention on you, and, God, it made you blush a slight purple.

"Shit, I'm rambling again. I know you don't want to hear me yap. Good, I feel like such a skeeze-"

"No, you're not," he said softly but firmly. It made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"What?~" you said, nervously

"I like your voice a lot, baby." Now, when he says it like that, it doesn't feel like a cute little nickname he came up with.

"And I like it especially when you talk about shit you like. You're so passionate about it; you don't see that with regular people. You're so genuine," he continues, getting closer. You turn away, covering your face. God, you're such a dork. He just wants to take you right here and now, but that would be unlawful.

"So what, you think I'm cool or something?" You laughed with a half-hearted smirk.

"I think you're amazing, babe," he answered, grabbing your face to look at him, and you laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. This made Conner laugh too.

"I'm trying to be smooth, and you're laughing at me!" Conner chuckled.

"Smooth? Yeah, right! You're as smooth as the acne on my forehead!" Then you both burst out laughing, your foreheads connecting. "Goofy-ass motherfucker!" you said in between giggles.

"Come on, baby, you know I've moved some; they say I've got rizz~" You pushed Test Baby to the side, snorting.

"Who the hell lied to your bum ass?" you snickered.

"No one!" He protested.

"Uh-huh," you pulled yourself closer to him, wrapping your long arms around his neck. "You have no game."

"You just don't want to admit I'm cooler than you," he quipped.

"In your clone dreams," you snapped playfully.

"You're in my cloned dreams," he said, your face getting uncomfortably close; it made you laugh.

"That shit was corny as hell," and you and Conner giggled some more; he felt your touch ever so gently.

"Can I?"

"Can you?"

He then pressed his lips to yours, and Conner could have sweated as he ascended to another state of being. Your lips tasted like buttered popcorn and cheap soda—something he loved more than anything, especially if that flavor was you. He pulled you closer, his hands wrapping around your slim waist. Your hand was now placed on his cheek as you felt him slowly start to get on top of you, and you let him. And shit, who cares if you're kissing your brother's best friend? He should have called dibs by now.

You gasp for air, but Conner doesn't let you recover. He presses his lips against you hard this time, passionately. He has kissed a whole ton of people before, which gives him the experience you lack. You feel him suck on your tongue, and you whimper just a little, shivering. Is this how it feels to kiss? ‘Cause if it is, God fucking bless! You feel his gloved hand reach underneath your Wonder Man hoodie. You grab his arm and pull away. He hears the great Superboy whine like a puppy, and it makes you snicker just a little. Your hand that was on his cheek moves to his now swollen lips.

"Kon, pay attention; this part is important. This is when Luffy fights Katakuri, and we get to see his Devil Fruit," you whispered against his lips. Da fuck? You stopped good kissing and touching for an anime fight??

Your lucky he thinks your hot.

(Made this one while listening to chapple roan God I love that little lesbian)

[daddy-issues-galore]

Let me fly you to the moon... Chapter 9/?

<Chapter 8< / >Chapter 10>

Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, sexting/nudes, unprotected sex, sex in front of a mirror, use of sex toys, sir kink, accidently use of daddy

The smell of coffee, and the sound of Noel’s voice woke you. It took you a couple of minutes to wake, letting out a tired yawn as you stretched before slowly untangling yourself from the crumpled bedsheets. You scowled at the light coming in from the hallway, the headache you had screaming for the light to piss off. You rolled over to face the bedside table where you found a bottle of water along with some painkillers and a note; I’ll have breakfast waiting x

You smiled to yourself as you forced yourself to sit up, groaning as your aching muscles protested. Fuck, what did we do last night?

After taking the painkillers and drinking most of the water, you slipped out of bed and grabbed Noel’s wrinkled shirt from the floor. You assumed Noel must be on the phone as you could hear him talking but you couldn’t hear anyone else. You slipped the shirt on and began making your way downstairs, the sound of Noel’s voice getting louder the closer you got to the kitchen.

Noel’s bare feet patted heavily across the tiled floor as he paced back and forth, dragging his hand through his hair and held his phone to his ear with the other. “What the fuck are you on ‘bout?” Noel huffed, “It’s not some fuckin’ gimmick to get people talkin’ ‘bout me…” His patience was wearing thin. His manager had called him about half an hour ago to tell him about that morning’s headlines. They were all talking about the pair of you and ‘the show’ you had put on for them. “She’s not a fuckin’ groupie... I fuckin’ like her, ‘lright… No. Do not tell anyone her name…” Noel huffed again. “Yeah, I know it was reckless of us last night but so what? I’m allowed to go on dates with me bird, ain’t I... Ya’ know what, I’m done. Fuck off!” Noel shouted and hung up. He leaned against the counter and let out a frustrated breath. He was furious.

Some of the things that had been written about the pair of you was ridiculous, and they made you sound like you were some gold-digging tart.

“Noel?”

Noel stood up and turned around to face you as you walked into the kitchen. His anger quickly faded as he looked at you. His eyes ran down your body, taking in the sight of you in his shirt, fresh out of bed, it was a sight he was becoming rather fond of. “Morning, love.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You pulled back with your own smile, blushing as you did. “Morning... what was all the shouting ‘bout?” You asked looking around the room.

Noel sighed softly, “Coffee?” He asked hoping to change the subject and walked over to the coffee machine.

You let out a soft sigh and walked up to him. “What’s wrong?”

Noel shook his head not looking at you, “Nothing.”

“I heard ya’ on the phone, Noel.”

Noel let out a heavy sigh before looking at you. “It was me manager. Apparently, we’re all over the front pages.”

“Ah,” You wore a worried frown as you looked down, “How bad is it? Just another picture of you staring at my ass or-” Noel showed you his phone that had an article loaded, your eyes widened as you looked at it. “Oh… that’s more than my arse.”

There under the headline, ‘Handsy Gallagher; Noel all over his new girl.’ – was a picture of you and Noel leaving the restaurant. The pair of you looked very very drunk. You had your arm around his waist laughing at something as Noel said something in your ear with his hand on your backside.

“It’s not too bad, I guess.” You looked up to him.

Noel frowned, “There’s more, love.”

You groaned. “I’m too hungover to deal with anything.” You leaned over the counter and dropped your head into your hands.

“You don’t need to worry ‘bout it, love. No one knows your name and I’ve told me manager to put anyone straight about the whole ‘groupie’ thing.” He let out a small chuckle.

“And that’s all fine until someone I know sees the pictures and decides to make some quick money by talking to the papers.”

Noel frowned, “M’sorry, love.”

You shook your head, “It was bound to happen, right?” You looked down at Noel’s phone and pressed another article link.

‘AKA… What a night! for Noel Gallagher’ – There was a picture of you and Noel sat in the back of his car with his arm around your shoulders. You were practically sat in Noel’s lap as the pair of you made out, completely unaware of your surroundings.

You groaned and put his phone down. “We must have been mega drunk last night. Behavin’ like a couple of teenagers.”

Noel chuckled, “I warned you I wasn’t gonna keep me hands to myself.” He pressed a kiss to your temple before walking over to the fridge. “What you want for breakfast?” He asked.

You raised your eyebrow and turned around to face him as he looked in the fridge, just noticing he was only wearing a pair of boxers and an undershirt. You smirked to yourself as you admired his arse. “Thought you said you couldn’t cook?”

“I can manage a bacon sarnie.” He smirked at you over his shoulder.

You nodded, “Bacon sarnie it is then.” You smiled.

As Noel set about cooking the bacon, you sorted the bread and plates. The two of you moved around the kitchen with ease like it was something you’ve been doing for years.

Noel had decided to go ahead to tonight’s venue before you in hopes to distract the press that had been waiting outside his place all day so you wouldn’t have to deal with them. The plan was for you to get there an hour or so before the show started, so you had plenty of time to relax and get ready. You had planned on having a bath in the extremely large bathtub with a glass of wine but then you discovered something in your suitcase that you hadn’t noticed before.

There, hidden away in one of the pockets of your suitcase, sat your pink vibrator and the butt plug. You definitely didn’t put them there which meant it had to be Noel.

You shook your head with a smirk, “The little-” You let out a small giggle, an idea popping into your head as you flicked your vibrator on.

Noel stood on stage strumming his guitar. They’d just finished practising ‘If I Had a Gun’ and as the others were busy tuning their instruments, Noel was playing around with a guitar rift that had been stuck in his head for a few days. The sound of his phone pinging in his pocket interrupted him. He pulled his phone out and began grinning; it was you.

Y/n: You alone? X

Noel: I’m practising, love x

Y/n: Yeah, but anyone looking over your shoulder? X

Noel: No. Why? x

Noel’s eyes widened, quickly holding his phone to his chest as he looked around to see if there was anyone looking over his shoulder before he took another look at his phone. Naughty girl, Noel thought as he looked over the photo of you. Your legs were spread with your vibrator slipped inside your pussy. You were clearly laid in the middle of Noel’s bed with his shirt still on. Noel had to readjust himself behind his guitar as he looked around him again.

Noel: You found it then x

Y/n: And what were you planning on doin with it? X

Noel: Having some fun with you x

Another photo popped up. You’d replaced the vibrator with two of your fingers but this time there was a glimpse of the butt plug nestled between your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Noel moaned.

“Chief?”

Noel looked up and quickly slipped his phone back in his pocket. “I, uh, need the loo.” Noel spun around keeping his guitar in front of him until he was by the side of the stage. At that moment he didn’t care what happened to his beloved guitar as he all but dropped it because all that mattered was dealing with his hard on.

A couple of hours later you were walking down the corridor of the venue backstage alongside Noel’s PA who had met you by the front of the venue. You were giddy and not just because you were buzzin’ with excitement for the show. Noel had tried ringing you after you sent your second photo, but you were ‘busy’, so you didn’t answer. It was safe to say he was worked up and you were excited to see what he would do.

You followed Noel’s PA into the band dressing room, your smile widening as your eyes immediately met Noel’s from where he stood. You greeted the other’s, ignoring Russell’s joke as you and Noel walked towards each other. “Hello.” You smiled innocently up at him.

“Enjoy your afternoon alone?” Noel asked, his gaze dark as he stared down at you.

You hummed, “Very much… you?” You smirked.

Noel let out a small growl, “It was a bit… hard.”

You giggled and looked up as Tim walked up to you with a drink. You thanked him as you took it from him. You could feel Noel’s eyes on you as you took a swig of your drink. “What?” You asked looking up at him.

Noel shook his head with a grin, “Nowt.” He looked you up and down, his smile widening. “You look good in a skirt.” He licked his bottom lip. “Real good.”

You looked around the two of you to make sure no one was near you before you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “I’m still wearing it.” You giggled.

Noel’s eyes widened as he met your eyes, “Seriously?” You nodded biting your bottom lip. Noel gulped and quickly took your hand in his, dragging you out of the dressing room without a care.

Your feet struggled to keep up with his large strides as he led you to what must be his dressing room. He opened the door and practically pushed you inside making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager.” You teased and slowly stepped back into the room, dropping your bag on the floor as you did.

Noel grunted as he slammed the door shut behind him. “You’ve had me fuckin’ hard all day,” He said as he stalked closer to you. “With all your teasin’… I’ve been a fuckin’ mess.”

“That was the idea.” You grinned, “It’s your own fault, Mr Gallagher.”

Noel’s eyes darkened and his Adams apple bobbed as he gulped. There was something about the way you called him ‘Mr Gallagher’ that got to him. He closed the gap between you by grabbing a hold of your hips and crashing his lips against yours.

You let out a heavy moan and wrapped your arms around Noel’s shoulders, letting his tongue enter your mouth. He began walking you backwards until you hit the back of the sofa that sat in the room, the kiss not breaking until you needed to breath.

Noel pulled back with a smirk. “You’ve been a bad girl today, haven’t you?” You let out a giggle as Noel’s hands moved down and squeezed your backside through your skirt.

“It’s good to be bad sometimes.” You leaned up and kissed him. “Have you ever fucked a girl with one in?” You asked as you softly laid kisses under his jaw.

Noel gulped, “... No...” He closed his eyes as you ran your tongue over his Adams apple and back up to his jaw.

You pulled back with a smirk, “Then this is your treat...” You turned around and bent over the back of the sofa. “You said you wanted to fuck me in this, didn’t you?” You wiggled your backside with a giggle making Noel grin.

He gathered the hem if your skirt and pushed up to your hips, moaning at the sight if your backside covered in black lace and silk. “This that new lingerie?” He asked as he stared at your backside. He could just about see the silver butt plug through the lace. His hard cock twitching at the sight. He never realised how much of an arse guy he was until you.

You nodded, “Do you like it?”

Noel looked at you with a smirk. “Take this off.” He ordered as he tugged on your Fred Perry.

You let out an excited giggle as you quickly pulled it over your head. You went to turn around to face Noel but he stopped you, pressing his chest to your back as he reached up and grabbed your throat, holding your face forwards. Your eyes met his in the large mirror that sat on the wall opposite the sofa.

“Look at how fucking gorgeous you are, love.” Noel whispered against your ear. His right hand gently stroked up your stomach until he reached your lace covered breasts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect, baby doll.” Noel cupped your left breast and ran his thumb over your nipple.

“Please, Noel, stop teasing.”

Noel smirked against your ear, “It’s not nice, is it?” He said and pinched your nipple making you moan loudly.

“Fine then, don’t fuck me before you go on stage. I’ll go stand in the crowd and find someone who will.” You sassed trying to move away from him.

Noel’s hand around your throat tightened as he stared into your eyes through the mirror, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Yer mine. You understand? Yer fuckin’ mine.” You gulped and nodded, pressing your thighs together. “Say it.” Noel ordered.

“I’m yours, Noel.”

Noel turned your face towards him and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was hot and messy, rough, full of passion and something more. The thought of what that something more could be scared you.

You pulled back panting and licked your lips, needing to rid your head of the thoughts, “Are you goin’ to fuck me or what, Mr Gallagher?”

Noel rolled his eyes with a smirk and let go of you, making quick work of his belt. “Perhaps I should put that smart mouth of yours to better use instead of fuckin’ you senseless.” He dropped his trousers and boxers revealing his hard, throbbing cock, the sight made your mouth water. Noel pushed you back over the sofa and moved your panties to the side.

“Just do something- fuck,” You moaned loudly, quickly covering your mouth with your hand as Noel tugged on the butt plug. Your eyes screwed shut as he played with it.

“What was that, love?” You could hear the smugness in his voice.

A needy whimper fell from your lips, muffled by your hand as Noel slipped two of his fingers through your throbbing cunt.

“Not so fuckin’ gobby now, are ya’?” Noel teased, a smug grin on his lips as he stepped closer. He took his cock in hand and slowly rubbed the head of it through your wet folds. “I want everyone to hear you, yeah? Let them know who you belong to.” Your back arched as he rubbed his length a little firmer against you.

“Oh, gahd-”

“Fuck! Gonna fuck you so good, baby doll.” Noel moaned as his length slipped between your pussy, every inch of him getting coated in your juices. “Gonna fill you up, nice and full with my cock.” He groaned loudly as he grabbed your arse cheeks in his hands firmly, pulling them apart before he slowly slid his cock inside you.

The two of you moaned loudly in unison, Noel’s cock slowly inched inside of your cunt, sending shivers down your spine as it pressed against the butt plug. Noel’s eyes screwed shut as he tried to calm himself, the new feeling almost too much for him, but he’d be damned if he let this finish too soon.

Noel looked up into the mirror and met your already half lidded eyes. You were wrecked already. “You ‘kay, love?”

You nodded. “Please, Noel, move.” You panted, giving your hips a little wiggle making Noel hiss.

Noel began to move at a slow pace. He slipped his cock all the way in until his balls were flush against you. He paused for a moment, watching you in the mirror as you got lost in the pleasure before he began to pull back just as slow, squeezing a little tighter on your firm cheeks as he did so. He continued at this slow pace for a couple more thrust until you reached back and grabbed his left hand with yours.

“Faster, Noel. Please.” You begged, your eyes pleaded with his through the mirror.

Noel gulped and came to a stop, his cock once more fully inside you making you whimper, “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.” He worried.

You shook your head, panting, “You won’t... I trust you.” You gave him a soft smile, your fingers curling around his.

Noel nodded. He set of at a slow pace, gradually he began to move a little faster until he allowed himself to let lose, your pleasured moans spurring him on. “Fuck, baby.” Noel breathed deeply as he pushed harder into you sending another set of moans leaving your lips.

“God… daddy… s’good.” You cried out, lost in the pleasure.

Noel watched your reflection, his eyes focused on your breasts as they bounce with each thrust. He bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked your harder and faster. The sofa slowly began to scrap across the floor, the sound mixing with pleasured moans and heavy breathing.

“Yes! Oh God, yes!” You cried out loudly, the feeling of Noel bumping the butt plug inside your asshole as his cock moved in and out of your pussy made you feel amazing. “Shit! So close-“ you whimpered as you reached back and pressed your fingers against your clit.

Noel clenched his teeth as he felt you squeeze around his cock. “Fuck… Fuck… I-” Noel’s eyes closed tight as you came, your pussy squeezing his cock tighter. “Fuck!” Noel stilled as he cried out and came deep inside.

You let out a tired giggle as Noel collapsed over your back, his arms sliding around you as he did. Noel smirked against your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty skin.

“Uh, Noel,” You giggled as Noel hummed against your skin. “I can’t breathe.” You giggled.

“Shit. Sorry.” Noel slowly pushed himself up and carefully pulled out of you. Noel looked down between your legs and felt his cheeks flush as he watched his cum spill out of you. “Uh, there’s jm, towels and stuff in there if you want to clean up.” Noel nodded to the small bathroom that was in his dressing room.

You blushed and nodded, carefully walking over, closing the door behind you. You faced the large mirror and just stared at your reflection. What the fuck. A smile curled at your lips as you thought about what had just happened.

You quickly set about cleaning up, redressing yourself and removing the butt plug before you headed back out to where Noel was sat on the sofa that was still in the same place you had left it, the thought why making you blush even more. Noel had also redressed and was sat on his phone. He looked up with a smile, his eyes falling to the butt plug that sat in your hand and began blushing too. You bit your bottom lip as you walked over to join him on the sofa and grabbed your bag from where you had dropped it.

Noel cleared his throat as you put it away. “That’s not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to have some fun with ya’.” Noel smirked.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Did you want to use it?”

Noel’s eyes widened comically making you laugh. “What? No.” He scoffed all flustered.

You laughed harder, “M’sorry. Your face… Fuck, you’re cute when you get flustered.” You said making Noel blush even more. “M’sorry,” You turned in your seat to face him, throwing your legs over his. “What did you mean?”

Noel rolled his eyes trying not to smile as he placed his hand on your knee and stroked his hand along your thigh. “I just meant, in bed. But this was fuckin’ way better.” Noel winked at you making you grin.

[bellamyblake]

Bellamy Blake appreciation week 2025

Day 7: Free choice: Bellamy calling out Clarke's name

Headcanon moment: He first started doing it after she left when they destroyed Mount Weather. He'd have nightmares, most of them ending with Octavia and Clarke getting melted right before him with his hand on the lever. Then there were others, even more horrible ones when he was in the forest and he was watching Clarke get torn apart by wolves or mountain lions or whatever twisted creature was out there while he was tied up to a trie unable to move. A lot of them were with the two of them standing on top of a pile of bodies, her looking at him, telling him she had to go as her face somehow started getting covered in blood and she fell down with the rest of the bodies in his feet. So many really...he couldn't count them even if he tried. He had stopped sleeping and only took on night guard shifts so that at night nobody would hear him scream in his room. At first Octavia, Monty or Harper would come by and ask if he was okay, his sister the most worried out of them all but he quickly shrugged her off. When he figured he was yelling too loudly, he shoved a piece of cloth in his mouth so he wouldn't be heard or covered himself with the pillow instead of sleeping on top of it. He quickly realized that he could avoid everyone when he took night guard shifts and "slept" during the day. He could barely catch more than twenty minutes, half an hour at best before he woke up. He was exhausted and he barely funcitoned but to everyone else he pulled up a brave face. He went on recon missions, he chopped woods, he hunted when he wasn't working and he took care of the kids in his own quiet way because he had promised her that. At night he lay on the floor-chest against the ground, pillow above his head and he woke up every time with her name on his lips, crying and most of all with his heart aching. It hurt so much, in the literal sense, it skipped beats and he felt light headed and when he couldn't breathe well, he would place his hand there and close his eyes. By then he had been thinking of her and talking to his broken heart and every time he did that he saw her before him as if she was truly there. "Hey, Clarke." he started talking to her at night when he couldn't sleep or when he was at the gates doing a shift. "Today's been hard. Jasper's not fine, we found him passed out outside the gates. He's lucky he wasn't attacked by an animal or the grounders. He drinks all the time now. Sometimes I take a glass or two of moonshine myself but it does nothing to fix things, nor does it help me sleep. Monty is plagued by nightmares like me and Harper still has trouble walking. The kids don't like it here, they ask me if we could go back to the dropship, just us but I shake my head. I can't do it without you there. I couldn't keep them whole and together. I can barely do that with myself. They don't know, nobody does...I worry what I'll do if one day it gets to be too much and I can't keep myself above water. I won't let it happen, though. I made you a promise." he'd rub his chest "I hope wherever you are, you are safe. I miss you." he wanted to add one more sentence, the one that truly meant everything but he couldn't, not even when he was talking to himself, he couldn't do it. He thought it, though and he looked up at the night sky above him-she was out there and she'll always be with him no matter what. He just had to remember that.

[blueskrugs]

I Know I Could Have Loved You | Brock Boeser

at long last, it's here! this is my fic for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange, written for @one-night-story! Once again, I am SO sorry this is a bit late, but I had a really brutal week.

I hope you enjoy!!

length: 2000 words

You met Brock Boeser in 2015 when you were both freshmen at the University of North Dakota.

He wasn't your best friend at first. 

In fact, he'd rolled his eyes and when you were forced to partner with him for a stupid project in your intro to stats course. You don't remember exactly when he did become your friend, but  before you knew it your weekends were spent watching hockey games, then going out for fast food french fries with Brock, or lounging in each other's dorm rooms while you did homework. (Or while you did homework, and Brock pretended to do his own.) 

You don't know when you fell in love with Brock Boeser, either, just that you did.

Brock dated a few people while at UND, like most of the hockey players did. They stuck around for a few weeks or months before disappearing. Brock never bothered to introduce you to any of them. You tried to not let it bother you. 

“You should move to Vancouver, "Brock said suddenly one summer day. He'd signed his ELC just a few months prior—instead of returning to UND with you in the fall, he’d be off to Vancouver for training camp with the Canucks. 

You were both tanning by the lake, and you lowered your sunglasses to look sideways at Brock. He wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Brock, some of us have to actually finish college before getting a job," you said. You still had 2 years before graduation. "And why the hell should I move to Vancouver?"

Brock shrugged, all forced nonchalance. "Well, I'll be there."

You scoffed. "Sure, from October to April." You didn't know anyone in Vancouver, excluding Brock, who only counted during hockey season anyway.

"But I'll miss you," Brock argued. "What am I supposed to do without you?"

"I think you'll manage just fine, Boes," you told him. "You survived this long without me before we met, didn't you? You can keep surviving now, too."

Brock pouts at you, but doesn't argue the point further, so you think that's the end of it. You put your sunglasses back in place on the bridge of your nose and settle back against your chair. You can’t deny that it leaves a nice fuzzy feeling in your chest that Brock thinks he’ll miss you so much that he’s begging you to join him in Vancouver.

Brock doesn’t bring it up again that summer, or for the next two years as you’re finishing up college, and you forget about the whole thing. The years pass; you graduate. 

Brock comes to your graduation party, kisses you on the cheek, and spends the afternoon charming your parents and your friends from high school and from UND. Brock always manages to stay within your orbit, never more than arm’s reach away from you. It’s nice, to have him back at your side like this. 

It's only when the party is over and Brock is helping clean up that he springs the question on you again.

"Have you thought about it at all?" he asks, apropos of absolutely fucking nothing.

You've had a few drinks, and it takes your brain a few seconds to catch up. "What?" you ask. "Thought about what?"

“Moving to Vancouver with me."

You already have a job lined up in your hometown. You haven't thought even once of moving to Vancouver instead.

"Brock, I can't just move to another country."

"What if I want you to?“

"Oh, sure, that will go over well on a visa application. ‘Because my bestfriend wants me to.’"

Brock sticks his tongue out at you.

"You should at least come and visit me," he pleads, "I really think you'll love it."

You roll your eyes at Brock. "I guess I can make time to visit,” you say, ignoring Brock's exaggerated cheer before he squishes you into a hug.

Brock manages to talk you into visiting him in June, because—in his words— "It's prettier in the summer."

He's not exactly wrong, you have to admit, after a week of traipsing around the city with Brock. You're watching a firework show with your head on Brock's shoulder when you realize you're starting to picture yourself in Vancouver, starting a real life here.

"D'you really think I could get a job here?” you murmur to Brock during a pause in the fireworks.

"What?” Brock asks. He turns to you. His blond hair glows in the light of the fireworks overhead. "Never mind,” you whisper back.

You begin searching for jobs in Vancouver that night, in the quiet darkness of Brock's spare bedroom.

Before you know it, you've lined up the perfect job—even better than the one you'd originally found back home, not that you'll ever tell Brock that—and Brock has helped you find an apartment in the city. 

"It's not far from me,” Brock had told you when he was helping you move in, "so you can come over and walk Milo and Coolie whenever."

"Oh, is that the real reason you wanted me to move out here?” you tease. "Free dog walking?"

Brock shrugs innocently but chuckles. "Well, I need someone to watch them when we're on road trips and stuff.”

You throw a wad of bubble wrap at him.

Later, while you and Brock are eating pizza on your living room floor, Brock flops into his back and sighs. You poke him in the head with your foot.

"You good, buddy?” you ask.

"What do you think of dating apps?” Brock says, which isn't really an answer.

You've always been too scared to try dating apps yourself. Instead of telling Brock that, you say, "You're a professional athlete.” And a very attractive one, but you don’t say that part. "What do you need dating apps for?”

Brock looks up at you from his sprawl on your floor. "Because I'm tired of being single?” he asks.

You flip him off. You don't say, I'm single, too, you could always date me. You got used to putting aside your feelings for Brock a long time ago.

"And you think dating apps are the solution? You didn't have any issues getting people to date you in North Dakota.”

Brock rolls his eyes. "I didn't play for the Canucks, then. It's all people I meet now seem to care about.”

You're still not sure how dating apps will solve that problem.

As if he hears your unspoken question, Brock continues. "At least this way, I can weed out puck bunnies or whatever a lot faster, instead of wasting my time.” He cranes his neck around so he can look at you directly. "So will you help me or not?” 

You think you'd rather get stabbed directly in the heart than to help Brock date someone else, but you never could say no to him.

"Fine, whatever,” you say. "Gimme your phone.” 

You're already regretting your decision less than ten minutes later as you watch Brock scroll through his camera roll to add pictures to his profile.

"You can't use your official headshot!” you tell him, trying to snatch his phone. "People are going to think they're getting catfished.”

"I don't have a lot of good pictures of myself!” Brock protests.

You've nixed three more photos—all pictures Brock has evidently stolen from the team's social media—("Why the hell do you save all these, anyway?”)—when Brock throws his hands up and passes you his phone.

"You do it then,” he tells you.

Brock's own camera roll is obviously useless, so you pull out your own phone. It only takes a few minutes of scrolling for you to pluck a handful of good photos out of your camera roll and Airdrop them to Brock. He's looking at you a little strangely when you hand his phone back.

"What?” you ask.

"I didn't know you took so many pictures of me,” he says. 

"I don't take that many,” you defend weakly. It's not like you have an entire album on your phone of pictures of him, or anything. 

Brock drops the subject, but you still feel uneasy as you continue helping him finish his profile. The two of you spend almost an hour bickering over which prompts to choose or the answers Brock writes for them before Brock deems his profile "good enough”.

"'Good enough?'” you argue. “This profile is a masterpiece,” you declare. "We'll get you cuffed in time for Christmas.”

Brock snorts at you. "All thanks to you,” he says, smacking a kiss to your cheek.

You try not to feel any particular way about it.

Brock spends the next few weeks bringing you his dating app matches to "approve.” He even shows you some of the funny ones—mostly girls tripping over themselves for the chance to sleep with The Brock Boeser of the Vancouver Canucks. He gets a lot of matches. 

You try to muster the appropriate enthusiasm for Brock, as he seems to be throwing himself into this endeavor with all the energy he throws into hockey.

It's hard, though, when all you can do is compare yourself to them. You wonder what Brock sees in them that he’s never seen in you.

Brock never seems to notice if your encouragement is lackluster.

Matches turn into a revolving door of first dates for Brock. A few times, first dates turn into second dates, and even into a third date or two. 

You force yourself to stop obsessively keeping track of his dates, and to pretend like each date he goes on doesn't drive the knife even deeper into your heart.

Brock's in the middle of telling you about his latest date—you think he’s been seeing this person for nearly a month—when he stops abruptly in the middle of a sentence.

"Are you okay?” he asks.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?” you say. It doesn’t sound very confident, even to your ears. 

"You've got that look on your face, the one where you're mad at me, but trying to pretend that you're not.”

You try to arrange your face into something more neutral.

"I'm not mad at you, Brock,” you say. You don't think he believes you. 

"So why do you always get all—” Brock gestures vaguely at your face. “—pissy whenever I talk about my dates?”

"I do not! And besides, I didn't know moving to Vancouver meant a front row seat to your dating life! Don't you have teammates to talk about this shit with?”

Brock scoffs. "They don't care about my dating life, and, apparently, neither do you.” 

"Brock, it's not that I don't care—” 

Brock cuts you off. "Then what is it?”

"I care too much!”

"What?” he says.

"Dammit, Brock, why don't you want to date me?” you snap.

Brock shakes his head. You probably shouldn't have said that.

"What do you mean?” he asks slowly.

"You heard me the first time, Boeser. Why are you searching all over Vancouver for someone to date when I've been here the whole time?” 

Brock takes a step closer to you. You take a step backwards; your kitchen is small, and you end up trapped against the counter.

"The whole time? "Brock repeats dumbly.

You could slap him. "Yes, Brock. Boy, it's a good thing you're pretty and good at hockey, because you can be really stupid sometimes.”

"Hang on,” Brock says. He's moved even closer. "How was I supposed to know?”

"Do you think I'd more to another country for anyone?” you ask.

"Oh,” Brock says. Then he says, "For how long?”

"Huh?”

“How long have you been in love with me?” Brock asks.

“I don't know, sometime freshman year, I guess.” There was never really a lightbulb moment for you; your feelings for Brock grew and morphed so slowly you almost didn't notice until it was too late.

Brock kisses you then, crushing you up against the cabinets with the force of it. His hands are warm on your hips, his lips gentle and firm against yours.

You pull away, a little breathless.

Brock grins at you. “If I had known this was an option, I would have kissed you a long time ago.”

"So, can we delete that dating app now?” you ask, forehead resting on Brock's shoulder.

"We can do whatever you want,” Brock says, leaning in to kiss you again.

You suppose deleting his dating profile can wait a little while.

[honeycrispappletree]

ivy // hajime iwaizumi ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ

masterlist

part 12: baby came home

by: the neighborhood

Everything already had a slight, blurry haze as yn walked into Smalls. She’d pre-gamed of course,and now the whole band was here, back at the place where it all started.

Back where oikawa had thrown up on the cute bartender. Classic.

She giggles as she overhears kageyama complaining—him and akaashi got dragged along. The hum of the bar, the chatter of her friends, and the sticky floors all ease the tension in her chest.

“LET'S GET TO IT, LADIES!” bokuto yells, charging for the bar. akaashi shakes his head but follows, turning to the group, “Cut him off after three.”

kuroo, who’s been waiting to say this all night, grins wide. “Let’s go talk to that bartender, huh, oikawa? You talked a big game on the way here.”

oikawas swallows nervously, backing away. “That was kinda a hypothetical thing, you know, I wasn’t really—”

“You’re doing it,” kuroo says with a grin, pulling him along toward the bar.

The group breaks off, leaving yn, iwaizumi and kageyama together.

“This group is just too predictable,” Iwaizumi chuckles, throwing an arm around YN and pulling her into the crowd. He glances over his shoulder at Kageyama, “Want a drink, Kags?”

“I’m gonna have the bartender make one for me and tell her all about Oikawa,” kageyama says with a mischievous grin before disappearing into the crowd, heading to the bar.

“That kid kind of scares me sometimes,” YN mutters, half-joking.

“He’s evil, I’m telling you,” Iwaizumi laughs.

“Let’s gooo sitttt, Hajiiiii!” yn slurs, tapping his arm. “We need to catch up.”

“We didn’t talk for, like, only a week,” he responds, pinching her shoulder playfully. She flinches.

“A lot can happen in a week.” She flashes him that warm smile he loves- the way her eyes crinkle and her head tilts just slightly, always to the left. It always makes his heart skip a beat.

iwaizumi rolls his eyes but smiles. “Yeah, yeah, you win.”

He pulls her toward a booth, squeezing her shoulder tighter. Neither of them can help but wonder if the bar's AC has suddenly broken.

An hour and seventeen minutes later, kuroo somehow manages to convince everyone to play pool. bokuto is swinging the cue stick around like a weapon while kageyama dodges it, trying not to get his nose broken. akaashi is furrowing his brows in irritation, explaining to oikawa that ‘game pigeon 8-ball’ is nothing like actual pool. This commotion continues as iwaizumis turn comes up. He squints at the ball, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. He focuses, eyes narrowig as he lines up the shot.

He flicks his eyes toward yn for a split second before shooting the stick forward. He misses. Frustrated, he slams the cue stick against the felt.

“This game is fucking stupid, Kuroo,” he mutters, sliding to the other side of the table to make room for Kageyama.

yn laughs, her voice light. “You’d be beating everyone’s ass at 8-ball right now.”

“Yeah, because I cheat and use the screenshot ruler,” he teases, nudging her side.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” yn says, pushing herself off the pool table and heading across the bar to order a refill.

She leans against the counter, arms folded, watching the bartender juggle orders. A strange sense of deja vu washes over her—like she’s been in this exact moment before. But before she can place it, a familiar voice cuts through the noise and does it for her.

“Hey, YN.”

Her heart drops. She doesn’t need to turn around to know that pair of gray eyes is burning through her skull , but she does anyway.

“osamu,” she says, her voice faltering slightly as she forces a smile.

He cocks his head, his voice laced with bitterness, “Haven’t heard from you in a minute. Where ya been?”

yn forces herself to look him in the eye. Her green eyes clash with his dull gray ones, and she feels a chill run down her neck.

“Just been busy,” she says, fidgeting with her nails, dancing around the ghost between them.

He tilts his head up, scanning her, before glancing at her friends laughing at the pool table.

“Looks like you’ve rebuilt some bridges,” he scoffs, a slight edge to his tone.

yn inhales sharply, keeping her voice steady. “Yeah, the band’s important to me... so, this whole thing?” She shakes her head, “It’s just not gonna work out.”

osamu makes a ‘tch’ sound, narrowing his eyes. “They didn’t seem so important when you ditched them.”

yn mirrors his gaze, her voice cold. “Clouded judgment, I guess.” She’s playing with fire, but she can’t help but throw back her own flames.

osamu steps closer, and she feels her breath hitch. He smirks, leaning in. “You’re gonna regret that, you kn-”

Before he can say anything else, iwaizumis hand grips the back of his shirt, tugging him backward. yn takes a step back, her spine hitting the bar as she watches iwaizumi shove him—then punch him square in the fucking nose.

osamu collapses to the floor, and iwaizumis already on top of him, fist digging into his face. yn watches in a mixture of shock and panic as osamu claws at iwaizumi’s face, desperately trying to get in whatever damage he can. kageyama and bokuto are immediately on the scene, quickly pulling iwaizumi off, shouting at him to calm the hell down.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, ya damn psycho!” osamu spits, blood dripping from his nose, his face twisted in anger as he slowly gets up with help from a random witness.

iwaizumi swings an arm free, pointing at osamus chest. “Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?”

iwaizumi doesn’t say another word before his friends start dragging him away, the crowd murmuring about calling the cops.

The cold night air hits the group as they spill out onto the street. They all stand there, panting from the chaos and adrenaline inside. iwaizumi wipes the blood from his knuckles onto his cargo pants, muttering curses under his breath.

It’s quiet. Nobody knows what to say-nobody except yn, that is.

She’s trying to stifle her laugh, but the noise still escapes out of her mouth, and the group looks over in shock.

“Are you fucking laughing?” iwaizumi scoffs, eyes wide as he winces at the slice on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I really-“ yn laughs again, covering her mouth. “He just- he looked like he was about to cry- and your face was sooo fucking red-“

kuroo turns away, his head in his hands, trying not to lose it. But it’s already too late. bokuto and kageyama are giggling like mad, and oikawa and akaashi can’t stop chuckling either. The laughter suddenly becomes contagious, and nobody can seem to shut the fuck up.

iwaizumi shakes his head as everyone laughs around him, and he finally starts to crack too. His knuckles sting, his head’s throbbing, but he can’t help it.

They’re all leaning on each other, breathless from laughing so hard. He sighs in relief of the tense interaction and turns to yn. He pulls her in , his arm wrapping around her neck as he rests his chin on the top of her hair.

“You good?” he asks, smiling like he can’t believe this is even a real situation right now.

yn giggles lightly, her voice breathy. “Yeah, I’m alright. Are you?”

iwaizumi winces as his cheek throbs and blood smears on his hands, but as he looks around at his friends and at her, he feels better than he has in a long time.

“Never better.”

more!

while this fight broke out oikawa was at the bar finally rizzing up the bartender and he was like hahha oh shit bar fight and they were laughing and this face went dead and he went oh fuck thats iwaizumi and he ran over yelling CALL MEEE LATER

soulmates

iwaizumi w some bruises.... LAWWDDDD

yn has a horrible habit of laughing in serious situations

she doesnt get scared of anything but she was SWEATING at osamu

you know this whole ordeal is on the college barstool

naturally

bokuto didnt want to pull him off but kageyama was like r u fucking kidding me help me

taglist: @v1oletfury @solzscribblez@iluvmang @nitasplace @wave2mia @jadeoru @walllflowerrrsss @tespho @piapiaweee3 @illuzminate @kr1nqu @itsdragonius @soulfullystarry @diorzs @honeyfewr @akaashislove @phoenix-eclipses @nnnyxie @vivianne666 @gigiiiiislife @hqandjjklover @ji9starrr @blueballslock @makki0s @s6rine

a/n: ivy... almost completed.... why am i sad. THEYRE SOO IN LOVE OOOOOOOO KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEEE. i love violence. ok thats it bye

[mooniema]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Se-mi x reader hcs

pairing ; Se-mi x f!reader

summary ; just some hcs of mine of what a relationship with Se-mi would be in a world, where she never participated in the games

warnings ; shitty writing i guess and she might be a little ooc idk

a/n ; why do they always kill the wuh luh wuhs

Men dni

Before your relationship:

When you first saw her, your breath was taken away by how cool she was

Not only her appearance with her pretty face, effortlessly styled hair, cool outfits, piercings on her face and rings on her fingers, but also her whole demeanor and vibe

It's no surprise, it was hard for you to approach her

When you finally managed to talk to her, you quickly found out, that she isn't as intimidating as her looks make it seems. Atleast not to you

You quickly developed a fat crush on her, after you started spending a lot of time with her (typical wlw behaviour)

You didn't think she would like you back, especially cause she still seems distant and never really opens up to you, although you noticed that she seems to have some problems with how troubled and stressed she often is

She, on the other hand, didn't confess, because she doesn't want you to get involved with her debt

But one night, when you both were in a bar and drunk, she saw someone else trying to make a move on you, she couldn't resist interfering

Especially cause you looked uncomfortable

That night, you two talked a lot and it ended with drunken confessions and you sleeping at her place, where she woke you up with breakfast

One week after that, she took you out on a date and you two got together

In your relationship:

Your first date would be a rather calm one

She´d come to your home to pick you up with your favorite flowers and then she´d go shopping with you and take you somewhere nice to eat afterwards

She is a very affectionate and caring lover

Doesn´t matter if its in public or in private, dhe always finds a way to be close to you and touch you

She doesn´t mind pda at all if it´s not straight up making out in front of other people

If you do pda or not all depends on you and your boundaries

In private she is even more touchy and clings onto you often

She just really likes being near you and feeling your skin under her touch

She is also a very protective person, when it comes to your loved ones

If someone makes you uncomfortable, she will be by your side in a matter of seconds, her arm around your shoulders and shamelessly flirting with you

If they don´t get the hint then she´ll get more blunt about it and if they don´t stop by then, she starts threatening them

While she knows you can handle yourself, she´d rather handle creeps herself

She is also someone, who doesn´t get really jealous

After all she is a very confident person and she trusts you

But she does prefer it, if your attention is on her

If you don´t pay enough attention to you, she´ll be a lot more flirty and touchy towards you to get your attention

Arguments with her are rather rare

And even if you both do have a disagreement, she tends to stay calm and collected, rarely snapping on you

If she does notice that you are getting more heated, then she´ll convinve you, that you should both talk again once you have calmed down

Once you are calm again, she´ll sit down with you to talk calmly about the situation

If she is in the wrong, she´ll quickly apologize to you and makes it up to you

Her main love languages are physical touch and quality time

Acts of service:

She really enjoys doing little things for you like tying your shoe laces, going out at night to get you your favorite snacks, bringing your favorite drink everywhere so you stay hydrated or holding your bags, when you want to go shopping, she got you covered

If she notices, that you are stressed, she´ll surprise you with a nice bath and wash your hair and will also try to help you with the task, thats stressing you out

Will also definitely nurse you back to health when you are sick

Quality time:

She really loves this one

Spending time with you is one of the things, that keeps her grounded

When spending time with you and going on dates, she really likes to do the more fun ones like going to an amusement park, but she also likes stuff like movie nights with you, where you can both relax together in your home

She also just enjoys being around you, while you two do different things

Physical touch:

Girl is soooo touchy

Always finds a way to touch you somehow

Her touch is so gentle like you are glass, which is easy to break

Her kisses are soft, but also passionate, although they tend to get a little fast paced if things get heated

Making out with her, she is not afraid to mark you

Leaving hickeys, that are hard to cover

She also likes to bury her hands in your soft hair, while making out

Gift giving:

She loves giving you little gifts and often comes home with flowers in her arms or a nice little bracelet for you

One time she gifted you a CD, which contains songs, that she played for you (i feel like she would play guitar)

Words of affirmation;

She is really good with words, knowing just how to cheer you up and motivate you

Your number 1 biggest supporter

She always makes sure you know, how loved you are and that she is always by your side and here to help you with your dreams

[deans-baby-momma]

Chapter 4

Summary: When Jensen admits to going home with someone else, will his and Y/N's marriage survive?

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, language

Over the next few days, you and Jensen work on your relationship; him apologizing profusely for the whole ordeal.

You just want to forget about it and move on. All marriages have bumps in the road, none were ever paved with smooth sailing.

But alas, you can't just forget because you have meetings with the lawyer plus Jensen asks you to accompany him for support when he meets with the showrunners to set the story straight.

Jensen explains the situation to Andrew Dabb, Sera Gamble, and Jeremy Carver along with Robert Singer, Philip Sgriccia and a few other producers in the conference room at the studio.

They all agree that while the subject matter wasn't the best of news they are behind him 100%.

After the meeting is over, Jensen kisses Y/N thanking her for being there before he heads to set to film.

On the way home, Y/N decides to stop at her favorite bistro to grab a drink and a light lunch. But the lunch is soon forgotten.

Y/N steps up to the counter, smiling at the young man behind the counter. His name is Brad according to the nametag.

“Hi. Can I get a cup of your Raspberry tea and a turkey in rye with cold jack cheese?”

“Sure,” Brad says as he punches in the order. “Will that be all?”

“Yes,” she says as she hands over her credit card.

He hands her a cup of the chosen beverage and she slides out of the way to wait for the sandwich.

The bistro isn't very large, just a few tables sat in the middle of the open space with a couple of booths along the back wall.

There are a few people sitting further away from the front, enjoying their food or just talking amongst themselves. Y/N pays them no mind as she takes a drink of her tea.

A group of five girls walk in and are standing in line, waiting their turn to order. Y/N notices Brad behind the counter, looks at them and a smile forms on his face.

He is apparently very enamored with one or more of the females

Y/N turns to silently watch the scene unfold in front of her.

“I can't believe you,” one of the girls says.

“Well, believe it.”

“So, do we get the juicy details? You've been incognito since that night,” one of the other girls prods.

“Let's order and then I'll tell you everything,” the blonde says. They step up to the counter and order coffees and pay, not paying any mind to Brad.

‘Poor thing,’ Y/N thinks as he hands them each their order and they walk away to sit at the nearest table.

“Okay, spill. How did you get him back to your apartment?”

“I told him I had an album I wanted him to sign-” the blonde confesses. “But I had left it at home. He was just drunk enough to believe me. He offered to come home with me to sign it.”

Y/N holds her breath as she realizes just who she is eavesdropping on. This is her, Athena Haligan, the girl who claims to be pregnant by her husband.

Y/N studies the group, they all look so young to her. Not a single one of them looks to be over 30, more like early to mid-20s.

“So, we get back to the house and I invite him in. He makes himself at home on my sofa. I go to my cabinet to look for the album and while I'm bent over, he comes up behind me, grabs my hips and just begins rutting into me. Like he is hard and he’s pressing up against me.”

Y/N squeezes her fingers around the cup in her hand but continues to listen.

“So I stand up and turn around and he kisses me. It was soft and sensual and dreamy.”

The four girls swoon and Y/N rolls her eyes.

“He tells me he noticed me as soon as he got to the bar and that he wanted to get to know me better. And I can tell by the way he says it, he wants to fuck.”

“Wait,” one of the girls interrupts. “Isn't he married?”she almost looks skeptical of her friend.

“Yea but I’ll get to that in a minute. Anyway, we kiss and he starts running his hands all over, grabbing my tits and my ass and before I know it, he has his hands down my pants and is playing with me,” she shoots her cronies an evil grin.

“I tell him I wanna suck his dick so he pulls back and unbuttons his jeans and pulls it out. Girrrl, the ‘dick flop of doom’ video wasn't lying! It's huge! So I dropped to my knees and blew him.”

“You did not!” one of the girls exclaims, but Y/N can’t be sure which one because she also has the hint of a buzzing in her ears, as though her body knows she doesn’t want to hear this conversation anymore.

Athena ignores the protest and continues. “Then he bent me over the couch and fucked me hard. He was spouting crap like ‘Baby you're the best pussy I've ever had.’-” Athena lowers her voice to a deep timbre “-and you're so tight. Gonna fill you up, It was a scene right out of a Tumblr fanfic,” she continued with the biggest grin.

The girls all swoon again as Y/N feels like there is smoke coming from her ears. This little bitch sitting here, lying about fucking Jensen when she knows good and well it ain't true.

“Did you let him?”

Athena laughs and looks at her questioning friend. “What do you think, Krissi. I'm pregnant, aren't I? I mean, it didn't take long for him to get there, but my god, that man knows what he's doing. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was the best sex I've ever had!

“Unfortunately,” Athena continues, her tone sad. “As soon as he was done, he pulled out and called someone to come get him. Roughly a half hour and bam, I'm pregnant.”

The sound of a cup dropping to the floor interrupts the friends as they all turn to see a woman's figure quickly exiting the shop.

Athena shrugs and then turns back to her friends.”I'm going to get every red cent I can.”

NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW:

“Y/N, I swear.” Jensen said, pleading. “I've only been with you.”

“Somehow, I don't believe you’” Y/N cries before turning back to the bed, where her suitcase lays open, half packed. “I'm going to Candy's for a few days. I can't be around you right now.”

Jensen seethes as he stands in the doorway. “Fine! You don't believe that I didn't fuck her? You want to think I'd throw all of this away for a cheap piece of ass? Go ahead. I am done trying to prove to you that I've been loyal since we began dating.”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Tagging: @spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @ironreviewangel @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70 @nancymcl @muhahaha303 @justwhisperingfantasies @jackles010378 @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deanna45 @ozwriterchick @mandee7 @spnaquakingdom @impala67rollinhtgroughtown @generalmoonpolice @1313diana @roseblue373 @palerogue1 @deansimpalababy

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast Prompt 9: Curiosity & The Copycat

for the Tales from Athendrolyn Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: mentioned animal neglect, mentioned poor husbandry

Every year, Clemmeck signed up to vend a booth at the Athendrolyn Exotic Pet Breeder’s Convention, and every year he loved it to bits. It was the biggest convention in the country for exotic animal breeders of all kinds— snakes, lizards, frogs, invertebrates, mimics, phoenixes, jackalopes, wolpertingers, and more. Having attended the convention as a guest for nearly a decade, and as a mimic breeder for even longer, he wouldn’t trade his attendance for the world.

Clemmeck had a routine after all these years. It set up its display at the earliest available time, brought snacks to its booth neighbors, and even picked up another animal or two over the course of the weekend. After so many conventions, the other regulars recognized him from his decorations alone.

That wasn’t necessarily difficult, though. The logo for his business, Music Box Exotics, was meant to be attention grabbing, the sign shifting through the spectrum of colors. He made sure to give all his available mimics nametag stickers on the fronts of their temporary enclosures, along with their weight and hatch date. And if any passing guest happened to miss all that, the sparkly tablecloth enchanted to shift around like the night sky was sure to catch someone’s interest.

Clemmeck might go overboard every year, but the trouble was worth it. Since it started breeding mimics as a hobby, it spiraled into a career, its love of animals taken to one of many logical conclusions: creating more animals, and ensuring they all had loving homes to live out their days in. He wanted to be able to sit behind his booth on his stool and be proud of his display—and this year, like every year, he definitely was.

“Morning, Clemmeck,” greeted his booth neighbor this year. Ze was a goblin named Klazzia, another regular hosting zir own kingsnake breeding business, Klazzia Kings.

“Happy Friday,” he greeted, swinging his feet off his stool.

“Not quite yet.” Ze stretched out with a skinny arm and handed over a paper cup of coffee, one of the two in zir hands. “It will be after you drink this, trust me.”

“Thank you kindly!” Clemmeck hopped down from his stool to take it, gnomish hands easily swallowing zirs up. He turned it around to admire the label, a red-orange bird with its wings spread. “Oh, from Phoenix Caffeine?”

“Yep, they set up a booth at the front of the hall again this year.” Klazzia took a sip from zir own cup. “I thought I’d grab us something with a little juice before the real crowd arrives.”

“Thank you again for thinking of me, I very much appreciate it.” He sipped from the cup and hummed in approval. “And I’ll have to thank the folks at Phoenix Caffeine too.”

“They’re very good at what they do. It’s the only reason I’m on my feet this early.”

“You’re not energized by the experience?” Clemmeck set its coffee down and gestured widely at the convention hall. “The excitement of a whole weekend all about your animals?”

Klazzia’s long green ears twitched. “Sure, I’m excited. Doesn’t mean I feel any more awake.”

He chuckled and picked up his coffee again. “I’ll let you get back to waking up, then. Enjoy the convention!”

“You too! Hope we both leave with empty enclosures on Sunday.”

Klazzia returned to zir booth and Clemmeck climbed back up on its stool. It took the opportunity to observe the small trickle of the morning crowd—the VIP ticket holders and other vendors perusing the booths. Not very many people stopped by its table for more than a glance, but it always made sure to greet any potential customers and tell them good morning. It was the least he could do!

The coffee made him a little jittery, but it was for the best. By the time his cup was empty, the convention had opened to the general crowd, and the hall was flooded with creatures of all kinds. Every table of every kind was swamped—and Clemmeck was no exception. He ran back and forth between the ends of his booth, talking about his animals, his business, and even selling a couple mimics to happy customers. The clock hadn’t even hit noon, but his day was already a success!

Things did slow down, eventually. The floor cleared slightly in the early afternoon, the lunch calm before the storm of the show’s final hours. Clemmeck relaxed on its stool again, happy to watch the people go by. Then, someone approached his booth, a calico catfolk with a sleek body of fur. They bent over the mimic displays, peering through the transparent plastic lids.

“Hello there!” Clemmeck greeted.

“Hi,” they said, ears flicking. “These are all mimics, right?”

“They sure are. Are you looking for a friend to take home this weekend?”

“I am! My first one, actually.”

He clapped in excitement, sliding off the stool. “Oh, how wonderful! Feel free to ask me anything about the mimics on display, I can tell you anything you like.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Clemmeck, by the way, I hope you’re having a fantastic time so far.”

The catfolk glanced between him and his animals. “I’m Pirra. And yeah, everyone’s been super nice.”

It nodded, smiling ear to ear. “That’s my favorite part about coming to these shows. It’s such a vibrant, friendly community.”

Pirra purred in agreement. Their whiskers twitched as they perused the mimics in their enclosures, inspecting them all closely. All the way from the four-month-old hatchlings copying dice, pebbles, and pencil erasers, the yearlings copying ring boxes and keychains, and the adults copying calculators and children’s letter blocks.

“This one’s so pretty,” Pirra said, pointing a claw at one of the displays.

Clemmeck leaned over the table to see. They’d pointed to Navi, one of his healthiest adults. She had taken to mimicking a beautifully detailed music box, down to the pattern of the polished wood engravings. Only a few things were out of place, like the lid having a blank spot for a keyhole, and no visible way to wind it up, but on a first glance, Navi was nothing but an inanimate object. He beamed with pride.

“You can hold her if you like,” he offered.

Pirra’s tail perked up. “Really?”

“Of course! Just sanitize your paws first and I’ll pull her out for you.”

They did as he asked, and Clemmeck unlocked the back of Navi’s display. She sat perfectly still as he slid his hand into her space. He cupped her cool body with one hand and slowly pushed her into his other. While she didn’t react on the outside, dozens of little pointy legs crawled over his hand, trying to find a flat spot to settle down. Pirra watched in awe.

“Do you know how to hold a mimic?” Clemmeck asked.

They shook their head. “No, I never have. I actually don’t know a tonlot about them, I saw some people online who keep huge mimic collections, and I thought they were cool.”

He clenched every muscle to keep a straight face. As much as he loved his job, there were always those people. The ones who never bothered to research the animals they were buying before they took one home. Clemmeck wasn’t an irritable person, not by any stretch of the imagination… but those sorts of people got on his nerves.

“I see,” he said, keeping a bright smile. “It isn’t too hard! Hold your paws out, and try to keep them as flat as you can.”

“Like this?” They reached out with both paws at a ninety-degree angle.

“Perfect. Hold still, now, you’ll feel her legs.”

Clemmeck let Navi crawl across his hands to their paws. They gasped at the sensation, frozen in place as she settled down on their soft pads, folding her legs back into her shell. Pirra kept their hands still as stone, but it was clear they were excited, ears tilted forward eagerly and tail swishing across the floor. Clemmeck relaxed a bit—even if they didn’t know anything about mimics, maybe they’d be willing to learn. And there was no better place to do it.

“Navi just turned two years old,” he said, introducing her like his own child. “She’s been one of my best eaters ever since she hatched, and her mimicking instincts are needle sharp, as you can see.”

“Hatched? Do mimics come out of eggs?” Pirra asked. “Was she born a really tiny music box and grew up into a big one?”

“Mimics lay eggs, correct. They can have dozens of eggs in a single clutch, but they’re so tiny when they finally get to the world, most of them get eaten in the wild. Especially since they’re completely featureless at that age, just lumps of shell and muscle.” Clemmeck tapped Navi’s music box lid. “This girl here is mimicking a music box I put in her enclosure last month, but she’s also been a marble, a pencil sharpener, and a small jam jar.”

Pirra alternated between gawking at Navi and at his explanation. “Wow. Somehow I never thought about that, I thought a mimic stayed the same shape its whole life.”

“Don’t feel too bad, a lot of people do. They only encounter mimics taking the shape of one thing, after all, and it’s understandable. In the wild, a mimic will pick a territory and copy the most convenient thing in it, staking its claim on the food and shelter in that area. If another mimic moves in, they fight for dominance, and the loser has to move on and copy something else.” He gestured at the displays. “You always want to keep mimics separate—if they feel their safe territory is threatened, things can get pretty nasty.”

They nodded seriously, and Clemmeck heartened to see them taking in the information. Too often, he’d seen new owners discard the years-cultivated advice from professionals, and it never ended well. But Pirra was curious and polite and handled Navi excellently—if she was calm enough to sit still without trying to escape, that was always a good sign.

“What happens if they don’t have their territory challenged?” Pirra asked. “Do they just stay the same way forever?”

“Nope, not even then. During their breeding season, mimics shuffle around their territory to find mates, so if they end up in a different place, they usually find something else to copy. Truthfully, a mimic that hasn’t changed its mimicry in several months is sign of illness or old age slowing it down.”

“Wow! So do they—”

Pirra shifted their arms and Navi skittered across their paws in alarm. They chirped in alarm, ears going back against their skull. Clemmeck scooped her back into his hands, holding her by her lid so she wouldn’t run off and hurt herself. Her dozens of tiny legs flailed in the air, panicked.

“I’m sorry, did I scare her?” Pirra said, paws folded to their chest.

“She’s just startled, is all.” He tapped his hand under her legs until she recognized it as a safe landing spot, and plopped down into his palm. “Easy, girl, everything’s alright.”

“She’s okay, right?”

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry another second.” Clemmeck ducked down under his booth, where he kept his stash of Calm Down Boxes—it was just one of the display enclosures covered in a blanket—and placed Navi inside one. He popped back up and smiled to assuage their fears. “I’ll leave her downstairs for a little bit, but I’m happy to answer any more questions you have.”

Pirra seemed nervous to respond, tail curled around their ankles. “Well, uh… I guess I was wondering how they know what’s best to turn into. How do they decide what to mimic in the first place?”

“It all depends on the environment and their size.” He pointed to the hatchlings mimicking dice. “These little fellas needed something really tiny to mimic for their first try, and something easy to copy. Dice are a great for a mimic’s first exercise in mimicry, but in the wild, they can be leaves, rocks, or flowers.”

“Wait, so you gave them dice to copy on purpose?”

“Sure did! I give all my animals a different object to mimic every couple months or so, it’s great enrichment and helps them flex their mimicking instincts. Watching them transition from one mimic to the other is fascinating, and I love when I can hardly tell which one’s the real object and which one’s fake.” It chuckled, remembering how many times it had tried to switch out the wrong eraser. “It’s a bit like keeping a cross between a hermit crab and a flytrap plant.”

“That sounds awesome,” Pirra remarked, and it could tell they were serious. Their earlier embarrassment melted away in the face of curiosity. “Do they eat bugs like a flytrap?”

“The little ones eat mealworms and crickets, but Navi down here is eating roaches and hopper mice. When she’s a little older, she’ll be eating full-sized rats. At her full size, she’ll be eating rabbits and chickens.”

Pirra’s eyes wet big. “A whole chicken? How big do they get?”

Clemmeck braced itself—this tended to be the hard part. “Mimics don’t really stop growing. They get too old to support their bodies, and slow down until they pass away. In captivity, with good husbandry and a proper diet, a mimic can live anywhere from fifteen to twenty years, and can get to be the size of a large footstool.”

“Oh.” They glanced to the side, lost in thought.

It was the hard part of raising mimics, Clemmeck would never deny that. His largest mimics had to copy furniture to stay enriched, were expensive to keep healthy, and he still had another five years to go with most of them. Not everyone was willing to make a commitment that large—physically and financially. No matter how much he preached that it was worth it, and he wouldn’t trade a dime of that money for the health of his animals, others simply didn’t feel the same. He accepted that outcome years ago. Besides, potential customers balking at the challenge was always better than an uninformed owner biting off more than they ever planned to chew and abandoning their pets.

“I think I have to think about this a lot more,” Pirra finally said.

“And that makes you smarter than most people at this convention,” Clemmeck praised. They laughed, and he took the opportunity to hand over a pamphlet care guide. “I give this to all first-time mimic owners. If it helps you make up your mind, feel free to take one.”

They took it, a determined fire sparking in their eyes. “Thank you for everything, I’ll definitely come back once I’ve made up my mind.”

“I’ll be here all weekend if you need any questions answered.”

Pirra left with a wave, tail swishing as they left. Clemmeck ducked under the booth to check on Navi. She sat peacefully still, no sign of her earlier stress. He carefully picked her up and placed her back in the display case. He thought again about how calm she’d sat in Pirra’s paws. How much they adored her. Their enraptured questions about mimic behaviors.

He looked off in the direction they’d gone. He really, truly, hoped they’d be back.

Saturday came and went, and he didn’t see a single hair of calico fur. Clemmeck wasn’t embarrassed to admit he’d been keeping an eye out, even asking Klazzia to let him know if a calico catfolk wandered past his booth while he went to lunch. Ze reported back nothing.

Outside of Pirra, though, the day was successful. Breeders and pet owners alike stopped by his booth to pick up a mimic or two. All of his hatchlings were gone before the end of the day. Most of the yearlings remained in their displays, but only one adult was left by Saturday afternoon: Navi.

On Sunday, Clemmeck hoped they’d at least arrive in the morning. It was the last day of the convention, after all. The day when prices dropped to all time lows as breeders became ever more willing to haggle to have as little to carry back home with them as possible. Clemmeck included.

Navi was a beautiful mimic, if it could say so itself. She was handleable, a fantastic eater, and a joy to observe. She would also be a fantastic breeder, if another discerning eye happened across its booth. Her instincts were sharp and allowed her to copy extremely small details—she was its highest priced adult for that reason, and her offspring would be just as expensive, if not more so. Clemmeck really hoped Pirra came back to claim her, but business was business. If another breeder, or even someone else looking for a pet, made it an offer, it couldn’t rightfully say it was holding her back just in case someone else made up their mind later.

The hours crawled by. Clemmeck haggled with the savvier customers, working out deals for the yearlings he had left. Someone tried to make an offer for Navi, but he dismissed the number. Even if Pirra never showed, he wasn’t selling off such a beautiful animal for crumbs. And if Pirra did come back, he hoped they planned to spend a bit more money.

Because buying a mimic wasn’t just about the mimic itself. Like the pamphlet he gave them explained, they needed enclosures stocked with enrichment, appropriately sized feeders, lighting, heat. They required specialized vet care, space, time. Commitment. Care.

No one truly knew how mimics thought. Their brains were so different, and the magic that allowed them to take so many different shapes no doubt influenced their thinking patterns in ways most creatures would never understand. But Clemmeck was of the firm belief that they had feelings. They felt pain, they felt fear, but they also felt safety. They knew when they were being cared for, and when they were being harmed. A mimic wasn’t a blank slate—it was an animal, deserving of proper respect.

That’s what bothered him most about the willingly unprepared keepers, or the hagglers trying to buy his animals for almost nothing. They didn’t respect his work to raise them, first of all, but they also didn’t respect the mimics themselves. It was a commodity to them, a product or a decoration. Doing no work, or only the barest minimum, to learn about the animal they intended to become responsible for made him sick.

Pirra wasn’t like that. Clemmeck could admit when it had made a mistake in judgement—it was a bit jaded after so many years. Pirra had the curiosity needed to care for an exotic animal. They had the caution necessary to understand when an animal was too much work for them. They already held the respect for living creatures that any breeder or pet owner needed at a baseline. It was selfish, maybe, but Clemmeck didn’t want to see that curiosity and care go to waste from anxiety.

It watched the crowd like always, but with a special focus on the catfolk wandering the convention floor. There were a few calicos, it turned out, but none of them were Pirra. The tail was too feathery, fur too long, the wrong colored patches. After lunch came and went, Clemmeck stopped looking, resigned.

And it gave up too soon.

Pirra arrived as the late afternoon crowd thinned, but they didn’t come alone. They hefted the box for a large glass terrarium in their arms and canvas bag full to bursting. Clemmeck leapt off his stool in delight.

“You made up your mind, I see!” he laughed.

“Yep!” Pirra set the terrarium on the ground. “I read your pamphlet and spent most of Saturday asking around at the other mimic booths to get a few more opinions. Even if a mimic gets really big, I have years to plan for it. I think I can do it.” They stood up taller. “I want to do it.”

Clemmeck almost teared up, strangely proud. “I think the Gods wanted you to give it a shot too. Navi’s still here.”

Their tail shot straight up. “She is?” they asked, purring through the words.

He gestured to her enclosure, one of the few mimics he had left. “As beautiful as ever. And since it’s the last day, she’s available at a discount.”

“I’ll take her!”

It was the happiest transaction Clemmeck had ever facilitated. Money exchanged hands and he boxed up their new pet into a travel container. Pirra never stopped purring for a second.

“Thank you,” they said, clutching Navi like a precious and fragile thing. “For this, and for all your advice and information and encouragement and stuff. I don’t think I would have been brave enough to give it a shot without that.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, the truest sentence he’d ever spoken. “I wish you two nothing but the best together.” Pirra waved goodbye again, disappearing with Navi and their load of mimic husbandry supplies. Clemmeck waved back, until he couldn’t see them anymore. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so happy to sell one of his animals.

-

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