#but then i remembered that i literally don’t give a fuck

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[iamdispleased]

ok but what if the reason helly r. is more reserved is because lumon threatened her. like, they told her she could go back to mdr, but she better stay in line, or else her friends will suffer. in this short paragraph i will

[beomiracles]

the way I read this two weeks ago and have yet to reblog... anyhow, cam already heard me absolutely CRASH OUT reading this on vc. but it's a lot more fun to host a public crash out too.

FIRST OFF ALL.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

second of all.

the UNIQUE concept is to fucking die for. the idea of vampires feeding off of other vampires is something I've never even thought about??! much less them becoming literally fucking soul bound after that.

You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody. 

PACK IT UP PACK IT UP. "If it wasn't him you would have nobody" YES YES YES. like I'm tearing my heart open and giving it to you rn just take me as I am.

Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same.

mother of all things holy.

next, the way they were both yearning for each other. cam was yapping this nonsense about the smut feeling weird, BUT LET ME TELL YOU. the smut in this fic is absolutely DIVINE. it portrays the longing and the yearning in such an immaculate way I'm literally out of breath writing this rn. like just opening the fic back up to find my favourite parts has me in shambles, so you can imagine the out of body experience I had reading this.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back. 

AH YES YESYYEYSYEYSYEYSWYE.

You still remember the sound his human heart made

see. i. I'M UNWELL. the way she remembers him even after DECADES passing. the longing of a vampire is so painfully beautiful I'm going to actually pass out on the floor may one of you guys come pick me up again once I've had a moment to collect myself.

AND WHEN SHE SEES HIM AGAIN --- It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach.

cam I'm going to actually bend you over.

But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,”  The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?”  Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,” 

AND NOW IM STARVING BITCH COME HERE IM GOING TO GIVE YOU MY BODY MIND AND SOUL FOR BREAKFAST DINNER AND LUNCH.

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,” 

im so normal about this paragraph its insane lol.

everyone shut up and read this part:

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,”  But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours.  “then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

I want to declare a moment of silence. for my sanity, for my pride and the person I have become after being bestowed such an honour of a fic. I want to lick every part of cam until there's nothing left of her and I want everyone who I've never came in contact with to have read this fic at least once in their entire life to get at least some use out of it.

this fic is my favourite ever.

bitten

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

warnings: 🔞!!! vampire!beomgyu, vampire!reader, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, angst, mentions of a break up,mentions of bite mark scars, a bit of soulmate trope, oral (f!rec), no protection,mentions of subspace, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.8k (now this flung the 2k limit out the window )

an: thank you for the request! I hope that this captured the essence of the request because vamp!gyu was consuming my thoughts after I read those lines. I love vampire fics and im so sad I don't have more on my page already and this was the perfect time to add one. not proofread im so sorry my sweet angel darlings have mercy on me and forgive me of any mistakes found.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The bar was dark enough to keep the bruised necks and wrists of the occasional lost traveler hidden. Spots of blood dripped onto crisp white shirts scenting the air in coppery sweetness. It was a sickening smell to those who didn't need to feed, the alcohol keeping the rest of the occupants held over enough to ignore the twinge. 

You didn't come to places like this often, the back room filled with half-drunk vampires and humans, desperately grasping at each other as they took from one another. Even the drinks didn't call to you, not when he wasn't standing there behind the bar passing them to you, constantly working his eyes up your body like a desperate plea to have even a taste. He hadn't been turned then, not when you first met. The pull towards you always accounted for the fact you were tainted with blood lust. A moth to a flame, he felt that pull, your hunger enough to send him right into the fire without even glancing at him. 

It wasn't often that a human found themselves offering their bodies up to vampires. Most of them felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, the prickling of fear telling them that whoever was standing just round the corner was a wolf in perfectly tailored sheeps clothing, how tight that human look held onto you after your change. The uncanny glow seeping that poisonous warning off in waves, a trap waiting for the truly reckless to trip. 

The ones who wandered closer instead of away always found themselves in the back of bars like this, bruised and hazy eyed laying in beds done up in silk and candlelight. Beomgyu, although working behind the bar for years knew never to offer himself up to the ones who sunk his stomach, that warning to run ringing in his ears as he slid a drink across the hardwood. But you, the second the door had pushed open and your skin washed in that low down glow, tripped him up; your waiting trap snapping shut around him like a rib cage around fluttering lungs. Even the echo of fading hoof beats on stone sounded so close to the beating of his heart that he couldn't tell the difference between flight and flush. 

But that had been years ago, so many that you couldn't even remember the shade of his irises. You remember they were brown, staring up at ceilings casing empty houses trying and failing to conger up the image. Well over a century's worth of time to hate yourself for forgetting the one thing that drew you in at first glance. But it wasn't as if you didn't try to work your way through the fading memories of him, all flickering by like the passing pages of a notebook you forgot you wrote and held so dearly. All you could see was that empty bed, the sugary taste of his blood still on your tongue, your breast still tender from where he bit you over your heart, so hard the soft outline of his teeth, like a stain you desperately wanted to rid yourself of. 

You had come here, back to this bar only three times after he had left to check in. That night with tears in your eyes, heart crumbling, the second taehyun had confessed that beomgyu was gone, packed up with only a shrugged goodbye. “He said he doesn't know when he will be back,” 

You had waited ten years to return the next time, so little time when you counted decades like snowflakes, not the glass shattering hail you assumed beomgyu would have still thought of as a recently turned fledgling. But no one had seen him, heard from him, hardly even thought of him. But he plagued you, ran around your head until you could taste the blood coming from overworked joints. 

The third time was no better, not when you entered and Taehyun shook his head, apologizing for a friend he wouldn't recognize anymore. 

You had given up, moved away, and swore to never think about beomgyu and his puppy stare. That follow you everywhere look that seeped into your bones and begged you to never turn away from him. Only now you were back, sitting in the far corner you fell in love, sinking into the leather seat wishing you could have that first glance back. 

Taehyun felt pity when he saw you, knew that you had been locked away in some house countries away, only sending in orders for blood long since cold. He poured you a glass, the same drink you asked for with tears in your eyes that first night back alone, chugging so many of them back he's sure your blood tasted of fire, too sour, burning all the way down one's throat. 

“Thank you,” neither of you wanted to bring Beomgyu up but he was the first thing on both of your minds. 

“He hasn't-” 

“I don't care,” you tossed back your drink, the ripples of mixed in blood making your fangs tingle, ready to push through soft gums and piece flesh not yet provided. It's why you came. Tired of the empty flavored pints of blood brought to you by Soobin and his sorry eyes. You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody. 

But that declaration was a century ago, so many cold cups later it was tiring to swallow another. “I want a girl, preferably quiet, business only,” Taehyun nodded to your order, already knowing the best pick. 

“Room 615, she can be brought back in about thirty minutes,” there was no room for judgment, not after the years of working behind this counter, sneaking into those beds just like everyone else had. But he knew what it took from someone who hated to drink from a vein, it's why they had the services, those who couldn't go out and find someone or someones to keep up a constant full belly. 

But human blood wasn't the same as drinking from a vampire, humans went out too quickly, blinking back their faintness, never able to take more than a few deep pulls before they were at capacity. Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same. Taehyun could tell Beomgyu and you drank from each other. Could see it in the years after, the way you turned your nose up even at the bitter drink in your glass. 

You would never feel full again unless you had him back. 

Thirty minutes was enough time to go home and call soobin for a late night order. But your hunger was clawing up your throat, nails on a chalkboard begging for anything else. Having the time to think, sitting here, filled your mouth with the memory of him. Not just the taste of his blood but the faint drum of his turned heartbeat. You still remember the sound his human heart made. The way it pattered at the sight of you, that irregular beat speeding up every time you sat down in front of him, entered through the cherrywood door. 

How even after you had turned him his heart still acted as if it was tied to your presence, fluttering weakly even if it was all it could muster. 

It was that sound that made you turn, conjured up from memory only now to show up right behind you. Taehyun was frozen, face pale at the sight of his lost friend. He had only seen him once or twice after he had been turned but now he was no half human fledgling. 

Beomgyu and you were caught in a web of your own disastrous weaving, stuck in place witnessing the crumbling of love because seeing him only settled the grievances you held into stone.

He wasn't hollow like you were, empty from the time left alone, the bloodlust having fully settled over his skin making him shine in that uncanny beauty. Everything about his gentle human features has been frozen in place, the warmth in his brown eyes only enhanced in the light. How sickening to have to now face the reality of what you had done to him, what he must have run from once he realized he couldn't truly love the monster who infected him. 

It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach. You stumbled as you stood, not even worrying about the key taehyun had left for you next to your drink, not even a meal could keep you from running as far as you could. 

It had been too long for him to come back when you had given up on trying to wait for him. How many nights had been spent waiting for this exact moment? Only now for you to run away. How cruel fate could be. 

He was calling your name, that twinge of hurt mixed in with something close to pity, every syllable weaved through with the words, no, don't do this, don't make me feel sorry. Even his voice made you waver, the back and forth shake of your head confusing you as you walked down the wrong hallway. 

Even through the doors, you could smell the blood from the occupants behind them, like overripe fruit left to sit on the counter, nothing smelled the same after one drop from him. And now with Beomgyu right behind you, weak heartbeat still mimicking that first sight, it was impossible not to pinpoint the smell of him. Wrapping around you like fog; a haze you tried desperately to claw your way out of but you knew it was no use. You had never felt so hungry until then, carved clean through with the need. 

“Please, let me explain,” he tried, grasping at straws. He didn't intend to see you first, only planned on catching up with Taehyun and apologizing for leaving him behind without answers. Save this conversation for when he built up the courage. “Please,” 

His fingertips only brushed your arm, the shock of it going right down to your toes. It was instinct to turn and slap his hand away, and even in your exasperated exhale, that first acknowledgment was enough to make Beomgyu weak again, as if he had ever been anything but when attached to you. “What is there to explain? You left, you left me there, alone in our bed,” 

“I-” The words were stuck in his mouth, hanging right at the edge of his tongue and yet all that came up was a frustrated laugh, “well did you miss me?” even just hearing his own words he could tell you would fume. 

“Did I mi- you left me! You fucking left me, if anything now I just hate you,” 

It was so easy to fall back into it with you, as if you had woken up alone a few days ago not centuries, “look what you did to me. What I've become, don't act as if you're so innocent in this, don't blame me for decisions we both made,” 

The words felt like a slap in the face. That night you had turned him so clear in your mind, the way he had begged, the way he had burned. It was one of the hardest things you had ever done, most vampires went their whole lifetime without infecting anyone because of how hard it was to complete and yet you had. 

“I turned you after you asked me. Do you know how much it takes? And then like some love-sick fool, I drank from you and every day I think about how stupid I was to believe you would stay. After I left behind everything I knew just so that I could have some human boy stay with me. How pathetic,” the last word was thick, sticking to your throat and pulling your tears forward. “You should go back to wherever you ran away to, climb into some feeders bed to keep warm for all I care,” 

You turned, ready to close the door on a life you wished you had. The one you begged for after nights spent alone clinging to the sheets that still smelled of him. But Beomgyu wouldn't have it, his grip tight on your wrist as he pulled you back, “It was never about changing me, I left because I wanted to know if it was real- that intensity was so…consuming, I was scared and so I ran. I ran and I looked for some way to replicate it because I'm a fucking fool who can't see right in front of himself. You made me addicted to you, I begged you to do this to me and yet I ran. Im sorry,” 

“You can say that but you stayed away so long I'm sure you found some poor soul to swallow down by the mouthful,” he could feel your resentment coiling around him, snapping back at his desperate attempt to explain. Because there was no way for him to get the words out, even after running them around his head for the years he had lost all because of his own fear. 

That night was stuck right behind his eyelids, replaying over and over. Your body pressed to his, soundlessly sleeping as he looked up at your shared canopy bed. Your blood was still singing through his body, staining his perception of life before you. He didn't know he could be so utterly infected by someone so much so that it colored his sky differently. Your soft breathing was enough to tear him apart, he wanted countless nights spent exactly like that one, just watching you, listening to you sleep. And it scared him. He thought humans had been over-emotional, feeling things as they came, wallowing in them because they had little time to let it spread out. But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,” 

The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?” 

Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,” 

Even just the word from his mouth made your fangs ache. You had been getting by on so little for so long. He was the only thing your body needed and you knew he must feel the same. Your mouth was filled with saliva, that venom that numbed prey or set them ablaze. You tried to swallow but you could already taste him, the movement of your throat making his eyes zero in on your pulse. You were no better watching his adam’s apple bob, connecting the dots on long since gone trails of hickeys you’d left before. 

Neither of you knew who moved first, moaning against lips you were sure you’d never kiss again. His sweet venom singing on your tongue. His hands were heavy on your body, pulling you closer as he pushed you against the hallway wall. He wanted to melt into you, his desperation crawling up his skin, hips keeping you in place. 

You chuckled into his mouth, the sound rattling in the back of his throat like a prayer he wanted to keep to himself. “You always did get hard from kissing,” his whimper in response is followed by the grind of his bulge against you. How fast his body reacted to your touch didn’t change when he did. 

His heart was picking up speed, your fingers running through his hair, the groves of your fingertips slotting back into place amongst the strands. Beomgyu’s fangs were already elongating, nipping your bottom lip. He had always felt so good about his self-control, accounting those early days of overfeeding on you for the simple fact of being so recently changed, he should have known you were the variable that cracked the hold he had on himself. It was only worse now that he'd nicked you enough to mix blood into the kiss, his throaty moan rumbling against your body, sinking into your soul. 

You're both stumbling to find a room, twisting knobs until you find an empty one. The silk bed envelops the both of you as you fall into it, peeling off layers of clothes. Beomgyu can smell your sweet arousal between your legs the second he's pushed them apart to kneel between. 

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,” 

“You're impossible to forget,” and when you expected him to bite you, following the pattern of his usual ravishing but he skipped it, shocking you with his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking deeply. 

His mouth is on a direct line to your spine, your back arching off the bed. His tongue is hot on you, tracing the lines of your folds, and moaning into your slick. He missed these desperate whines you let slip, the perfect backtrack to the messy slurping sounds he's started. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed his mouth, your fingers twisting into his hair the second he brushed a fang against your swollen bud. He loved to tease but it had been too long since you felt your orgasm rise so fast. 

Beomgyu was eating you like he missed your pussy, your stomach tightening, hips sinking into the sheets. It only takes a few more precise sucks with his puffy lips before your toes are curling, eyes rolling back as you cum for him. His chuckle vibrates against you before he pulls away, chin shining with your wetness. “I missed the taste of you,” 

He hasn't even tried to find someone else to take care of his needs, not when he knew no other cunt could compare to the way yours perfectly molded to him, sucking him in to the hilt. The memory alone is what had him rushing to get inside of you, cock already leaking rivets of precum. 

You've never felt so needy in your life, fangs and pussy aching for him. The drag of his tip from your clit to your weeping entrance makes your knees fall open. One of his hands guides himself to push into you and the other tenderly holds your hip in place. Your mouth drops open at the stretch, slow as he lets you take in the feeling, needing you to remember how full he kept you. 

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,” 

But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours. 

“then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

As many times as he's crossed your mind, thinking about his fangs in your neck was something that would never compare to the moment they finally sunk in. You had never let anyone feed from you, not until he was there in front of you pleading. You were no better, not after you had changed him, needing to drain him of almost everything. But with one nod he was biting you. 

Beomgyu’s mouth was flooded with your blood, the familiar flavor of iron mixed with the undercurrent of sweet delicacy. He’d dream about the first bite, mouth tingling, fangs brought forward on nothing but the memory of you. Now he was ravenous, so shocked by his own hunger with its pounding fists on nailed shut doors. His hips stuttered in his thrusting, caught on the ecstasy of quenched starvation. 

You felt your mind slip into that hazy space, anything he asked would be answered, every action would be taken, and all you knew was him and him alone. To have that numbing venom injected into your bloodstream was enough to break even the strongest down into puddles of simmering whimpers. 

It was hard to pull away and keep himself from overfeeding like he wished he could. But he felt his orgasm cresting, stomach flexing as his balls tightened. Beomgyu shoved his wrist to your waiting lips, your fangs stinging as they pierced his weak flesh. You drank deeply, thick swallows of the ichor you had prayed to get back on your tongue.

Everything was crashing down around you, beomgyu groaning as you clenched around him, fluttering walls sucking him in as you came, taking everything he had to give. He was a mess of moans, clinging to you as if that could keep him grounded when he felt this good. Every slow shallow thrust only pushes his cum further into you, still being pulled from him with every pulse of your greedy pussy. 

Neither of you can believe how lost you had become, falling into each other like stars crashing into nothing but pooling darkness, so full of energy the only option was to collapse. And it's just what you did, twisting into each other's hold, beomgyu’s kisses pressed over the puncture marks he's made on you, nose brushing up and down your skin trying to keep your scent close. 

Breathing evening you fought back the worry settling in. He had left before, walked right out the door without you knowing anything wrong had been on his mind, what was keeping him from doing it all over again? 

“Stop thinking,” he muttered, mouth finding yours, mixing the flavors of your blood together as he kissed you. “I don't think I could find it in myself to ever leave again,” but he was pulling away, his playful smirk lingering on his lip cleansing your worrying mind if even for a movement. “How could I ever leave again after seeing how happy and full you are after only one round?” he pulled his still hard cock from you, the gush of cum slipping out, pooling on his ready fingers only to shove them right back into your waiting cunt. “No, nothing could keep me from this sight ever again,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @no1likemybbgcharlie @beomiracles want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[vershautece]

i just know lu would make sooo many dirty jokes while ur supposed to be having a sweet moment cuddling or something lol

you’d be leaning against his chest on the sofa watching TV, talking about anything. ‘what do you want for dinner tonight, do you want me to make it?’ he asks you. ‘we can just get Thai takeout if you want, get a bunch of stuff and share it between us?’ ‘yeah, we’ll do that, pull up the menu on your phone’ and then he whispers in your ear ‘your tits look so good in this top baby’ as he grips them in his big hands and u fall back further into his chest at the feeling and giggle: ‘luigi, mm’ and then his hands are softly caressing your torso up and down, continuing to talk like normal as if he didn’t just grab your tits out of nowhere and make ur panties damp

or you’ll be eating a banana or something that shape lolll and he’s sat there smirking at u, he’d say something that would nearly make u choke on your food: ‘not as good as my cock, no?’ - ‘luigi, shut up just let me eat this’

imagine lu with an academic gf who’s doing her phd and he’d make soooo many jokes - he keeps saying ‘u already have a phd, u get it for free inside you every night in this bed’

in the shower too :’) you’d have so many sweet, cosy showers just washing each other bc i think he’d love to shower with u as much as possible, and i can imagine him just making little comments: ‘i can see you staring at my cock baby’ he’d tease. ‘you had it in your mouth just last night, you want it again huh?’ ‘lu, shut up i swear, i need to get to work i can’t do this right now’ u roll your eyes playfully, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as u wrap yours around his neck, the two of you pressing soft kisses to each other’s neck and shoulders

cuddling completely entangled together and kissing each other’s faces softly during conversation - you’re discussing something about the night before. ‘lu i swear i told you about this literally last night, how do you not remember’ - ‘i don’t think you did baby there wasn’t much time you spent last night without my cock in your mouth’ - you gasp, taken aback looking at him, and you both start laughing. ‘baby, you’re ridiculous’ u giggle into his neck. ‘just telling the truth, bellissima’ he chuckles, and his deep voice dropping that word in italian on u so casually like that sends a rush of heat to your core that u have to ignore bc you’re so exhausted and just wanna lay in his arms

& imagine you’re spooning just talking about ur day and suddenly he just bucks his hips up into you and starts fake fucking you through your clothes, laughing as he does. u reach your arm back to push him back playfully: ‘luigi oh my god why do you always do that out of nowhere, stop it’ ur giggling as he pulls u tighter to him and peppers kisses along the side of your neck

i just think he’d fake fuck u so much because he’s so cocky w the phd jokes and size kink😖 even feeling him soft against u would turn u on so much bc he’s so big

and don’t get me started with how often he’d be smacking ur ass and grabbing it. he’d smack ur ass lightly out of nowhere and then knead it in his big hands >.< like while ur cleaning your room or making food he’ll come up behind u

and when ur sitting on his lap so comfy, turned to the side a lil because you’re tucked into his chest so your ass is facing upwards slightly and he has room to give it a light smack and just grab and knead it while u giggle and bury your head in his neck

also in bed if ur sleeping position is cuddling facing each other and u have one leg hooked over his thigh he’ll like hold u by your ass and gently squeeze it every so often. ‘mm, lu, you’re gonna make me horny, i need to go to sleep’ - ‘alright, baby, i just love touching on you’ he laughs softly, giving your ass another tight squeeze and a smack before moving his hand up to grip your waist. ‘love you baby, you can fuck me in the morning’ you whisper to him

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things : chapter twelve

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks, fingering

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Sticky and wet. Your pants are sticky and wet. 

Pulling your panties up while still damp was a big mistake, you think as you walk back through the restaurant. The water you spilled in the restroom is all down your ass and is quickly cooling to an uncomfortable temperature, not to mention the absolute mess of cum and spit that's currently in the gusset of your panties-

And yet none of it manages to ruin your mood. 

Really, you should feel bad. Guilty, at the very least. You should be feeling bad about doing this to Touya, doing this in a public fucking space--

But, you don’t. Not in the slightest. No, you feel good. Better than you have in a very long time. There’s a levity in your step that you don't think you've ever had. It takes effort to tamp down your smile as you slide back into the table, adjusting your hair just in case. Your whole body is buzzing with post orgasm bliss, but you can't let Hizashi know that. 

“Oh my god, there you are!”  Hizashi slams his hands down and groans. “I thought you got lost!”

You never even got to pee. That’s a bit of a bummer, but you think it’s a worthy sacrifice. Fuck, you’ll never pee again if that's the alternative.

“There was a line,” you dismiss. God, you need to cum more often. This is great. Maybe you can masturbate tonight when you get back to the hotel room-

A tingle thrills up your spine as you remember the fact that you won't be alone tonight. No, Aizawa is coming back with you, putting that talented fucking mouth of his to good use. You should have tried this years ago; it certainly would have made work more tolerable. It would have made Aizawa more tolerable too.

 Fuck, you wish you could tell Hizashi that he was right; having fun is great. You had almost forgotten that being in love could be fun. 

Not that you're in love. That would be criminally insane. You're just high off of post orgasmic bliss. 

“Where did Aizawa go?” you ask, casually. Hizashi quirks a brow as he takes a sip of his drink. 

“Taking a call. Manufacturing had an issue, apparently.” 

“Again?” 

Manufacturing is always having an issue; it comes with the territory for biomedical companies. Production of the products is actually outsourced, including the computer chips needed for the bed. Most of the time, issues can be dealt with internally, but there are also times that it has to be elevated all the way to engineering. It’s a good lie, in theory, but Aizawa is going to have to explain why they are contacting a lead engineer and not someone lower on the food chain.

“Um,” you shift in your seat. The excitement inside you needs to come out or else you might explode.  “I got a text from the guy from last night.” 

“Shut up-- that’s why you were gone so long, huh? Sexting in the bathroom?”

Oh, he’d die if he knew the truth. Absolutely die.

“We weren’t sexting.” Not a lie! “But, I think I'm going to invite him over to my room tonight.”

Hizashi tilts his head down so he can look at you from over his glasses. It's a very Nemuri move, complete with her little smirk. 

“Are you gonna just make out again, or…?”

You tap your heels against the floor.

“No,” you hum, as innocently as possible. 

“No?”

“No, I--” Oh, you have to literally bite your tongue to kill your smile. It's like being sixteen again, giddy and giggly over nothing-  “I think I wanna do more.”

With a mouth like that, you might just let Aizawa do whatever he wants. Hell, you had asked to go slow, but now that you've had a taste, you don't know if you can keep the brakes on. You had forgotten how good it feels to be wanted, to be craved, to be touched… and Shouta seems determined to give you everything you need. 

 Hizashi physically reacts by grabbing the table and shaking it with a slack jawed amazement.

“Yes! Yes!” You have to grab your drink and Aizawa to stop them from spilling, but you're laughing all the while. “Good for you!”

“Hizashi, the waters!”

“Who is this guy?” Hizashi asks. “Is he cute? Is he nice?”

Is Aizawa cute? Not really. He's more… handsome than cute. Hardened, but soft. And he's certainly not nice. In fact, you’d label him as very not nice. Mean, even. Though, he did get you that sandwich this morning, which was really sweet. And he has those cats, which makes him a little softer than you first imagined-

“He's okay, I guess,” you settle on. 

Hizashi nods, a bit too solemn. It sets you on edge, the way he clams up as he watches you, eyeing up and down over and over. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks.

“Shut up.”  He leans in on his elbows, sternly.  “It's Shouta, isn't it?”

Don't panic. You're pinned down, like a bug under glass, but you can't panic. Luckily, your brain is still stupidly swimming, so you're able to fight your institution and just stare back at him with what you hope is a bewildered glare.

“What.”

The man leans back and scoffs, then scoffs again, louder. His hand lies over his heart as if you've slapped him, indignant. The restaurant suddenly isn’t loud enough; you need the music to be turned up or for the crowd to get thicker to hide what’s about to come out of this man’s mouth.

“Oh my god, it's totally him! You’re totally boning!” 

Fuck. Double fuck. 

“I mean, you both just disappeared at the same time-”  Hizashi jolts up mid sentence. “Did you guys just fuck in the bathroom?! Oh my god, good for you! Is he good? He’s gotta be good-”

Oh, shit. Oh, damn. The room might be closing in on you actually. It's time to do what you do worst: lie. You push away from the table with a snort, lip curled up the way Aizawa's does.

“That's disgusting , Hizashi.” Oh, there’a vitriol in that. You almost smile out of pride, but you keep your cool. You have to-- you can't ruin this thing between you before it's even really started. “In a bathroom? With him? I'd rather die.” 

Your charade doesn’t seem to affect him.

“Oh, come on-” he laughs. “You're telling me you two don't have something going on? You both just magically found other people last night?”

“I wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on earth,” you insist.  “Aizawa is awful! Awful! Why would I ever-?”

A figure looms over you. “What did I walk into?”

Triple fuck. From someone who stomps most of the time, Aizawa certainly has a quiet step today. You swivel around, trying to flash a panicked look. Somehow, Aizawa seems to understand. His brow flickers up for a brief second, then returns to the usual unimpressed spot. Should you be worried that the two of you have figured out lying this easily? Usually, Touya just lies to you, not with you.

“Hizashi thinks we're sleeping together.” You wave a hand dismissively. You hope that no one else notices that Aizawa’s face is noticeably damp-- freshly washed.

“Ugh.” He rolls his head back as if he’s been slapped, sliding into the seat beside Hizashi. His foot bumps against you and you question if it’s on purpose. Is.. was that his good leg? Or the bad one? Maybe he’s kicking you accidentally.  “Her? What's wrong with you?”

Oh, ouch. That. Huh.

Logically, you know it’s just part of the lie you’ve started, but it still somehow stings. Rejection, even fake rejection, makes you ache. It falls too close to home, too close to Touya. (Not that you’re thinking about Touya tonight. No-- you’re allowing yourself to have fun. You’re forgetting him the same way he’s probably forgotten about you--)

 Swallowing down your pride, you adjust yourself in your seat, pulling on your still soaked pants-

“You aren't a prize either.” Again, your own bite surprises you. “I've been dealing with your shitty attitude for years and-”

“My shitty attitude? You're the one who stomps around when your boyfriend gets fired.”

Your jaw falls slack. Okay, you should be offended, but… there’s an edge of something attractive in the way his dark eyes narrow. The grit to his voice reminds you of moments ago, how he talks to you when you’re alone-

“That’s rich.” You’re watching his face. Oh, that sting? It’s changed. Now, there’s a simmering want inside you, begging to be fed. You need him mad, need him angry, need him riled up- “Where’s your girlfriend?”

There’s a freeze. Both men have mirrored expressions of surprise. Aizawa blinks, then tightens his expression. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You lift your glass and pretend to inspect the liquid inside.  “You’ve been single since I’ve met you.”

Stunned, Hizashi opens his mouth to say something, but Aizawa beats him to the punch. He bends over the table with a glowering expression, those dark eyes boring into you. It reminds you of the fights you two had in office, but now that expression thrills you instead of terrifies.

“Oh, fuck you,” he seethes. “Sorry that I’m not whoring myself over the office with the interns.”

Oh, you kind of want to suck his cock right now. Obviously, you’ve always had a thing for red flags, but this is kind of ridiculous. He must have done something fucking magical or satanic to you pussy to make you act like this. Are you acting insane? You might be acting insane.

“Excuse me?” you ask through your teeth.

Oh, he’s riled up now, his eyes narrowed into slits. “ I saw those bruises you sucked into Kaminari.”

That steals a genuine laugh from you. Is that a genuine concern for him? You certainly hope not; Denki is… well, he’s Denki. He’s a sweet guy in his own regard, but you wouldn’t touch him with  a ten foot pole. He’s young and, clearly, you prefer older guys.

(Huh. That’s a new revelation for you. Touya is your age, but… There’s something unbelievably sexy about the grey at Aizawa’s temple, the wrinkles next to his eyes-)

“You think I’m fucking that kid? Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

Oh, you hope he does. You hope he absolutely ruins you. 

“Fuck-”

“Okay, okay,” Hizashi interrupts you, arms spread as if keeping you both from leaping over the table. “You people! What happened to the truce?”

“You happened!” 

Somehow the rest of dinner goes well. Hizashi makes sure the conversation steers towards work and his plans for the night. You do have to give the wait staff an extra big tip-- Hizashi may have said ‘butt plug’ a bit too loudly for the poor guy’s comfort.  

Occasionally, Shouta looks your way. He ponders a bit too long on your features, has a bit too much of a smile on his face. His leg bumps against your again, a silent reminder that he’s there. Honestly, thank god that Hizashi was convinced by your lies, because this man is being obvious.

And frankly, you’re living for it. 

You’re still vibrating with excitement by the time you all leave together. He’s coming back to your room tonight, coming back for more. You might be getting addicted to this feeling, addicted to being wanted, to cumming on someone’s tongue-

Maybe you should throw caution to the wind and fuck him.

Oh, that thought sends a chill up your spine. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled. Sex always came with anxiety before, but now, you might be excited. Especially when Aizawa’s cock seems so fucking thick-

“You all ready for tomorrow?” Hizashi’s voice shocks you out of your thoughts. God, you’re worse than him! One orgasm and you’ve devolved into a needy pervert. 

Aizawa groans, pressing his thumbs into his temples. The hotel lobby buzzes with life as you all enter. The tiles seems to get more dazzling at night, blue illuminated by the dangling chandeliers and air of excitement. 

 “No. It’s going to be a long night.”

Hizashi elbows his friend’s side. “No mysterious girl for you tonight, huh? Too busy studying?”

Aizawa is starkly quiet for a long moment, mouth screwed tight as if the question upset him. You almost worry that he’s considering it-- that he’s going to go back to his room  without you, and dread sets into your bones. The need has already built back up inside you, anticipation tingling all the way to your fingers. It’s a little alarming, how quickly you’ve gotten addicted to the idea of fucking him, to cumming with him-

Aizawa shrugs away your worries. “I’ll find time.”

Internally, you cheer.

“Aw, you dog. Now- Do I need to supervise you two?” Hizashi teases as he turns on his heel, walking backwards into the hall.  “Escort you to your rooms so you don’t murder each other in the elevator?”

“I think we’ll manage,” you say as you press the button. Hizashi leaves and the two of you are left in silence.

The elevator door rumbles closed behind you two after you both set in. Aizawa shifts back against the wall with a sigh, barely audible over the gentle muzak. He looks tired, but in a different way than usual: a gentle, content exhaustion, one that wears well on his features, but doesn’t deepen the creases on his brow. It suits him much more than the usual, miserable look he has. 

“I should stop by my room before-” Aizawa starts.

You press off of the wall and close the distance between you. It doesn't matter what he was going to say, because you weren't going to listen anyway. Instead, you press yourself up on to your toes and catch his lips mid sentence, moving fast and sure enough that you catch him completely off guard. You can feel his surprise in his inward gasp as you force him back against the cold steel wall. There's a moment of hesitation -shock, you realize gleefully- before he caves into you, hands on your waist dragging you in until your hips press against his. 

The quiet gives you space to enjoy the tiny moments he gives you: the hitch in his breath when you hold him tighter, the rumble in his chest when your teeth close around his lower lip, the sound of fabric against fabric as his hands drift lower and his hands grip your ass- 

“You really piss me off,” he mumbles into you. “You get off on lying, don’t you?”

Only with him, you think. Only with you. The door dings open and you loosen your grip, but Aizawa holds firm, holds tight. 

“Aizawa,” you mumble into his lips, but he just keeps going. “Ai-”

Another peck shuts you up for a moment. 

“Shouta!”

Finally, he reacts and lets you go, his touch trailing on you for just a moment longer. You have to jut out an arm to stop the door from closing again.

“Listen-”  he exhales. “I am going to my room. I’m going to shower, brush my teeth, then come to you. Okay?”

More than okay. Perfect. Excellent. Ideal. 

“Okay.” You try to play it cool, but his nose wrinkles in delight at the tremble in your voice. “I’ll be waiting.”

 Stepping out of the elevator, you glance behind one last time. It feels like you should say something, give him a goodbye, but instead you just watch the doors close in silence. His eyes never leave you, staring with a silent, hungering desire.

You might have to fuck him. 

Back in your room, you do the same as him. You brush your teeth, rinse the day off of your body, and contemplate yourself in the fogged reflection of the mirror. The buzzing in your skin is either anxiety or excitement, maybe a bit of both, but you can’t stop riding the high that comes with them. Being wanted feels good, too good, impossibly good- so good that you’re afraid it’s about to be taken away.

Logically, it will be. This… thing must have a terminating point somewhere. There’s no possible way that the two of you continue this into the workplace, is there? Everything ends at some point, everyone leaves eventually-

No. Focus. Have fun. Focus on having fun.

You didn’t pack any perfume, so you hope the hotel body wash smells alluring enough. Your hair still looks okay enough that you don’t need to bother styling it- but you still try to, just a bit. It’s normal to want to look nice, to smell soft, to be soft, but there’s also an embarrassment to wanting to be pretty. You hadn’t felt it before, but now, you’re suddenly concerned about the curves of your body and how it sits differently than you want. He’s seen most of you before, and yet you’re now caught up in the imperfections. Which underwear did you pack again? Nothing sexy, that’s for sure. Only skin tone bras too. Fuck-- you don’t actually know if you own anything enticing. 

Do you even own anything sexy?

What clothes should you even wear for him anyway? I’d be strange to put your clothes back on, right? What about pajamas? What will he be wearing? Hopefully not that fucking yellow sweatshirt he works in. You find yourself pacing around the room in only your towel, tidying up and trying to decide what the best option is. Maybe just a shirt? Like Winnie the Pooh?

No, that’s stupid. Ugh, you wish you were someone like Nemuri, someone bold and sexy and confident--

What would Nemuri do?

The dreaded knock at the door stocks you from your worry. You make a quick decision; turning out all of the lights, you tiptoe to the front door and peer out the peephole. Yes, it’s him, dressed in a simple white shirt, dark hair freshly washed. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but perhaps on the brink of anxious. 

Why would he be nervous? The thought makes you giggle. Maybe, just maybe, he’s just as jittery as you are over this-

But you doubt it.

Before you lose your nerve, you open the door, still in your towel. Aizawa’s eyes widen just a bit, then narrow with a keen excitement.

“Am I too early?” he teases.

“No,” you reply, “Just in time.”

And you let your towel drop.

A beat passes before he reacts. Aizawa’s jaw literally drops. Before you can revel in the satisfaction, he’s crowding you again, hands ghosting over your body as if he can’t decide where to touch first. His shirt is rough against your bare skin and you’re suddenly very aware of how your nipples have pearled up. The hotel’s air conditioning is rolling, much colder than you’d ever make your home, and your skin is goosepimpling under it, but you’re still so hot, so warm-

“Oh god,” he whispers, breathy, barely sane. “Look at you.”

The first kiss is wild, breath stealing, rough- it forces you back a step, just far enough that the door slams closed and leaves you in the dark. His touch has settled on your chest, cupping your tits up between his fingers in a boyish way, one that's so much less precise than his usual way of loving you. 

“God-” he says again. “God-”

Suddenly, his lips are gone and you can feel him hunched over you, breath hot against your tits. The gentle tug of teeth scares a gasp out of you, then floods your body with heat.

“I want to see you,” Aizawa's mouth closes around your nipple for a second, his spit cooling almost instantly. ”I want to touch you-” 

His hand wraps around your thigh and squeezes. Your body burns hot, your core tight, cunt wet- Hotel darkness, with the curtains drawn, feels deeper than home. Only the red numbers of the clock illuminate the nightstand. You can't see how he moves, how he looks, but you can feel it--

And you want to feel more, more, more, as much as he'll give you.

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.’

He drops to his knees with a quick, labored exhale. Fuck- his leg. He’s already kissing the lower round of your stomach, trailing down to the curve of your mons, taking his sweet, sweet time. 

“Aizawa-” Your hands run through his hair and gently urge him back, but he just presses on, pulling your knee over his shoulder- “Your leg-”

He's not listening. He's too busy nudging your legs apart, bumping his shoulder into your knee until it gives to him. For the second time that night, Aizawa puts his mouth on you. This time, he inhales, embarrassingly deep. 

“Ah-” the sound escapes you involuntarily. “Don't-- don't smell me.” 

The hot press of tongue ignites something inside you, something innate. Your hips buck on their own, the ridge of his nose bumping against your still swollen clit. After earlier, your pussy is still puffy and well loved, and the pressure sends your spine straight. 

“I should have shaved-” you babble. His arm has looped around your supporting leg.  “I'm sorry, I should have-”

In the dark, every touch feels more. More powerful, more potent, more smoldering: his hand is drifting up, under your ass and in, in, in-

When his fingers join his tongue, spreading your cunt open wider from behind.

“God-” Your brain is soup, stewing in its own electric pleasure. You can feel the chill of his inhales again and it's all you can do to whine, to push away his forehead- “God, don't smell me-”

“Shut the fuck up.”  He rips his mouth away from you and you can feel his eyes staring up in the dark. “Just-- shut up and take it.”

Your jaw clamps shut. Aizawa’s back on you, huffing and sucking greedily. Every muscle in your body is perking and clenching, your knee wobbling. His hand digs into your ass, dragging you so firmly against him that his nose bridge digs into your skin. The way he kisses at you is overwhelming; it feels like he’s pulling pleasure out of you, dragging it out hand over hand like it's attached to a string-

You want to cry or plead or curse or something. but Aizawa’s stolen your words from you, so all you can do is silently whine. 

It's too much, it's not enough, it's-

His free hand is suddenly on your cunt, a finger pressing up and into you. The sensation shocks a gasp out of you. It's not a lot, but it's been so long since anything been inside you; the sensation only worsens your needs, tightens the want-

A second finger slides in. There's a stretch and you suddenly feel drunk, like the room has tilted on its axis. 

You're going to fuck this man. You have to fuck this man. You might go insane if you don't get that cock inside you.

When you cum, it flushes every inch of your skin with a lumbering heat, like he's raking you over coals. It's ugly and brutal, it almost brings you to your knees, but Shouta holds you steady. He doesn't miss a beat, still lapping at your folds like he needs you to live.  

It's horrendous. It's torturous. The air punches out of your body as he strokes your already overworked clit. Tension bunches in every muscle, pulling you over him, hunched and panting. Your fingers claw at his scalp, tug his hair, but Shouta doesn't stop.

“I came-” you protest, voice climbing higher than ever. “I came, I came-- aa--”

He pulls away to speak.

“I know.” His fingers curl and press into you again, right against a deep spot. “Do it again.”

And he's on you again.This time, he’s more forward, aggressive with how he licks and suckles. It's no longer hungry-- it's mean. It doesn't coax pleasure from you, it forces.  

“I can't,” you whine. Every flick of tongue shocks more pleasure from you, burning through your cunt deep into your gut. You're boneless, you're stiff, you're wobbling-

 “I can't, I can't-”

Aizawa rests his cheek against your thigh, his fingers working harder and harder. It’s much more intense in the dark, where the only thing you can focus on is the feeling and the sound of his fingers squelching into you.

“You can-” He insists into your skin. He kisses the crease of your leg.  “Let go.”

“I can't-”

Oh, a pressure is building inside you, one that's rolling and rabid. You think you might literally be drooling, but you can't tell anymore; all you can think about is his fingers drilling into your pussy, urging faster-

“I can't.” 

He's not telling you to shut up anymore. He just says, firmly: “You can.”

And you do. 

It's a lift, that moment where gravity forgets you when the roller coaster crests the hill. There's nothing, blissful nothing, a weightless second where you can finally pull in a full breath. Maybe this is it, maybe you’ll never fall-

Then, it crashes. 

You think you might have gone blind for a moment. Stars flicker over your vision and your brain just can't keep up. Earlier, he compared it to a computer resetting and you suddenly understand exactly what he meant like that: your body slumps over as if he's pulled your batteries out. Aizawa has to pull his hands from you and brace to stop the both of you from tumbling over. 

“Hey now,” he grunts. “Do not fall.”

“Shut--shut up,” you manage to say, still all twitches and kicks. There’s… you’re.. There’s a lot going on right now and you can’t pull your brain together enough to process any of it. For a blissfully long time, you just are: no thoughts, no doubts, no worries. 

When you finally catch yourself, Aizawa’s still down on his knees, patting your flank in silent support.

“Are you alright?” His cheeks are dreadfully wet with you, caught in his stubble 

“No,” you whine. “I think I died.”

He pats the side of your thigh again. “You're fine. Help me up.”

Oh, shit. His leg. You pull yourself together enough to stand on your own. Your thighs rub together with their own wet and you’re horrified at the amount of it all. It’s down to your fucking knees. God, you didn’t even think you could do that. Blindly, you reach into the dark and take Aizawa’s hand, hoisting him off of the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Peachy. I’m just old.” He pulls on your hand and brings you closer. When his lips find yours, your own taste shocks a gasp out of you. His face is as wet as your legs, stubble gritting against your chin. It’s surprisingly gentle and affectionate, as if he didn’t just change your fucking life with his tongue.

“I should get you a towel or something,” you say as you pull away.

Aizawa snorts, his grip on you only tightening. You try to imagine the look on his face. Maybe he’s licking the ridge of his teeth, maybe he’s glowering. Maybe he’s smiling, looking down at you with that almost loving affection.  “You don’t think we’re done, do you?��� 

Uh oh.

Uh oh.

In the dark, he pushes you backward, both of you blindly bumping into walls and the edge of the tv stand.  Each bump and bruise steal a giggle out of you and him, but the laughter does nothing to diffuse the want you feel emanating from his touch. Eventually, the back of your legs hits the soft down of the bed and you pause, trying to hold him a bit farther away and failing. You had forgotten that he’s still fully dressed; his belt buckle is frigid against your skin.

“Shouta, my legs are shaking.” Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, fumbling with the edge. Maybe you can distract him, give yourself time to recover. “I can’t take anymore.”

Shouta is mirroring your motions, running his fingers across the soft of your stomach. The touch makes you feel shy and you wiggle away from the touch. Technically, he’s seen you completely naked, but touching feels like a deeper sense of knowledge, especially in the dark. 

“Two orgasms?” He squeezes your side again. “That’s really all it takes?” 

“Three…” you remind.

“Two.” He’s firm. “The second one doesn’t count.”

The air conditioning rushes back on and you nearly shiver. The heat of your orgasm still warms your cheeks, but you’re still naked, still exposed. “Why not?”

“Wasn’t big enough.”

“Felt big.”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth.  “You poor, neglected thing.” 

Hands find your shoulders and push, knocking you back on to the mattress with an ‘oof’. The bed shifts under his weight and you can feel him there, hovering over you in the dark, just a breath away. All you can do is lay there and try to make out the shapes of him. The red glow of the alarm clock catches his eye and you suddenly know he’s watching you, probably searching for your way in the same way.

“What-?”  you breathe. “What are you gonna do with me?”

You don’t know what you want the answer to be, but you aren’t expecting a chuckle. 

“I’m going to do-”  Shouta breathes, deep and dark and hungry, closer to a growl than a whisper. “Whatever I want.”

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Six

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 5769 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Feelings are acknowledged. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. We finally have the sexy times! Dry humping, oral, unprotected P in V.

a/n: work is going to be insane this week so posting this earlier than planned. hope you enjoy the hell out of it!

Series Masterlist

Chest heaving, Dave slowed to a walk along the frigid shoreline, his sneakers crunching the frozen sand. The steady roar of waves crashing ashore, the sharp bite of winter air in his lungs, none of it was enough to clear his mind. Five miles at an eight-minute pace – usually enough to drown out the noise in his head – had done nothing to shake you from his thoughts.

He kissed his stepdaughter. Slept with his stepdaughter…

Not in the biblical sense, but literally. Last night, with you curled up in his arms, was the best fucking sleep he’d had in years, decades even. You’d fallen asleep against his chest, breathing even and steady, and your body fitting against his like a puzzle piece he didn’t know was missing.

Dave barely remembered slipping into your bed. What started as a conversation about everything you’d been holding in – your frustrations, your doubts – had ended with his arms around you, his lips pressed to your temple as you drifted off. He hadn’t thought about Lisa once.

Why would he when he had you in his arms?

The pull to stay in bed with you that morning was almost impossible to resist. Even as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtained windows high up the wall, bathing you in the softest, ethereal glow, he hesitated to leave. You looked so peaceful, lips curved into the faintest smile, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dreamed. It tugged at his hardened heart, leaving him almost afraid to shatter the spell.

Dave kissed your forehead tenderly before finally slipping out of the room, his bare feet soundless on the carpet. He knew if he didn’t leave then, he never would at all.

And now, here he was, running himself ragged in the biting cold, trying to convince himself this wasn’t insane. That he could somehow compartmentalize this – keep the lines clean and unblurred. He was good at that, compartmentalizing.

It had been a survival skill, his ticket through years of bloody assignments and moral ambiguity. That skill alone kept his marriage to Carol stable and his family safe with plausible deniability of his darker deeds.

But this? Starting something with his stepdaughter, of all people? This was uncharted territory, even for him.

The vibration of his phone pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Fishing it out of his pocket, he frowned at the screen. Roger.

Roger: How did your meeting with Anna go?

Might as well get this over with, Dave thought, hitting the call button instead of texting back.

Roger answered on the first ring, his voice oily with satisfaction. “Anna’s taken with you, York. Insisted on moving the meeting to tomorrow instead of next week. You must have made quite the impression.”

Dave exhaled slowly, willing his irritation to stay buried as he ignored Roger’s remarks. “Fine.”

“I’ll book a hotel for you,” Roger added cheekily. “Give you a chance to… cement her trust after the meeting.”

Over his dead fucking body, Dave thought. Jaw tightening, he responded in an icy tone, “I prefer the café if you don’t mind.”

Roger’s chuckle echoed down the line, grating his ears. “Suit yourself, York. Shame to waste this opportunity. Women like her don’t grow on trees.”

This conversation was already his blood pressure to rise. “I’m a married man, Roger, or did you forget that fact?”

“We’re all married men, York. What the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s a motto to live by,” the other man replied.

The truth of that statement was not wasted on Dave as his thoughts immediately turned back to you. Hitting the end call button without saying another word, the conversation ended as abruptly as it began. Dave clenched his phone in one hand, the waves crashing endlessly behind him matching the sudden building headache.

By the time he reached home, the kitchen buzzed with life. The smell of pancakes and syrup mixed with the aroma of coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter – your laughter – rising above the exuberant chatter of his daughters.

Dave’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile, but it faltered when his gaze shifted to his wife.

Lisa sat at the island, nursing a steaming cup of coffee in an oversized mug, her expression sharp enough to cut glass as she glowered at the scene before her.

The girls were doubled over in giggles as you balanced a piece of pancake on your fork like a morsel from the finest meal. “I swear, I could eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!” you declared with infectious enthusiasm.

Dave leaned against the doorway, taking it all in. The warmth of the scene, the way his daughters looked at you like you hung the moon, giggling maniacally – they hadn’t done that with anyone since Carol passed – and the way you smiled as though nothing bad could ever touch you. It was a stark contrast to the cold knot in his stomach from everything pressing down on him.

Lisa’s eyes flicked to him, her glare shifting from you to him in a blink. “Nice of you to join us,” she muttered with a razor-sharp tone.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he straightened. “Went for a run,” he said simply, walking past his wife to grab a glass of water.

“I can see that,” she shot back. “How very… productive of you, especially after a night out with the boys. You must’ve had fun. You didn’t come home last night.”

Dave didn’t take the bait, his focus was on draining the glass of water before refilling it. He grabbed a pancake from your plate with a wink as he strolled from the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to shower.”

It was going to be a long fucking day.

You were just clearing the table from breakfast when Dave returned dressed in dark jeans and a light blue sweater, his socked feet silent on the wood flooring as he entered the kitchen.

You noticed him immediately as if sensing him before hearing or seeing him. His soulful eyes flickered toward you with something unspoken shining in them. It wasn’t just the casual acknowledgment of your presence. It was deeper than that. A thread of awareness that tightened whenever you were near each other. You knew because you felt it, too.

Grateful that your mom left to go shopping and the girls played with Ranger in the living room, you enjoyed the private moment with Dave. You didn’t have the chance to talk to him about last night yet. You wanted, needed to, but suddenly the nerves kicked in.

“Have a good run?” you asked keeping your voice light and easy, though your hands stilled where they were piling dirty dishes next to the sink.

“Yeah,” Dave replied, his tone much softer than it had been with your mother earlier. “Beach is damn cold, though.”

You hummed, biting your lip as you glanced at the girls – they were glued to the TV as another Disney movie played – before stepping sideways to stand closer to Dave than necessary. You needed to feel his heat, feel him. The proximity made your pulse quicken, a rush of heat blooming in your chest and traveling upwards toward your neck and face.

“Did you want coffee?” you questioned, a breath above a whisper, tilting your head as you reached for the nearly empty pot. “I saved the last bit for you.”

Dave turned to you, eyes like raw umber searching yours before shaking his head, his damp hair flopping over his forehead with the motion. One large hand reached up to sweep his fingers through the locks, slicking it back into place. “I’m good, thanks.”

For a moment, it felt like the kitchen faded around you.

Neither of you moved, the air between you charged with something you both felt but hadn’t dared name yet. Your fingers brushed his as you moved the coffee pot, the brief contact enough to send a shiver down your spine while dumping the remaining contents down the drain.

Without uttering a sound, Dave helped you rinse and load the soiled dishes and flatware into the dishwasher. As the last plate was placed in the bottom rack, you turned to grab a dish towel, only to find Dave standing closer than before. His broad frame filled the small space between you and the counter, his proximity sending a flicker of electricity through the air.

“Thanks for helping,” you said, voice soft yet filled with nerves. Your limbs were practically trembling with the electricity arcing between you and him.

Dave’s lips quirked into a small, almost hesitant smile. “Didn’t seem fair to leave you with all the cleanup after you did all the cooking.”

Folding the dish towel over the edge of the sink, you avoided his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I’m not used to it,” you replied lightly.

“Doesn’t mean you should be.”

When you looked up, his eyes were on you – dark and steady, filled with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

“Dave…” you started but lost your words as he stepped ever closer.

His hand reached out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before his knuckles brushed your cheek. Your breath hitched, the skin-on-skin contact causing the world to tilt on its axis. His hand shifted, the pad of his thumb running along your jawline in a gentle, grounding touch.

The last of your resolve, and nerves, wavered under his mesmerizing gaze, the nearness of him making it nigh impossible to think clearly. “What are we doing?” you asked, voice trembling along with the rest of your body.

Dave’s lips curved into the faintest smile, yet his eyes remained steely. “Something we probably shouldn’t,” he admitted, his voice a deep rasp barely louder than a rumbling whisper. “But I don’t know how to – don’t want to – stop.”

Neither did you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was equal parts hesitant and fervent. The dam finally broke after months of increasing tension and building feelings.

His hands cupped your face, grounding you as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing lightly against yours and his broad form blocking any view of what you were doing from the girls. You melted into him, your hands roaming the solid warmth of his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his sweater.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. But, damn, was it intense. It was deliberate as if Dave wanted to memorize every detail of the way your lips moved against his, the faint hitch in your breath, the way your fingers trembled slightly as they fisted in his sweater. He moved you backward along the counter into the hallway until you both stood in front of the door to the basement, never breaking the dizzying kiss.

He tasted of mint and something so uniquely him when you licked into his mouth. The flavor had you melting against his body.

When Dave finally pulled back, you followed, lips eager to continue. He rested his forehead against yours, staring into each other’s eyes with a level of intimacy you never experienced before. Both of you were breathing heavily, the charged silence between you broken only by the hum of the dishwasher and the girls’ laughter in the background.

“This is crazy,” you murmured, though you made zero effort to step away.

“It is,” Dave agreed, his solemn voice rough but steady. “But it doesn’t change how I feel. How I can see you feel about me.”

Heart thundering in your chest, his words sinking in with a weight you weren’t sure you were ready to carry… yet you couldn’t, wouldn’t disagree.

“What do we do now?” you asked with a barely audible voice, dazed eyes darting back and forth between his own.

Shifting you slightly to the side, he opened the basement door and turned his head toward the living room. “Girls! We are going to do some work in my office. Stay here and finish the movie, we’ll be back up in a bit.”

“Okay Daddy!” Alice called out before quickly laughing at something that happened onscreen.

You stared at him in wide-eyed shock. What was happening?

“Come on,” he said, chuckling softly at your expression before taking your hand to lead you down the stairs.

He wanted to take you to your bed instead of his office as he told the girls, but Dave knew you had no guarantee of the time or privacy needed for what he wanted to do to you, for what you deserved for your first time together. So, he bypassed your bedroom with nary a glance, leading you into his office.

His dark eyes searched yours, pupils growing larger by the second as he closed the door behind him, turning the lock with a subtle ‘click’.

“So, this is the mysterious, private office of David York,” you snarked, attempting to downplay your nerves as you glanced around the room.

A large mahogany desk occupied one wall upon which two large monitors and a laptop sat. A worn leather loveseat backed up to another wall. A large gun locker, safe, and file cabinet were placed along the wall opposite the door. There were no windows and just one exit.

“I wondered what you were hiding in here.”

Dave watched as your fingers ran along the metal of the gun locker. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere safe to keep records and weapons without nosy little fingers touching things they shouldn’t.”

Your hand snapped back as if stung and he chuckled. You wanted to see the arsenal in that cabinet, imagining weapons of all types, but you didn’t pry. Not this time. You sighed, wondering what came next. Picking up on your hesitancy, Dave took your hands in his.

“I need you to know something.”

You swallowed thickly, curious and hopeful yet fearing what he was about to tell you, and merely nodded for him to continue.

“I didn’t plan this,” he began, quiet but firm. “I didn’t plan to feel this way about you. But I do and I don’t want to stop.”

Your heart raced as his words sank in. Opening your mouth to respond, Dave continued before you could utter a word.

“This thing between us – it’s not going to be easy. You know that, right?” Again, you nodded, and he added, “There are things… I haven’t always been a good man and there are things I can’t, won’t tell you. If you don’t want this or decide at any point that you don’t want to continue, you’ll have to be the one to end it, understand? I won’t be able to.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. The world narrowed to just the two of you, alone in his basement office, and everything else – the doubts, fears, complications, his marriage to your mother, all of it – faded into the ether. Something a lot like that four-letter word you knew it was too early to acknowledge or give voice to fluttered in your tummy like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I won’t be able to, either,” you admitted breathlessly, the admission causing an almost feral look to cross Dave’s face before he pounced.

With quick, desperate movements, his hands slithered around your wide hips, pulling you with him as he fell backward to sit on the leather loveseat. Strong hands guided you to straddle his lap, thighs snug against him as the hardness of him pressed against the crux of you. The feeling was divine.

“I wish we had time for more than this,” Dave murmured against your lips as he kissed you soundly. “But with the girls upstairs and your mom due home at any time, we can’t risk it. Not if I want to take my time with you.”

It was the truth, and you knew it. However, it didn’t stop the wave of disappointment from washing over you. Fighting to keep it from showing on your face, you ducked your head into Dave’s neck where you pressed open-mouth kisses against his salty skin.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make each other feel good, Firecracker,” he insisted, catching on to your disappointment. “We’ll just have to keep our clothes on and be quick about it, is all.” His fingers digging into your hips, Dave ground you down against his cock, the jeans doing little to hide just how hard he was, how hard you made him.

The fullness of him pressed against you just right, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. “Ahhhh, Dave,” the sound slipped from your lips like music to Dave’s ears.

“Like that?” he purred in your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Making me feel like a fucking teenager again, dry humping like this. Use me, Firecracker. Make yourself feel good.”

Dave’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to caress your breasts as you moved your hips against him. Muted mewls and moans filled the air in the room as you ground yourself against him, the layers of clothing doing little to dampen the pleasure as your clit rubbed along the seam of his jeans and the hardness beneath it.

It didn’t take long for you to approach the edge with Dave’s fingers plucking and twisting your nipples, his mouth alternating between nipping at your neck and licking into your mouth, the hard press of him rubbing against you deliciously.

“Does that feel good?” he questioned, his hands moving to grip your ass after one more sharp tug at your nipples. “Are you going to come for me? You’re so wet I can feel you through all these layers between us.”

Dave was right, you were drenched and only getting wetter as your orgasm approached at breakneck speed.

“Come on, my little Firecracker. Come all over me. Make me go upstairs with a visible wet spot on my jeans and have to change.”

The thought of him walking past your mom with the essence of you staining the front of his pants sent you plummeting over the edge, coming with strangled moans as you fought to keep quiet lest the girls hear something.

“That’s it,” Dave encouraged, his hands on your ass guiding you to move against him faster, harder. He gazed at you with blown pupils. “You’re so beautiful when you come for me. I love the feel of your juicy ass in my hands as you move on top of me.”

“Dave!” you cried breathlessly against his mouth as his hips jolted upward and you felt the hard pulses of his cock beneath you as he came in his pants with a growl.

“You just made me come in my fucking pants, you vixen,” he said once you both caught your breath again. His voice held more teasing than bite and you chortled giddily.

“That’s fucking hot,” you replied, sitting back on his thighs to get a glimpse of the mess you made together.

“Think so?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” you admitted emphatically. “No one’s ever done that for me, so it’s extra special.”

“I’m glad I could be of service then,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like having firsts with you.”

The sudden slamming of the front door followed by the clacking of heels on the wood flooring sounded above you. The two of you froze, staring wide-eyed at each other.

“Shit.” The bubble burst with the knowledge that your mom arrived home and you slid from Dave’s lap. “You should probably get upstairs before she comes down here looking for you.”

“Yeah,” Dave sighed, staring at the mess staining his lap before standing. He tugged his sweater down fruitlessly, the material too short to cover much. Giving up, he flashed you a bashful smile. “Not sure how I’m going to explain this if she sees me.”

You shrugged. “Just tell her to mind her own damn business,” you retorted, spinning on your heels to go take a shower.

Dave stood watching you longingly for a moment before deciding to make a run for it. He could hear Lisa talking to the girls, the sharp pitch of her voice carrying down to the basement, and knew he could sneak out to the garage and then into the laundry room to change really quick.

The rest of the day was a bit awkward, neither you nor Dave was sure how to act around one another in front of your mom and the girls, trying your best to act as you normally would. Everything felt exaggerated after your moments together that morning. So, you focused mostly on the girls and Ranger, playing fetch and chasing each other around in the chilly backyard while Dave stayed inside with your mom, talking about work, holiday preparations, and other trivial matters.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from gazing at you during lulls in the conversation, longing to be out there with you and his girls, but he didn’t want to push his luck with Lisa. She was up his ass enough already; he didn’t want to give her more reason to nag him.

The next day, Dave entered the café, careful eyes scanning the room until he spotted Roger and Anna seated at a corner table, looking cozier than business associates normally do. Roger’s grin was as smug as ever, but Anna’s expression was sharp, her green eyes assessing Dave as he approached.

“You’re late,” she said smoothly, her tone edging more toward playful than accusatory. “It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

Dave blithely ignored her comment, sliding into the seat across from her. “Traffic,” he replied curtly, his tone betraying no emotion.

Roger leaned back in his chair, swirling the coffee in his cup. “You’re lucky Anna was so insistent about moving this meeting up. There’s been movement.”

Dave’s jaw tightened, yet his expression remained neutral. Movement was good, but he mustn’t let his eagerness to bring this op to a close show. He had to play this carefully to maintain his cover. “What’s the latest?”

Anna leaned forward, her red-painted nails tapping against the table as they inched closer and closer to where Dave’s forearm rested. “We’ve made progress. My counterparts have vetted you and like what they saw. The deal with our…” she glanced at Roger before continuing, “mutual friend is moving along nicely.”

“Mutual friend,” Dave repeated, his tone skeptical. “You mean the military asset you’ve been dangling like a carrot? The one you refuse to tell me anything about?”

Anna’s predatory smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Patience, handsome. All will be revealed in good time.”

Roger chuckled, clearly enjoying the building tension between his new friends. “She’s right, York. You don’t rush these things. Especially when you’re the new man on the team.”

Dave’s gaze flicked to Roger, barely contained irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He knew he was walking the knife’s edge, yet still he pushed. He needed to establish that he was not fucking around. “And what exactly are we waiting for? Another week of vague updates? For one of the agencies to catch onto what we’re doing?”

Anna’s green eyes glinted with amusement, but her tone turned icy. “Careful, Dave. Impatience can get you killed. Or worse, caught.”

The tension at the table turned palpable, but Roger cut through it with a lazy smile. “Relax, York. We’re all on the same team here, working towards the same goal. Isn’t that right, doll?”

She didn’t respond immediately, clearly unamused with Roger’s nickname, her gaze remaining locked on Dave. Finally, she leaned back, a devilish smile gracing her painted lips. “Of course. We all want the same thing.”

A chill ran down Dave’s spine, his mind racing with possibilities as he forced a tight smile. They – or at least Anna – were clearly holding something back, and he needed to figure out what it was. Fast.

As the conversation shifted to logistics for their next meeting, Anna checked her calendar as Roger rattled off dates and times, Dave’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, his focus remaining on the business at the table, even as growing unease oozed in his chest.

The meeting ended with Anna brushing her hand over Dave’s arm as they stood to leave. “Until next time, Handsome,” she purred, her gaze lingering on his before darting down with a satisfied smirk as if assessing his bulge. He wasn’t the least bit hard, but he was a shower, not a grower, and he knew it looked impressive. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but Roger ushered her away.

Dave waited until she and Roger were out of sight before pulling his phone from his pocket and heading for his SUV. The message sent blood rushing south as he raced home.

After the exhilarating time spent together in Dave’s office, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You were distracted all day Sunday while he was out – a work meeting that couldn’t be avoided, or so he told your mom. You took the girls and Ranger to the park for something to do, staring at your phone while they played.

You must have typed out six different messages, deleting each one before settling on a sexy photo you took of yourself in bed yesterday morning. You wanted to have something to commemorate the first night you and Dave spent together and a photo of you in a barely-there tank top, hardened nipples peeking through, bedhead, and a sleepy smile the morning after was the perfect way to do it. You couldn’t wait to see how Dave reacted to being sent such a pic.

The delay in his response made you regret sending it though. Chewing your nails down to the quick, your eyes darted between where the girls played and your phone, willing Dave to respond. Just when your nerves were at their peak, the message status changed to ‘read’, then dots appeared as he – finally – typed a response.

Dave: Don’t tease me, Firecracker

You: I’m not teasing I’m giving you a preview

Dave: Oh?

You: You know where to find me when you’re ready

Shoving your phone in your pocket with a satisfied smile, you called out to the girls and Ranger. It was time to go home.

Once the girls were home and settled, you slipped off to your room to pamper yourself. You took a long, relaxing bath with the lights off and a lavender-scented candle burning. You plucked and shaved all the necessary bits, exfoliated, and moisturized until your skin gleamed. Night settled over the house by the time you went back upstairs to heat leftovers for dinner.

Your mom went out with some friends, Dave informed you before putting the girls to bed leaving Ranger to watch over them, his eyes communicating what his words didn’t say. Tonight, he was yours.

You ate quickly, knowing you’d need the fuel, and cleaned up before heading down to your room to wait for Dave to join you. Part of you couldn’t believe what was about to happen. The other part of you dithered over your clothing.

You had on an oversized tee shirt and a robe, no bra or panties. Not exactly the sexiest attire for your first time with Dave, you thought.

If the goal was to get naked, you wondered how much clothing mattered.

There was an element of sophistication to Dave. Would he prefer you in some sexy negligee?

A sudden idea struck you and you darted up the stairs to the laundry room to grab one of Dave’s dress shirts before rushing back down to your room. You just finished buttoning the shirt where you could when Dave came down the stairs.

The startled yet appreciative look in those big brown eyes told you the shirt was the right choice.

“Fuck,” he breathed, stepping slowly into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him, just in case. “You look fucking gorgeous in my shirt.”

Neither of you could stand it anymore, the heat between you growing too overwhelming to fight or hold off. You crashed together in a clash of lips and teeth, tongues tangling as you licked into each other’s mouths like it was your last meal.

“Do you have any idea how often I’ve thought of you… of doing this with you?” Dave’s raspy voice rumbled against your neck as he peppered the sensitive skin with open-mouth kisses.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” you admitted breathlessly. “I, uh, even touched myself to the thoughts.”

A fire blazed in those dark eyes as he growled, “Tell me.”

Powerless against him, you did just that. Telling him about the very first time, how you knew your fingers would never compare to his, how you imagined he would touch you with equal parts softness and unbridled need, how you thought he would rip your orgasm from you with fierce, single-minded determination, how you would beg for it to never, ever end. But you didn’t mention anything about watching him in the hot tub. You weren’t sure why.

Dave’s mouth roamed your body as you spoke, tugging layers of clothing off both of you as he went. When you were both naked, soft heated skin pressed against slightly rougher heated skin, you added, “Another time, I used my bullet vibrator as I imagined going down on you. I came to the phantom feeling of the weight of your cock on my tongue, the pulsing of it as you came down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ, Firecracker,” he groaned, pressing his hips down more firmly against yours. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you teased, drawing a rumbling laugh from deep within Dave’s chest. “No, we cannot,” he agreed, slithering down the length of your body, large hands squeezing your wide hips and thick thighs as he went, delighted that he finally gets to touch you like this.

“Let me show you what I’ve thought about, my sexy Firecracker.” He looked up at you with a boyish grin, hair flopping down over his forehead when he settled with your thighs over his shoulders. “I need to know how you taste.”

Words failed you as Dave tipped his face down, dark eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe through your folds with the flat of his pink tongue. Holy fuck. You never saw anything so fucking sexy as this man staring at you from between your thighs while he feasted on your pussy.

Lifting his head ever so slightly, he moaned. “I’ve imagined this so many times, wondering what you’d taste like.” Another lick, a little suckle on your nub. “My imagination is nothing compared to the real thing. You are fucking delectable.”

Dave ate pussy with the same intensity he maintained during missions – single-minded focus, expert precision, and refusing to stop until the objectives were met. You came three fucking times on his tongue, his fingers providing an assist for the last one. Bordering on overstimulation, your eyes watered, and tear tracks ran down your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Aftershocks were still rolling through you as Dave slithered up your body to kiss you, his chin glistening with your juices. His tongue dipped into your mouth, feeding you the taste of yourself mixed with his unique taste and you moaned softly against his lips.

Your palms glided down the smooth muscles of his shoulders and back, grabbing handfuls of his ass to press the full weight of him against you as the kiss continued. You loved the feeling of his broad chest pressed against your breasts, his hands gripping your hips and caressing your face. When you snaked one hand between your bodies to feel the thickness of his cock, Dave pulled back.

“No, sweetheart. I’m too worked up. This will be over before it starts if you touch me right now,” he admitted in a raspy, stuttering voice. “I want to come in your pretty little pussy the first time, ok?”

Overwhelmed with need, you nodded, and Dave grinned down at you. “Cock drunk already, are you?”

Swatting at him, you whined, “I just need to feel you. Please, Dave.”

He paused, staring down at you. “Do you… should I wear a condom?”

“No. I want to feel all of you. I’m clean and on birth control, I promise.” You pawed at him, trying in vain to pull him onto, into you fully.

“Me, too,” Dave admitted, sinking into you, finally.

Ohhh. You could barely breathe as he fed you his cock, the sheer size of him taking your breath away. There was a slight pinch of pain at first, your body out of practice when it came to penetration, but the way Dave moved against you, inside you, had you moaning in no time.

“That’s it. There’s my little Firecracker,” he encouraged you when your moans increased. “It’s ok, you don’t have to be too quiet.”

“Dave,” you drew out his name in a long mewl, fingertips clawing at his back when he hit that spongy spot inside you. “Fuck. I didn’t know it could be this good.”

He kissed your face – forehead, cheeks, and the tip of your nose – before smiling down at you with glazed eyes. “It’s all you, baby. You feel so good like you were made for this cock. I could live here, inside this tight fucking pussy for the rest of my life.”

Dave continued thrusting his hips in the perfect rhythm, occasionally grinding his thumb down against your clit as the wave of pleasure began to crest. He talked you through it with debauched praise, letting you know how good you made him feel, how he never wanted this to end. You came first, crying out his name like a siren song until his thrusts stuttered and his cock pulsed, filling you with ropes of cum as he moaned your name in your ear.

Afterward, you cuddled together – it still surprised you how much Dave liked to cuddle with you – talking and chuckling in low voices, enjoying the private moment. Eventually, Dave cleaned you and himself up before going upstairs for a snack. Your mom came home, tipsy from a night out, and Dave helped her up the stairs to bed before telling her he had work to do in his office.

When he reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Dave veered towards your room and climbed back into bed with you, curling his body around yours. He was right where he wanted to be.

tbc

Chapter Seven

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Part 3 if it's all over please i loved it

A/n: please no more it’s all over I don’t know where to go with it anymore 😩 /hj

Warnings: There’s smut I think I wrote most of this months ago and don’t remember any of it I NEEDED TO FINISH IT AN GET IT OUT OF MY DRAFTS

Part 1 Part 2

You never should've let him stay, it was a mistake to not hang up on him right away, to even let him into your house in the first place.

You woke up laying on top of him, nuzzled comfortably into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around you. You were both naked and you could feel him still stretching you out, limp cock shoved deep inside of you.

"Morning, sweetheart." He grumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Good sleep?" You groaned softly, your body hurt to much to get up but you had to get to work so you forced yourself to sit up on him. "Where're you going so soon?" He asked, looking up at you with a small pout.

"Work, I have to get ready." You mumbled.

Nikki's hands came to your hips, holding you in place on top of him. "Don't get up, come on."

You let out a heavy sigh and took his hands off of you so you could get up. Your face turned a deep shade of red when you felt his cum literally oozing out of you.

You remembered him having something of a possessive kink and needing to claim you but this was fully him trying his best to get you pregnant, and all you could do was watch as his cum dripped out of you while he lay next to you, smiling at the sight.

He reached out and gather his cum, the drips he could going down your thighs, and pushed it back into you. A shiver ran up your spine and you gasped, it wasn't the same stretch as his dick but it hit that same spot as he curled his fingers.

"Sto-stop, I can't- I can't take it anymore, Nikki, please, I-I have to go!" You pleaded, weakly pushing at his hand. He scoffed and reluctantly pulled his hand away from you, licking himself off his fingers.

You quickly got out of bed, not taking any time to watch Nikki's tongue lapping at the thick, white liquid, how filthy he looked sucking on his fingers and the way he looked your naked body up and down as more of his cum gooped out of you...

Maybe you spared a glance, but that was it, and it was more than enough. You couldn't keep Nikki here.

You showered, cringing while you tried to get the rest of him out of you, you'd get plan B on your way to work.

You were massaging shampoo into your hair when you heard Nikki trying to get in. "Y/n? Let me in." He said, twisting and turning the locked knob. "Open the fucking door and let me in." He was desperately trying to keep his words calm and unthreatening. "Please?" He asked, you could just hear the pout in his voice. "I just wanna see you, you're so pretty and soft... please?"

You couldn't let him in, if you let him in he'd want to stay.

You stepped out of the shower and opened the door for him.

Surprisingly, he didn't rush in. He waited for you to get back into the shower before he walked in and he went straight to the counter, after pushing the curtain aside so he could get a good view of you.

He was still naked, hard cock sitting in his hand. "Give me a spin." He ordered. "And bend over."

"No, you're gonna get in behind me." You grumbled, focusing on getting clean.

He laughed and shrugged. "You know me, don't you?" He let out a heavy breath, rubbing his tip. "Unfortunately, I know you just as well, sweetheart." That made you pause, but he didn't move. He stayed where he was, on the counter, jerking off to you showering. "Can you at least touch yourself? You look pretty when you touch yourself."

You huffed. "You used to say I looked pretty when I loved you." You started washing the shampoo out of your hair. "Unfortunately, I don't love you anymore."

Nikki stared at you blankly until the shampoo was all rinsed from your hair. "You know how to ruin everything, don't you?" He grumbled, getting up and leaving. You heard his footsteps around and a door close, assuming it was the bedroom.

It was cold taking a shower with the door open and curtain pulled to the side but you didn't trust Nikki enough to change anything, keeping things how he set them was safer. You hoped.

You finished washing yourself and got out of the shower, heading back to the bedroom and finding Nikki spread out on the bed, still naked. He held a pair of your lingerie in either of his hands, holding one to his nose and mouth while the other he used to stroke himself.

You tried to ignore him but he looked so good, just like he always did. Strong frame, broad shoulders, those tattoos. He was a football player and a musician and you wanted him inside you, but you couldn't let those thoughts win. You got dressed and headed out.

Nikki, thankfully, didn't stop you, but he made sure you heard him cumming, and he tossed your now dirty panties in front of you on the floor. He swore to himself that he'd get you pregnant this time, you'd carry his child and he'd get to watch your belly swell up with his seed. This time.

You were sitting in your car in the driveway, just about to start driving off, when the door opened and Nikki came out in just his boxers. You could see he was hard again, it was stretching his boxers and making you wet.

You drove off without another thought, other than your mind drifting back to Nikki the whole drive, but you had work to do and you had to focus on that when you got to your office.

Nikki couldn't let you stay away from him for too long, obviously, so he made his way down to your work when he knew you'd get off.

He saw the lights on, the figure next to you, how that man dared to touch your arm. Just in the lobby, just out of reach, how could you do this to him?

Hee watched from just outside, he walked from your house. It wasn’t a long walk but it had started raining about halfway, and now he stood, wet and alone, watching a man flirt with you just feet away.

You laughed, tilting your head as you did so. You caught a glimpse of Nikki’s silhouette just outside before he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Fuck.” You muttered, smile quickly fading.

[egcdeath]

just what the doctor ordered - chapter 2

pairing: harvey (sdv) x reader

summary: as a successful lawyer in the city, you’re almost certain that nothing can throw you for a loop. that is, until a visit to your sister’s farm brings you to the small town’s doctor. 

chapter summary: you have your first feast of the winter star in the valley. it’s not at all what you expect it to be.

words: 8.9k

warnings: IDIOTS to lovers, slow burn, yearning, fluff, lots of nerves, your sister is kinda an annoying younger sibling, mentions of drinking/being drunk, no use of y/n, harvey AND you are bad at feelings, trivia night, almost a ‘there was only one bed’ moment, lots of love life meddling, cursing, feast of the winter star celebrations

author’s note: i hope you enjoy the Grade A yearning in this chapter!

previous chapter | next chapter

You weren’t sure what exactly you expected when you decided to visit your sister in Stardew Valley for the holiday, but it certainly wasn’t this. In fact, if you’d known that you would be dragging your suitcase and feet through inches of snow just to attempt to get from the train station to her farmhouse, you probably would’ve just stayed home. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you huffed as the two of you approached a vacant-looking spa. You’d barely made it twenty paces away from the train station and your luggage was already soaked and getting more and more difficult to push with every step you took. “Does no one in this place drive a car? Do you have a tractor? A bike? A scooter? I mean, I’ll literally take anything at this point.”

“Okay, Ms. Walkable Cities. This community is walkable. I thought you liked that!”

“I like them when there isn’t snow up to my shins to walk through! Trust me when I say that this,” you gestured to the snow around you, “is not walkable.”

“Fine,” she was clearly fed up with your complaining, but who wouldn’t be? “The mayor has a truck and he owes me a favor. I’ll just ask him to pick us up.”

You shivered as she dialed, hugging your thick coat to yourself and hoping that whoever came to pick you up did so swiftly. That, or death from hypothermia would take you out quickly. Whichever came more expeditiously and relieved you from the neverending suffering that was bitter cold.

“Hey Lewis. I just need a quick favor… No, you definitely owe me one. Remember the-... Yeah, any way I could borrow the truck?… Oh. Oh… Wait, who has it?…. Oh! Well, thanks for letting me know,” your sister hung up on him but remained on her phone, seemingly dialing another number with a newfound smile on her face. 

You weren’t so sure what she was so pleased about. “So he’s not coming? Are you getting us an Uber, or something? Do they have those out here?” you were growing impatient with your situation and would do just about anything to be somewhere with heat and without snow on the ground. 

“Please. Shh,” she hushed you before lifting her phone to her ear once more. You were unsatisfied with this non-answer. 

“Hey! I heard you have Lewis’ truck right now. Any way that you could help me out and give me a ride back to the farm? I think standing out in the cold is giving me a cold…” she forced a cough before continuing. “Ugh, amazing. You’re the best. I’m by the train station, over by the spa… Okay, five minutes. Sounds good. Thanks!”

Your sister looked oddly smug as she put her phone back into her pocket. “Now you owe me one too.”

“Can we just say that I’ve repaid my debt in taking the fall for the billions of broken vases in our childhood? Or all the bottles I donated to your underage wine nights?”

“Fine,” she conceded, clearly more fed up with your incessant complaining than anything else.

“Who’s picking us up?” you asked, as if you really knew anyone in the first place. 

“Oh, you don’t know him.”

You sighed and shook your head. As if the cold temperature and the sensory nightmare of wet pants from the snow weren’t enough, now your sister was cryptically answering your questions. “Okay.”

When the truck pulled up, you were shocked to find none other than Dr. Harvey himself manning the vehicle. So much for not knowing who the driver was. So much for not meddling in each other’s love lives. Although, you supposed that this was accidental. Somehow, you just knew that you would be hearing the word ‘fate’ all weekend. 

Before you could even approach the backseat, your sister took it upon herself to launch herself into the back of the truck, giving you no other option but to sit beside Harvey in the front. 

You took your time throwing your luggage in the bed of the trunk, doing your best to mentally hype yourself up for the encounter. You’d stared down hundreds of men far more intimidating than Harvey in settings far more nerve wracking than the passenger seat of a car. Logically, you knew there was nothing to be concerned about, but in practice, you couldn’t help but feel a massive pit in your stomach. Why was it so debilitating for you to have a little crush? You barely even knew the guy. 

Hesitantly, you opened the door to the vehicle and did your best to avoid eye contact as you sat down in the seat next to the man. You scolded yourself internally for acting so out of character already. “Thanks for picking us up.”

There. That was neutral enough and inoffensive enough that it didn’t give any indication that your heart was currently beating like a hummingbird’s after eight shots of espresso. Not that you should be feeling that way anyway, when your only interaction with him was of him doing his job. Distantly, you wondered how many of his clients had developed crushes on him after a particularly emotionally-loaded physical or minor injury. You tried not to get too carried away, but you couldn’t help but imagine someone waiting for him back in the Valley bringing him a flirty cup of coffee in the morning and batting their lashes incessantly waiting for him to notice their beauty. 

“No problem at all. I had no idea you were coming to town,” He seemed genuinely excited to see you, your imaginary townsperson with long, luscious lashes and great coffee taste be damned. It wasn’t lost on you that he skipped right past your smug sibling in the backseat to talk with you. “How’s the hand?”

“Fully recovered,” you lifted your hand to illustrate your words. You wondered if he noticed your freshly manicured nails as he briefly glanced at your hands, before fixing his eyes on the windshield once more. Man, was he focused on getting you two home safely. There was something so attractive about a responsible driver. You scolded yourself once more on how easy it was for you to swoon over ridiculous things when you had a crush. 

“That’s what I like to hear. What brings you to town?” Despite the fact that his vision was trained ahead of you, you were sure that he would feel your eyes watching him if you admired his side profile a bit too hard, so you decided to force your gaze away—turning to watch the slowly moving scenery and attempting to calm your climbing nerves. 

“Oh, just visiting to celebrate the holiday. We usually spend it at my place, but I thought it might be fun to switch it up this year. The Winter Star festivities in the city can get a little repetitive.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted to visit the Zuzu Holiday Market. It seems like a lot of fun,” Harvey responded.

“It is fun, don’t get me wrong, but there are only so many times that you can drink extra chocolatey hot chocolate and go ice skating ‘til your sister vomits in a bush before you get bored,” you laughed as you recalled the event, though you were mortified at the time.

“Are you serious? That was one time! And I had food poisoning!” your sibling finally spoke up. 

You did little to hide your amusement. Since she got you into this predicament in the first place, the least you could do was embarrass her a little bit too. 

“Anyway, you’re free to stay with me if you’d ever like to go,” you paused, wondering if your words were too suggestive or overly friendly for someone you’d only met once. “I also know a few good hotels nearby, so…”

It wasn’t the best save, but it was certainly better than nothing. 

“That’s so kind of you to offer! I don’t know if I’ll be going any time soon, but I appreciate it.” You cringed internally as he spoke, knowing you shouldn’t have been so overzealous. You reminded yourself that you had only met once before this point, and it was in a fully professional capacity, but in the corner of your eye, you caught Harvey looking at you for a split second and… was he blushing?

Though you’d only made it to square one-and-a-quarter, with one little glance, you were suddenly back at square one, butterflies dancing in your stomach and heat crawling up your neck.

“Well, it’s the least I can do after you fixed my hand,” you laughed awkwardly, once again rendered useless by your feelings. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as both of you attempted to gather yourselves and you began to fantasize about melting into the passenger seat of the truck. Somehow, the goopy puddle of yourself would be less embarrassing than you now.

“Anyway, we’re going to trivia tonight,” your sister interjected, clearly fed up with getting second hand embarrassment from you. “Are you coming too?”

“I was kinda on the fence. I need to do a few things to prepare for flu season and-” Harvey began to explain before being abruptly cut off.

“Oh, come on, Harvo. The town isn’t gonna collapse if you take one night off. Besides, it’s a tradition to do Winter Star Eve trivia! We missed you last year. Although, Maru and I still kicked ass.”

Harvey looked to your sister in the rearview mirror, then to you, then back at the road. “Alright, I’ll come. But only because I need to see if you and Maru are who you claim to be.”

“I knew you had it in you. Cold and flu season can wait,” she seemed oddly satisfied with herself in the same way she seemed a little proud of herself after she got off the phone with Harvey. You couldn’t help but feel like the woman had something up her sleeve.

You somehow made it through the rest of the short drive without embarrassing yourself too badly, though you might’ve been slightly too enthusiastic as you thanked Harvey for the ride and bid him farewell. As if you hadn’t had enough humiliation for one lifetime in the span of ten minutes, your sister felt no need to give you any sort of break.

“That was an accident, by the way. But… Harvey’s been asking me about you,” your sister wasted no time addressing the elephant in the room as the two of you dragged your luggage up to where you’d be staying. Part of you wanted to whack her with your suitcase. The other part of you wanted to ask for more information–to hear every single detail about what he said and how he said it. Did he blush as he asked? Did he look really interested? Did he say anything about wanting to see you again?

None of those questions made it past your lips. “Shut up,” was all you could respond with as your cheeks heated up enough to melt the snowy ground outside.

“I’m serious! Whenever I stop by the clinic he asks me what you’re up to, how your health is, how you’re healing from your injury,” she went on as she walked you to your room. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just small talk,” you dismissed as you sat down on the foot of the bed which had been neatly made in anticipation of your arrival. Deep down, you hoped that him asking about you meant something. Realistically, you knew he was just being a considerate friend.

“Eh, you should hear the way he says it. Like you hung the moon and he’s asking for updates on the moon,” she lingered in the doorway, watching you collapse flat on your back.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you spoke up to the ceiling. It almost felt like if she saw your face, she might be able to read your mind. Not like that would make much difference anyway, as she already saw straight through you and your little crush on the doctor. 

“Whatever,” she somehow made the one word sound like the most exasperated expression ever uttered. You almost wanted to tell her that she sounded like your mother. “The point is, he liked you a lot too. One might even argue that you’re always on his mind.”

“Who said I liked him a lot?” you could feel her skeptical look without even seeing it. 

“Whatever,” she repeated, this time sounding even more fed up. “He liked you a lot, even if it’s completely unreciprocated. We personally think that you two would be cute together.”

“You got that from one interaction you watched? And who is this we?” you asked, though you already had a pretty good idea of who was making up this other mythical person. 

“That’s my cue to leave,” she sidestepped into the hallway. “Be ready to go by seven. And don’t fight fate!” she sing-songed as she disappeared further into the house.

You sighed hard enough to shake the foundations of the building you were in. 

The two of you made it to the saloon early enough to get a booth, your sister looking at the door every few minutes as she very obviously waited for your guests to arrive. She asked you a few questions about how your life was going, but her heart clearly wasn’t really in it. Finally, Maru walked through the door and it was like a switch flicked in her. She was filled with enthusiasm as she waved the other woman down, a toothy grin plastered on her face. The enthusiasm seemed very mutual, as Maru couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face as she excitedly talked to your sister about the techy project she was working on. 

Though you didn’t particularly mind observing your sibling act like a lovesick puppy, you didn’t have to third wheel for too long, as shortly after Maru sat down, Harvey joined you at the table. As if you were playing Whac-A-Mole, his arrival prompted your sister to get up, announce she was going to get everyone drinks, and leave. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to leave, as the only thing keeping you feeling somewhat normal in Harvey’s presence was the comfort blanket of other people.

You watched as she talked to the bartender for a particularly long stretch of time, before returning to your booth looking like the cat who caught the cream. For the second time that day, you were struck with the feeling that she had meddled somewhere she knew she shouldn’t have.

“Everything okay?” you asked though you were almost scared to know what she had up her sleeve. 

“Mhm. I’ve just never seen someone so proud to ask for wine at a tavern,” she replied as she distributed your drinks, shamelessly taking a dig at Harvey. Neither Harvey nor Maru seemed particularly phased by the words. If anything, it looked like Maru was holding back a giggle. 

“Is it not your wine?” Harvey asked once she passed him he received his glass. 

“It is. That doesn’t make it any less uncouth,” she replied.

“Just be happy he’s supporting your small, local business,” you chimed in before taking a sip of your own drink. It was much stronger than you expected. Something told you that for the evening you were about to have, you might need that.

Before you could give your sister more shit, the man behind the bar began to make an announcement. 

“Thank you all for coming out tonight. At the request of some of our guests, we’ll only be doing duos trivia tonight. We’ll get started in a bit,” his voice was loud and easily reverberated through the bar, only to be met with a few murmurs and groans from the townspeople at the thought of splitting up their carefully curated team. 

Surely, this was not what your sister was scheming with the bartender to do. After all, she included the idea of doing trivia together as one of the many benefits of spending your Winter Star celebration in Stardew Valley. You looked at the woman in question, who was pointedly making an effort not to look back at you. You’d seen enough guilty people in your lifetime to know when you were looking at one–and you most certainly were. 

“Team sisters vs. team doctors?” you suggested, partially to confirm your suspicions, partially to see if you could get out of an evening of embarrassment with Harvey. As you should’ve anticipated, your sister immediately shot the offer down.

“No, I think Maru and I are gonna work together. Right?” she continued to avoid eye contact with both you and Harvey, deciding to look at her partner in crime instead.

“That works with me,” the two of them shared a knowing stare. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being left out of some sort of inside joke. You glanced at Harvey to see if he was in on it too, but he looked just as deer-in-headlights as you were sure you did. 

“Bye, old-timers,” your sister bade you farewell as she and Maru quickly got out of the booth and easily found somewhere new to sit. 

“Old timers?” Harvey sputtered. “Thirties is not old!”

You laughed at his indignance. At the very least, your laughter helped to keep some of the nerves that were quickly creeping in at bay.  “You see what I have to put up with? She’s been like this forever.”

“I can only imagine what you two put your parents through,” Harvey laughed right along with you. You wondered if he was feeling even a fraction of the nerves that you currently were. 

“To this day, our family dinners are always a little intense,” you replied, trying to ignore the vision that arose of Harvey being at one of those very family dinners. Would he argue like the rest of you? Or would he sit quietly, only entering the conversation when someone said something particularly shady towards you? Something told you he would do more of the latter than the former. Not that he would ever end up with your family in the first place.

The two of you wordlessly sipped your drinks, the silence awkward and almost unbearable. After a series of awkward, chemistry-less dates, you’d forgotten how socially clumsy having a crush made you feel. Usually, small talk came easy to you—in fact, you could probably speak uninterrupted for a whole hour if given the chance, but when it came to socializing with the man in front of you, you struggled. 

“So, you already know why I’m here, but what brought you here?” you finally spoke up, opting to look down at your drink rather than at the man across the table from you. If only your boss could see you now–you were sure you’d be fired in a heartbeat. But you didn’t want to be a hotshot attorney around Harvey, you just wanted to be… you. And if that meant you were an awkward pool of nerves around him, then so be it. 

“I mean, you were there. Your sister invited me,” he looked slightly confused by your question. 

“No, I mean,” you laughed, feeling even more of the tension in your body melt away with the action. “What brought you to the valley?”

“Oh,” the man in front of you looked more like a tomato than a human. At least you had some confirmation that you weren’t the only one feeling incredibly awkward. “Sorry. I tried out the city for a bit, went to school there, did my residency there, but it was… a lot. I wanted to settle somewhere a little more quiet, so…”

“So you picked the most quiet place possible?” you finished his sentence for him. 

“Well, yeah. I guess I did. It wasn’t fully on purpose, but I saw a job posting that said the previous owner was set to retire, and the timing just worked out well. I finished up my residency, came here and shadowed her for a few months, and the rest is history.”

“But you like it here?” you asked, finally making eye contact with the man—which proved to be a mistake, as the butterflies in your stomach took that as their cue to take flight. 

“I do. I feel like I get to know my patients a lot better than if I were a doctor elsewhere. Although, it feels like most people here view me as only the doctor and nothing else. I’m sure it’s similar for you, being an attorney.”

“I can’t exactly say I relate. A lot of our clients are corporations, and despite what the government might say, they are very much not people. But it definitely comes with its own set of issues. There’s a level of anonymity you get being in the city. I’m sure you remember. It’s oddly… lonely? Sometimes. I almost wonder if I’d feel it less if I lived somewhere like this.”

“Would you?” he paused to take a sip of his drink. As he lifted it up to his mouth, you noticed the slight shake of his hands. If you weren’t sure before that he was nervous, you were absolutely certain now. That had to be a good sign, right? Unless he was anxious about being left alone with someone like you, who obviously had a crush on him and was doing a terrible job at concealing it. The thought of making Harvey uncomfortable immediately made you nauseous. 

“Hmm?” you were so lost in your thoughts that you could barely process his words.

“Would you ever live in a place like this?” he clarified.

You glanced around the buzzing bar, watching friends double over with laughter as they talked, and patrons who were surely regulars giving the bartenders a hard time. There was no doubt that the Valley was charming, with its picturesque landscape and interesting inhabitants. You thought about your sister, who easily made a life for herself there in only a matter of years, then yourself, who spent what felt like a lifetime making the version of your life that you always thought you wanted. You felt a lump grow in your throat. 

“I don’t know. I think I’d get bored. It doesn’t really seem like anyone here needs legal assistance, so I don’t know what I’d be doing all day other than twirling my thumbs and bothering my sister.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” on his face, you read what almost looked like disappointment. Maybe you were just projecting onto him, but more than anything, it seemed like he just needed a friend. It had to be difficult to only be seen as just your career, not as a whole person. Maybe that was why he’d taken such a liking to you right off the bat, if your sister’s words had any credence. 

“I guess I could follow her footsteps and be a farmer. But I’d really be no good at it. I mean, you saw how that worked out for me,” you openly referenced your accident with the jar.

Your conversation was interrupted by a blue-haired woman dropping off a white board and marker at your table. 

“Good luck!” she said enthusiastically, her gaze lingering on you for an extra moment. You guessed you shouldn’t be so shocked that the town was intrigued by outsiders when they probably had very few visitors. 

At any rate, you were slightly thankful that her interruption gave you an opportunity to take the conversation in a different direction. You didn’t exactly want to dump all of your problems on Harvey during your first non-work related outing. 

“Are you any good at trivia?” you asked once you finished off your drink. 

“I’m alright,” he shrugged. “I enjoy reading and learning in general, so I’d like to think that I know some stuff.”

“Good, because I’m absolutely useless,” you flashed him a smile, working some of that courtroom charm. Internally, you reprimanded yourself for not being yourself, but it was sometimes easier to put on a mask of confidence, than to be your boring, true self.

“I doubt that,” he reassured you. You tried to ignore the way that he consistently spoke so highly of you made you feel. You weren’t sure why or how someone who knew you so little was so willing to compliment you.

“Oh trust me, you’ll see.”

The first few questions weren’t too bad, with most groups having the correct answer on their shared white board. With Harvey as your scribe—his penmanship surprisingly legible for a doctor—the two of you quickly made your way up the leaderboard. 

Though you both knew a good share of the answers, there was something about the way Harvey looked at you after you answered a particularly difficult question that left the rest of the room stumped. In fact, he looked at you like there wasn’t a single other soul in the room. It both excited and terrified you. While you couldn’t pinpoint the exact way it made you feel, the one thing that you were sure about was wanting to climb over the table and kiss him until your lips went numb. But maybe that was just the two extra glasses of wine speaking–although you weren’t totally sure it was.

As the game came to a close, your score was tied with two other groups. It was just your luck that the final question was one about an obscure television program that just happened to be one of your favorites growing up. You leaned across the table to whisper the answer in Harvey’s ear, paranoid that another group might overhear, but finding yourself feeling mildly intoxicated by your proximity to him. You barely kept your composure enough to not let on to the burning feeling deep inside of you. 

You watched nervously as Harvey lifted the whiteboard with your answer, and somehow, you two managed to be the only team to get it right. The man behind the bar announced the two of you as the winners, leading you to cheer amongst the collective groan in the tavern. 

“How did you know that?” he asked in awe, green eyes practically sparkling at you. You recalled what your sister said about him earlier, and how he spoke about you like you hung the moon. Right now, he was looking at you as if you’d done just that. 

“I don’t know, I just did,” you shrugged and laughed, doing your best to push down the butterflies that were aggressively flapping their wings in your stomach. 

“I can’t believe you tried to tell me you’re bad at this! You’re amazing! Is there anything you can’t do?” he began to gush, and you couldn’t lie, the way he was speaking about you was definitely doing something for you. 

“Oh please. You should see me attempt anything that requires any sort of hand-eye coordination,” you dismissed, though you were quite pleased with his praise. 

“I don’t believe you,” he laughed, clearly feeling more loose from the few glasses of wine you shared. “I don’t believe you at all. You’re just trying to be humble. I mean, smart, beautiful, charismatic... What don’t you have? No wonder you would wanna understate your talents.”

Did he just call you beautiful?

The two of you seemed to have this realization at the same time, both of your brows shooting up in surprise as the tomato made a return for what must’ve been the third time that night. 

“I’m sorry, I-“

Your lips were loose with alcohol, which became abundantly clear as you spoke. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re not too hard on the eyes either. In fact, when we were in the clinic and my heart was racing, it was because-”

“Hey!” your sister announced her presence with her booming voice. From the one word and the way she was leaning on Maru, you could tell that the two of them certainly had more to drink than you and Harvey. “I declare foul play. I wanna rematch.”

“I don’t think you’re in any state for a rematch,” you commented as you took in her slightly disheveled appearance. 

“Whatever, cheaters,” you giggled at the vitriol in her voice. “Oh please. This is not a laughing matter.”

“I think that means it’s time to go home?” you suggested. 

Your sister sat down next to you in the booth. “It means the opposite, actually. The night’s just beginning!”

“Speak for yourself, I’m going home,” Maru yawned and stretched her arms to portray just how tired she was.

“Let me walk you home,” Harvey offered, ever the kind-hearted man. In a split second, you wrote a narrative in your head that he wanted to stay and talk to you until the sun came up, but prioritized the safety of his friend and co-worker. You couldn’t think of one person you’d seen in the past three years who would do the same. As quickly as the thought came up, you reminded yourself that you and Harvey were not seeing each other. In fact, you were basically still strangers. Strangers who complimented each other’s appearance after winning the town’s trivia night.

Moments after the two of them left, you suggested to your sister that the two of you follow suit. It seemed like most people were on their way out, and you didn’t want to draw any more attention to yourself by being labeled: The Sister from the City Who Stays Out Way Too Long.

Luckily, your sister was on the same page for the most part, before she had a sudden realization, “Wait, I need to walk Maru home first.”

“Harvey’s walking her back already,” you reminded her, but that did little to stop her from shooting up from the booth and heading right out of the tavern. You quietly cursed to yourself as you grabbed your belongings and ran after your sister.

Much to your chagrin, when you stepped outside, you discovered your sister chasing after a set of footsteps imprinted in freshly fallen snow. You sighed and followed her briskly, not pleased by the snow landing on your skin and the flashbacks of trying to collect your high schooler sibling after she called you begging to stay the night at your apartment, claiming that your parents would kill her if they found out she snuck out.

After even more cursing under your breath, you finally caught up with your sister, who was absolutely delighted to now be walking with her friends. 

“Oh Maru, I thought you were gone for good,” she blubbered as she hugged her tightly. “Never do that to me again.”

What she was requesting she never do again, you weren’t quite sure. 

“Never again,” she promised, embracing your sister securely. It was surprisingly earnest, despite the fact that you had absolutely no idea what the two of them were on about.

You looked at Harvey, whose foggy glasses prevented you from fully reading his expression. You would have to ask him about this later. 

After all of the theatrics, Maru made it home safely, with the two women embracing once more on her doorstep. Now, you’d had your fair share of drunken, overenthusiastic platonic affection, and from your reading of the situation, this was nothing of the sort. You looked to Harvey again to see if he was seeing this too, and he looked almost as puzzled as you. 

The two finally broke apart once Maru announced that she was cold and going inside, leaving you to trek all the way back to your farm. That, you were not all that excited about. 

“Now that she mentioned it, I’m cold too,” your sister stated. It seemed like the alcohol coat only lasted so long before the fact that she left her actual coat in the saloon caught up to her. While in any other situation you would’ve grabbed it for her, you were far more focused on actually catching your sibling on the run than checking what she did or didn’t leave behind. Besides, it was a small town. Surely, the owner of the tavern would have it safely inside for her. He might even throw it in the washer and dryer for her, leaving it folded and clean for when she picked it up.

“I’m honestly surprised that you lasted this long without it,” you chuckled as you slipped your coat off your own shoulders and onto hers, hoping that your hefty sweater would be sufficient enough to keep you warm on your way back home. You only made it a few steps in the direction you were going before you realized that would unfortunately not be the case.

Your sister spoke up yet again, somehow even more chatty drunk than she was sober. “Can we just stay in the clinic? It’s so much closer. And there are beds,” she seemed to be asking you more than she was asking Harvey, which confused you a little bit—but you simply added that to the long list of things that left you slightly confused that night. 

You didn’t dwell on it for too long, as it turned out that you were absolutely freezing without a coat. In fact, your teeth were beginning to chatter. Luckily for you, the game of Musical Coats continued when the doctor standing next to you offered his own coat to you. 

You didn’t even have to say a word and he noticed.

You looked over at Harvey as if to say, “Seriously?” and he smiled and nodded back to you. You tried your best not to swoon too hard, though every interaction with him was making that more and more of an uphill battle. You attempted to write it off as a considerate doctor looking out for someone who might get sick from the cold, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“That’s fine with me. The clinic’s not too far from us,” he explained to you as you snuggled into his blue overcoat. It was still quite warm from his body heat and smelled exactly like the cologne you’d gotten a whiff of during your exam. You wanted no more than to drown in the masculine scent. 

It didn’t take too much more trudging to get to his place, and after Harvey unlocked the door to the clinic, your sister wasted no time disappearing into an exam room and making herself right at home on a cot. 

“Thanks for letting us stay the night. I had no clue she was just gonna invite us to your place like this,” you attempted to apologize. As you looked up at Harvey, the difference in your heights caught you a bit off guard. You would have to store that information in your mind for a later date. 

“It’s not a problem at all. I told you, you’re welcome any time here. The beds are just around the corner to your right, if you’d like to lay down too,” he explained as he turned the lights to the clinic on. 

“You know, I’m not all that tired,” you weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, other than trying to extend your time with Harvey. You were emboldened by the evening you’d had, feeling far less unsure about the feelings of the man in front of you than you did just a few hours ago. 

“Oh? I can walk you to the farm, if you want,” he offered, looking at you very sweetly.

He was so kind and so clueless. You were pretty sure that you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you—but you were getting way ahead of yourself there. 

“No, you’ve already done more than enough for us tonight,” you glanced at the coat you were still donning as if to remind him of his sweet gesture. You did your best to allow him to take control of the situation, not wanting to impede further on him than you already had. 

“Hmm. Could I interest you in a cup of coffee? It’s decaf, but-“

“Absolutely,” you wasted no time answering.

That was how you ended up in Harvey’s apartment, nosily looking through the decor in the room as you attempted to put the pieces together of who he really was when he wasn’t working with patients.

“What’s this?” you asked as you bent over the display, careful not to touch anything and possibly mess something up.

“Oh, um… these are some model planes I built… do you like them?” he asked, the nerves in his voice not at all lost on you. 

“These are cool as hell,” you affirmed, sitting down at the desk and leaning over so you could get a closer look. You pointed at a contraption with a pair of bulky headphones attached to it. “What’s this?”

“Oh, it’s kinda like a radio, but for flights. You can talk to pilots through it,” Harvey explained, using the hand not occupied by mugs of coffee to pull over a chair. 

“Can I try it?” you asked, unsure of what possessed you to do so. 

“I can’t guarantee we’ll make contact with anyone, but of course.”

He gently sat the headphones on your head, careful not to mess with your hair, and began to fidget with the radio until static stopped coming through the device. 

“Are you sure your true calling in life wasn’t to be a pilot?” you asked jokingly, gazing at him with as much adoration as he gave you at the saloon. He was simply too cute with his hobby he knew so much about and his inebriating proximity to you. 

“It kinda was, before I realized that the world isn’t always supposed to be blurry and that I have a crippling fear of heights,” he responded, still focused on the device in front of him and not on you.

“Oh no! Are you serious?” you frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke about something that-“

“Please don’t feel bad. You couldn’t have known. Besides, I still found a way to enjoy it,” he looked at you again, a soft twinkle in his eye despite discussing something that couldn’t have been pleasant to experience.

You took the headphone set off and softly set it back down on the table. 

“And if I never became a doctor, I never would’ve come to this town, or met you-or uh, any of the other great people here.”

Your expression softened. He was sitting so close to you, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch his pink cheek before pulling him in for a-

“I’m glad you were still able to find work that was meaningful for you,” you looked at him and a strand of curled hair in his face that you desperately wanted to push back. “You know, I used to want to be a baker more than anything else in the world.”

“What happened?” Harvey asked, looking at you a little anxiously–although, you couldn’t be too sure that it wasn’t just his default expression. 

“Nothing too tragic. I just realized how unrealistic it all was. The good thing for me was that I was booksmart and liked to argue, so I had that to fall back on. I just settle for sending my friends a loaf of bread, or leaving anonymous cookies in the office every now and then.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that. I know I wouldn’t mind some surprise sourdough every now and then.”

“Next time I come to town, I’ll bring you some,” you promised. 

“If it’s not too much of a hassle, I would love that,” he smiled softly at you. Were you crazy, or had the two of you leaned in closer and closer since your conversation began?

You yawned, catching yourself by surprise. Running on the fuel of adrenaline that you got from being around the first man in a long time to make you feel anything, you hadn’t realized just how tired you were. 

“My offer still stands to walk you home,” Harvey reiterated before leaning back in his chair. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just sleep on one of the cots,” you insisted, though the thought of getting poor sleep on a stiff, sterilized cot seemed extraordinarily unappealing.

“They’re really uncomfortable,” he commented, looking down at his model planes and not at you. 

“I mean, if you want me to go home, I can go home,” you offered, though the rejection slightly stung, especially after the night the two of you just had. 

“No! I meant, you can sleep in my bed,” his eyes met yours, then were pulled back to the table. “If you’d like.”

“Oh!” your cheeks heated, as did the man across from you.

“I’m so sorry, I meant, you can have my bed. I’ll just sleep on my couch tonight.”

“Oh,” you laughed at the misunderstanding, though you certainly wouldn’t have minded sharing a bed with Harvey in any capacity. “Are you sure?”

“No worries at all.”

After declining an offer to borrow some of his pajamas (your heart could only handle so much in one evening), you settled in Harvey’s bed, impressed by how soft the mattress was. You were grateful that the lights were off and that he was on the other side of the room, as you wasted no time grabbing one of his pillows and inhaling deeply. Unsurprisingly, it smelled just like him, and it quickly lulled you right to sleep. 

In the morning, you woke up to the familiar scent of more coffee and the sound of your sister and Harvey conversing in the nearby kitchen. You sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, squinting as you looked into the room to confirm what you thought you’d heard and smelled. The two of them stood in the kitchen, alternating between washing dishes and sipping something from mugs. They must’ve had breakfast while you slept. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” your sister announced as soon as she caught sight of you and your bed-head. “You look like you slept well.”

“What can I say? This is a very comfortable mattress,” you leaned over the side of the bed to gather a few of your belongings. 

“Would you like to stay for breakfast? We made you a plate,” Harvey offered kindly. You felt your heart bang against your ribcage as you recalled your evening, and you worried that the organ might actually explode in your chest. 

“Thank you, but I’m not super hungry,” you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up with a slight urgency. “Well, thanks for letting us stay over, Harvey. We’ll see you tonight.”

“Harvey told me all about the night you two had,” your sister boasted, clearly trying to get you to admit to something that didn’t happen. 

This was a familiar song and dance to you. For the longest time, your younger sibling was a master at manipulation, getting you to confess to things you didn’t do to cover her ass or make her look better to your family. That was before you went to law school. Now, your days of being manipulated were far in the past.

“So he must’ve told you how his back hurt from sleeping on the couch last night,” you easily retorted, not falling for her antics. 

“You made him sleep on the couch? That’s cold. Even for you,” she sucked her teeth to emphasize her facetious disappointment in you. 

“He offered to sleep there, thank you very much,” you corrected, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of annoyance at the friendly interrogation. It had been so long since you felt anything real for someone romantically, and you didn’t want your connection to be reduced to just a punchline for your sister to tease you with.

“Are you kidding? Have you never picked up a romance novel? That’s when you’re supposed to offer that you share the bed anyway and wake up cuddling.”

“Do you hear yourself? My life is not a corny, pulp fiction romance novel.” At this point, your annoyance now began to fully boil over. Maybe it was misplaced anger at yourself for falling for someone so easily, or frustration over the antics your sister put you through the night prior. Regardless of the cause, the outcome was the same. 

“I’m starting to really question if you even like this guy,” If your sister caught on to your genuine annoyance, she clearly didn’t show it as she continued with her joke. “You shouldn’t lead him on. He’s a sensitive guy, you know?”

“Okay, seriously, enough. I don’t want to talk about this right now with you,” your tone was stern and serious, a far cry from the one your sibling equipped.

“Sorry,” she looked and sounded genuinely remorseful, with guilt quickly taking over her features. “I’m so hungover right now,” she deflected, as if that would absolve her of her sins. You’d never seen anything more encapsulating of her behavior as your younger sibling. 

“Do you remember me having to chase you down in the cold?” you asked, partially to shame her, partially to change the subject.

“Unfortunately, yes,” she kicked a pile of snow. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” you sighed, figuring that maybe you reacted out of proportion for reasons unbeknownst to her. Usually, the two of you were fine with banter, even when it dealt with touchier subjects. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

You both knew you weren’t just referring to her whiskey-fueled shenanigans. 

“I won’t,” she promised, looking a little bit like the guilty kid who took an extra cookie out of the jar and blamed it on you all over again. “Happy Feast of the Winter Star?” she offered.

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star,” you replied, pulling her in for a side hug. You could never stay mad at her for too long–not when she made you take the fall for her bad behavior as children, and not when she poked fun at your love life now.

There was only so much tagging along with your sister as she made small talk with the people in her town that you could do before you found yourself feeling a terrible combination of awkward, uncomfortable, and unwelcome. Luckily for you, your sister picked up on this rather quickly and suggested that you take a seat where you’d be sitting for the actual feast.

You watched with envy as your sister mingled with the townspeople. It was never particularly pleasant to be singled out, but you would’ve preferred if you weren’t the only person easily labeled an outsider and excluded from the gathering. You wished you were back in your warm apartment, a cinnamon-scented candle wafting into the air as you decorated your tree and watched Winter Star movies from your peripheral vision. Instead, you were left feeling like the awkward, brace-faced girl you were in your adolescence. 

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star,” the words stated behind you caught your attention. After you turned, you were unsurprised to find the voice belonged to Harvey and that he had taken a seat next to you. 

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star to you, too,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound as pleased as you truly were to see him.

“Did you come here alone?” he sounded genuinely concerned as he asked, as if the mere concept of you celebrating the holiday alone was unacceptable.

“No, my sister and I came together. She was just doing her rounds talking to everyone and I just needed a second to be on my own,” you explained, figuring if anyone would understand needing a break to recharge on your own, it would be Harvey.

“Oh, then I could leave, if you’d like,” he offered. Was he always this polite and considerate of everyone else’s feelings?”

“No, you’re perfectly fine,” you assured him. “It’s always nice chatting with you. Have you exchanged gifts with your person yet?”

“Yeah, Pierre got me a new stethoscope. This might be my fourth new, gifted stethoscope I’ve been gifted since moving here,” he lamented. “Sorry, not to sound ungrateful. Did you get anything?”

You frowned at Harvey’s words. You had an idea that the people in the town struggled to see him as anything other than the town's doctor, but having several separate people all get you the same stereotypical medical gift had to hurt. Distantly, you promised yourself that if you came back next year, you would get him a far better gift. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being disappointed about that,” you affirmed, reaching out to place what you hoped to be a comforting hand on his arm. “My sister and I are swapping gifts tonight. Do you have any idea who she got? She wouldn’t tell me. Not like I know anyone here.”

“I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions,” he pointedly looked over to where she was talking enthusiastically with Maru and a man who almost looked related to her. 

“Oh my,” you laughed aloud. “Do you think there’s anything going on with Maru and my sister? I mean, after last night I’m almost certain she has a thing for her. Are they seeing each other?” you questioned.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing. Not to be nosy, but it is a small town and people talk,” he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice as if someone might overhear and do the very same gossiping that the two of you were partaking in now. 

“Tell me more,” you matched his motion by leaning in, excited to finally have the information your sister was depriving you of. 

“Well, at first your sister came by all the time because she genuinely needed medical assistance. I don’t mean to freak you out or anything, but she spent a lot of her first year here passing out. Sometimes from exhaustion, sometimes from fighting things off in the mines. I mean, she pays the clinic more than probably everyone else in this town combined.”

“Seriously? What could she possibly be doing?”

“She’s never told me. Maybe she’s told Maru? That’s the thing. She started coming for medical assistance, then I wasn’t sure if she was getting hurt on purpose just to see Maru. Whenever they’re together it’s all laughs and smiles. You know, one time she woke up after being in the mines, saw me, then asked where Maru was. When I said she had the day off, she declared she was fine and left.”

“Wow. I want to be shocked, but knowing her, it doesn’t seem all that far fetched,” you pulled your gaze away from the two of them to look back at Harvey. “So are they together?”

“I couldn’t tell you. Every time I bring it up to either of them, it’s like they’ve taken an oath of silence.”

“So what’s your diagnosis, Doctor? If you had to guess.”

“If I had to guess? Based on the serious, grade A yearning I’ve observed and the sheer amount of flirting they do in the clinic, I would say they are absolutely lovesick. I’ve never seen two people more infatuated with each other and in denial about it.”

“Hmm…” you hummed as you thought. “I guess I’m glad that she’s got friends here. I’m less glad that her social skills haven’t improved since she was a middle schooler.” you paused once more. “What if we set them up together?”

The words you’d said to your sister the last time you came to visit reverberated in your head. Something about not interfering with each other’s love lives anymore. A counterargument immediately came to mind–your sister already forfeited this agreement when she decided to pull that little stunt at the Saloon. Not that you were particularly mad at it, but the game seemed to already be afoot. It was only fair that you got to play, too. 

“I mean, a friendly nudge couldn’t hurt…” he trailed off. 

“And that’s really all they need,” you agreed. “I would love to help you with this operation, but I don’t see me being very useful with this while I’m in the city.”

Harvey thought for a moment, then seemingly hesitated before he spoke. “Why don’t we exchange numbers? That way we can brainstorm and I can keep you updated if I find anything else out about their status.”

You couldn’t exactly say that was what you were expecting to hear from him, but you certainly couldn’t say that you were mad about his offer either. In fact, getting his number was probably one of the best outcomes you could’ve hoped to accomplish the entire trip–outside of bonding and spending quality time with your sibling. 

You took his device and entered your contact information, feeling like you were on a cloud higher than cloud nine.  

For the rest of the feast, you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. You could chalk it up to the collective joy of the community as a young girl set the star-shaped topper on the tree, or the laughter that bounced around the table throughout the meal, but deep down, you knew what it really was. For so long, you’d been happy with your life, but missing and craving one thing—and you finally felt like you had some semblance of a shot at getting it. 

Despite all the less-than-ideal temperatures and the histrionics of your sister after a few drinks, you found that you weren’t so mad that you came to spend the holiday in Stardew Valley after all.

[k1ttycrush]

Happy Lily Evans Day

A little fic in honor of lily’s birthday <3

Platonic moonflower, and also a tad bit of wolfstar. On the side, as a treat. Cuz I’m greedy LOL

Not beta read, we die like literally everybody in this fucking fandom

word count: 2,449

“It’s almost Lily Evans day men..” James said sternly to his friends.

Peter looked up from the muggle magazine he had borrowed from Sirius. “Lily Evans day?”

“He’s obviously talking about Lily’s birthday, Wormy.” Sirius rolled his eyes. he looked to James again from his spot on their shared floor, cocking his eyebrow suspiciously. “Prongs, what could you possibly be plotting now?”

“Ah yes, my dear Pads… we must come up with something amazing.” James said as he paced back in forth in their little dorm room. “Something…spectacular. Something that would truly blow her socks off.”

“Um…why?”

“Why!” James suddenly exclaimed at Sirius. “Well it’s Lily Evans day, Padfoot! This day only comes once a year!”

“Have you gone mad James?! Do you not remember the last times we tried to give her something?!?”

James snorted. “I’m only mad for Lily Evans. Padfoot you have to understand… I have a feeling, a hunch you might call it, that this is the year. this is the year she will finally come around, I know it!”

Sirius spared a suffering look at Remus, giving the boy a little shrug. Remus only smiled an easy smile back.

“Oh! We could give her some flowers!” Peter chimed in.

“We tried that in 4th year, remember Wormy? James replied solemnly, before throwing himself down on Sirius’ bed. “She burned them and then threw them at my feet!”

Peter suddenly had a little pink tint of embarrassment to his cheeks.

“Oh, I know!” Sirius said. “How about we enchant all the portraits to sing ‘Happy Birthday’! Like we did at Christmas!”

Remus snorted, not looking away from his book “That would never work.” He muttered, mostly to himself.

Sirius scoffed. “Well then, Moony. What do you think we should do?”

Remus rose to the challenge, though unexpected. “Well, someone like her wouldn’t approve of something as outlandish and obnoxious as portraits constantly singing. She likes things that are more thoughtful, and contrary to popular belief, gifting her lillies because her name is Lily is not very thoughtful.” He said casually, nose stuck in his book. “Her favorite color is red, she loves to bake. And also her favorite band is Fleetwood Mac.”

The room was suddenly very silent. Remus quickly looked up from his book in confusion, just to be met by the gaping faces of his three friends.

A small, embarrassed, blush began to creep up his neck. “What?” He asked. “Did I say something?”

“…how do you know that?” James replied in disbelief as he sat up from his place in Sirius’ bed.

“Oh, we study sometimes. For…transfiguration.” He looked around. “Oh will you stop the staring! It’s creeping me out!”

That seemed to snap his friends out of it.

“Well, would you look at that. Watch out, Prongs. Moony here is coming for your girl.” Sirius laughed.

James only moaned as he buried his face into a pillow. “Pads! Don’t joke about something like that. I’d be torn if one of my best mates got with the actual love of my life.”

But Sirius only laughed harder.

“Wait…guys.” Peter suddenly said. “I have an idea!”

The room quieted again.

“Well, Wormy, let’s hear it.”

#

The nearly grown boys struggled to fit under the invisibility cloak as they awkwardly shuffled down the empty hallway to the painting with the pear that led to the kitchens.

“Hey, watch my foot Padfoot!”

“Me?! That was Wormtail.”

“I could’ve sworn that was you though!”

“Well it wasn’t Prongs!”

“Guys!” Remus whispered irritably. “Shut. Up. A prefects coming.”

The boys quieted immediately, letting the prefect pass by. His badge twinkled under the shine of the light from his wand.

It was the two nights before January 30th—Lily’s birthday. The Marauders were on edge, eager to put their plan into action. And today, they were enacting the first step.

A couple more steps landing them infront of the painting. Remus stuck his hand out to tickle the right pear, and the painting swung open as the pear blushed and giggled with delight.

“Ah, it always smells amazing in here. Isn’t that right lads.” Sirius exclaimed as the boys walked out from under the protection of the invisibility cloak. The kitchen did indeed smell amazing, all sorts of spices and foods and odors wafted through the air.

They were soon met by what felt like a little army of house elves flocking to them.

“Visitors!”

“Students!”

“Hello there!”

“Hullo!”

“Would you like something to eat? Like some fruit?”

“Hello students!”

“Some sandwiches, perhaps?”

James let out a little laugh of shock. He sheepishly held out his hands as the crowd gathered at his waist. “Uh, hello everyone. I was wondering if you could bake a cake. See, it’s for a very special girl, so we need to cake to be very special.” He stuck out a little note with the flavors, icing, and any other details they wrote down.

The house elves seemed to immediately light up with delight, happy to be of service.

“Oh most certainly!”

“Right away!”

“Yes, we shall make an amazing cake!”

“Yes, yes!”

“Here, have some cheese and crackers while you wait!” One said, quickly shoving a platter full of various types of crackers, meats, and cheese into Remus’ hands. Remus let out a shocked laugh.

The crowd of chattering house elves quickly dissolved. James couldn’t even get a “thank you” out before they were already busily measuring flour and eggs and sugar into bowls.

Sirius let out a little laugh as he plucked a piece of cheese and a cracker from the tray. “They sure do like us, eh Prongs?” He popped them into his mouth.

“I’m sure it’s because we drop by so often,” Peter said. “Gives em’ something to do.”

“Oh, I’m sure house elves have hobbies other than cooking or cleaning.” James said thoughtfully as the group crossed to a little set of chairs surrounding a table by the wall.

“Maybe running errands.” Sirius replied with a snort as he nibbled on another cracker. “What say you, Moony?”

Remus set down the platter onto the table, throwing a piece of cheese into his mouth casually. “Oh, what would I know about the comings and goings of house elves?”

“I mean, you always have your nose in a book, you ought to know something.”

Remus just shrugged as Sirius smiled that easy-going smile. All pearly teeth and delicate lips and daring edges. Very pretty.

Remus quickly looked away.

Just then, a ding! sounded, and a beautifully decorated cake plopped itself onto the table they waited at. Remus positively salivated at the delicate swirls and patterns in the one-layered cake.

Oh yeah, this plan would definitely work.

#

The night before the big day, as Remus laid curled up in his soft bed, he thought of tommorow.

He’d never thought to do something for Lily’s birthday until James had brought it up, what would that say about him? Maybe he needed to be a better friend, he’d say. He supposed he doesn’t think of Lily much as just a study partner, but as a friend. A valued one, at that.

Remus began to drift off to sleep when suddenly he heard a pale hand softly tap twice on the board of the bed. Remus jumped in surprise.

He instantly grabbed for his wand under his pillow, flinging the curtains that surrounded his bed. He instinctively stuck the wand under the chin of whoever stood outside.

“Merlin’s sagging fucking nuts Moony!”

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, he was met with Sirius holding his hands up in surrender. His hair and clothes were slightly tousled, as if he spent all night rolling in his bed. His head was backed as far from Remus’ wand could get it.

Remus let out a sigh of relief and annoyance. Of course it was just Sirius. “Get your arse in here, Black.” He mumbled drowsily. Sirius just grinned and climbed into his bed, muttering a silencing charm under his breath.

Remus rubbed at his eyes as Sirius got comfortable.

“So…” Sirius began.

“So.” Remus replied, his voice husky from sleep. Sirius subtly straightened up a bit. He let out a quick breath.

“Uh- um-“ Sirius spluttered. “Uh. I just wanted to say… ahem… thank you. For helping us a lot.” He said as he fiddled awkwardly with his hands.

Remus suddenly felt like he was talking to someone different entirely. Sirius wasn’t awkward. He wasn’t nervous, he was Sirius. Beautiful and dazzling. Always radiating that unimpeachable air of confidence.

A bloody star that attracted anything close enough with its undeniable gravity.

“Why are you nervous?” Remus asked. His voice was still husky. Sirius quickly looked down at his hands in his lap.

“I…I dunno. Just couldn’t sleep, wanted to, uh, see you.”

Remus’ mouth formed a little ‘oh.’ There was a little fluttering in his chest. He awkwardly scooted over a little bit, patting at his side. He looked away.

Sirius looked up, his eyebrows shooting up ever so slightly. Before crawling over and settling next to him.

The two sat in silence for a little while, looking up into the ceiling. It was when Remus’ eyes began to feel heavy when Sirius broke the silence.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked softly, sleepily. Remus’ ears tingled delightfully.

Remus swallowed nervously. “Nothing much. You?”

“Just tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Just…thank you, Remus. For your help.” He whispered. “This means so much to James, he really does love her. And I care for the idiot. If she’s what’s going to make him happy, then so be it. We really couldn’t have done it without..y’know. You.”

Remus turned his head to face Sirius. His eyes strained to see him in the darkness, but he could make out his silhouette. He felt his breath hitch, ever so slightly. Sirius turned his head to look at him.

“I’m- I-“ Remus whispered. “I care for him too. You’re welcome.”

Sirius nodded at him slightly, before sitting up and taking his wand in his hand. Remus watched him crawl over his bed and through the curtains, whispering an incantation.

When Remus thought Sirius was gone, the curtains cracked open again.

“Goodnight Moony.”

Remus couldn’t help a little smile as he got comfortable in his bed.

“Goodnight Pads.”

#

Lily was on high alert.

Today, she was on her guard. It was her birthday, and she knew the those damn Marauders were up to something. Between James’ unrelenting affection for her, and his friends’ willingness to go with everything he says, it is safe to say that she has been on the lookout for any signs of tomfoolery or strangeness.

Mary approached her as she walked to her next class. Lily cracked a small smile at her friend, whose face was split in a wide, happy grin.

“Hi Mary!” She greeted.

Mary let out a little giggle. “Hi Lils. Happy Lily Evans day to you, birthday girl.” She said, nudging her playfully.

“Hey! Stop that!” Lily laughed. Mary continued nudging her, until suddenly, they were approached by someone.

Lily recognized her to be Violet from Potions, her black hair hung over her shoulder in a plait.

“Happy Lily Evans day!”

Mary smiled at her. “Happy Lily Evans day!”

Meanwhile, Lily, was confused. Utterly stumped.

“Uh, thanks?” She said, unsure. As Violet rushed past her to get to her class, Lilly turned to Mary.

“Uh hey Mary?”

“What’s up?”

“Um…what is with this Lily Evans Day thing?”

Mary just smirked knowingly. “Oh, you mean you haven’t heard?”

Lily cluelessly looked around the hallway of students, and that’s when she finally caught on.

Students of all ages were wishing each other a Happy Lilly Evans Day. She whipped her head around in disbelief. She took everything in, realization settling in.

For the rest of her walk to DADA, she had only one thought in her mind.

Those damn marauders!

#

Lily dreaded dinner. So much so that she was genuinely considering eating in her dorm. She was undoubtedly sure that those Marauders would be up to something more embarrassing and annoying than the last. After what feels like twenty wishes for her to have a “Happy Lily Evans day!” she was at her limit. They even charmed. the calendars they had written on to play a Fleetwood Mac song whenever she tried to erase it!

How was that even possible?!

As she entered the Great Hall through the giant doors, she was displeased to see that the entire room immediately erupted into applause. Whistles and yelps of “Happy Birthday Lily!” stuck out from the crowd.

She waved shyly at them all, and they cheered louder. She couldn’t help a shocked little giggle of surprise as she rushed to her seat next to her group and all the students resumed to their conversations and eating.

On the table in front of her seat, however, was a cake.

It was breathtaking. A red single layered cake with elegant swirls along the sides sat before her. A large fake Lily flower laid across the top, under it was a message written in a delicate, spirally, cursive, with white icing.

Happy Birthday Lily! It said.

And in the center was a little, pink candle. Flickering with a light on the tip.

She looked around her at Mary and Marlene sat on each of her side.

“Did…did you guys do this? For me?!” She gasped.

“Hmm…I dunno. Did we?” Mary said, looking to the table where those damn Marauders sat.

There he sat, James Potter and his friends with Lillies scattered in their hair. James grinned at her giddily, and she blew him a kiss. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her when the smile left his face, replaced by a look of shock as he turned to Sirius, shaking him and pointing at her. Sirius just cackled.

Her eyes caught onto Remus, though. And everything clicked.

Little sneak. She thought.

Lily quirked her eyebrow at him, asking him a silent question. But he just smiled smugly and looked away, bringing his glass of pumpkin juice to his lips.

“Well?” Marlene said giddily. “Make a wish!”

Lily pulled her eyes back to her beautiful cake with icing of her favorite color. And she thought of what to ask for.

When she made up her mind, she screwed her eyes shut and wished with all her might as she blew out the pink candle on her cake.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad, she admitted reluctantly to herself. Of course she would never say this out, but she supposed she couldn’t hate James Potter forever.

[puppppppppy]

who is your favorite AA character? 👁️👁️

ziska… I hope capcom brings her back someday

[tariah23]

oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’

Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.

Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.

They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.

Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?

[zaddyazula]

obviously i love strangelove’s character but she wasn’t written well… as a woman or as a lesbian…

[uchiha-gaeshi]

I would never wish growing up in a hyper religious African house on my worst enemy. The cognitive dissonance is insane especially if you grow up in the West yet your family (and other African families around you) insist on clinging on to asinine “traditions” that are really just covers for abuse.

[sammygender]

i do genuinely think s7 is decent but even if it wasn’t it’d be like crack to me considering it’s an entire season essentially centred around sam’s trauma. it’s the closest we ever get to the show properly genuinely acknowledging the things it puts him through. which is ironic considering it’s also before many many other things he goes through!

[latinokaeya]

rr is so bad with timelines and ages literally would hazel not be 14 already by the time of son of neptune. am i the crazy one here

[dyketennant]

oh i can already tell i’m about to have some really unpopular opinions about the edge of sleep tv show