#back when the show was still fun and full of promise

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

The Locker Room Horizontal Tango. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

UA Hero Course Touya x Support Course Y/N

Synopsis: An AU where Touya Todoroki is the top of the Hero Course at UA. He's hot, untouchable and and an absolute player - or so you think. The Reader is in the Support Course and often works on Touya's support gear and hero suit. After months of flirting back and forth, Touya initiates ridiculously steamy sex in the UA gym locker room. The sex is hot, but it seems he may have more than just fucking on his mind...

The shower is filled with steam - blending seamlessly with Touya's snow white hair. He's positioned the shower head so that the steam of scalding water is tilted away from you both. The stall is comfortably warm, and droplets of hot water still manage to splash random parts of your body as Touya positions you - hands against the warm tile walls and ass up towards him. He bends you over and makes sure you have good footing on the shiny tile floor before he strokes at your entrance with his cock. You gasp and the sensation - his wet tip gliding against your clit once, twice, three times, aaaand...

"Fuck, Touya!"

He doesn't take his time when he slides inside of you. He just starts moving. You weren't expecting him to move so quickly, but it doesn't really matter because your pussy has been soaking wet since he made eyes at you across the gym from his bench.

"Slow down, Jesus Christ." You manage to choke out as he pistons his hips and thrusts into you without warning. You feel so full and the stretch is absolutely delicious, but you want him to take his time. You want him to take you apart as meticulously as he promised he would in your Instagram DMs the night before.

"No can do, doll. Gotta be quick - we can't get caught like this." He says casually, but you can hear him straining to keep his voice even.

Hooking up in the UA gym locker room showers is definitely an expulsion-worthy offense. So, yeah, he's probably right. Gotta keep this short and sweet.

You throw your hips back and flex your pelvic muscles around his hard cock, and you hear him hiss out a curse in reply.

"Shit."

"I can play dirty, too." You smirk.

"Yeah. Okay. Sure." You hear the grin in his voice as he gives you a deep thrust and brings down his palm flat across the meat of your ass. It's not a hard slap - in fact, it barely makes a noise. But the sheer act of him smaking you around pushes you off the deep end. He's so fucking hot and so totally out of your league that you

He slides his hands up to grip your hips so he can pick up the pace even more.

"Ever have a cock this good, doll face? I bet you haven't." He teases, getting comfortable as he gets a good feel for your pussy. "Your such a studious little slut. Always updating my costume. Don't think I didn't notice what you did to my jumpsuit...you made it so tight on my fucking ass I can barely get it on." He wanders a hand to your left cheek and squeezes hard. You yelp at the sensation. "Yeah, that's how I feel every goddamn time I need to suit up for training now. Sucks, doesn't it?" He squeezes your butt again, more softly this time. He slows down his pace a bit, then gives you a single hard thrust. Jesus, his dick is going to split you in two. "Consider this punishment."

You groan. You were hoping he'd notice that little modification...

"An ass like that needs to be accentuated." You whimper out under your breath. "It was my duty as a support specialist to make your pants less baggy to show off that juicy peach."

"You fucking little minx." Touya is laughing out loud. You peer back over his shoulder and see him smiling down at you, eyes genuinely happy. You've never seen his expression so unguarded before - he's always scowling or looking devastatingly mischievous. But right now he just looks like a guy who's having fun.

"Oh, you wanna make eye contact?" He asks, and it's a genuine question. He's not joking around or mocking you. You nod dumbly as his hips still. His cock sits inside you for a moment, motionless except for a small twitch of arousal. "Alright, lemme figure this out." He pulls out slowly. Your pussy pulses with need when he's gone, empty and desperate for hero course cock.

He uses his big, strong hands to pull you upright, resting them gently at your hips. You stand there, staring at the tiled shower wall with your back to him. You feel hot all over as you feel his hungry eyes on your ass, your back, your shoulders. He's only ever seen you in a mechanic jumpsuit in the Support Course lab or in your school uniform. This is the most of you he's ever seen - and he loves it.

He slowly slides his hands upwards to run appreciatively up your curves, skin sliding easily across your shower-damp skin.

"Fucking gorgeous." He breathes out, pulling you flush against him. You yelp in surprise as you feel his hard cock erect against your bare ass, his muscled stomach and chest slick against your back. He brings his hands up, up, up and scoops at your breasts. "I've had my eyes on these for a while." He squeezes at your tits, bringing his thumbs to circle your pert nipples. You let out a tiny moan of pleasure.

"That feel good?" He whispers, bending his neck so that his breath ghosts along the shell of your ear. "You like it when I play with your tits? Answer me, sweetheart. Tell me what you like."

He's being gentle now, and you're unsure about it. It's a complete departure from what you were expecting, from the hard fucking he was just so confidently dishing out.

"Y-yeah. I like it when you touch my tits." You breathe out under your breath. You try to remember where you are - it's a Saturday afternoon and the men's locker room showers are likely to get quite busy soon as your classmates finish their workouts. You can't afford to be heard.

"Then I'll keep doing it." Touya says, fondling your breasts with the confidence you'd expect of the sex god of Class 3B. He pinches at your nipples in the most deliciously sinful way as he plants a hot kiss to your flushed neck. "And how would you like it if I touched riiiiight..." He lets his right hand wander down the expanse of your stomach and waist, dipping a long finger towards your pussy. "here?" He finds your clit and begins to circle it slowly.

"Oh!" You try to keep your voice low and fail as you squeak out an embarrassingly shrill moan. "Yeah. Yeah I like that, too." He continues to play with your clit - he's so confident and experienced and it all feels so. damn. good. You wish it would never end. But your pussy clenches needily, desperate to be filled back up. A greater woman would enjoy the attention and focus on the sensations of the top Hero Course student's capable hands on them. But you're not a greater woman. You're fucking horny and cock hungry.

"Please, Touya. Fuck me?" You whine out, grinding your ass against his hard cock. He laughs into your ear, planting a kiss on your cheek before he steps backwards and away from you. He releases his grip on your boob and pussy.

"Yeah, I'll give you what you need babygirl. Let's get you that eye contact, too." He turns you around and in an instant has you pressed against the warm tiled wall. His body melts into yours and he leans down to press your lips together as well, his hot mouth inviting and soft. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss him back, pressing years of want into the hot slide of your lips. You've been lusting after him since first year. Every time he asks for modifications to his hero costume you make sure you get assigned to his case so you have an excuse to talk with him, tease him, make him laugh...you've always hoped and prayed that he'd want you just as badly. But this is Touya Todoroki, the guy who's managed to simultaneously be the school's bad boy and top of his class. He has his choice of literally anyone at UA, regardless of gender. Why would he ever choose you?

Your brain slyly slurs out: "Well he's certainly choosing you right now, isn't he?"

Yes indeed - here you are, on the receiving end of Touya's amazing tounge as he deepens the kiss and grabs at your hips with greedy hands. His cock is hard against your belly, twitching with desire.

He breaks the kiss for a moment to whisper "Touch me, Y/N." before sealing your lips back to his in another electrifying kiss. You bring your shaking hands up and around his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles of his back and neck before deciding to explore his chest. You slide your hands between your bodies, placing your open palms against his hard pecs. You drag your hands slowly, slowly down his rippling abs and stomach and he groans into your mouth at the contact.

You continue to kiss him, the rhythm of your lips becoming increasingly erratic when your hand brushes against his throbbing erection. You try to stay confident as you wrap your dexterous mechanic hand around the base of his cock, shocked at how big he is. He's sticky - a mixture of precum and slick from being inside of you. Goddamn this is so fucking hot. You try not to get cuahg up in your head as you move to slowly jerk him off, your hand sliding from base to tip in a smooth motion. He breathes in sharply and breaks away from your mouth, burying his face into your neck as your hand glazes over the tip of his cock. You gain some confidence and slide your hand back down to the base. His breath becomes ragged as you work at him, paying extra special attention to the tip of his dick.

"God." He breathes out, his hips lightly bucking to urge you on. "If I had known you'd be this good to me, I would have fucked you a long time ago. I've always wanted to bend you over that stupid help desk counter at the Support Course Lab. Wanted to strip you out of that stupid neon orange mechanic jumpsuit you're always wearing." He's grumbling nonsense into your neck as you pick up the pace, putting all of your energy into giving him a great handjob. "Ah! Ah! I'm gonna need you to stop that, beautiful."

You slide your hand off of his dick and he plants a soft kiss into your neck before pulling away from you. He stares down at you with an incredulous look in his piercing blue eyes, chest rising and falling heavily. "Fuck, the things you do to me." He whispers through full lips, his eyes darting down to your tits and then back up to meet your eyes. Your stomach does a little somersault at all the keen attention he's giving you. Is there a chance...that he actually likes you?

He reaches down between you and spins his fingertip against your clit again, causing your pussy to throb hungrily.

"Let's get you taken care of." He breathes out quietly, his face a breath away from your own. He taps at your clit again and smirks as you shift your body towards him needily, desperate for him to provide some sort of relief to your aching pussy. You look up at him with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, I could really use your cock right now." You say in a desperate, slutty sort of voice. It's a voice that even you are surprised to hear coming out of your mouth. Touya gives you another genuine laugh and you find yourself entranced by the sound.

"Don't worry, I've got you." He scoops up your right leg and positions it so that your knee presses against your chest. He presses your bodies back against eachotehr and uses his free hand to push the head of his cock to your entrance.

This time, he takes it slow. This time, he makes sure you feel every fucking inch of him slide into you. He stares into your wide eyes with his own shockingly bright eyes, desperate to see every emotion that flickers across your face as you take his thick cock.

You moan as he bottoms out inside of you, your body is thrilled to be full and stretched like this. Fuck. If he asked, you'd be his little slut til the end of time.

But the vibe has shifted - it's no longer hot and heavy and desperate.

No, in this new position, Touya is fucking worshiping your body with every stroke. His eyes are laser focused on your face, his lips parted as he lets out these tiny sighs of pleasure with each thrust. He presses your knee up a bit more so he can get a better angle, shifting his hips from side to side so that he can get as much of his cock inside of you as possible.

You have no idea what to do or say, you've never had someone's attention this laser focused on you during sex. You feel like you'll combust under his gaze, under his touch. His cock feels so fucking good inside of your tight heat - the gentle way he's dragging it backwards before lightly thrusting it back inside is absolute heaven. He keeps up a steady pace for a few moments before he dips his head so he can bury it back into your neck. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest, your knee pressed between your two bodies as he continues to fuck into you softly.

Your so overwhelmed with the magic of it all you keep forgetting to breathe. You feel so comfortable pressed against him like this, his cock buried in you as far as it will go. Your orgasm builds with each thrust, a tense coiling of golden ichor in your core.

Touya seems to feel the same because he picks up the pace, groaning quietly into the soft flesh of your neck with every rut. "Fuck this pussy is good Y/N." He flexes into you, the tip of his cock hitting a gloriously deep spot inside of you. You feel your legs start to shake with the pleasure of it all.

"Touya. Touya. I think I'm gonna..."

"Yeah baby? Can you cum for me, pretty girl?" He moans into your skin, pressing wet kisses to the place where your neck and shoulder meet. Baby? Pretty Girl? Fuck.

The pet names drive you over the edge and you cum hard around his cock. Your pussy flexes and flares and absolutely consumes him as he fucks up into you.

"Oh fuck baby. Fuck Yeah. Shit." Touya mutters a string of expletives appreciatively as he feels your cunt flutter and squeeze around him as you cream. He slides his hands down to your waist and helps you ride out your orgasm with stuttering hips. Your gummy walls try to milk him for his baby batter and you feel his breath hitch. The tail end of your orgasm slips away, leaving you a twitching mess in its wake.

"Shit. Baby. Shit. I'm gonna cum." Touya breathes, thrusting into you hard before quickly scrambling to pull out of your slick heat. Your leg drops to the ground as he takes a quick step away, splattering your stomach with thick cum as he barely makes it out in time. You lean back into the shower tile, catching your breath as Touya stares at you with wide, fucked out eyes. He rubs out the last waves of his orgasm, dick quickly going soft in his hand as he stares at your gorgeous, shaky body.

"Woah." He breathes, releasing his hold on his cock and straightening up to stand. He runs his hands through sex-wild white hair, laughing a bit as he comes back to himself.

"Yeah, woah." You slide down to sit on the floor, absolutely exhausted and caught up in the afterglow of the best fuck you've ever had. You close your eyes and drop your head back against the wall and breathe in deeply, your breasts bouncing with the effort of it.

After a moment, he joins you, knocking his bare knee against your own.

The shower is still going next to you both, droplets of hot water bouncing off the tile floor and clinging to your skin in small splashes.

"Would you be up for doing that again sometime?" He asks, voice open and eager.

You crack open an eye and look over at him, bewildered.

"Seriously?" You say, not even bothering to hide the surprise in your voice.

Yeah, when Touya started sexting you via Instagram late last night you were hoping for a good hot fuck. But that was it. You know Touya's reputation, and you know he doesn't sleep with anyone more than once. Plus - he's wayyy out of your league. He's a hot shot future hero and you're the kind of side character who's always behind the scenes. Most of the hero course students barely notice you, even when you help with their support gear. You're not a main character, you're just a face in the crowd.

"Did you hear anything I was saying before?" Touya laughs incredulously. "We've been friends for like three years, haven't we? Ever since you started working on my support gear in our first year."

It's true that the two of you have been known to chat and discuss his support gear. You'll even grab lunch together every few weeks to chat through shared course work and the general UA curriculum. But this whole time you thought he was just buttering you up so you'd do your best when working on his hero gear. You're friendly with him, sure. You're friendly with a lot of people. It's part of being in Support - customer service and that sort of thing.

Hold on.

You think back to all of the memes he's sent you on Instagram, the times he's waved to you in the hall. The extra hours he's spent chatting with you while you tinkered with his support gear in the lab, the times he's snuck you extra sweets from Lunch Rush as a thank you for the suit modifications. Holy shit. You've been putting this guy on a fucking pedestal and this whole entire time he's been...trying to make you his friend!?

You give him a surprised look, eyebrows raised. Your mouth is trying to find words but you're at an utter loss.

"Y/N. You can't be serious. I've been trying to get your attention for literal months." He's giving you a look of bafflement. "I've been flirting with you forever. Like...every time I come to the Lab. My support gear has been working perfectly all year, didn't you notice that the cuff to my gloves kept breaking in the same spot? I literally have been taking it apart with a screwdriver every other week for an excuse to come back to the Lab to talk to you."

"Huh!?" Your brain is crashing out as it scrambles to think back to all the times Touya would show up to the Lab, sheepishly grinning as he showed you the latest way he's managed to break his support gear "during training."

"Y/N." Touya shakes his head in disbelief, then throws back his head and laughs - illicit locker room hookup be damned. You can't help but start laughing with him. "Come here." He stands up and hauls you to your feet.

The showers in the locker room are private and broken into two sections - a tiny curtained changing area that leads into the larger shower space. He opens the shower curtain to the cramped changing area to grab his gym bag. He unzips it and pulls out a washcloth alongside a ziplock bag filled with toiletries. He ducks back into the shower area where you're standing awkwardly, completely naked and still sticky from sex.

He reaches behind you to adjust the shower head so that it's back in place, and gently pushes you under the warm water. You feel your muscles relaxing under the hot steamy flow. You close your eyes and tilt your head back to wet your hair. You're exhausted and feeling such a complex mix of emotions - nerves at how you'll escape the men's locker room undetected, delight at the orgasm you've just shared with the hottest guy at UA, and surprise and excitement that Touya has been trying to pursue you all this time.

You let out a small "eep!" of surprise as you feel Touya slot himself behind you. He wraps his muscled arms around your body and squeezes you in a brief hug, before sliding a thick bar of soap across the plush skin of your stomach.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He says quietly, his voice a tickle in your ear as he dips to kiss your neck. He slowly soaps you up, bubbles of suds glinting across your skin in the low florescent light of the school shower. He touches you like you're something valuable, something to be cherished. It makes your heart feel like you might explode.

In a few minutes, you're squeaky clean. You've used some of the shampoo from the shower's soap dispenser to lather at your hair, and Touya's made short work of your body with soap and a washcloth. But he doesn't stop there. He kneads at your sore shoulder muscles under the hot water, laughing softly when you arch into his gentle touch. Who would have thought that Touya would be the king of aftercare!?

It's a quiet, intimate thing to be touched by Touya in this way. Even in your wildest Touya fantasies, you never let yourself dream that a post-coital Touya could be so sweet. You've only heard rumors of his reputation as a heartbreaker - he's always fucking and leaving. You don't even realize that you've said this aloud to him until he pauses in his gentle massage at the nape of your neck.

"Huh. Yeah that's a fair concern. Well...think of it this way. I have a lot of fuckin' goals. I want to be number one at school. I want to be the number one hero once we graduate. I've never had time for relationships or feelings or shit - but sex is fun. I tell everyone before I sleep with them not to expect anything more than a good fuck. It's not like I'm purposefully running around 'breaking hearts.' I'm upfront about what I want and what I can give."

"But..." You're not sure if you want to be having this discussion, you don't want to set yourself up for disappointment. You're confused about this whole situation and what it means. "You didn't tell me that. You didn't tell me not to expect anything more than sex. That's fine, though. I assumed this would just be a quick one-off thing." You say, sighing as he resumes rolling out your muscles with his capable fingers.

"Y/N." He huffs out a laugh, squeezing at your shoulders lightly. "I already said I want to do this again with you. In fact...Y/N I want to fucking date you. School schedule and hero shit be damed." He wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you against him. You feel the hard planes of his chest muscles naked against the skin of your back. You're covered in goosebumps at the skin-to-skin contact and at his unbelievable words. "I thought I've made it clear to you - I'm interested. I'm invested. I have been for a while." He sucks in a breath, and you realize that he's pitching you. This idiot is trying to convince you to let him date you. This is real insanity hours now - there's no way in a thousand years that you would have seen this coming.

Touya nuzzles his pointed, aristocratic face into your shoulder. The hot water continues to pour from the shower head, drenching you both in warmth. Your mind races - Touya Todoroki wants to date you!? Maybe you aren't just a face in the crowd, after all. You stay silent as you mull it all over. He fills the airspace the best he can: "I can't promise you I'll be any good at this relationship stuff...I've never done it before. But if you'll have me, I'll try to be the best damn boyfriend I can. Think about it - Touya Todoroki, number one in the class. Number one in your heart. Number one boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, yeah?" He laughs, and once again it's that clear, unguarded sound that makes your heart squeeze.

"I'd like that." Is all you can manage to say. You're so overwhelmed - thoughts and question buzzing around in your head like a hive of angry bees. Loud bees. "I'm gonna need a hot minute to process all of this." Your legs are still shaky and you are starting to feel dehydrated. You want to go lay down in your bed for a while and just think about it all.

"Take your time, beautiful." Touya sounds pleased as he plants another smooch on your cheek. "We're in no rush. I texted all of the guys to steer clear of the locker room for another half hour."

"What!?" You say, incredulous. You had thought this was a super secret sexy hookup that no one would ever know about.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want us to be interrupted. And everyone owes me a favor from when I got training cancelled last week by accidentally setting Gym C on fire."

"So everyone knows that you and I are...?"

You don't need to look at Touya to know he's got that wicked grin plastered to his face - the one that shows off his mischievous dimples. "Hey, I didn't explicitly say what we would be doing...but..." He shrugs, all cocky confidence. "I think it was pretty easy for them to read between the lines."

"Touya Todoroki." You admonish, stepping out and away from him so you can turn around and deliver a light smack to his chest. "You are an absolute menace."

His bright teeth sparkle in the lowlight and you're stricken by how damn pretty he is.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, reaching to grab your bare hips and pull you towards him. He dips his head down so he's a breath away from your lips. "Let me show you just how menacing I can be, sweetheart." He kisses you, and it's as if your lips are magnetic the way they are pulled back to his over and over.

Touya Todoroki, Number One Boyfriend.

Huh. You kind of like the sound of that.

[headfullofdolls]

"Oh, wait, is it my line??" Drama Audition Drama – Season 2, Episode 5

aka Poppy seeing the new soft reboot

F in the chat for our favorite DJ

[mrsbarnesblog]

I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend. 

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we��re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening. 

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing. 

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.  

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least. 

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it. 

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him. 

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed. 

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels. 

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back. 

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination. 

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear. 

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.” 

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back. 

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"  

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent. 

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too. 

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips. 

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed. 

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy. 

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.” 

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go. 

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar. 

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes. 

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes. 

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness. 

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs. 

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.” 

[mwahsturns]

Make you mine ୨୧

Sub!reader x Matt Sturniolo

Contains: Smut, swearing, basically porn, A lot of praise, pet names (baby, good girl), unprotected sex, big dick!matt, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, face cum. - Semi-proof read! I think that’s all?

Synopsis: You went to your best friend’s house earlier that morning, you’re currently spending the night at Matt’s house and told him you’d be back later. You ended up staying late as you lost Track of time. You come home late very exhausted, to see Matt still awake at his computer and he asks you to make it up to him…

authors note: yall this one is freaky so grab your rose toy and some Pepsi and enjoy the ride 🤭

You walk into Matt’s room exhausted excepting him to be asleep, you walk into the room to see him on his computer. ‘Hey baby’ i say putting down my bag by the side of his bed. He turns around in his seat, a small smile forming as he sees me coming in ‘Hey...’he responds, his voice a bit husky from being up late, ‘Where have you been all night?’ I chuckled at his voice, he sounded sleepy and I could tell.

‘Madi’s house’ I said taking off my boots. ‘Madi's house, huh?’ he nods, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before looking back at his computer screen. ‘You look tired...’ he comments, his tone a bit softer now. ‘Did you guys have a lot of fun?’ I smile at him softly. ‘yeah but i missed u’ I walk up to him taking out my earrings.

His expression softens, and he closes his laptop, giving me his full attention. ‘You missed me, huh?’ He asks, trying to suppress a smile. ‘Even though you were out with your friends?’ I nod sitting on his lap as he sits on the gaming chair. He wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. ‘I missed you too, baby.’ He sighs contently, holding me close. ‘You know, I was starting to think you forgot about me.’

‘I could never..’ I smile staring into his eyes. He lifts his head up, looking into my eyes with a small smile. ‘Never, huh?’ He asks, his voice low and soothing. ‘Good, because I couldn't bear the thought of you forgetting about me.’ He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. ‘Matt i know you hate going but would you pretty please come with me to Tara’s party tomorrow’ I smile hoping he gives in.

He raises an eyebrow, trying not to let his discomfort show too obviously ‘babe a party..’ He shifts slightly, still keeping me on his lap ‘You know how I feel about those things my love.’ I start thinking of ways to convince him… What most people don’t know is Matt loves anything physical in his relationships so it’s normal for us to be hugging holding hands …. Fucking a lot so I knew the perfect way to get him to go.

‘I’ll give you a blow job if you go’ I smile. his eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and temptation crossing his face ‘Well...’ he chuckles softly ‘When you put it that way...’ he runs a hand through my hair ‘What time do we have to leave?’ a playful smirk forms on his lips. ‘7 a clock at night I’m pretty sure’ I think about the text me and Tara shared earlier. 7 at night..." he sighs dramatically but there's a glint in his eyes ‘Alright, I'll do it... but only because you promised...’ he pulls me closer, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips ‘You better keep your word, gorgeous.’

I laugh, ‘I’m going’ I smile getting on my knees. He watches as you get on my knees, his smirk growing wider. ‘Mmm, I'm counting on it...’ he spreads his legs slightly, giving me better access as he leans back in the chair. ‘Come on then, baby...’ I undo his belt slowly I smirk pulling his pants and boxers down ‘still big..’ His ego swells slightly as i check out his size, his hands finding their way into my hair. ‘You like that?’ He asks, his voice dropping an octave, knowing the answer already. ‘You always act so surprised...’

‘because you’re just so big baby..’ I smile staring at his dick. ‘you always say that...’ He chuckles softly, his manhood twitching with anticipation as i stare at it. ‘You make it sound like it's too much...’ He spreads his legs wider, giving me better access. ‘Too much?? Never.’ He smiled ‘Put that pretty mouth to good use, baby.’ I smile “anything for you Matthew..” I smirk kitty licking his tip. ‘Fuck..." He hisses through gritted teeth as i lick his tip, his hips bucking slightly. ‘You're such a good girl, aren't you?’ He praises, his voice thick with desire. ‘So eager to please your man...’

I nod licking the side of his cock. ‘Fuck... that feels amazing...’ His breathing becomes heavier as he watches me work. ‘Show me how much you missed me... show me how good you can be...’ He guides my head down slightly, helping me take more of him. ‘That's it, baby... just like that...’ I hallow my cheeks sucking him, He pants, his hips lifting off the chair as i hollow your cheeks around him. ‘You take it so much better than anyone else...’ He moans, his fingers tightening in your hair, I pull off spitting on his cock then deep throating him again.

‘Fuck yes!’ He groans deeply as you spit and take him deep again ‘You're so fucking filthy... I love it...’ His hips thrust forward, meeting my rhythm ‘Keep going baby, just like that...’ He pants heavily, his body tense with pleasure. I gagged taking as much as I could handle. His eyes roll back in his head, voice breaking as he feels me deepthroat him completely ‘How... how do you even...’ He pants heavily, fingers shaking in my hair ‘That's so fucking hot...’ He moans deeply. I moan against him the slide up sucking his tip.

He lets out a guttural growl at the sensation, hips bucking slightly ‘You're killing me... fuck, why are you so perfect...’ His fingers trace along your jawline as i suck his tip ‘Such a gorgeous mouth... made for this...’ I moan continuing my pace. ‘Oh god, that sound...’ His voice is thick with lust ‘Can't get enough of it...’ His free hand reaches down, stroking your hair and cheek gently ‘Look up at me, baby...’ His voice has that irresistible soft tone.

I pull off smiling “I want you to cum on my face..”He stares at you, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your face covered in saliva ‘Fuck, you're something else...’ He grabs his dick, stroking it quickly as he watches you ‘I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face baby...’ I close my eyes and stick my tongue out. He moans loudly, his hand moving faster as he watches me prepare for his load. He unleashes a thick, hot load of cum all over my face, coating my skin, hair, and tongue in his seed ‘fuck baby..’ I take it off my eyes and open them. He stares at me, taking in the sight of his cum dripping down my face ‘Damn, you look even prettier like this...’ He gently runs his fingers through the sticky strands of hair on my face ‘My little messy angel...’

I wipe it off my face with my fingers and lick it off. He watches me lick his cum off my fingers, his dick already starting to twitch again ‘Fuck, you're insatiable... I think I'm addicted to you’ He pulls me up and crushes his lips against mines, tasting himself on my tongue. He breaks the kiss, panting ‘Need you... now...’ He roughly grabs me and pushes me up against the nearest wall, pressing his body against mine ‘Want to fuck you so hard...’ His hands roam over my body possessively ‘You ready for me?’ I immediately take my hoodie off and pants off. He looks me up and down, his eyes dark with lust ‘Fuck, you're gorgeous...’ He quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs ‘Gonna fuck you so hard, baby...’

I nod biting my lip jumping into his arms and tongue kissing him, He catches me easily, one hand grasping my ass while the other tangles in my hair as he devours my mouth in a fierce kiss. His hardening cock presses against my stomach. He growls against my lips and carries you over to the bed, throwing me down onto it. ‘Spread those legs for me baby...’ I nod spreading them. He climbs onto the bed between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance .

‘You're so wet...’ He teases my opening with the head of his cock ‘Ready for me to stretch that tight little pussy?’ I nod, as he did not hold back. A wicked grin spreads across his face and he slams his hips forward, burying himself deep inside me in one thrust. ‘Like that, baby?’ He begins to pound into me mercilessly, his hips moving at a brutal pace ‘Gonna fuck you until you can't walk straight..’ I moan softly. ‘’Matt’ He leans down, sucking at my neck as he continues to hammer into me.

‘So tight and wet... Fuck, you feel amazing...’ He grabs my legs and throws them over his shoulders, changing the angle and going even deeper ‘Take it all, baby...’ my body slightly shakes. ‘mmph- Matt’ I moan, His pace quickens at the sound of his name on my lips. ‘Yeah, baby? Say my name again... while I'm fucking that sweet pussy...’ He leans down to whisper in my ear ‘You're close aren't you? I can feel your walls squeezing me...’ I couldn’t even think straight I was so cock drunk.

‘so big matt..’ i moan gripping the sheets. A deep growl escapes his throat at the way i stretch around him ‘Tell me how much you can take, baby... How much of my big cock can your little pussy handle?’ He reaches between us and finds my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. ‘c-can’t take it’ I cried.

He chuckles and pulls out almost completely, then slams back in, hitting my cervix ‘Too much huh? You can't handle all this dick...’ He does it again, pounding his hips against yours ‘Look at me, eyes on me...’ I try to keep them open as I moan uncontrollably. ‘Good girl... Now tell me who's fucking that tight little pussy?’ His abs contract with each powerful thrust, his fingers still working my clit

‘Tell me...’ He grinds his hips in a way that makes me gasp ‘That's my girl, fucking losing it...’ I grip his shoulders tightly. ‘mmh it’s yours Matt all yours..’ His pace quickens and he pulls out almost completely ‘Who does this belong to? Who's the only one allowed to fill this pretty little hole up?’ ‘you Matt only you’ I moan out. ‘Fuck yeah... Only me...’ His voice gets deeper, more primal. ‘"That's right, baby... This pussy is mine’ my eyes roll back as I moan uncontrollably.

His pace is brutal, his hips snapping back and forth as he fills me up completely ‘Say I’m Matt's girl...’ ‘I’m Matt’s girl..’ I moan out. ‘That's it... You're my fucking girl...’ He pulls out and flips me over onto my hands and knees ‘Now watch the mirror and watch me fill you up again...’ He lines himself up with my entrance and slams back in, his balls slapping against my clit. I grip the sheets crying out in pleasure.

‘Look at yourself... See how well you take my cock?’ He reaches around to play with my clit as he fucks me from behind ‘So goddamn beautiful... My girl, my pussy, my everything.’ I choked out a groan. ‘don’t stop don’t stop..’ the only thing I can repeat. ‘You like that, baby? Like watching me fuck you senseless?’ He leans down to kiss my shoulder, his hips never stopping their brutal pace ‘You're so close, I can feel it...’ ‘Matt please fuck ima cum’

‘Cum for me, baby... Show me who you belong to...’ He slams into me one last time and holds himself deep inside of me as he comes, his hot seed filling you up completely ‘Fuck...’ my body goes limp shaking, He collapses on top of me. His heavy breathing the only sound in the room for a moment, he eventually rolls off and pulls me onto his chest His arms wrapped around me. ‘told you id make you mine...’ i laughed softly.

‘I love you…’ I muttered out. ‘I love you too pretty girl’ He kisses the top of my head, his heart still racing from the intense sexual intimacy we just had "Now rest. We'll order some food and watch a movie later." He holds me close, feeling completely content and satisfied. ‘Perfect day.’ He said softly….

A/n: I hope you enjoyed sorry I took a break I got stuff I’m working on for you guys! And for my Chris girls keep an eye out ….

(COMMENT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST!)

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part three - you help steve and penelope look for cinderella 11k

a/n - this actually took me ages oh my god. but to those asking about cinderella here you go! CW lost pet (happy ending i promise)

── .✦

The clock hanging in the hall clicks annoyingly loud. Tick, tick, tick, like a bad song stuck in your head. You watch the minute hand cross another line. It hasn’t been adjusted since the time changed last week. Similarly, the calendar below it has yet to be flipped. 

It’s November now, but more importantly, it’s Friday. It’s quickly cementing itself as your favorite day of the week. Friday’s mean lunch in Steve’s office and trading weekend plans and hearing about the kind of mischief Penelope’s been up to at home. 

But it’s a quarter past eight and Steve hasn’t arrived yet. He’s never been late, or even absent since you started volunteering. It’s odd, but everyone has their days you suppose. Still, a dull twinge blooms in your chest. Working without him might as well be a form of punishment. 

Someone had shoved a vacuum in your hands while they try and figure out if he’s coming. It’s boring work, not the kind Steve would give you. And when he has to give you boring work, he at least makes it fun. Turns most things into games or competitions. Like last week, he bet you any candy from the vending machine that he could sort donations faster than you. You bought him a Reeses, of course, but if anyone asks, you let him win on purpose. 

You hear Steve before you see him. He’s not loud, but his voice is distinct against any others. By now, you could pick him from a crowd by voice alone. You find him in the threshold between his supervisor's office and the hall. He lingers halfway out, toying with the door handle like he can’t decide if he should go inside. 

“Ah, look who finally decided to show up,” you overhear. “Was about to send a search party for you, Harrington.” The man cackles at his own joke, tone devoid of any edge. 

Steve laughs strangely. A laugh you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard from him before. He spills a string of apologies for his tardiness, but his boss waves him off and sends him to work. 

When he backpedals out of the doorway, you chide, “Tsk. Tsk. You’re late, Harrington.” 

Steve spooks easily. He hates to admit it but it makes him an easy target for office pranks which you do take full advantage of now that you’re friends. But you aren’t even trying to scare him this time. 

He visibly tenses at your voice, eyes snapping to yours. They’re as intense as you’ve ever seen the lovely shade of brown, yet dulled with the toll of exhaustion. The next thing you notice is his hair. It’s combed back behind his ears and by the looks of it has no product. 

“Hey,” he tries, stopping halfway to clear his throat. 

As if his appearance isn’t alarming enough, the lack of a comeback is triple worrisome. You try– and fail– to contain your concern. “What happened?” 

He deflates in one big sigh. Any attempt at a facade vanished. It’s impossible to lie to you when you look so concerned. 

“I’m the worst dad ever,” he declares, skimming your arm as he sidesteps past you. 

You catch up to his long stride with practiced eloquence. “Uh-oh. What’d you do?” 

“Cinderella’s gone missing.” 

“Missing?” 

He nods.

“But she’s an outside cat, right? She’s probably, I dunno, chasing birds or slumped over a can of tuna at a neighbor's house.” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s been four days. Four. She’s usually around at least once a day, if not, every other. I can’t even remember the last time–”

“Wait, wait. This makes you the worst dad, how exactly?” 

He forces his key into the lock of his office door, jostling the handle in frustration. “Because Penelope’s begged me since forever to let her be an inside cat and I always say no. She wouldn’t have got lost if she was inside.” 

You flick on the light and hum, understanding more than agreeing. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Steve, but I think you’re exaggerating.” 

He plants his bag on the desk and unzips it. “This is serious. She loves that cat more than me, I swear.” 

“Okay, first of all, not true. Second of all, this is serious and it sucks but it doesn’t make you a bad dad. You know that right?” 

“Besides the point,” he passes you a heavy pile of paper. “Will you help me hang these up?”

You don’t answer because you don’t need to. He already knows you’ll say yes. 

Black ink across the top page reads, “MISSING CAT”. There are two patchy images of Cinderella, one of which you’ve never seen and the other underexposed beyond recognition. Steve’s name, phone number, and address are listed at the bottom too. You flick through the stack, finding each version of Cinderella has been coated in a thick layer of brown crayon. 

“Penelope insisted on coloring all of them so people know what color she is.” 

Steve doesn’t have time for the pity party of a look you show him. If you cry, he’ll cry. And he’s cried enough in the last few days. 

You accompany Steve to the bulletin board outside his office. Unspokenly, you accept the very important job of paper-passer while he’s in charge of the stapler. 

“Thanks,” he says flatly, thumb catching on yours as he takes the page you’re holding out. 

“Don’t worry, Steve. She’ll come home. Cats just like their space sometimes.” You aren’t totally sure if that’s true about cats, but it sounds like the right thing to say. 

He mutters something under his breath. Not mean, just doubtful. 

It’s unusual to be the one filling the conversation. Steve’s good at talking, a Chatty Cathy as he often calls Penelope. But you try your best to fill his shoes. 

“How’s Penelope dealing with it?” 

“Awfully.” He chuckles dryly. “She’s on strike for just about everything right now. Refused to go to sleep, refused to eat breakfast, refused to get in the car this morning.” 

You nod and hand him another sheet. 

“I’d bet by lunch I’ll have to go pick her up. She was hysterical at drop-off.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You have a funny urge to tack on something other than his name. Dummy or boss are typical but ill-fitting. And honey or sweetheart would probably cross a line, though, they’re nice to consider. 

He sighs, kneading his eye sockets. “I’m sorry. I’m being… I know you’re trying to help.” 

“You’re allowed to feel frustrated you know.” 

“I know. You’re just– thanks.”

“I’m banning that word from our conversations. You say it too much,” you tease. 

He gives you a look, neither happy nor sad. “Cause you’re always helping me, dummy.” 

You grin, largely at the nickname. 

Every board in the building is covered with posters and every person is notified of Cinderella’s disappearance in half the time it would normally take you and Steve. He’s not in any rush, just in his head. And after that, you dissolve into separate work, never far but still apart. 

By noon Steve’s on his third cup of coffee. But no amount of caffeine or sugar will erase the heavy bags under his eyes. Finding Cinderella might be the only cure. 

So there’s no debate in your mind when you offer, “I can come over and help look tonight?” 

Steve holds a finger up, gaze trained on an address book with his phone clamped between his ear and shoulder. “Hi, Miss Crawford?” He pushes the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. It’s rare that he wears them in front of you. Cute, nonetheless. “Yes, it’s Steve,” he says. 

There’s high-pitched rambling on the other end, not clear enough to discern anything other than an old-timey affection for Steve. You aren’t sure of the nature of Steve’s relationship with the woman, but he appears equally fond, even through the somber hues of his story. 

She offers no valuable insight as to Cinderella’s whereabouts but promises to keep an eye out, making her… strike seven. Steve’s determined to phone every person he knows and then every local in the phone book in the span of his thirty-minute lunch break. You joked about stealing his office neighbor’s phone to help, but Steve insisted you didn’t. 

When he docks the receiver you repeat yourself. 

“Sorry. You really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I can… If you want. It’s up to you.” 

“I– okay,” he sighs. “Only if you really don’t mind. It would be really helpful honestly.” 

“After work then?”

“Uhh, sure. I just have to pick up Penelope when I get off.” 

“Sounds good.” You grin and stir your food idly with a fork. It eventually goes cold in your lap. You’re more preoccupied with what you’ll wear tonight and what to bring Penelope to cheer her up. Candy’s probably your best bet. You know she’s already run out of Skittles from Halloween. 

Steve’s lips twitch happily as he dials another number. 

That’s about the happiest you see him. The rest of the day is a blur, mostly busywork as Steve is consistently ushered away by someone for something not even in his job description. For the first time possibly ever, he leaves on time. And he doesn’t say goodbye. He’s clearly having an awful day so you pretend it doesn’t sting, but the walk to your car is painfully silent. 

At home, you change quickly, pop something frozen in the microwave, and retrace your steps back to the car in record time. The drive to Steve’s is unfortunately not very long. It doesn’t give you much time to mull over every possible scenario like your brain desires. But you’ll survive. 

It still feels unfamiliar, pulling into his driveway. Less so than the first time, but still. You notice things you hadn’t before. The long crack like lightning in the pavement, the tinkle of a wind chime against the breeze, and the stepping stone with a ‘P’ carved in it. Halloween was the last time you were here. A couple of weeks has never felt like such a lifetime. Steve’s been busy parenting and working late and all. You don’t blame him. Sometimes you wonder how he ever made time for you in the first place with his schedule. 

On the front steps, Penelope plucks a weed and adds it to her bouquet. Her cheek is squished against the top of her knee and she’s curled over herself like a pillbug. Brown eyes flick up as you near. One blink, then two. The epitome of indifference. 

“Hi, Penelope.” 

“Hi,” she says. She sounds uncharacteristically small. And she is small, but her voice is anything but. You know her to be bold, unapologetic. But not today. 

You squat, toe to toe with her little Mary Janes, and wave a pack of Skittles. “Look what I brought,” you sing. 

The slightest lift of her frown before she restores the pout for good. “For me?”

“All for you.” 

She takes the candy and tucks it under her arm. 

“Wanna help me look for your dad?” 

It’s not a bribe, though her presence does tend to balm your Steve-induced nerves. So you are a little disappointed when she shakes her head. But disappointment wanes into sympathy and sympathy to determination. Determination to help her find Cinderella as soon as possible. 

You palm her shoulder as you stand. The front door is ajar, the breeze eating any warmth in the foyer. It’s eerily quiet inside. 

“Steve?” 

“One second!” he calls back, muffled from upstairs. 

The entryway is messier than you remember it. Shoes in a jumbled heap behind the door, Steve’s unzipped backpack slumped against the baseboards, and winter gloves and hats knocked haphazardly onto the tile. You bend to pick up a knit beanie as Steve hurdles down the stairs. 

He struggles to squeeze into a raincoat over the thick sweater he wore to work. “Hey,” he smiles softly, gaze sweeping across your clothes. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Do you want a heavier coat? Radio said it’s supposed to storm tonight.” 

“Oh,” you peer down at your denim jacket. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

Steve tilts his head, passing you a bundle of crumpled pink cloth. “Give this to Penelope? I’ll grab you one.” He doesn’t allow you to argue before turning around, but he stops halfway up the stairs, leaning over the railing to say, “Tell her to grab her boots too.”

You find the boots in the pile by the door and bring them to Penelope outside. She stares at you helplessly with one shoe halfway on the wrong foot. 

“Need help?”

“Yes please.” 

You take her ankle and prop her foot against yours. It takes a few tries and lots of wiggling but you slide the boot on and lace the purple strings all the way up. The second round is easier but you still wonder whether kids shoes are supposed to be this difficult. 

The door groans behind you and a warm hand cups your shoulder. “Did you eat?” Steve asks. “I can make you something before we go.”  

You rise to face him. The sky’s overcast, muting his tan complexion, making him look even more spent than he had earlier. “I ate. But thank you,” you smile, hoping to encourage one back. 

He doesn’t but he unfolds the coat he’s carrying, shaking the arms free so it’s easier for you to slip on. “See if this fits.”

It’s not your typical size, but the extra weight is nice. Traces of pine and juniper linger, like it’s been taken on a hike recently. And you’re instantly warmer, a comfort that extends beyond the garment alone. 

“Nice,” he nods, taking it upon himself to even out the hood strings for you. His fingernail skips across the zipper teeth and for a second, you think he’ll zip it up too. 

“Daddy, are we going now?” 

Steve spins on his heel, shuffling for his keys at the door. “Yes, baby. What did we talk about?” 

Penelope kicks a load of gravel into the grass. “Ummm, I dunno.” 

“No running off. If I can’t see you, we go home. Capeesh?” 

When he jogs down the steps to her side, she sighs. “Capeesh.” 

“Ready?” He pats her head, “Got your detective hat on?” 

She peers up then, a flush of fresh purpose, and nods. 

“Alright, Detective. Let’s roll.” 

Steve’s yard is embraced by dense woods on every side but the road. He leads you to the tree line where a trail has been carved smooth with frequent use. Bark stretches tall and needle branches weave a canopy of orange above. 

“Katie said I need to think more like a cat.” Penelope cranes her head up, “Do you think Cinderella went in the trees?”

“Maybe,” Steve mumbles, focused on jamming his nail under the metal tab of a can of cat food. 

“So maybe I should climb up to check?”

“Not these ones, babe. Too tall.”

“But what if she’s in one? Like, a really, really tall one.” 

“I think she’d pick a shorter one so she could get down,” you supply. “It would probably hurt her nails going all the way up there too.” 

She hums. You drift into a steady rhythm of whistling and calling Cinderella’s name. Penelope waves a toy ball with a little bell inside while you rattle the jar of treats. 

Penelope orbits off course slowly and when she hops out of sight Steve calls, “What did I say Nell?” 

“No running away!” 

He shakes his head at you, “This kid’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

You grin, turning back to him when you spot Penelope. Steve has a lovely side profile. You try to memorize the shape without tripping over any twigs as you walk. “How was she at school?” 

“Sad, they said. She cried at nap. Refused to sleep at all.” 

You coo. 

“But she ate all her lunch, so that’s good.”

You hum in agreement. 

Penelope crouches to examine the inside of a log. Her pigtails flip as she tips her head upside down. 

“Did you find something?” you ask. 

Penelope pulls something dark out, a dopey smile rounding her cheeks. “A slug.” 

Steve scrunches his nose but quickly slackens it in a poor attempt to conceal his disgust. Thankfully, you don’t have to be a good actor to fool a four-year-old. “Nice, honey.” 

“I think he’s dead.”

“Why don’t you put him back? He’s probably hibernating.” 

“Hiding? Why?”

“No, hi-ber-nat-ing. It’s when the animals go to sleep during the winter.” 

She squints, “For the whole winter?” 

“Yeah, think so.”

“How do they do that?” 

“Umm, I don’t know.” Steve glances at you for help but you only shrug. “They just do.” 

One of the joys of parenthood you’ve discovered through Penelope is the plethora of questions that you have absolutely no idea how to answer. 

Penelope replants the slug in its home, making a point to clarify, “Cinderella wasn’t in there.” 

The trail dips steadily downward, covered with a mess of broken branches, scattered pinecones, and crunchy leaves that crackle beneath your feet. Steve’s leading the way, rambling about something or other and you’d swear you’re listening if he asked. But truthfully, your eyes trace the fit of his jeans shamelessly. He has a nice ass, it’s hard not to notice! 

Your foot snags on something hard– a root, a branch, you aren’t totally sure– and it all happens so fast. You yelp and pitch forward, knees and hands slamming into the dirt with the full force of your weight. 

Steve whirls around and assesses the damage, quickly determines there are no injuries severe enough to warrant a hospital visit, and then he fucking cackles. 

You scoff, burying your own amusement as Penelope mimics him. Some example Dad is setting. At least he offers to help you up, Penelope just watches your embarrassment unfold.  

“Don’t laugh!” You yank his hand, harsh enough that he stumbles forward onto your toe. “Ow– Steve!”

“That’s what you get!” He hauls you up, grip faltering with each peel of laughter. 

You twist around yourself, sweeping your backside. “Do I have leaves on my butt?” 

He looks for as long as he deems appropriate which is not very long at all. “Just dirt and a ton of bugs.” 

“Shut up,” you smack his bicep. 

Penelope points, “That is not nice!”

“Yeah, keep your hands to yourself,” Steve teases. 

You trap a retort behind clenched teeth and look to Penelope. “Sorry.” 

“Uhh. You’re supposed to apologize to me.” 

You skip past him to Penelope’s side. “I’m helping Penelope look right now. Maybe later.” 

Steve knows you won’t see it but he hopes you feel him sticking up his middle finger. 

Penelope trudges along, the corners of her mouth drawn tight in quiet sadness. She fills the silence before you find the words.

“Do you think she’ll come home?” she asks earnestly. 

“I do, Pen. I think she’s probably just hiding.” 

“Like hide and seek?”

“Yeah.” 

She considers your words carefully. “But why?”

“I dunno. Cats are just silly like that.” 

She smiles. “Like dinosaurs?” 

You smile back. “Exactly.” 

The trees taper off, merging with the cracked sidewalk lining a cul de sac. Penelope’s ponytails are swept off her shoulders as a car whizzes by.  

You cuff her smaller fingers in your own just as Steve tells her to hold someone’s hand. 

He stops at her other side, surveying the neighborhood. It’s the type you’d imagine families live in. Basketball hoops, sidewalk chalk, bikes thrown against the lawns. 

“I’m gonna go talk to some neighbors. Will you hang some posters?” Steve asks you. “We should hurry. I think it’s going to rain soon.” 

“Can I go?” 

Steve’s eyes trail from Penelope back up to you curiously. 

“Yeah, I’ve got her.” You squeeze her hand, reassuring yourself more than anyone. 

“Okay. Penelope, be a good listener. Don’t go on the road by yourself. I’ll be just over there.” He points to a house with yellow siding and starts across the road. 

You turn Penelope by the shoulders and unzip her bag, taking the stapler in one hand and the stack of paper in the other. 

“Can you carry these?” you ask, thrusting the posters toward her. 

You straighten out the stapler and pick a sheet off the top before she braces them against her chest. “You know, this reminds me of when we first met.” 

“Because I helped you hang up stuff?”

“Mhmm.” You line the page up against a tree, nailing each corner to be sure it sticks. 

Eventually, you're passed a different poster, a painting. It’s a charming tangle of shapes and a riot of brown and orange. At the top, "MISSING" is written with two backward S’s in a crooked slope.

“Did you paint this?”

“Yes, at school.” 

“Wow. Did you write this too?” 

“Yep. My teacher helped me.” 

“Very good!” You tack it to a telephone pole and pivot to face her, brimming with pride. 

She’s not nearly as happy as you are about it. Her lips thin as she stares at her work and she hesitates before asking,“Do you think we’re bad detectives?” 

Your chest aches so sudden and fierce like you’ve been punched. You crouch, rubbing the soft fleece at her elbow. “No. No, honey. We aren’t bad detectives. Detective work just takes time. We have a lot of ground to cover.” 

Her frown wobbles, lashes shining. “It’s taking so long,” she whines. 

“I know, Pen. Cinderella didn’t leave us many clues, huh?” You swipe a tear before it reaches her mouth. You want to promise her that Cinderella will come home but your gut won’t let you. You don’t know if she really will. “Let’s go check on your Dad. See if the neighbors have seen her. Hmm?” 

She nods and you give her your best loving squeeze. 

Steve’s halfway up the steps of someone’s porch, mid-conversation with a young woman. Her frown deepens as you and Penelope approach, unlike the baby on her hip who smiles at you. 

Steve glances over before continuing. “Well, please call, if you do happen to see her.” 

“Absolutely. I hope you find her.” 

“Thanks,” he waves, descending the stairs to stand beside you.  

“No luck?” you ask, peering up at the clouds. They’re getting moodier by the minute and it’s started to sprinkle. 

His hand settles around Penelope’s skull like a claw, he shakes her frown away but not easily. “Not yet. We’ll keep looking.” 

Penelope walks a few feet ahead of you and Steve. Every few mailboxes you and Steve stick another poster up. Penelope doesn’t stop to wait, but she’s thorough in her searching, checking under cars and in drain pipes. Enough to even out the distance that grows each turn. 

You’re faced away, unclogging the jam in the stapler when Penelope gasps. 

“Nell! Wait!” Steve shouts as you turn. By then she’s already halfway up someone’s lawn.  

Steve jogs after her and you jog after Steve. Penelope’s made it to the sideyard when you catch up, stretching onto tiptoes and squinting through a rotted hole in the fence. 

“Penelope,” Steve sighs.

“I saw her Daddy! She jumped over the fence!”

“Are you sure?” His hand curls over the top of the fence but his eyes can’t reach. 

“Yes, I promise! We have to go over!” 

He scrapes through his hair, judging the wood planks. They’re at least a head taller than Steve, but there’s a thin lip dividing each in half. If he angles his foot right, he could use it to boost himself over. 

He shakes his head. He might've hopped a fence or two as a teenager, but he's grown now. “We have to ask. It’s someone’s yard.” 

Penelope wails, yanking his arm repeatedly. “No! Daddy! What if she’s gone? We have to hurry!” 

“Just go,” you wave, already backing up toward the house. “I’ll go knock. See if they’re home.” 

Steve winces at himself for what he’s about to do. But one glance at Penelope’s worried little face is all the courage he needs. He tests his grip, the sole of a shoe scraping wood for a scary second before catching on the trim. With one leg on either side, he pauses to look at Penelope. “Stay there,” he says, before leaping into the grass. 

He scans the backyard. There’s a swing set, a raised garden bed, a kiddie pool, and lots and lots of toys. It reminds him of his own yard. Steve takes a handful of hesitant steps, gaze flicking across each window for any horrified faces. He’s thankful not to see any. 

Then, a meow—faint, but unmistakable. His heart lurches, his head whipping up to the nearest tree even faster. His eyes comb through branch after branch, then again when he comes up empty. But a second meow and he’s never been more sure. He wedges his heel into a groove, hugging the trunk for balance. His nails dig uncomfortably into the bark as he pulls himself up. 

And there! Right where he swears he looked, a strip of golden-orange fur, blending seamlessly with the leaves… Except, Cinderella isn’t orange, she’s brown. Steve’s shoe slips, sending his chin hard into a thick branch on his way to the ground. The cat hisses equally if not more upset than Steve about the situation. He groans, glaring at the tree as he picks himself up. 

“Did you find her? Was it her?” Penelope yells, still peeping through the hole in the fence. 

Steve waits until he vaults back over to answer. “No, princess. Not her.” 

“Your chin,” you point out, but your words are eaten by Penelope’s shouting. 

“It was her! I know it was! I saw!” 

“It wasn’t, Nell. Promise. That cat was orange.”

“But it was! I saw her!” Penelope crumbles into hysterics, batting her fists against Steve’s thighs like they’re punching bags.  

Steve scoops her up, clamping her arms between their chests. 

“Daddy, we have to go back! I saw her!” Several gasps slice through her sentence and tears pour down her face in even streams. 

Steve shushes her gently, fanning her hood across her head as it starts to rain. You follow him up to the road and then down the street. Penelope’s relentless, squirming and screaming in his ear. It’s the first of her temper tantrums you’ve seen in person, though you’ve heard plenty about them, and you caught the beginning of one once through the phone. Steve’s more composed than you thought possible, waiting patiently until her sobs have dwindled into teary hiccups to set her down. 

“It’s not nice to hit. Even when we’re mad, you know that.”

She glares at him, more serious than you’ve ever seen. 

“Are you ready to go home?” 

Penelope’s face starts to wilt. She nearly cries again. 

“It’s too rainy. We have to go home soon or we’ll get sick.”

“Five more minutes,” she begs. 

“Okay.” He buttons her coat up to her chin. “Are you tired?” 

She shakes her head, though her eyes say otherwise. 

“Do you want me to carry you?” 

Penelope thinks long and hard. It’s a trick question. Of course she wants to be carried but God forbid Steve finds out she’s tired. 

He picks her up anyway. “You can still look from up here.” 

Penelope hooks her chin over his shoulder, cheek tipping to kiss the pad of his jacket. So much worry and too many days of poor sleep etched into each flap of her lashes. She looks utterly exhausted. And she really tries to stay awake– she needs to find Cinderella– but she lost that battle before it even started. The hiss of rain and the warm swing of Steve’s embrace send her straight to dreamland. 

Steve feels her arms slacken and slide down his back. He chances a glimpse at you to ask what he already knows but can’t. Not when you’re already watching Penelope with a type of love he believed was his alone to give. 

Alarm pulses when he registers the weight of your stare has shifted to him. The same velvet endearment skips across every feature on your face. It’s lovely and adorable but it terrifies the hell out of Steve. 

His cheeks burn and he smiles like a madman. He can’t help it. It sticks long after his eyes dart away. 

You drift into a comfortable quiet. The spray of rain is like white noise, making even you drowsy. Maybe Steve could carry you back too. It’s an amusing idea, enough to make you grin to yourself. You’re glad he doesn’t notice. He couldn't torture that information out of you. 

Halfway home, you hit a particularly steep incline in the forest, slick with the beginning sludge of mud. 

“Here,” Steve calls, boosting Penelope higher up his chest before casting his arm at you. 

You accept his hand, grateful for more reasons than one, and trace the wet shoeprints he leaves behind with your own. It’s a slow journey. Steve strains with the added weight on his front, but he doesn’t let go of you until you reach the top of the hill. 

You cross the threshold back into Steve’s yard as a bout of thunder splits the sky above. Penelope shakes awake and peels herself off Steve. She blinks unhappily, cheeks stamped with red lines mirroring his coat folds. 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, fixing her hood after it falls. 

“Cinderella,” she whimpers. 

“We’ll look again tomorrow.” 

She sniffles, voice so frail, hollow with sleep. “No. I–” 

Another wave of thunder startles her to panicked tears. Steve picks up the pace to the front door, shuffling through his pocket for the keys. He’s well-versed in unlocking the door one-handed– between groceries, backpacks, Penelope– he always has something to carry. But he’s thankful when you take the keys and do it for him. 

You scoot inside last, joining the choir of shoe squealing on the tile. 

Steve sets Penelope on the floor and kneels to unlace her boots. She wrestles with her coat zipper until Steve intervenes with much gentler hands. 

“We looked really good while you were asleep,” you promise while shedding your own coat. 

Her miserable expression doesn’t falter. 

Steve smears her tear tracks one cheek at a time. “Stay for a bit? Until the storm passes.”

You bend to collect Penelope’s coat off the floor and hang it next to yours. “Okay,” you say when you realize his words were directed at you. 

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath. Do you need anything? Water? Towel?” 

“Oh, no. I’m good. Thanks.” 

“Okay. We’ll be upstairs. Please, help yourself to whatever. Seriously.” 

When Steve disappears from view, you mosey into the living room, searching for something to keep your hands busy. And it’s not hard to find. There’s a pile of laundry that looks like it’s been trampled through more than a few times. Clothes stretch from one end of the couch to the other. You push them into a pile and get comfortable, folding each item with more care than you would your own. 

Four neat stacks later and Steve spots you from the stairs. “Please don’t do that,” he says. 

You clear your smirk as he nears. “Do what?” 

“You know what,” he snatches a sock from your grasp. It’s one of his, longer and duller than the others. “Sorry, I know it’s a mess.” 

“You know I don’t care, Steve.” 

He gazes down at you in pretend petulance. “Well, I do.” With a dramatic flick of his finger, he sends the sock sailing back into the hamper on the floor.  

“If it makes you feel better, I have a pile of clothes covering half my bed right now.”

 “Mmm. It doesn’t,” he decides. “But I came down because Penelope’s very kindly requested that you come read to her before she goes to bed. If you want to.” 

“Of course I want to.” Your lips bend into a funny little line, happy and curious and doubtful all dressed in one. “She really asked for me?” 

“Yeah,” he says in the same cadence he would duh. He offers his palm, drags you up easily. “Why’s that so hard to believe?” 

“I dunno.” A toothy smile slips onto your face before you can stop it. But your lips close as soon as you stand, pressed closer to him than you expected to be. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles, breaking away. “Come on.” 

He seemed nervous– the way he laughed, how his hands retracted like he was burned– but maybe you’re overthinking it. You forget about the interaction by the time you reach Penelope’s room. 

Several books are fanned around Penelope where she stands, like fallen petals from the stem of a flower. Her shelf has been mostly stripped. What isn’t on the floor has been scooped into a flimsy stack in her arms. 

Steve knocks on the door frame, “Ready?” 

Penelope turns and two books slide off the top of her tower. You can’t see her mouth but you can tell by her eyes that there’s a smile behind that copy of Goodnight Moon. 

“You can pick three, missy,” he says. 

“Five?” 

“Four.” 

“Four and a half?”

“Three.”

“No,” she giggles, definitely delirious. “Four.”

“Okay.” He kneels at her feet, reshelving unchosen books two or three at a time. 

It’s not an easy decision, but Penelope decides on her four and promptly thrusts them into your hands. You follow her to bed where she packs herself against the wall, politely leaving the rest of the twin mattress for you. 

“Wait!” she shouts when you open the first book, “The lights!” 

“I’m working on it,” Steve grumbles, standing to flip the light switch by the door. The room is swallowed in black apart from the nightlight glowing to life across the room. 

Penelope stretches across you to snatch something off her nightstand. A flashlight, you realize, as she clicks the switch. She trains the light on the page and beams at you with equal vibrance. 

The first story is the shortest and the second not much longer, but the third takes time. Time you get to notice the heat of her breath as she yawns into your arm and time to appreciate the weight of her head limp against your shoulder. 

You don’t have to look up to know Steve is still tidying. Every second counts when you’re a single parent. But you steal a glance in between each page anyway. Find him chucking clothes in the hamper and dumping an armload of stuffed animals onto the foot of the bed. They’ll be kicked to the floor by morning and yet he straightens them up anyhow. 

He concludes his rounds by the final pages of the fourth book, taking a seat on the floor just in time to hear you whisper, “The end.” 

Penelope bats her dark eyes up at you. She knows you’ll say yes before she even asks. “One more?” 

“No,” Steve interjects. “No more tonight, babe.”

“Pleaseee!” 

“No, you already hustled me into four. We usually only read two.” 

“Pretty please!” she adds, puppy dog eyes bouncing from Steve to you. 

Oh the cruelty. To defy Steve or disappoint Penelope. Both are terrible choices but only one of the pair currently has a heartbreaking little pout. 

“I’ll read one more really really short book if you promise to go to sleep after?” 

Her head bobs eagerly as she kicks the blankets off, springing to her feet.

Steve’s head flops against the sheets, hair like satin ribbons shining from root to end. You consider if it’s as soft as you assume and if you’ll ever have the chance to find out. 

“Supposed to be on my side,” he whispers through a gooey grin. 

“Am I?” 

He tuts, craning up to find Penelope. “Don’t take all of those back out. I just cleaned them up.”

She exchanges the two in her hand for a thick chapter book. 

“No ma’am,” Steve says as she turns. “Short one, ‘member?”

Penelope huffs and lugs herself back to the bookcase. She plucks a thinner paperback and uses Steve’s calf as a stool to launch herself back in bed. He doesn’t complain but he pinches her side in revenge. 

The book mirrors the length of tonight’s first, yet it takes double the time for your own selfish reasons. You linger on each word, emphasize each sound, and savor every second. Penelope is nestled against your hip as you read the final sentence, sleepy and oblivious that you’ve turned the last page. 

Steve pulls himself up to perch on the edge of the bed, mindful not to sit on anyone’s legs. He runs the back of his hand across her face, giving her nose an extra tap. Enough times and it’ll put her to sleep. 

“Can you say thanks, Nell? And goodnight.” 

She squirms away from his touch, pushing into your thigh. “I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

“Pen, remember our deal.” You squeeze her shoulder gently. “You promised, hmm?”

You swallow the urge to smile when she juts her lip out and frowns. The drama never ends with this one but you love it. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Your hand glides over the shape of her arm beneath the blanket. “I had fun reading to you.” 

She avoids your gaze, picking a loose string from her blanket. If she sees you grinning, she’ll end up grinning too. She can’t have that, she’s protesting. “Night.” 

Steve shakes his head dismissively at you, grinning fondly himself. “I’ll be down in a second,” he explains. 

You stand, slotting the book back in its home on the shelf and steal one last glimpse of them on your way out. A trail of nightlights guides you to the stairs like beacons. You end up in the kitchen, hands braced on the sink, eyes drifting around the backyard through the window.

There’s a patio with chairs and string lights. In the grass, a trampoline, a sandbox, and a toddler-sized picnic bench, all draped in purple moonlight and sparkling with rain. It’s easy to imagine life here. Birthday parties and cookouts and lazy Sunday afternoons. 

The swish of sock against tile knocks you from the fantasy. You locate Steve’s reflection in the glass.

“You better not be doing my dishes.” 

Your lips flex instinctually at his voice. “I thought about it.” 

He leans back against the counter, hip a hand’s width from yours. Strips of hair sag across his forehead like a botched set of bangs. Your height difference and the angle only accentuate how silly he looks. 

“What?” Steve smiles. 

You huff through your own. “Nothin’.” 

“Why are you laughing then?” 

“I’m not. Just…” you reach for his face but the courage fades halfway. You wave obtusely instead. “This hair,” you finish. 

He flattens the piece down, then another, combing more and more over his face like a real pair of bangs until the ends graze the ball of his nose. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Oh, it’s awful, Steve. Put it back.” 

“I dunno. Thinking of changing it up anyway.”

You shake your head, peeling your eyes away from him. “Stupid.” 

Stupidly gorgeous, you decide. He’s a mess, no doubt; rumpled and sweaty, and still, stupidly, impossibly gorgeous. 

He rakes his hair back where it belongs, “You’re too good to me, you know.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Your gaze remains on the window but you watch Steve in your peripherals. “I’m the perfect amount of good to you.” 

“Well, agree to disagree. But, thank you for coming over to help look. Really I–”

You face him fully then. “Steve, you don’t have to thank me.” 

“No, I do. Really, you’re… you’re great and it’s been nice, you know, having help. Even just having company. It hasn't been easy making friends the last few years.”

Your brain stalls at his choice of words. You spout the first thing that comes to mind. “That’s what friends are for, right?” The words sting like acid on your tongue but you smile anyway. You’re pretty sure your heart just split itself in half on the way to the friend zone. 

He hums, pushing off the counter toward the fridge. “Let me return the favor, please. I’ll make you whatever you want. Spaghetti, PB ‘n J, uhh, pre-packaged salad?”

“I’m good, Steve. I ate earlier. And you don’t need to return the favor.” 

He sets a jar of jelly on the counter. “Your loss. Penelope says I make the best PB ‘n J’s.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” 

You settle at the kitchen table and watch him work unapologetically. His focus is entirely on a one-sided debate about the perfect peanut butter-to-jelly ratio, leaving him oblivious to your ogling.

He plops down in the chair across from yours when he’s finished. “Sure you don’t want some? You can have half of mine.” 

“Steve.” 

“Okay,” he sings and takes a bite. 

You watch the slow drip of water from the eaves. The rain has subsided enough that you could go, but neither of you suggest it. Your mind is elsewhere. Stuck on friends. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” Steve chuckles when you blink back to reality. “Did you hear me? I was–”

The trill of the phone interrupts. 

“I’m holding my thought. Don’t go anywhere.” Steve abandons his sandwich and crosses the room, pulling the phone from the counter. “Hello?... Uh-huh… Yes, yes.”

The sudden shift in his tone catches your attention. He sounds borderline ecstatic. 

“Okay. I’ll be right over. Thank you!” 

“Who was it?” you ask.

He snaps the receiver back into place. “A neighbor saw her just now.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes! Well, they’re pretty sure it’s her. It sounded like her, how they described. Are you able to stay here while I go check? I don’t wanna wake Penelope up.” 

You don’t even think about it when you insist, “Of course. Go!” 

“I’ll be right back. Thank you!” He squeezes your shoulder and jogs out of the kitchen. The sound of jangling keys fades with the closing of the front door and before you’ve processed it, you’re alone in Steve’s house. 

It’s a strange thing, being in Steve’s house without Steve. You’re not technically alone, Penelope is still tucked in bed upstairs, of course. But the silence is thick, suffocating even. So you’re admittedly glad when you hear tiny footsteps from upstairs. 

On the bottom step, Penelope freezes and her hand tightens around the railing, not expecting you to be there. “Where’s Daddy?” she mewls at you, bottom lip quivering against her words. 

“It’s okay. He went out to look some more, that’s all.” 

“I want Daddy,” she whines, breath hitching in between words. 

“He’ll be right back, sweetheart. I promise.” 

A sob wracks her chest, tears escaping as she scrunches her eyes. Sniffles cut through a mush of sounds, woven between them, she pleads, “When?”

“Oh, honey. Come here.” You hoist her up against your chest instinctually. It feels like the right thing to do, and it must be– her arms wind underneath yours like puzzle pieces. “Real soon,” you reassure. 

You hope so anyway. Half for Penelope’s sake and half for yours. You’re afraid to overstep, to parent her in a way Steve wouldn’t approve of. You feel the echoes of his constant self-doubt in your own mind. But you’ll try your best until he returns. 

Penelope’s not heavy, but it is the first time you’ve carried another human down a set of stairs. It’s a slow descent with lots of maneuvering and readjusting limbs so you can see the steps ahead but she doesn’t seem to mind. By the time you make it to the sectional, your arms burn. Still, you’d do it ten times over just so she doesn’t have to walk herself.  

She sweeps her runny nose across your sleeve and her knee digs uncomfortably into your ribcage but you can’t find it in yourself to mind. She feels safe enough with you to do so. It’s a compliment more than anything. And the weight of her head against you is a type of soothing you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. 

Your fingertips trace the shape of her shoulder blades through her nightgown. “Did you have a bad dream?” you whisper. 

She draws similar lazy patterns on your arm, pausing to hum yes. 

You hum back. “‘M sorry, Pen. Wanna talk about it? Might help.”

She shakes her head, the slightest movement against your collar. 

“Okay, I got you. Don’t have to worry,” you whisper and pat her head. “I won’t let any more bad dreams get in here.” 

Steve’s gone long enough to fuel your nerves and keep your mind buzzing, though your eyes beg for the sweet release of sleep. Penelope’s not helping, like a warm, weighted blanket on your chest. She’s barely awake herself when he arrives, but you’re surprised she’s awake at all. You aren’t sure what time it is but it’s definitely late. 

Two clicks from the front door’s lock and a Steve-shaped shadow slides inside. He’s being particularly quiet, like when tries to sneak up on you at the rec center. Like a ninja, he always says. 

Penelope’s head shoots up to peer over the couch. “Daddy?”

Steve stops in his tracks, but his head snaps in your direction. When his eyes confirm his ears he starts toward the couch, waiting until he can sit to coo, “Hey, baby. Hey.” A hand scoops a piece of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing up sleepyhead?” 

Penelope splinters off of your chest but remains situated on your thighs. She offers several half-lidded blinks to Steve. “You didn’t find her?” 

He melts like her eyes are made of sunbeams, reaching up to thumb sleep from under her lashes. “No, baby. Someone thought they did but it wasn’t her. I went to make sure.” 

“Oh,” she says, not sad, just tired. Penelope slowly leans over to him like a bridge, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tows her into his lap. 

He looks at you then. A long look. An expression you're having a hard time untangling. His eyes flutter back down when Penelope yawns. “Have to go to bed, okay?” he whispers into her crown, planting a kiss while he’s there. 

“I wanna sleep in your room.”

“That’s fine but I’m not laying down yet. You still have to go to sleep.” 

She nods against his chin. 

“I’ll carry you up. Can you say goodnight?” 

Penelope turns so you can see one side of her face, the other glued to Steve’s sweater. 

“Goodnight,” you wave and smile softly. 

She only shudders out a sigh but manners aren’t on Steve’s mind, especially when he knows you wouldn’t care about that. His knees crack as he stands, hiking her up higher before he heads upstairs. 

You yank a blanket from the arm of the couch, missing the warmth Penelope lent you. It’s a risky move when you’re already fighting to keep your eyes open. 

But Steve’s back before you have time to fall asleep. He’s trampling down the steps with a confidence that Penelope’s out for good this time. And he flops onto the couch with the same heaviness, sighing like you’ve never heard. Pure frustration. It’s understandable. But odd off his lips. 

“You okay?” you ask, the same syrupy sweetness you’d used with Penelope.  

He turns to face you and he looks awfully sad. The rainwater clinging to the ends of his hair doesn’t help. But he nods anyway because he’s Steve. “It was a stupid raccoon.” 

“You’re kidding? They thought it was a cat?” 

“I should’ve known,” he scrubs his face. “Practically senile that lady.” 

“You’ll find her, Steve.” 

He takes a deep breath and swallows. “I don’t know anymore. I’m really starting to think worst-case scenarios.” 

You press your lips into a firm line. It’s a possibility you don’t want to consider. “Why don’t I go look a little longer? I’m off–”

“No, please,” he leans over to cradle the shell of your knee. “You’ve helped all night. I mean this in the nicest way possible, you look exhausted.”

“Way to treat a guest, Harrington,” you smirk, peeling his pointer finger off your leg to hook it under your own. 

He squeezes your finger like a trigger, shifting focus between your hands and face. “Go home, rest, please.” 

“You sure?”

“Hundred percent. Rain’s let up so the drive shouldn’t be too bad.” 

“Promise you’ll get some rest too?” 

He smiles despite the pang in his chest and the ache behind his eyes. You're the first to show him this kind of care in years. “I will. I promise.” He releases your finger, binding your pinky with his instead. 

There’s something unreal about the way you smile back at him. Like you’ve entranced him with a spell. Steve believes in a lot of things– superpowers, demogorgans, parallel dimensions– but this is the first time he’s ever believed in pinky promise magic. 

He shakes his head, “Come on.” 

You take his hand, groaning in sync as he helps you up. 

In the foyer, Steve unhooks the coat he’d lent you earlier. “Here.” And before you can contend, he adds, “Keep it. It’s an extra. I don’t need it.” 

You let him guide your arms into the sleeves. And the same deliriousness possesses you to spring in for a hug after. “It’ll be okay, Steve,” you murmur, lips skimming the embroidered design across his chest. 

He deflates for half a second before reciprocating. “I know,” he says. “Thank you.” 

You wait until he softens to pull away and open the door. 

The wind whips and howls blowing a wave of mist onto the other end of the porch. Steve scans the yard, then the road, both slick with rain. He asks himself if it’s a good enough reason to ask you to stay. But he decides it isn’t, not yet, at least. 

“Call me when you get home?” 

A wild smile splits your lips. “Okay,” you blink stupidly, too tired to care. 

“Careful!” he shouts as you run to your car. Steve leans against the doorframe, loitering until your headlights flash his house and your car rolls out of the driveway. 

It’s only sprinkling but streetlights are scarce near Steve’s place so you turn your high beams on, highlighting lawns on either side of the road. You drive slowly, inspecting one yard, then the one opposite, hopeful that Cinderella’s still out there. 

There’s a stop sign at the end of Steve’s street. A landmark you know to make a left at. But you decide to go right. I wanted to take the scenic route, you’ll say if Steve asks. You drive that road and the one beside it and another beside that. 

And it’s only a few turns away when you spot something sort of cat-shaped laid at the end of a driveway. 

“Please do not be a raccoon,” you mumble, squinting as you inch the car closer. The longer you look the more it makes sense– two ears, a wavy tail, it’s definitely a cat. “No way.” 

You put the car in park across from the house and study it. It bats its tail against the concrete, staring lazily back at your car. There’s just no way, not after all that looking. You find her after what, ten minutes of driving? It just can’t be her. 

You push your door open gingerly, slipping onto the asphalt one foot at a time. The cat perks up, ears twitching with each crunch under your shoes. You slink over slowly, crouching into an uncomfortable crab walk when she stands. Brown coat, no collar, just as she’s been described to you. But it’s hard to say. You’ve only seen one picture of her and it was out of focus. There’s no way to really know it’s her. 

Honking a few streets away slices the silence and your focus in one go. You flinch back a step which spooks the cat. She scampers up the driveway, weaving underneath a car to the other end of the yard. 

You stick as low to the ground as you can while skipping after her. You’d guess you look ridiculous, but at least Steve isn’t here to see. The car blocks the view and you lose her by the time you reach the other side. But there’s a swirl of shrubbery, good for hiding probably. You blindly grapple for branches, blinking rapidly, slowly adjusting to the growing darkness the farther you move from your car’s headlights.

And then the porch light flickers on, spotlighting you digging through a random person’s bushes.  

“Shit.” You freeze, hand choking a wreath of leaves, embarrassment flaring hot and red through your entire body. A minute passes, then two. Everything’s still. No cat, no angry homeowners, no police cars. You decide it’s safe. Must’ve been an automatic light. You hope, anyway. 

Upon further inspection, the bushes are empty, and from what you can see the porch is too. There are a few trees but it’s difficult to make out any cats through the dark web of branches. A sudden gust of wind shakes a handful of leaves loose. Your eyes track them across the yard as they tumble back toward the driveway. And there’s the damn cat, sitting on the roof of the car like it was there the whole time. 

“You better not set that alarm off, dude,” you grumble. 

She narrows her eyes and growls as you draw closer. Cinderella is irritable– this makes sense. Or it’s a totally random feral cat who is about to claw your eyes out. 

You’re within touching distance when you realize you have no plan. She very likely could claw your eyes out or give you rabies or something else awful. But you're in it now. You’re gonna get Penelope her cat back. So you shrug Steve’s coat off cautiously, eyes never leaving the cats. It’s raining again, you realize as it starts pelting your neck, trickling like ice down your shirt. But that’s the least of your worries right now. 

“Nice kitty,” you whisper, unfolding the jacket. 

She hisses as you lean in but before she can pounce or swipe you throw the jacket over her and scoop her off her feet. She goes stiff and growls low and throaty. 

You speed walk to your car, toeing the cracked door open and maneuvering carefully into your seat. The jacket peels open as you shut the door. She sees an opportunity and takes it, nosing her way through the hole and under your elbow. There’s a shine of teeth as she bats your face, dragging a sharp set of claws against your cheek. 

“No, no– shit! I swear if you don’t,” you argue, cramming her arms back in the fabric one at a time, tucking and tightening until she’s secure. 

She huffs through her nose, glaring menacingly at you from her swaddle. 

“Cinderella– if you’re even Cinderella– which you better be! You’re being a real jerk right now.”

She growls in response. Steve wasn’t lying about her attitude. 

You shift the car into gear one-handed and forgo a seatbelt. It’s a short ride and you’ve maxed out your risk-taking meter for the night. While it really is a short drive, it goes dreadfully slow. You’re cold and wet and you feel like you are driving with a bomb strapped to your chest. 

Getting out of the car is just as easy, as in not easy at all, as getting in. But you make it to Steve’s porch, surging the cat further up your chest so there are no last-minute getaways. You tap gently on the door with your toe, hoping not to disturb Penelope. 

The instant the door opens, you squeeze by Steve and release the cat onto the floor. She scampers ahead a few feet before stopping to turn around. “Tell me this is the right cat and I didn’t just kidnap some other kid’s pet.” 

He shoves the door closed. “Oh my God! Where the hell did you find her?” 

You exhale with one big slump of your shoulders, all the worry bleeding away. “Like, five minutes down the road. Just hanging out in someone’s driveway.” 

Steve gawks, crouching and coaxing her closer with an open palm. 

She considers his invitation before striding into his touch. 

He strokes her from head to tail and back. “I can’t believe you. I was about to make funeral arrangements.” 

Cinderella chirps happily. 

Steve twists to look up at you. For a second you think he might cry. Or kiss you. 

He promptly stands and cups your jaw and your stomach tumbles because he might actually kiss you. But he aims your cheek against the light instead and whispers, “You’re bleeding.” 

“Oh,” you tap around your cheek blindly, “It’s just a scratch.” 

“Here. Come here.”

You follow him to the bathroom where he pulls a towel from the closet and drapes it around your shoulders like a shawl. 

“You’re wet,” he says like you don’t already know. 

You tug the fraying ends taut across your chest and watch him dig through the medicine cabinet. “If only someone let me borrow their coat.” 

“If only,” he snickers, dumping the contents of the first aid kit in the sink. “I’m sorry Cinderella beat you up. She really has no manners.” He strips the plastic cover off a Barbie-themed bandaid and lines it up with your scratch, pressing, and smoothing it over your skin gingerly. 

“How hideous do I look? Scale of one to ten.” 

He shakes his head, smiling at you like an idiot. You make him smile like it’s your only job. And it sends his heart flying every time. He feels out of control around you. He hates feeling that way but somehow you make it easy. 

“You could never be hideous.” Steve chuckles, still in disbelief. “You're amazing.”

Any cold lingering on your face evaporates. “Don’t go soft on me, Harrington,” you tease. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline buzz of chasing Cinderella or the high of successfully catching her, but you feel like you could do anything. Like you could say anything to him. Your eyes trickle down to his lips. He’s close enough to kiss. Every nerve in your body dares you to do it. You don’t think he’d reject you. Maybe he’d even meet you halfway. 

A high-pitched scream severs the moment. 

Steve jerks away, alarmed and then quickly amused. “Penelope,” he grins. 

And right on cue, Penelope whizzes by the open door, squeals ricocheting down the hall. She chases Cinderella, who does not look happy to be chased, but Steve allows it. 

“Daddy! Cinderella’s back! Look!” She clips her shoulder on the stair post before disappearing into the kitchen 

He turns to you, beaming. He hopes you understand how amazing you are. He’d happily tell you again and again. 

Penelope races out, heaving through a smile with the jar of treats. She sprays the entire contents of it across the floor. Steve can’t even be mad. In fact, it’s the happiest he’s been all week. 

She lies down on her back, eyes skipping between you and Steve. “How did she get here?” 

“I saw her on my way home. She was just a few streets away.” 

“Wow. She’s really good at hide and seek,” Penelope decides. 

Cinderella prances over, using Penelope’s belly as a personal vault. Penelope splays her hand out, patting and petting to her heart's content as Cinderella munches on the treats. 

Steve squats, cupping a handful of them back into the jar. 

“No, Daddy! It’s her prize.”

“Her prize will make her sick if she eats it all.”

“Okay. I guess.” She giggles as Cinderella pushes a treat with her paw. 

Steve squeezes her knee where it wiggles, raising his eyebrows, “What do you say?”

Penelope turns to you with a wicked grin. She practically screams, “Thank you!”

“You're very welcome.”

Penelope pushes herself up and cocks her head. “Will you stay and play with us?” 

It’s entirely innocent and equally adorable. You appreciate Steve for being the bad guy. 

“Nuh-uh. You’re supposed to be in bed,” he reminds her. 

She whines and shoots him a mean look. But it doesn’t last. Cinderella is back. That’s all she really cares about right now. 

“You can play with Cinderella in the morning.” His eyes flicker between the two like they’re made of gold. “Maybe she’ll even sleep in your room.” 

Penelope’s eyes and mouth widen into three little O’s. “Really!” 

“Yes. She can stay inside from now on. But! You have to train her, be a good cat mom to her.” 

“I will, I will,” she nods so relentlessly her head might pop off. “I promise I’ll be the bestest cat mom ever in the whole entire world!” 

Steve chuckles, gaze dancing over to you. He looks at you like you’re made of gold too. That’s an intense realization. 

“I should head home,” you say. 

Steve nods, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. 

“Bye, Penelope! Bye, Cinderella!” 

Penelope shackles Cinderella’s arm and forces her into a rigid wave. “Bye-bye!” 

Steve follows you out to the front porch, snapping the door shut when Cinderella trots after him. 

“Good luck keeping her inside.”

“Yeah,” he shakes his head, hand dropping from the door handle. “I’m sure she’ll escape by morning.” 

Your gaze sweeps across the lawn. It’s only drizzling now, almost unnoticeably through the overcast veil of moonlight. 

“Oh, here,” you tug one end of the towel until it slides off your neck. 

Steve accepts it tentatively, “Maybe you should keep it. Case she gets out again.” 

“Yeah, guess I’d need something to catch her with, huh?”

His teeth seem to glow in the moonlight when he smiles. He slings the towel back over your head and smooths it across your shoulders. “I know I’ve said this like a million times today,” he trails off, rubbing the fabric up and down your arms. “But I’m gonna say it again.” He looks up, dreadfully serious. Your eyes lock like magnets, like he’s specially polarized yours to stay tethered to his. “First of all, thank you for everything, seriously.”

“It’s no problem, Steve, really.” 

“I know, I just,” his attention drifts away, tension seeping in through the silence. “I think you’re like the coolest person ever.” 

You shake your head and shift your weight from one foot to the other, desperately trying to shake out the scary feeling in your gut.

A warm hand clasps yours. “I mean it. You’re so amazing and are just a super genuine person and– and I care a lot about you.” 

Your pulse hammers so hard you wonder if he can hear it. The icy bite of rain clinging to your clothes turns hot. Hot enough to boil every drop of it off your skin. 

“I dunno, it’s just really hard to make friends as a single parent. You’ve been so kind. And I really appreciate that.” 

Your heart aches. Your eyes sting. That awful feeling triples. Friends, how could you forget? 

He drops your hand, knotting his own fingers together instead. Watching you, waiting for a response. 

You smile, brittle but convincing enough that he smiles back. “Well, that’s really sweet. I’m happy to help. And, for the record, I think you’re super cool too.” You punch his shoulder playfully. Because that’s what friends do. 

“Phew, that’s a relief. Was starting to think you were getting sick of us.”

You smile genuinely then. You don’t think it’s possible to ever get sick of them. “Ehh, I’m still warming up to Cinderella but Penelope’s my favorite, no offense.” 

“No, she’s pretty cool.” He nods, pausing to think. “You can come over tomorrow– if you aren’t busy. If you want to. We’ll probably go buy some cat stuff. I dunno, it’s cool if you can’t.”

“I’d love to, Steve.” 

He laughs in soft little layers. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“See you then.”

“See ya.”

You spin on your heel, scurrying down the porch steps faster than you probably should. Forget the rain, Steve’s what you're running from. His laugh and his dopey smile and his overly kind words. You’re too young to die of a heart attack, but surely your heart won’t last much more of this. 

When you tug the handle of your car door, he yells, “Don’t forget to call me!” 

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling and flash him a thumbs-up before getting in. He’s such an idiot. Probably waking his neighbors up yelling like that. It’s probably unhealthy, the amount of emotions you’ve just experienced in the span of a few minutes. 

But already all you can think about is tomorrow. It seems like lightyears away, but you’d wait lightyears for Steve– even for just friends Steve– silly as it sounds.

[earthrealsvn]

taking care of you when you're drunk

in which the Haikyuu!! pretty setter squad take care of you during/after a night of drinking.

category: post time-skip!!! (except Suga bc that’s a college!au), fluff, crack

warning(s): mentions/use of alcohol, vomiting in Akaashi’s, perhaps Suga’s and Kageyama’s could be seen as suggestive at parts but i promise they’re not meant to be

w.c: 3.5k all together

a/n: hello! i haven't posted in forever but don't perceive that. most of these are based off of things i’ve said and/or done, except i didn’t have a partner to care for me during or afterwards. as stated above, this is post time skip, aside from Suga’s which is a college!au, so all the boys are a legal age to drink. anyways, enjoy the boys taking care of a drunk reader!

—

Sugawara Koshi

you laugh as you nearly tip over on your way to the bathroom, the sound of your friends cheering behind you ringing in your ears. you had all just started your last year of college and decided that it was worth celebrating. so, you offered up your apartment for the night, fully intent on having a good time before stress came to kick your ass.

another laugh bubbles in your throat as you misstep, landing on what was thankfully your bed. though now, your predicament is how you were to get back up. you give it two attempts and whine when you’re unsuccessful. it shouldn’t be that hard to stand, you do it all the time! planting your feet on the floor, another try is made, but you’re still incapable. tears spring into your eyes despite the fading rational part of you knowing it’s really not something to cry over. the drunken majority of you, though, is ready to throw a full-on fit.

but before you can even make a sound, someone’s taking your hands in theirs and gently pulling you to your feet. a stupid grin makes its way onto your face when you realize it’s your boyfriend, Sugawara Koshi.

“Ko!” you squeal, throwing your arms around his torso and squeezing. his laugh is as gentle as his return of the hug, but the teasing undertone is obvious. “didn’t think you’d show.” the words are muffled due to your cheek being squished into his chest.

“i got off early enough, so i figured i’d come see what my baby is up to.” his lips press themselves to the crown of your head to lay a brief kiss before he’s pulling away. “why were you on your bed instead of having fun, hm?”

you gasp when your original quest is remembered. “had to pee.” you begin a definitely not straight line towards your bathroom, laughing. you nearly slammed your hip into your nightstand along the way, but Suga’s hands placed themselves on your waist, guiding you the rest of the way to your destination.

there’s a brief fumble for the lightswitch until your bathroom light turns on, Suga having pressed it before you. he closes the door to give some privacy whilst you take care of your business, and you appreciate it until you come across a hurdle.

“hey Ko?” he hums from the other side of the door. “i can’t unbutton my pants.”

he can’t stop his laugh, and it only increases at your impatient whine. he steps through the doorway and tugs you closer, deft fingers unbuttoning your pants for you. he steps out again afterwards, letting you relieve your bladder in peace.

“can you button them by yourself?” he asks once the sound of the sink goes off and you groan at his teasing. he gets his answer once you open the door, pants already taken care of. “good job, sweetheart.” he coos, cupping your face and squishing your cheeks.

“shut,” you don’t even finish the rest of your sentence as you pull away and toddle back to the living room. he follows behind, hands hovering above your hips just in case drunk you decides to take another tumble.

“hey, Y/N, we’re taking shots!” your friend shouts from the kitchen and you squeak in delight. the silver-haired male walks into the kitchen with you to find your friends gathered at the counter with the shot glasses in front of them. “you want your favorite?” you nod in response, leaning against Suga in order to have some support.

as the shots are being poured, a noise of realization leaves you. “oh, Ko, you should take some too!” your head tilts back to look at your boyfriend, a drunken grin on your face.

“alright, but not too many.” he agrees, pecking your forehead.

“lame,” you laugh and an endearing smile plays on his lips as he stares down at you.

“well, someone has to make sure you don’t die,” a hand comes up to pinch your cheek and you shriek, trying to pull it off. you’re unsuccessful, obviously; you don’t have much strength when drunk and Suga still has all of his slight muscles from high school volleyball and working out regularly.

you still accept the shot glass he gives you, though, and a friend gives a half-assed toast and a countdown before everyone knocks their shots back, the familiar tingle of alcohol sliding down your throat. you also don’t protest the water Suga raises to your lips afterwards either, taking a few sips to help neutralize the taste.

it’s midnight but Suga knows the party’s just begun.

—

Oikawa Tooru

“i’m on the floor,” you mutter out once more, head falling against the wood of the island. “‘m drunk ‘n on the floor.”

“yes, you are drunk and on the floor, sweetie.” the familiar hands of Oikawa Tooru, your boyfriend, settle in your hair and massage at your scalp. a happy hum leaves your throat and you raise your heavy head to smile at what you think is his direction.

“‘s’all blurry,” drunken laughter laces your words and Oikawa can only shake his head endearingly. “wanna nap.”

he barely manages to catch you as you topple over sideways, body desperately trying to meet the ground. the rest of your friends laugh at your antics and Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a shit-eating grin. everyone knows you’ve drank too much too fast, but your week leading up to the New Year’s party had been stressful and you wanted to forget. so now, here you were, collapsed in your boyfriends’ arms, too intoxicated to do much.

“do you wanna move to the couch, sweetie?” your boyfriend asks, hand rubbing your side. he has to lean in to catch your mumbled response, but he’s able to detect the agreement. “okay, i’m gonna lift you now, alright?”

“uh-huh.”

he lifts you up into a princess carry and makes his way to the couch. as soon as your back meets the cushions and Oikawa’s arms move, you snuggle yourself onto your side, barely able to remember that laying on your back drunk could kill you if you start puking. your boyfriend settles himself onto the floor in front of you and pulls out his phone. he starts to scroll through social media but is quickly distracted by the incessant poking at his shoulder your fingers are doing.

“can i help you?” he raises a brow as he turns to face you, holding back a coo at the sight of your squished face.

“wanna watch—” the rest of your sentence is mumbled but Oikawa figures you’re wanting to watch your favorite show. he decides it’s better to entertain you than have a drunken partner complaining at him for however long. so he obliges, switching to the streaming service and holding the phone where you can see it comfortably.

a delighted laugh slips out of your mouth and the hand that was poking him falls limp onto his arm, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his sweater.

as you watch the show, he watches you, internally hoping you don’t throw up on him you’re sober enough for a New Year’s kiss.

—

Kenma Kozume

your panicked yells cause Kenma’s eyes to leave his game and travel up to you, the spike of concern diminishing as soon as he realized why you were making said noises. in your current round of Just Dance, you’re barely able to keep up with the moves showing on the screen, body tilting dangerously to the right. the friend that’s joining you is doing better in terms of score, but they’re practically in your space, nearly punching you every time they move their arm.

the cat-like boy shakes his head with a sigh and returns to his game, determined to finally beat the boss that’s been killing him all month. he’s so focused on the battle that he doesn’t realize your round is done until someone drapes their body over his, distracting him enough to lose. eye twitching, he turns to yell at them only to see a large, stupid grin on your face.

“Kyanma, come dance with me!” you exclaim through hiccups.

“i don’t want to. i’m trying to beat this—” he starts to turn back to his handheld but stops at the sound of your voice.

“you— don’t you love me?” tears spring to your eyes and Kenma whips his head back around to look at you again. “i love you Kenma, i want you to dance with me!” you’re wailing now and Kenma panics, setting his handheld down so he can pat your head. it doesn’t quite work, however, and the sound of your cries are drawing attention.

“Y/N,” Kenma sighs and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “i’ll dance with you after this boss, okay puddin’?”

sniffling, you quiet down before hiccuping again, “promise?”

“promise,” he agrees, pulling your face closer in order to press a kiss to your forehead. “just give me a few minutes.”

he lifts his handheld back up and returns to his last save before the boss, once again determined to win. from beside him, you wipe your nose on your sleeve (something you can only stand to do when you’re drunk, he’s noticed) and fit yourself into his side to watch. just before entering the battle zone, Kenma glances around to see if anyone’s watching before tucking you under his arms and into his chest, ignoring your giggle of delight.

as the battle goes on, he lets you babble drunken advice, laughing quietly if he finds it funny. you cheer when he lands hits and gasp when his character takes damage, hands clinging to his sleeves in excitement. although he’s ultimately focused more on the game, he still gives you fleeting kisses on your head.

when he finally wins, you applaud him before bouncing up, tugging on his arm to get him to stand. he makes sure he saves before turning the device off and stands up to follow you to the center of the living room. you hand him a controller with a beam while your friend bounces up to join. just before you select the song, Kenma silently sighs to himself.

he hates doing too much physical activity, especially things he doesn’t enjoy doing, but he loves you too much to say no.

—

Tobio Kageyama

a sigh and a “oi, stop squirming!” echoes in your ears as Kageyama tries to help you change. he’s been trying to get you into pajamas for the past three minutes, but you’re making it difficult by moving every time he reaches out to remove your clothes.

“but Tobio, it tickles!” a whine is laced into your words, feet kicking lightly.

“grin and bear it then, idiot. you can’t wear this to bed.”

“watch me you a—” you don’t get to finish your sentence as Kageyama lightly pins you down, forcing your clothes off you and tugging on your pajamas right after. “Tobio!”

he grunts in response, tossing your clothes into the laundry basket. you continue to pout and whine as he lifts you off the bed so he can carry you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter. he prepares your toothbrush and turns back to you, offering a ‘open’ as he holds it to your lips. although a part of you wants to refuse, you’re starting to get sleepy, so you oblige, letting him gently brush your teeth, spitting out the toothpaste when told.

you fall in and out of sleep as he goes through your night routine, and the next time you fully come to, he’s lifting you again to bring you to bed. you hum contentedly, grinning at him when he places you back onto your bed. he returns it with a rare smile that he reserves for you and gets under the covers on his side. he lets you find a position that won’t be uncomfortable for your drunk self before he lays with you. it’s quiet for a while, the two of you taking in the comfortable silence until you speak up.

“i’m gonna be so fucking hungover tomorrow.”

beside you, Kageyama snorts, “yeah, you had way too much,” his hand pats your head, “but i’ll take care of you, i suppose. make you some eggs or avocado toast or something.”

“you can barely cook. you burnt water.”

“that was one damn time!” he snapped, giving you a squeeze, “you distracted me!”

“whatever. jus’ don’t mess up my breakfast,”

“i won’t, dumbass. i love you,” you feel his lips on the top of your head and you finally succumb to sleep.

—

Akaashi Keiji

you dart up from your comfortable position on the couch, hand clamping over your mouth. everything is still blurry and your head is pounding, but the need to throw up is fast approaching in your throat.

“Keiji! Keiji i need—” you pause to breathe, hearing rushed footsteps as your boyfriend pops into view from the kitchen.

“darling? what’s wrong?”

“bucket,” you mutter, hand returning to your mouth. thankfully, Akaashi is a quick thinker, and he realizes what’s going on. turning back to the kitchen, he cringes when he realizes the only thing large enough is the freshly washed popcorn bowl. biting his lip, he tries to find something else, anything else, but your whine has him snatching the bowl and running to you.

he gets there in the nick of time, and you lean over the bowl as everything you’ve just ate and drank came out. he rubs your back in comfort but ultimately isn’t too surprised — you drank a lot without the ideal amount of food in your body.

“ew,” you lift your head and Akaashi moves the bowl to the ottoman in front of you in case it’s needed again. “Keiji, why does alcohol tase funny?”

“i don’t know, love,” he sits next to you as he replies, letting your body fall onto his lap. he knows it probably won’t do much, but he places his hand on your stomach and gives it little rubs, hoping it can at least supply comfort.

your friend rounds the corner and lets out a whistle upon seeing the bowl. you hiss and flip them off tiredly, trying to sleep it off.

“how long do you think they’ll be like this?” your friend asks.

“i’m hoping it’s just for two to three hours, any more and i’ll be concerned.”

“well… they really went for it so i’m just hoping they don’t die.”

a huff of agreement comes from Akaashi. before he can say anything else, you’re launching yourself back up and hunching over the bowl. your friend audibly cringes and returns to the party in the kitchen whilst Akaashi resumes rubbing your back. both of you know that this is the last thing either of you want to be doing at a birthday party, especially the one for a specific owl lookalike.

thinking back to how smashed Bokuto is, though, Akaashi doesn’t think he’ll mind if the two of you are missing for a few hours while you spill your guts into your popcorn bowl.

“i think… i think i want a… a new popcorn bowl Keiji,” you pant as you settle back onto his lap. he feels bad, but he can’t help the grin on his face at how small you look and act right now.

“yeah?”

“mhm. don’t wanna think of puke whenever i eat some.”

“understandable,” Akaashi leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. when he sits up fully again, he mentally prepares himself for the next few hours of your misery.

when you next sit up to vomit, Akaashi is there to rub your back. he’s thinking it might not be so bad until a shout from the kitchen has him groaning.

“hey hey HEY, Akaashi! i threw up, man!”

—

Atsumu Miya

you stared blankly at Atsumu as he doubled over laughing, slapping his thigh repeatedly. on the other hand, you had no idea what he found funny enough to cry over.

“why are you laughing? it’s true!” you give his side a gentle kick while carefully trying to avoid spilling your alcoholic beverage.

“yeah, but yer so honest ‘bout it, babe,” he chuckles and grins at you, “yer gonna make me choke or something.”

“good.” you grumble before chugging the rest of your drink. “but really, it’s not my fault they’ve been annoying me recently.” and before Atsumu can laugh again, you whip your head around to glare at your friend.

it takes Atsumu a moment to realize you’ve said the last part loudly, and your friend definitely overheard. they stare back at you, equally as drunk and aggravated, and the blonde panics. it’s true that you and the friend you’re staring down have been on rocky terms with each other the past week or so, but doing something while drunk is the last thing your boyfriend wants you to do. there’s no chance of a physical altercation (neither you nor your friend can move correctly enough for that), but it doesn’t mean words won’t be said.

“oh, c’mon babe, ya don’t mean that.” Atsumu’s laughter is now uneasy as he takes your shoulders in his grasp, trying to turn you away.

“i’m pretty sure i do mean it, Tsumu.” he winces as you swat his hands away.

“what? that i’m annoying? please,” your friend scoffs, “what about you? you’re the annoying one!”

almost immediately, a shouting match ensues. a desperate Atsumu is trying to stop you from drinking more as your friend berates you, and the rest of your friends are trying to calm the one down.

“i wouldn’t be surprised if Miya breaks up with you because you’re so damn needy!”

“HAH?” he sees it in your eyes, and before Atsumu can hold you down, you’re staggering towards your friend. everyone is launched into a full-blown panic as your friend stands up too.

it’s a good thing you’re both drunk, Atsumu decides, because it’s much easier to catch up with you and stop anything from happening. your friends are dragging the one out, thanking you both for a good time, and Atsumu’s arms are caging you against his chest, ignoring the weak punches to his arms you’re doing.

“babe! what were ya thinking?! ya can’t just start something when you’re drunk, it—” he stops when he realizes you’re now crying, gripping his arms as you struggle to stand. “h-hey… Y/N? baby, what’s wrong?” Atsumu sits the both of you down, pulling you into his lap so you can comfortably bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“you—you won’t actually break up with me, right? you don’t… don’t think i’m needy… do you?” his heart breaks. he knows this subject is a sore spot and as much as he tries to show you otherwise, it still plagues your mind from time to time.

“i don’t think you’re needy, Y/N. i check in on ya when i can because i want to, not because i think ya need me to. if they think you’re needy and annoying for wanting to talk to someone when it’ll help, they’re not a good friend.” you sniffle as his fingers rub at your temples. he presses kiss after kiss to the crown of your head, and soon enough, you’re calm.

and when you pull away from the embrace, the genuinely appreciative face you give him sets his heart aflame.

—

Semi Eita

your water bottle in hand, Semi entered the kitchen to refill your water when he noticed his phone light up in his peripherals. he makes sure he finishes his task of getting you more water before moving to where his phone is charging on the island. he hopes it’s not important — the party you’re throwing at your shared apartment is too loud for a phone call. he’s surprised, however, to see a text from you. you, who’s currently smashed and curled on the couch with your drink.

setting your water down, he pulls up his messaging app only to see something that tugs a soft smile onto his face.

my muse

eita where are u :( ily

the silver-haired male looks up and towards the couch where he can see you pouting at your phone. he watches you type and turns his attention back to his phone.

my muse

i can c ur reeding theis coward

ah yes, your drunk spelling. a laugh bubbles in Semi’s throat as he grabs your water bottle and makes his way back to the couch, sitting next to you.

“what’re you doing?” he asks teasingly, passing you your now refilled water.

“texting my boyfriend,” you say as you take the bottle, taking a few sips. “he’s reading the texts but he won’t respond.” he watches you type again.

my muse

eeeitaaaaaaa :(

a grin appears on his face as he finally replies to you.

Semi

yes, my muse?

he hears your squeal of delight from beside him and you perk up. it’s almost as if subconsciously you know he’s right next to you because you stretch your legs over his and settle against his shoulder. while you have no qualms with showing affection to your friends, you’ve never full-on cuddled up to them like this, and Semi can’t hold back his laugh.

his phone buzzes with more misspelled texts from you, and he makes sure to respond so you can keep looking all joyfully cute whenever he does.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

the girl is mine (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: When your fascination with Mayor Agatha Harkness becomes all consuming, what lengths will you go to in order to get her attention?

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Helloooo, this is a fun little one shot I’ve had sitting in my drive for a while and I finally got around to finishing it. Title & fic idea are both heavily inspired by Ariana Grande’s music video ‘the boy is mine’. Agatha has been consuming my every waking thought lately, so I hope you enjoy this fun au! Let me know what you think, my asks/dm’s are always open!

Growing up you never showed much interest in politics, and you certainly could never name more than a few politicians off the top of your head. It was dull, and you failed to find a group of white men who were knocking on death’s door to be riveting. But all of that changed with the election for the new mayor. In the past, you were vaguely aware of upcoming elections, and tried to remember to vote. But you never actively followed a campaign; at least, not until her. 

The her in question being Agatha Harkness, newly elected mayor of New York City. Being the only daughter of the former long-time U.S. Senator Evanora Harkness, politics was in her blood. Running a cutthroat campaign full of promises to clean up the city and help its residents, all whilst viciously annihilating her opponents one by one in debate, she quickly became the candidate to back. Posters of her face were plastered over every crevice of the city; with her perfectly messy dark brown curls, plump red lips, pristinely bright white smile, and lustrous blue eyes it was no surprise you became hooked. 

You followed the campaign at a slightly obsessive level, tuning into every debate and press briefing, even having notifications for Agatha Harkness enabled on every platform hoping for a glimpse of the woman who had slowly taken over your every waking thought. She was brilliant, and she had absolutely no idea you existed. 

At least, not yet. 

A few months after the election, Mayor Harkness appeared to be following through on her campaign promises. Unemployment was at a record low, there were different initiatives to help funding for the public school system, even crime and gang activity became nearly nonexistent. 

However there were rumblings from various journalists that perhaps the mayor wasn’t as perfect as she appeared to be. A few reports were suggesting that instead of eradicating the crime syndicates that had been plaguing the city for decades, she had merely moved operations underground. Others hinted that perhaps she had something to do with her mother’s rather mysterious and sudden death. But that was absurd, you thought to yourself as you watched the mayor on your television screen, her bright blue eyes twinkling back at you as she answered a few questions. 

Potion making had never been your speciality, as you were still fairly inexperienced in most realms of magic, but you froze as Agatha gave a sly wink when being asked how she kept crime rates lowered. Stirring the cauldron with renewed vigor, the pink fumes filled the room as you inhaled.

Your eyes drifted over to the outfit you had hung on the outside of your closet, briefly wondering if the plan you had concocted was too unhinged. But the mayor’s authoritative voice caught your attention once more as you turned back to the screen.

“Yes, you,” Agatha motioned to one of the eager reporters holding their hands up. 

“Madam Mayor, how do you respond to allegations that you accepted illegal campaign donations from some of the top crime families in the city?” 

The mayor didn’t appear to be phased by the question, pursing her lips as she frowned. “Well, I’d say that sounds like yet another baseless claim from the media’s fruitless attempts to discredit my accomplishments. The witch hunts didn’t stop in Salem, did they?” 

The clamor of dozens of reporters resulted in the mayor waving her hand to decline any other questions, leaving the press briefing room with her team in tow. Shutting off your tv, you glanced back at the outfit, a feeling of determination washing over you. 

Popping the cork off the vial, you carefully poured the liquid in the bottle. Pretty soon the only thought on the mayor’s mind would be your name. 

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

The next morning, you were out the door before the sun was over the horizon, running through the plan again in your head with your destination clear in mind. You had come up with the idea late one night while researching the effects of various love potions. It was risky, sure, but you had taken the time to perfect this particular potion, leaving no room for error.

The rest of the plan was rather reliant on your ability to trick the mayor’s staff into thinking you were a reporter, but hey, using a few charming spells wasn’t unethical if it was in the name of love, right?

By the time you made it to the mayor’s office you were already having second thoughts. Could you go to jail for impersonating a reporter? 

Unfortunately, you had run out of time to turn around as the friendly looking older woman sitting at the front desk waved you over. Approaching her, you ran through what you had practiced saying in the shower. Quickly looking at the personalized name plate on the edge of her desk, you gave her a wide smile.

“Good morning, Sharon. I have an appointment scheduled this morning with Mayor Harkness,” you greeted the receptionist, keeping any trace of nervousness from your tone.

“Oh, an appointment?” Sharon asked, appearing to be confused as she looked at her computer, clicking around with her mouse. “I hate these things, I can never find what I’m looking for. Do you know what never has silly malfunctions? A nice, simple day planner.”

Raising your eyebrows, you nodded along. “Of course. Very reliable.”

Sharon nodded in agreement, still struggling with her computer. “Exactly. I’ve tried explaining that to the mayor but she just waves me away to get her more tea.” She paused, frowning at whatever was on the screen. “I’m not seeing any appointments for this morning. What did you say your name was again?”

Internally sighing, and hoping you had learned this particular spell correctly, you discreetly waved your left hand, mumbling the incantation under your breath. You had never tried an enchantment before, but the spellbook made it appear to be simple enough. As long as you said the right words and had your intention clear in your mind it would work. It had to.

Clearing your throat, you gave her another bright smile. “I’m sure if you check your calendar again, it will have me marked down for an appointment with the mayor. I’m here for a last minute interview.” 

Sharon blinked, and her eyes appeared hazier than they were a moment prior, signaling your spell had worked. Looking back at her computer, she gave you a mindless smile. “Oh of course! This silly computer. Right this way, I’ll take you to the mayor.”

Following the receptionist down the hallway, you made note of how the enchantment did not appear to make any obvious changes, at least not outwardly. You did feel a slight twinge of guilt at manipulating someone without magic, but those thoughts were expelled from your brain as you saw the woman who had bewitched you from the first moment you saw her.

Agatha Harkness was leaning against her open office door, a sly grin on her face as she chatted with a nervous looking employee. Her long dark brown hair was messily splayed across her shoulders, and you could picture running your fingers through it.

With one hand cocked on her hip, and the other tucked in the pocket of her expensive looking purple slacks, you felt your breath hitch. This was really happening.

After a few moments, Agatha looked over at you and her receptionist, and she waved the employee away as she frowned. 

“Shannon, who do we have here?” Agatha curiously asked, looking you up and down.

You frowned, wasn’t her name Sharon?

Sharon didn’t appear to notice, as she mindlessly smiled. “The reporter for your interview is here, Madam Mayor.”

The mayor’s frown deepened, looking between you and her receptionist. “I thought I told you to clear my schedule this morning. I don’t remember agreeing to any more interviews.”

“It’s the only appointment scheduled for this morning,” Sharon insisted, and you prayed to whatever deity that was listening that your spell didn’t wear off too soon. “I must have forgotten to mention it to you.”

Agatha hummed, a thoughtful expression on her face as her gaze remained fixated on her receptionist. “I see.” She finally looked back over in your direction, curiously eyeing you. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes. Thank you, Shannon, that will be all.”

Sharon, or maybe Shannon, walked back to her desk and Agatha held her hand out, gesturing for you to enter her office. You tentatively walked through the doors, as the mayor followed closely behind, shutting the doors shut.

The mayor’s office wasn’t quite what you had expected. It was a lot bigger than you pictured, and the longer you looked around the more you wondered how it was this size. Large violet tinted drapes hung from the windows, and you were momentarily stunned from the view this high up. 

You knew from various interviews that the mayor was an avid reader, so you were unsurprised to find floor to ceiling rows of bookshelves lining three of the four walls. However, you were surprised to find some of them appeared rather old, and you weren’t close enough to read the titles but you managed to make note that a good chunk of them appeared to be in Latin.

“You can take a seat,” Agatha said cordially, walking past you to her desk. “Let’s try and make this snappy.”

Taking a step forward, you pulled one of the chairs out, but in the process of sitting down, the vial of potion you had in your pocket came tumbling out, crashing on the ground as the glass broke, spilling the contents all over the floor. 

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot I had that in my pocket,” you quickly apologized, trying to think of a somewhat convincing story. “You know how delicate perfume bottles can be.”

“Perfume?” Agatha repeated, tilting her head as she examined you, a calculated expression on her face as the frown lines on her forehead deepened.

“Yes. It’s…French,” you offered, avoiding eye contact as you cleared your throat. This was a horrible idea.

Agatha frowned, intrigue coloring her features as she eyed the now broken vial of potion. “I see…what publication did you say you were from again?”

“The Times,” you lied, straightening your posture as she turned her attention back to you. “It’s actually my first day.”

Raising her eyebrows, the mayor sat back in her seat. “You don’t say, and they sent you to interview me? How ambitious.”

“I’ve been following your career for a while,” you prompted, brainstorming ways to possibly salvage this opportunity. “The work you’ve done for the city is quite admirable.”

“Admirable?” Agatha scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “I can’t say I’ve been hearing a lot of that from your esteemed peers.”

“Well, some people hate to watch a woman be successful in a position of power,” you offered, and your answer appeared to appease the mayor, as she gave you a curt nod. “Besides, it’s not like you actually did any of those things, people love making up stories.”

You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the office or your imagination, but there was a brief flash of something on the mayor’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she seemed amused at what you said. But that was ridiculous, right? 

“Of course,” Agatha answered, slowly licking her lips. “Why don’t we get started?”

It was then that reality set in. You hadn’t anticipated actually having to ask the mayor any questions, the potion would have already kicked in at this point. Unfortunately, Agatha observed your hesitation as she let out a deep sigh, and you could tell she was growing more annoyed.

“You know, most journalists send over their questions beforehand,” Agatha informed you, giving you an inscrutable glance as you nervously fumbled around. “I’m a very busy woman, despite what certain media outlets are spewing out.”

“I apologize, Madam Mayor. I don’t want to waste any of your time,” you insisted, wondering yet again why you thought this plan would work to begin with.

Agatha opened her mouth to say something else, but hesitated for a moment, giving you another inquisitive stare. “Very well, I suppose not everyone can be Christiane Amanpour, hm?”

Christiane Amanpour? The name sounded relatively familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had heard it from. 

“You know, the world renowned journalist?” Agatha added on, deep blue eyes boring into your own, and you quickly nodded.

“Of course, I’m such a big fan of her work,” you gushed, but in the back of your mind you had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going the way you hoped it would.

“I’m sure you are,” Agatha mused, and there was something in her words that led you to believe perhaps this was going worse than you were imagining. “How about I ask my assistant to make us some tea? That always helps calm my nerves.”

She was so kindhearted, you noted, feeling yourself relax again as you nodded in agreement. The responding grin Agatha gave you sent a shiver down your spine.. Maybe you could make this work. Sure, you weren’t actually a journalist at The Times and Agatha would eventually realize that when no story came out, but that was a problem for the future. You barely paid attention as Agatha made a quick call to her assistant, but after she hung up you refocused.

“I have to tell you, Sharon was very helpful this morning,” you said honestly, still feeling some lingering guilt over using an enchantment on her. 

“Who’s Sharon?” Agatha deadpanned, giving you a puzzled look. 

For a moment you thought she was joking as you let out a nervous, quiet laugh, until you realized she was being serious.

“Um, your assistant?” 

“Oh, Shannon?” Agatha corrected you, waving her hand dismissively. “She does what she’s told. A bit too chatty for my personal taste.”

You tried to hide the surprise from your face as you processed what the mayor said. That was a bit strange, but maybe the receptionist’s nameplate was wrong? After all, Agatha was so good. All the work she had been doing for the city, you knew she genuinely cared about helping people. Right?

“Of course, my mistake,” you said quietly, awkwardly crossing your legs.

Sharon, or Shannon, came in a few moments later with two cups of tea. Her eyes were still slightly glazed over, but the enchantment would surely wear off soon…probably. Actually, you weren’t sure how long the spell would last. But she would be fine…probably.

When you were alone again, Agatha let out a low chuckle, and you frowned. You didn’t say any of that out loud, right?

“Oh don’t mind me, dear,” Agatha said, giving you another charming smile and you felt your worries instantly slip away as she held out one of the cups. “Tea?” 

The mayor’s lithe fingers brushed against yours as you accepted the cup, and you let out an involuntary shiver at the lingering contact. Slowly withdrawing her hand, Agatha smirked at the flush you could feel spreading across your cheeks. Raising her own cup to her lips, you were entranced watching her ruby red lips part as she took a small sip. 

Following her lead, you lifted your cup, but hesitated. The tea’s sweet aroma invaded your senses as you inhaled, and for a moment the scent smelled oddly familiar. You weren’t usually a tea drinker, you preferred coffee, but it was odd, the longer you allowed the scent to settle the more you wondered what was in it. 

Looking up, you found Agatha watching you again, her cup lowered back on her desk as she surveyed you. 

“Is the tea not to your liking?” The mayor asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

“No, it smells great,” you insisted, raising the cup closer to your lips.

Her blue eyes were so warm and inviting, and she gave you a small encouraging nod, enticing you to take a sip. The warm liquid was as sweet as it had smelled, almost too sweet, you noted, allowing it to swirl around your mouth as you swallowed. 

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, so quietly you barely heard her.

Blinking, you felt the room begin to spin as you struggled to make sense of what was happening. The sickeningly sweet taste lingered in your mouth as you felt your body grow heavier with every breath you let out. You barely heard the crash of your teacup hit the floor as your hands fell to your sides. 

Your eyes struggled to remain open as you attempted to fight whatever was happening to you, but felt firm hands hold you in place.

“Don’t fight it, pet, I’d hate to have Shannon clean up even more of a mess,” Agatha whispered in your ear as everything went dark.

The throbbing of your headache was the first thing you were aware of as you finally came to, eyes fluttering open. There was a dull ache that seemed to run through your entire body, and you struggled to recognize your surroundings. It was then you realized why you felt a dull ache, as you came to the startling realization your body was suspended midair, hands and feet bound. 

Were you still dreaming? 

“Not quite, dear.”

What?

You tried to move your head, but failed as you heard a responding chuckle at your fight to free yourself.

“I must say, you’re clever. Inexperienced, but clever,” Agatha mused as she came into focus, walking towards you with a smirk painted across her face. 

“I…” you struggled to speak, your throat far too dry, and Agatha fake pouted, raising her hand to brush against your face.

“Is someone feeling shy? Where’s that confident little witch who used an enchantment spell on my assistant?” Agatha mocked, lightly slapping your cheek before tracing a finger across your lips. “Tell me, what was your plan after slipping me that love potion?”

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” you said deliriously, still feeling an odd sensation in your head.

“Normally I’d have drained you of your magic by now,” Agatha said aloud, her long fingers moving lower, and you gasped as they wrapped around your neck. “It’s been a long time since someone’s managed to surprise me.”

“You’re a witch?” You managed to get out, torn between the paralyzing fear of what was occurring and a more carnal desire as you felt a heat pool between your legs from the way the mayor was looking at you. 

“And here I thought you were clever,” Agatha said, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she squeezed, the pressure causing you to moan.

She moved closer to you, not releasing her hand from your throat as her lips grazed yours. “Now, I think it’s time I break in my new toy, hm? Why don’t you show me how much you worship me.”

The mayor released you from your magical bindings as you hit the floor, and swirls of purple magic surrounded you, forcing you on your knees as she roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. 

“I��ve always wanted my own pet.”

[anantaru]

imagine blade or (and 🤭) jing yuan getting jealous n insecure and smothering you with their love so you don’t leave them :(

cw. jelly boys, rough, fem! reader

jealous blade who fucks you like you're the person he absolutely loathes the utmost— when in reality he loves and treasures you so much, and he doesn't trust the people around you, he thinks they would turn you away from him.

it's scary, yes, that's what it was and it's playing in his mind on repeat, like a broken record and blade was truly frightened, always having his broad, defined arms around you tight while he fucks into your little hole, splitting your pussy with his large cock, slender fingers working on your breasts to stimulate you until your body was twitching against his locked hold.

the shaft of his cock was entirely webbed in your liquids and it continued to ooze out of you when he rushes himself forward, throwing his head back as you moan out his name from the stretch on your cunt.

"you're mine, you're mine, you're mine.."

blade says, over and over, he has to let you know— and he's so impossibly warm on you, secured, and so adorable as he clings to you. thus, your heart was aflame, not being aware what he'd do with the people he saw as a clear threat.

jealous jing yuan who doesn't fuck you hard and messy until you practically beg for it, with salty tears drizzling down your doused lashes— in fairness, it's you who made him experience jealousy for the very first time in your relationship, the least you could do now was handle a little bit of his teasing or leaving him to have his almost cruel ways with you.

it's fun, he promises, biting down lightly on your earlobe while not including that it's only fun for him.

jing yuan probes into you softly, but does not thrust, only letting you feel the crevices of his girth, the pulsing and aching on his reddened erection, especially the thick, heavy vein right on the underside of his shaft, how it twitches and scratches your walls, bulges into you until you feel full and ready for him.

but, you know, good enough for now yet jing yuan still doesn't move.

you moan out together, his smirk showing you first signs of both confusion and irritating, and you look at him with a scattered gaze, awaiting something, just anything, but shudder in your skin when he stills himself entirely, moving forward to kiss your lips.

"just so you know." he chastises, inch by torturous inch beginning to move as you envelope him, jing yuan needed this really badly right now, the warmest and most intimate embrace.

"i wasn't *really* jealous today, only a little."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[xoxoavenger]

Sunflower

pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N has a crush on Robin's friend Steve, but when she learns about his dating history she retreats in on herself.

word count: 3327

warnings: self depreciation, reader is only described as not skinny but by herself in comparison to other Stranger Things characters, happy ending guys I swear, also based off the song sunflower from that one movie (I don't remember I just get it stuck in my head)

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

"Please?"

"No!"

"Oh, come on!" Robin had been trying for the past hour to make her best friend come with her to the movie night that Steve was hosting.

"Robin," Y/N was not budging. It's not that she didn't want to hang out with Robin, but going to a strangers house full of people when you only know one was not her idea of a fun night.

"Just give me a good reason, at least." Usually Robin stopped begging by the fourth 'no,' but tonight she was very pushy for an unknown reason.

"I don't know anyone!" Y/N hadn't gone to Hawkins High, instead being put through a private all-girls school just north of Hawkins. A school Robin visited frequently, due to Y/N's roommate, and that's how the two became friends. So while 'King' Steve Harrington may have been a legend in Hawkins, he might as well have been the post man to Y/N.

"I'll be there!" Robin clearly did not understand Y/N's worries. "I won't leave you alone, I promise."

"Give me the reason you want me to go, and I'll consider it." Robin opened her mouth. "The real reason." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her huff.

"Steve is my best friend, and I selfishly want my two best friends to also be best friends!" Robin pouted, but it made Y/N smile slightly.

"I will go just this once." Robin whooped and punched a fist in the air as she stood from the couch. "But! But, you cant ask me again." Robin seemed to happy to care about Y/N's terms anyway.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

~

"I finally got her!" Robin screamed when she walked in, not even knocking or slowly walking in. Y/N stood out outside the door, blinking as Robin began to give out hugs.

"Who?" A male voice asked, just around the corner and out of Y/N's sight.

"Is this your friend from boarding school?" A kid with curly hair asked Robin as he came to the door.

"It wasn't boarding school!" Robin knocked the back of the kids head, and Y/N's eyes widened. She was really close with these people.

"What is your name?" A girl appeared next to Y/N, causing her to jump. Everyone was still buzzing and talking in the doorway.

"Y/N," She responded, smiling when the other girl smiled. "What's your's?"

"Eleven." Y/N tried not to show her shock at the unique name. "But everyone calls me El."

"I like that name." Y/N said, feeling nice when El smiled wider. She wanted to continue her conversation, however a loud voice cut everyone off.

"Alright!" Hands clasped, a man about Y/N's age got everyone's attention. She felt her heart begin to beat out of her chest and her eyes widen slightly at the sight of him; tall, handsome as hell with the most beautiful head of hair. She struggled to hear what he had to say next. "You can come in the house, ya know." His smirk made her smile slightly, her heart racing as she tried not to act too shy.

"I just wasn't sure," She looked over at Robin, who was talking in low tones to another girl who looked about their age as well.

"Don't worry about it." The man walked over to her as she walked into the house, the kids dispersing and beginning to chatter once more. "My house is basically everyone else's anyway." He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, shutting the door behind her. Y/N gave a small laugh and toed off her shoes, leaving them near the door before turning back to Steve.

"Your house is nice," She said, looking around and realizing her statement may have fallen a bit short. His house was immaculate upon first glance. However, when she looked closer, she realized there were no family pictures, no children's artwork or graduation pictures hanging up. Her heart sunk and she looked back at Steve, who looked a bit awkward.

"Yeah," He said, scratching his neck. "My name is Steve, by the way. I don't know if Robin told you." Y/N's eyes widened in acknowledgement.

"You're Steve!" She laughed slightly at the face he made. "No, it's just, I hear all the time about how Robin works with you. I didn't know her coworker was her best friend." She caught something flickering across Steve's face, as if there was more to the story, but then he was laughing and it was so musical that Y/N forgot all about the face. Steve's laugh seized her heart, and she tried not to blush.

I mean, how embarrassing would it be to blush at your best-friend-in-law's laugh the first time you meet them?

"Yeah, I mean, we've worked at two places together now so," Steve told her, and Y/N nodded.

"Basically married, honestly." She joked, just to make Steve laugh once more. When he did, her heart soared.

"I'm glad someone gets it." He spoke, a soft smile on his face that Y/N wanted to take a photograph of to look at forever.

God, get ahold of yourself!

"I'm Y/N." She held her hand out, and Steve took it, a small smile on his face.

"That is a lovely name." He said, and she couldn't even think about the fact that he probably has used that line a million other times because she was too busy trying to manually make the blood leave her cheeks.

"Thank you," She said, quieter now. He dropped her hand and then looked around, noticing Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan on a couch while the kids sprawled out on the floor, arguing about the movie.

"What's your favorite movie?" He asked, turning back to her.

"Uh, I guess it would be Pretty In Pink? Or actually maybe Footloose." Her eyes lit up as she ran through more movies in her head. "I really like Stand By Me too." Steve smiled.

"I have Footloose." He said simply, then turned to make his way to the living room. Y/N followed, brows furrowed in confusion. She hadn't even gotten to ask him the same question, and she wasn't sure what he was doing now.

"Alright, stop arguing." Steve walked into the middle of the kids and picked up all the movies they had taken off the shelves, not caring about the kids' protests.

"Steve, please tell Mike that no one wants to watch Ferris Bueller again!" The kid with curly hair cried out.

"We watched it like seven times in theaters already!" A kid with and dark, short hair called out, and this caused the pale kid with black hair to drop his mouth in surprise - this must be Mike.

"Because it's the best movie ever made!" Their bickering distracted them from what Steve was doing, starting to yell over each other and making the three girls in the group roll their eyes and sigh.

Y/N looked over to find a spot to sit, but she noticed Robin was deep in conversation with the same girl from earlier on the couch; she was petite and beautiful, permed hair styled perfectly and face gorgeous without makeup. Y/N was instantly jealous, no matter how much she tried to ignore it and push it down. The girl was holding the man next to her's hand.

Robin had left Y/N alone.

Her heart started to race as she stared at Robin, willing her to look over, to notice how uncomfortable she was. She didn't know where to sit now - she could sit on the love seat but then she would be sitting next to Steve, who seemed nice but she didn't know him. Her head spun ever so slightly as she tried to breathe, trying to act like she was fine. It's not a big deal. She can sit on the couch. And if it's the most awkward experience of her life, she'll blame Robin for it until the day she dies.

As she sat down, heart still racing but breathing under control, she noticed a familiar tune playing. It was the intro to one of her favorite movies.

She met Steve's eyes as he got up from the VHS player, walking over to where she was sitting.

"What the hell is this?" The kid with curly hair asked Steve, who was now seated next to Y/N, his thigh pushing into her's.

"A movie." Steve grabbed a bowl of popcorn from the small table, offering some to Y/N.

"You're such a comedian." A girl that was smaller than the rest said, eyes narrowed at Steve. He ignored her with practiced ease, taking a handful of popcorn and staring at the TV.

"You chose Footloose." Y/N whispered, heart picking up when Steve turned to look at her.

"Of course." He smirked, making her blush slightly.

"Thank you." She looked over at Robin, who was staring at the TV while shoveling popcorn into her mouth.

"I know that Robin probably told you she wouldn't leave you alone." Steve muttered, causing her to whip her head over to him.

"She didn't leave me alone." Y/N felt the need to defend her best friend, even if it was a lie.

"Y/N," The way he said her name made her heart clench. She immediately forgot what they were talking about. "I love Robin, and I know she didn't mean to, but she did leave you alone." Y/N crossed her arms.

"She just got excited." Y/N said, causing Steve to chuckle lowly.

"Believe me, I know." He scooted ever so slightly closer. "I've never seen this movie, and we've missed the first five minutes, so I'm gonna need you to explain it for me." She tried not to let her cheeks heat once more as she began to explain to Steve what was going on in the movie.

~

After going to movie night a couple more times and actually becoming friends with some of Robin's friends, she hatches her plan.

She couldn't tell Robin that she was practically in love with Steve already. Not because she didn't trust her best friend, but because she felt weird about it. She had only just met him, and they hadn't even talked all that much. She had to bring it up but make it seem like it was Robin's idea.

"I need you to help me!" Y/N cried, dramatically falling backwards on Robin's bed.

"Oh my God," Robin didn't even look up from her painting she was working on.

"I to go on a date!" She yelled. This was a common complaint, one that would cause Robin to roll her eyes most of the time.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Robin still hadn't put down her paint brush, but she was a little less focused.

"You know so many people!" Y/N tried, hoping this wasn't a little too forward.

"You're right, but not that many are - oh my God." Robin dropped her pain brush, the color splattering on her desk, just before hitting her canvas.

"What?" Y/N rolled over, almost falling off the bed.

"I'm a genius." Robin spun in her chair, grinning at Y/N.

"What?" She repeated, hoping Robin was about to be the best wingwoman ever.

"I know the perfect boyfriend for you!" The girls stared at each other for a couple moments, Robin blinking as if it was obvious. "Steve!"

"Oh." She couldn't sound too excited, but on the inside she was dancing. If she had Robin on her side, it'd be easier to get to know Steve. "I mean, I barely even know him,." Robin was so excited she didn't even bring up the fact that Y/N wouldn't have known anyone Robin brought up.

"Yeah, I could tell you everything." Robin shrugged, making Y/N's eyes go wide. "Like, he crawled backwards as a baby. Weird, right?" Robin laughed, painting forgotten.

"Okay, maybe we should skip ahead to dating history?" That was really what she wanted to know; Steve gave her the vibes of a player. She needed to be proven wrong. She was sure she was wrong.

"Right, well, he used to date Nancy." Y/N's heart sinks at Robin's words. It feels like someone just stabbed her. She regrets asking anything, regrets telling Robin she'd go to movie night. "They dated for like, a year, probably. I don't know, but they had a little thing a while ago."

"Oh," Y/N doesn't know what to say, but she clearly didn't convince Robin of anything. All Y/N can think is that she looks nothing like Nancy. Nancy who's skinny. Nancy who's hair is always perfect with her curled perm. Nancy who's eyes are the most beautiful blue. Nancy who's makeup is never too much, is always complementing her, is so beautiful. Nancy who had Steve's heart.

Fuck.

"They're like, two different people, though. Want different things. He's totally over her. It was practically forever ago." Robin continues, and Y/N tries not to show the hurt that is running through her.

"Right." Y/N nods, grabbing her book and picking it back up again.

"I'll wingwoman you." Robin turns back to her painting. "My two best friends!" She squeals, and Y/N closes her eyes, trying not to show Robin that she's disappointed.

~

Y/N doesn't go back to movie night for two weeks, despite Robin's whines and moans of protest. She wasn't going to break, either, because even though she hadn't seen him in two weeks she thought about him every day.

It was unhealthy.

It was even more unhealthy the way she studied herself in the mirror, comparing herself to Nancy. She knew she shouldn't, that there was no point, that Steve probably didn't even remember her name.

It was fine.

She was a normal human. She was a normal person. She could go to a movie with Steve. They probably wouldn't even talk.

So she agreed, making Robin the most excited she'd ever been. She could hardly wait a week for the next hang out, which was not a movie. It was a pool party.

She could do it.

"I can't do this." She whispered as she parked outside of Steve's house, Robin already getting out of her car.

"Come on!" Robin cried out, and Y/N blinked quickly before shutting her brain off and getting out of the car.

It wouldn't be that bad.

"Y/N!" Steve yells as soon as he opens the door. Her eyes widen, and Steve pushes Robin aside to put his arms around her.

"Alright," Robin says with a scoff, walking inside.

"Hi," Y/N says quietly, because she's still a little confused.

"We missed you!" He says as he pulls back. "I missed you." This was quieter, and Y/N tried her hardest not to blush.

"I missed you too." She said, watching him smile before walking with him into the house. She tries to convince herself that today will be okay.

But then the conversation shifts to Steve and his love life somehow, and one of the kids brings it up.

"Remember when you had a crush on Robin!" Dustin announces as he dissolves into laughter. Y/N's mind goes blank.

Of course Steve has a type. Of course it's the opposite of her. Robin and Nancy are gorgeous. They're both so kind, so smart, so pretty. They're both skinny.

All she can think about is the way her body looks against Nancy and Robin's. Her thigh, which is touching Steve's on the small couch that he had decided the two of them would sit on. Her face is a different shape. Robin and Nancy look like models that Y/N sees on the cover of her mother's magazines. She might as well have not come back, because there was no way Steve would ever see her like that.

And she couldn't even tell anyone; not that she had many people to tell anyway. But Robin wouldn't get it. She'd tell Y/N how beautiful and smart she was that if a man didn't want her for such a stupid reason she didn't want the man anyway. And while it was nice to hear, it wasn't what she wanted or needed now. She didn't need reminders that she was beautiful, because it wouldn't change how Steve saw her.

What had she been thinking? Of course Steve was a player - she had clocked that quickly.

"I need more popcorn!" Robin announces in the middle of the movie. "And Y/N needs to come with me." The way she said it made Y/N realize that she knew something was wrong, and now her best friend was not letting her out of this.

"What?" Y/N asked quietly when they got to the kitchen.

"Seriously?" Robin almost exploded.

"What?" Y/N furrowed her brows, and Ron scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"You've been acting weird." Robin explains, and Y/N shakes her head dramatically. "No I haven't." She says, grabbing the popcorn and putting it on the pan they've been keeping on the stove.

"Yes, you have. What's going on?" Robin asks, walking to the stove to stand next to Y/N. "You can tell me." This is softer, just as the popcorn begins to pop.

"It's nothing, Rob." Y/N sighs.

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable when you come here but I just want you to hang out. And I thought you wanted me to try and set you up with Steve, but you haven't even looked at him all night despite the fact that you're sitting right next to each other." Robin talks it out, and she's getting closer to the truth. The popcorn is done, so Y/N takes it off the hot stove and puts it on a pot holder, but neither of them leave.

"Steve liked Nancy." Y/N says, not able to face Robin. She can only look at the back tile above the stove. "And he liked you. So he clearly has a type." She looks to the side that Robin isn't on, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Y/N," Robin puts a hand on her shoulder.

"He likes roses. He likes the skinny, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect face. And that is not me. I am not a rose." She takes a deep breath, wiping her face and preparing to leave.

"I hate roses." Steve says from behind her, and Y/N jumps. She turns, and he's standing there with wide eyes that pull at her heart.

"Steve," She didn't want him to hear any of that, but he clearly heart at least the last part.

"When you first showed up here, I called Robin that night to ask if I had a chance with you." Steve admits, and Y/N parts her lips in surprise. She turns to her friend.

"You never told me that." She whispers, and Robin has a sly smile on her face.

"I knew you guys would find your way to each other." She grabs the popcorn and leaves Y/N and Steve to their conversation.

"I'm not the same guy I was in high school. And I know the rumors that went around, and some of them were true. But I'm more mature now, and I really like you." He admits, making Y/N's cheeks heat up. "I've been waiting for you to come to movie night again so I could ask you out. Robin wouldn't give me any of your information because she said I had to do it on my own." Steve steps closer, and Y/N has to take a shuddering breath.

"Sorry," Y/N says, and Steve shakes his head as he moves some hair out of her eyes.

"Don't apologize." He whispers, then grabs her hand. "So, would you like to go on a date with me?" He asks, and she smiles.

"Yes." She whispers, nodding slowly. He smiled.

"And by the way," He says as they walk back into the room. "I find you very, very attractive." She can feel the heat all the way down her chest, but she lets him lead her into the living room and to the couch. She even lets him cuddle her through the movie, even while his friends tease him.

She's never felt more beautiful. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina  @oblivion-void @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch @freezaz123 @mads-weasley @johnricharddeacy @sweetdreamsshifter @param8re @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @fangisms

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

[1-800-imagines]

ferris wheel. |r.c. - nsfw|

minors dni! 18+ only

‘wear that skirt i like. nothing under it. be ready in 15 mins.’ you looked at your phone to see a text from your boyfriend. 

rafe always gave you more than 15 minutes to get ready as he liked you looking ‘perfect’. with that in mind, you jumped up from where you were sitting and started to get ready. 

you knew exactly the skirt he was talking about. it was a white pleated mini skirt. if you bent over your full ass would be showing - hence why rafe liked it so much. but usually you wear it with a thong as to not be completely exposed. 

but you did as instructed and paired the skirt with a cute blue spaghetti strap tank top. you grabbed some sneakers to match and started to do light makeup since you didn’t have that much time. after you finished your makeup, you fixed your hair and looked at the time. 

rafe would be at your doorstep any minute so you spritzed on some perfume that he loved and your diamond r necklace. 

sure enough, rafe rang the doorbell and you went to greet him. you opened the door and his eyes raked up your body. “you look good baby.” he smiled and kissed you. the kiss was more passionate than you were expecting and it went straight to your core. 

you blushed when he pulled off and smirked, he took his thumb and brushed it against your bottom lip, “fix your lips in the car. may have smeared it.”

“ugh my hard work!” you joked, grabbing his hand and walking to his truck. 

as always, he opened the door for you and waited for you to get in. 

once he was in and on the road, his hand went to your thigh and gently squeezed. “you do what i ask sweetheart?” he asked, starting to gently pull your thighs apart. 

you knew what he wanted so you spread them wide. rafe grinned as his hand touched your exposed cunt, “good girl.”

he ran one finger through your folds and softly against your clit, only for a moment before returning his hand to your thigh. you whined at the loss of sensation especially since you were wet from the kiss. 

“where we goin anyway?” you asked, squeezing your thighs back together to try and dull the ache. 

“you’ll see. it’s gonna be fun.” he said.

a few minutes later you were pulling up to a carnival. your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him. 

“i saw it driving home and wanted to take you. thought it’d be a cute date.” rafe said shrugging and getting out of the car to open your door. you didn’t know it but rafe had ulterior motives involving the ferris wheel. 

your stomach sank a little as you approached it, “rafeeeee, you know i’m scared of heights.” you pouted. 

he didn’t say anything, he just led you onto the ferris wheel. since it had a bench on each side, you first sat down across from rafe. 

once the door was clicked into a locking position, rafe eyed you and said, “you won’t even notice how high up we are. i promise.”

the ride started to move and you grasped the ledge. rafe’s eyes gleamed, “you know what? come sit on my lap. i’ll hold you baby.”

before the ride started again, you switched sides and tightened your grip on the edge. you sat down on his lap and rafe let out a breath. “atta girl.” he said, putting his hand on your thigh and pulling it open. 

“rafe, someone’s gonna see.”you groaned, still obeying him and letting them fall open. 

“you think i care?” was all his response was as one hand fell in between your legs. he kissed the side of your neck, causing you to shiver a little, “now relax baby.” he ordered. 

you relaxed into him and his hand began to rub slow circles over your clit. he took his time before dipping one finger in your tight cunt. you groaned as he did and he chuckled, “all wet and ready for daddy, huh sweetheart?”

you nodded as he began to pump his finger in and out, unable to come up with words. rafe clearly didn’t like this, he liked when you vocalized even when you couldn’t form cohesive sentences. “fuckin say it then,” he tone was quick and impatient. 

“always ready for you daddy.” you said quickly, not wanting him to stop. 

he began to pump quicker, adding a second finger. you moaned louder and the ride stopped again. “cum for daddy, princess.”

with those words, you release came crashing over you and you moaned out his name. you could feel rafe getting hard under you. 

normally he’d give you a second to recover but you didn’t have the luxury of time as you were on a ride that was timed. 

“lift your hips up for me baby.” you did as told even though you were slightly dazed. 

while the ride was still stopped, rafe undid his shorts and pulled his dick out. he swiftly pulled you down on top of him making you gasp as he entered you all at once. 

you adjusted quickly and began to move your hips eliciting a groan from rafe. his hands went to your hips to help you be able to lift up and down. 

you began to ride him, causing the ride itself to shake. “goddamn baby, just like that. you’re so perfect.”

hearing his praise made your stomach coil, threatening to release again. you were desperate to turn around and face him so you could kiss him but then it would be blatantly obvious what the two of you were doing. 

his lips found your neck again and sucked a dark mark onto it. you whimpered a little, and paused your movements. rafe took the opportunity to thrust up into you. he steadied your hips and drilled into you, "bout to fill you up princess." he said in a low voice.

those words made your pussy clench which made rafe groan and bite down on your neck as he came inside of you. this pushed you fully over the edge and you soaked his cock, whimpering.

"did so good for me baby." he murmured and then nodded his head, "and look, you made it to the top and you're fine." you were in fact, now on the descent.

he smacked the outside of your thigh and nudged you with his hips to pull off of him. you slid next to him and he put his arm around your shoulder.

you squeezed your thighs together to try and keep the cum from running out.

the two of you got off the ride and rafe smacked your ass as you walked ahead of him, "which ride should i fuck you on next?" he teased, catching up and taking your hand.

(will do tags later!!)

click here to join taglist

[punkitt-is-here]

LIFE UPDATE!!!! RAGHHH!!!

Okay, so, as some of y'all know, I was fired from my job a couple of months ago. I reapplied, and unfortunately, despite getting an interview, I was turned down. Because of that, I'm going full-time as a self-employed artist. This means I'll be focusing on making fun stuff for my shop, learning better how to ship out items, and doubling down on doing more commissions.

As some of my wonderful commissioners know, I struggle a lot with deadlines and motivation. I have ADHD and even though I'm medicated, it still often gets in my way and kicks my ass often. It's part of why I have such a big struggle when doing commissions; they're hard to motivate myself to do and sometimes require a lot of communication back and forth that I'm just not the best at right now. I would like to say thanks to everyone that's put up with my inability to figure out a decent schedule for commission work, and hopefully everyone who's tried to get art from me will get their stuff very soon!

SO, uh, now that I don't really have a job, what's that mean? Well, I'm going to set a goal to actually make good on my promises for commissionwork. I tend to actually get a lot done in bursts, but they come and go, so I'm going to try and do weekly commissions but with much smaller slots. What I'll be doing is upping the frequency while also limiting the amount I get per-week so I can have a form of consistency with my output. That way, both parties are satisfied and I don't have to keep beating myself up for taking my time because I kept convincing myself I had a big-ass workload I couldn't chip away at.

Part of how I'll be doing this is acting like I still have a job. I'm gonna set aside work hours in the week to specifically work on commissions and shipping and interfacing with clients. I depend on the kindness and goodwill of my incredible followers, so the last thing I really want to do is tarnish that (at least any more than I have; apologies to everyone who's put up with me learning how to run a shop!). I think I'm at a point where I understand a lot of my limitations and abilities, and so I hope going forward I can begin to create a routine for myself and be able to make this something I can do far into the future! If you'd like to support me while I do this wacky lil thing, i've got a ko-fi and now a Patreon! (which I will link in my reblog since I heard Patreon links are weird here on tumblr.) I'm really excited to be launching a patreon. I can't guarantee any specific type of content, but the plan is just to show tiny little previews of stuff early if you're a supporter and stuff like this. I've never had anything of this kind, so I ask for your patience as I work stuff out, but if you feel like supporting me on either platform it'd mean the world to me. Thanks :)

[soxcietyy]

my request is yuta finding readers toys and testing it on her the next time they do the deed 🙏🙏

Rating’s

This is embarrassingly late, I’m so sorry 😭🙏🏼

Nobara comes over to your house with a mystery box just to be disappointed with the contents inside. Yuta shows up unexpected and seems very interested in it.

"Hey! Guess who finally got the goods! Can’t wait to see what’s in here." Nobara said as she stood in front of your door with a cardboard box in her hands. It took you a second to even figure out what in the world she was talking about. What plans could of you guys made that you had forgotten about?

Ah yes last week she had mentioned that she made a new friend who owned a company. He said that he needed people to review his new products before he could launch them in his shop. Before he could reveal what it was Nobara stopped him, telling the guy that she wanted it to be a surprise. She promised to run over here once she received the package so you guys could be surprised together.

"What do you think it could be? Clothes? Food? Candy? Skincare? Makeup?!" Nobara said excitedly as she squeezed passed you. She didn’t need permission to enter because she would barge in even if you said no.

Walking into your apartment she decided to put the box on the coffee table. A loud thud could be heard as it made contact with the glass top. She took a seat on the floor as she waited for you, excited to see what was inside. She almost looked like a kid eager to open there gift. That would have to wait a second though. Walking to the kitchen you grab some wine glasses and a bottle so you guys could enjoy together. Whatever it was would go perfectly with a cold bottle of wine.

"Hurry up!" She says as she crosses her arms.

Yyou let out a sigh as you lean on the island, then you tell her to open the tape up while you poured drinks.

"I’m so excited!" Nobara says as she pulls out her keys and drags it across the tape to tear it open. While she did that you opened the bottle and poured the drinks into the glass. Once you had finished you approach her and place the cups down. Nobara didn’t want to waste anymore time, she pulls you towards her so you could look above the box with her.

"Okay I’m going to open it in three, two, one."

She opens the box to reveal what’s inside. Both of you look at each other in shock. It was a box full of toys and they weren’t the kid friendly ones. You put your hand inside and pull out a pink silicone toy in the shape of a male body part. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your friend.

"That disgusting monster!" She says in disbelief.

"Hey now, I’m sure he was going to tell you what it was before you stopped him." You say defending the man.

She rolls her eyes as she sits back down on the floor with her legs crossed. As she continued to pout you pull out some lube that was brand new and sealed. You quirk your brow as you read the flavor of the lube, popcorn… interesting.

"Common Nobara this isn’t bad at all! You don’t get laid enough so I think this could help you out." You tease.

"Ha Ha, very funny y/n" she stood up abruptly and started to walk away.

You furrow your brows as you turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" You ask

"I’m not intrested in this kind of stuff, you’ll probably use it well. Your man probably doesn’t satisfy you enough so have fun." She says throwing shade back. As she opens the door you see someone standing in the door way. Her jaw drops when she noticed it was Yuta.

Speak of the devil.

"Uh y/n … Yuta is here."

You quickly put everything back and kick the box on the floor behind you once you heard those words fall out her mouth. You had forgotten that he mentioned coming over today. You didn’t need him finding such things in your house, he’d get the wrong idea. You scramble to stand up with the glass of wine still in your hand. Taking a sip of your drink you run to the front door. To find him with a concerned look.

"You okay? You look pale." Yuta steps inside and holds your face to examine it.

You kindly put his hands down and assure him you’re fine. Your friend on the other hand had already made her escape. Seems like she didn’t want to be apart of what might happen in he finds the box.

Shutting the door behind him you watch him make his way to your couch. Maybe he would ignore the box. You had it closed so he wouldn’t open it right? He tends to respect your privacy after all.

You stood by the door watching him anxiously walk past the box. He took a seat and turned his attention to the tv that had drama playing. You sigh in relief seeing he had no interest in the box.

"You want some wine? Nobara didn’t even take a sip out of hers, it would be a waste." You say heading towards him.

"Yea I’ll drink it but could you please bring me some cheese and crackers? You know I cant have wine without them." He asks you nicely as he sat up from the couch to take a whiff of the wine.

You make your way in the kitchen and start making him his plate. While you did that you could hear him shuffling around, most likely getting comfortable. You couldn’t help but look over him a few times as you were occupied. Eventually you got fully focused on cutting the slices perfectly that you forgot to check on him. While cutting last bit of cheese you decide to look up but when you did the knife in your hand drops. Yuta was sitting on the couch with the box in his hands wide open.

He looked at you and the box back to back until he decided to place the box down to approach you. He had a concerned look on his face as he grabbed your hands.

"Am I not enough? You could told me this, no need to resort to that kind of stuff." He says with a sad tone.

You couldn’t help but stare blankly at him.

"N-no! Yuta you have the wrong idea. Nobara came over to drop thoes off so me and her could test them out." You say panicked.

You watch as his jaw drop from disbelief. Of course you worded it wrong. "Her friend owns a company and they have these new products! He needs a review before he drop it. Of course we’re not going to test them out together! Apart because we’re not like that."

He drops your hand feeling at ease with your answer.

"I’m relieved but you’re going to use these on your own? I doubt you would know how to use them." Yuta said as he walked to the box and pulled out a rose toy. Turning it in different directions so he could get a good look at the weird contraption.

"I’m more than capable of figuring it out." You roll your eyes.

He stalks back towards you as he held a wand vibrator in his hands. Bringing it near him mouth to use it as a microphone. "Two reviews are better than one." Yuta says as in the "mic" .

Putting the wand down next to the cutting board he pulls out the rose, clearly being interested in that one the most. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter you down on the counter. Pulled your night gown up as he tried to figure out how to turn on the flower.

Grabbing it from his hand you slowly direct your finger towards the power button so he could see. Once you pressed it, it started to vibrate in your hands letting out a humming noise. He quickly grabbed it to feel the vibration in his hands. A small smile appeared on his face as he put it against his hand.

"This has power." He says as he felt how strong and fast it was. Bring his hand down he tried to put it against your privates but you stopped him by covering the area.

"You’re not going to wash it first?" You looked at him.

He quickly turned on the faucet that was next to you and washed it with soap and water. He came back immediately to not ruin the mood. He then brings up the toy to his mouth and begins to lick it.

You were in disbelief from his actions. He was licking it and swirling his tongue on it as he pulled your panties to the side. He then pressed it on you once he was satisfied with the wet coat he had just created it. You jolt at the sudden vibration it created. You bite your cheek as you grab into his shoulder for support. You never really used something like this because there was no need. Yuta managed to satisfy your needs easily so this was entirely new to you.

Yuta would gradually go fast and faster until you were at your climax but this toy got to the point. It didn’t take long before your legs are shaking and your grip on him tightened. You begged him to not press it up your bran to hard but he didn’t listen. Instead he studied your facial expressions and mocked you when you would open your mouth from pleasure. Asking if you like this better than him.

You would shake your head but he didn’t stop. He was clearly trying to teach you some sort of lesson but it wasn’t getting quite through. Not even ten minutes passed and you were orgasming in his hand.

"Five stars" he says as he walks away.

While you try to catch your breath you find him Infront of you once again. You were surprised he came back so quickly. He saw your struggle to get down so he helped you down with one hand. You lean onto him as you try to regain your composure but he gave you little to no time as he bent you over the counter and shoved something in you.

You gasp at the sudden familiar feeling of being full. It wasn’t as filling as you were used to taking but it still felt amazing Turning back at him you see Yuta with an intrigued look. He pulled out the object out of you and slammed it back inside. You let out a loud cry from pleasure. He then pulls it in and out in a steady pace as he watched you squirm. You beg him to slow down In between moans.

You try to grip onto the counter as he pounded you with the toy. Hitting the right spot over and over again.

"This mouth was so hungry for something huh? Look at her drooling all over this toy." Yuta says as your juices run down his hand. You close your eyes out of embarrassment. Your legs loosing the will to support you in the process. Yuta was quick to catch you before you could fall.

He ended up paying on the couch While resting your body on his chest. You relaxed in his embrace until you felt the toy go back inside you. You look up at him with an annoyed look.

"What? We need to rate this toy. Won’t be possible until you finish." He kisses your head as continued were he left off. You grip his shirt as he started slamming the silicone toy in you. Body jolting everytime he dug it deep inside your body. Was he really planning on testing everything out on you? There was no way anyone could go through such a box. That’s at least twenty five orgasms in one go.

Another orgasm rippled through your body. You moan out his name as you grab his arm that was helping move the toy in and out of you.

"Seven, took you way too long to orgasm. Even I can do it in less time, it got the job done though. 3 stars."

"No more" you croak out in desperation.

"Why not? We just got started." Yuta sits you on you couch.

You pull your dress down with a flushed face.

"I can do the rest in my own with my own pace. Plus these toys are usually meant for self pleasure. It wouldn’t be fair to rate them together." You say hoping that wound stop him from continuing.

"Oh" he says "then masturbate with them."he says.

"I will, eventually." You say as you grab the toy Yuta was using as a microphone not too long ago.

"Do it right now, Infront of me." He tilts his head.

You look at him shocked.

"I couldn’t possibl-"

He grabs your hand with the toy and pushes it down there. You swallow hard as he looked into your eyes.

"I won’t touch you. I won’t bother you." He smiles as he sits on the couch opposite from you. "I’ll just sit here."

You bite your lip as he tells you to go on. You have no choice but to listen. Pulling your panties down you put your legs on the couch. Spreading them apart until he had a full view of everything. You watch as his hands roam on his pants. Caressing his member that rested under those pants.

Closing your eyes you turn on the device and put it on your bud. You let out a shameful moan out immediately because you were already so sensitive. You rubbed it up and down your area. Hips rolling back and forward from pleasure.

It felt so good but something was missing. You couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe more of a stronger vibration? A faster speed? A better shape? Or maybe it was the man Infront of you.

You let out whimpers as you open your eyes too look at him. He was sitting down watching you pleasure yourself from afar. Eyes not looking away from you even for a second. You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you and to do more.

"Yut-a" you flutter your eyes at him.

He tried his best not to respond since he said he wasn’t going to bother you but the look you were giving him made him turn on his words.

"Yes baby?" He asks.

"I want you to do it form me." You say.

Yutas leg jolted from excitement but he knew he shouldn’t. Still he stood up and approached you. Sitting on the floor right in front of you.

"Common baby you can do it." He says moving your hand a bit lower so you could get a better position on it. The small movement made a huge difference. You were now squirming like crazy. Legs twitching uncontrollably. All that came out your mouth now was your moaning and small profanity’s. Yutas name coming out time by time which he loved.

"Such a good girl, come for me no?"

He said as he kissed your thighs up and down, trying not to intervene too much. You cry out his name once more as you came. Body completely shutting down on you. Yuta was quick to move the toy out the way and bury his face in between your legs.

"Y-Yuta!?" You squeal

You tried to push him away but he was not moving until he decided he was. He ended up eating you out until he left you clean.

"Sorry I couldn’t help myself."

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

at the heart of it all

Summary: you’re Jake’s date to a family wedding, where every moment highlights the quiet love the two of you share.

Word Count: 544.

Warnings: established relationship, no use of y/n, fluff (duh).

***

The warm buzz of laughter and music filled the backyard, lights strung across the trees casting a soft glow over the wedding party. Jake stood next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back, a grounding weight amidst the cheerful chaos.

“You okay?” he murmured, leaning down so his voice reached only you.

You nodded, the corner of your mouth tugging into a smile. “I’m good.”

Jake’s green eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he grinned. “You’re lying,” he teased lightly, his tone affectionate. “C’mon, darlin’, they’re my family. You’ve met them countless times. They’re harmless.”

“Harmless? The same people who’ve already shared six embarrassing stories about you?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jake chuckled, the deep sound making your chest feel tight. “Okay, fair. But if they get too rowdy, just let me know and I’ll throw ‘em off the dance floor.”

You laughed, leaning into him slightly, the warmth of his presence calming your nerves. Jake pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping back to adjust his tie.

“Here,” you said, reaching up. “Let me.”

He stilled as your fingers deftly straightened the knot, his eyes fixed on your face with an expression so soft. “What would I do without you?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

“Probably show up looking like a mess,” you teased, patting his chest once the tie was in place.

Jake’s smirk returned. “Good thing I’ve got you then.”

***

The reception was in full swing by the time Jake guided you back to your seats, a plate of food in his hands. “Here,” he said, placing it in front of you. “You haven’t eaten anything all night yet.”

“Jake, I-”

“No arguments,” he interrupted, shooting you a playful look. “I know how you get when you’re nervous, and I’m not letting you faint somewhere like this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto your face. “Thanks.”

“Always,” he replied, brushing his fingers against yours as he handed you a fork.

***

Later, as the two of you stood with a group of Jake’s cousins, he kept a steady hand on your back, his thumb tracing small circles that only you seemed to notice. When someone directed a question your way, Jake gave you a subtle, gentle nudge, his eyes meeting yours with an encouraging warmth.

You took a breath and began to answer the question, and Jake’s expression melted into something tender. Even in a crowd, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room.

***

As the night wound down, you found yourselves swaying together on the dance floor. Jake’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as the music slowed.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said, voice soft against your ear.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

Jake’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your face toward his. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting go.”

Your lips met in a kiss that felt like a promise, a reminder of the love that had brought you here–to this moment, this new second family, this life you were building together.

***

A/N: i had soooo much fun writing this, i feel like i’ve enjoyed writing the meet-cutes but wanted to give a more “established” relationship a try! i hope you liked it!!

[bengiyo]

Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.