#god the first time i watched it was when i was in preschool and the last time i rewatched it was in 6th grade

[reinaespina]

idk who else watched "w.i.t.c.h." as a kid, but omg i've been thinking of rewatching it after so many years. and brush up on the oc i created back then 🥹

[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[macfrog]

I miss our beloved scom family. How are they doing this fine day?

god, i miss them too. here's what they probably got up to today.

something blue 3.6k words | series masterlist warnings: y'all know the drill: being a mom.

Sarah leads Ellie, the way she always does, into the kitchen at seven a.m. sharp.

She stops by Joel first, squeezes into his size at the counter, and pushes onto her tiptoes. When he sidesteps to let her see (even though he point-blank refused to let you), she wraps two arms tight around her sister and hoists her up.

“Pancakes!” the three-year-old squeals, and loses her grip on her plastic dinosaur. He falls headfirst into the counter.

“Shh!” Sarah hisses, slinging Joel a disgruntled look. She sighs and swipes the T-Rex from his hand.

“The heck you lookin’ at me for?” he grumbles.

The girls eye you the entire walk over to the table. One as suspicious as the other. Sarah moves smooth, floats over to her spot with her chin skyward.

Ellie thumps at her heels, staring you down and almost stumbling into a chair.

“Careful, Nel,” you whisper, and her poker face cracks. You turn to Sarah. “I know it’s pancakes. It’s the only thing your dad ever figured out how not to burn.”

Joel’s shoulders jump. He swallows the laugh in his chest and says nothing.

Ellie sucks the chocolate clean from her dinosaur’s head. Last week, she decided his name was Bill. You, Joel, and Sarah are still trying to figure out where the hell she came up with it. Whoever he’s named after, she doesn’t like him much – not with the rate she lobs him around.

Kid’s an enigma. She suits it just fine.

She stares at you, still, as Sarah helps her up into her chair. Judders forward with each shove under the table. Comical, the two of them; like Pinky and the fucking Brain, you once told Joel – though you’re still not sure who’s who.

Your eyes drop to a stain on the toddler’s outfit. “You want me to wash that yet, Gagarin?”

She looks down. An arm swishes up to dab at the tangerine splotch. She grins, amused with herself, and shoves the dino back between her gums.

Sarah shakes her head. She turns back to you and flashes a trademark Joel frown. Eight years old and somehow, she manages to encapsulate the same fifty-six-year-old, unimpressed glower.

“Nel,” she turns, uttering between teeth, “You can’t wear dirty clothes today, remember?”

“I don’t think spacesuits are allowed at preschool,” you sigh as you push yourself up. “Much too sophisticated – huh, baby girl?”

Ellie giggles and flings her arms to the ceiling, sending Bill in a somersault across the table. She’s in nothing but pull-ups underneath the onesie – although it’s rare for her to ever be in much more than her pull-ups and, usually, one loose sock.

The suit means she’s feeling fancy. But what the fuck for?

All of Sarah’s leftover chaos, the magic she left in your veins after she was born, seems to have poured into her little sister. Smaller, mightier – more reckless, but not half as savvy.

Rarely seen without one of her prehistoric pals in her fist; evidence of what she had for lunch smeared around her lips. Chasing after Sarah, after Shimmer, after a butterfly that found itself trapped in her bedroom last month.

She scaled a chest of drawers trying to reach it. Joel caught her just in time. Some nights in bed, you can still feel his heart pounding from the scare she gave him.

Chalk and cheese. Sarah and Ellie. The former calm, composed. Candid and levelheaded, book smart and (alarmingly) wise beyond her years.

The latter – well.

It’s her first time on the planet, too, you try to remember.

You wander over to the washer, tossing the suit into the drum. You dig an elbow into Joel’s side and he flinches.

“Can I see yet?”

He turns, shielding whatever’s in front of him with a wide shoulder. “Not yet, baby. Not done.”

“You’re taking fuckin’ forever,” you mumble, pressing the words into his shoulder blade. From the corner of your eye, you watch the girls babbling to each other, scratching Shimmer between her floppy ears.

Joel twists, still hiding with his hands, and dots a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose. He smells like coffee and toothpaste. It still dizzies you every time he’s near enough for you to breathe it in.

“I’m almost done. Promise.”

You steal a kiss from his lips and smirk, stepping away. “Okay,” your eyes drift down to the counter, “If you say s…Alphabet sprinkles?”

His jaw slackens, moves like a bubbling fish. “Uh – they’re for – they’re for somethin’…Duck?” he clears his throat, “Tell your mom what they’re for, would ya?”

Sarah freezes. She stammers just like her dad. She does a lot just like him.

“A…a…a school project,” she says, and stares down at the dog.

“A – a – a school project?”

Your daughter nods. Still fixed on the smudges of sable around Shimmer’s eyes. “Bake sale.”

“You never told me about any bake sale,” you cross your arms, “What’d you make?”

She’s quick as lightning. “Cupcakes. But we haven’t made ‘em yet. Tonight, right, Dad?”

Joel’s voice is hoarse with panic. “Tonight,” he rasps.

You lean back against the counter, eyes shifting to the right. A different tactic. A rogue tactic, that’s for sure, but she has her moments. “…Nel?”

Your youngest looks up from her belly button.

“Not Nel,” Joel pleads, catching your eye for half a second.

“Why not Nel?”

His voice drops. “That kid would spill a state secret if you dangled a marshmallow in front of her.”

You tsk. “That’s mean. And wrong, anyways. The reason they have state secrets is ‘cause of kids like her. We should be proud, Miller.”

Ellie’s clutching the dinosaur when you look back over, chewing on his tail. She blinks back, and you wonder if there’s anything other than mastermind plans of mischief behind her eyes.

Joel says she has the same look in her eye that you do. Like you’re in on something the rest of the world has yet to catch up on. Twins, from the moment she stumbled ass over foot out of your body.

She talks just like you, and acts just like you, and – some nights, chatting sleepy gibberish under the slow turn of her rocket ship nightlight – you figure she must think just like you, too.

The perfect little riot.

Joel nudges you away, whispering, “Go on,” and you snicker, pushing off.

The sun combs through the room, glinting off cutlery and radiating from your daughters’ smiles. They chat and giggle and kick their feet; Sarah blows raspberries and Ellie sprays saliva all over the table when she tries to copy.

This is life, now.

You used to wake up to a silent house, sip your coffee and watch the oven clock count down the minutes until you had to leave for work.

You used to keep the radio on, even when you were out back – just to feel like someone was home with you. You used to sing to yourself as you flicked every light off at the end of the night.

Now, the laughter lives in the walls. It echoes even when you’re home alone. The oven clock counts down until there’s another pair of smaller hands in yours; until your man’s arms are back around your waist where they belong.

Come nightfall, you pluck odd socks and toy cars from under the couch. You tuck your children into bed, nuzzle your nose into their cheeks. You curl up beside Joel and trace shapes into his palm.

I love you, you write, some nights.

Dickhead, on others.

It takes a village, they all say. And sure, sometimes it does.

Sometimes, though, all it takes is two neighbors, a handshake deal, and a little bump named Duck.

“Woah, Nellie,” Joel chuckles, setting the first plate down. He clicks his teeth and taps a light knuckle on the girls’ hands, locked in a death grip. “Play nice. I got yours here, too, kiddo.”

Ellie straightens immediately. She watches, eyes fixed and glasslike, as her own breakfast is presented to her. And then she breaks into a wide grin, cheeks swelling. Her heels thud thud thud on the legs of her chair.

You lean over, cocking your head to see.

Two stacks of fluffy pancakes – a healthy dollop of chocolate spread on Sarah’s, and Ellie’s drizzled in golden syrup. Shards of strawberry and slices of banana scattered over the towers; blobs of whipped cream like clouds.

And on top of each, in clumsy sprinkle letters: Duckie and Nellie.

Sarah grins, two front teeth brand new and beautiful. She picks up her cutlery and raps them against the table, a nervous jitter about her.

You realize, just as her eyes flicker across yours, that she’s not beaming at her pancakes.

You realize, as he sways over to your side, that she’s beaming at him.

He’s holding two more plates. He sets his own down, a messy crater carved into the chocolate.

Your brows pull. “What happened –?”

“Bill happened,” he scoffs, shooting Ellie daggers.

She’s too busy tearing her stack apart, mixing a paste from syrup and cooked batter. There are few things the kid loves more than food and mess – and nothing she loves more than both at the same time.

She looks out of her mind happy, smothering the glossy mixture all over her cheeks, chewing in contentment.

“Like ‘em?” Joel asks, and you glance up.

“Yeah,” you laugh, eyes welling, “I love them. What’s the occasion, Miller?”

“Just…” his head wobbles as he considers it, “…we wanted to ask you somethin’.”

You turn to Sarah.

She’s still smiling, wider than you’ve ever seen. So bright that you worry she might shatter the glassware on the table.

“We?” you ask, smiling much the same.

She gives nothing away, and yet, at the same time – everything. Her knee bounces with excitement. Her breathing quickens.

“You wanna read yours?” Joel asks, tilting the plate in his hand.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you sniff, “I’m scared.”

He lowers the plate.

The letters blur in and out of focus as you blink.

Red, green, yellow, pink. The second M is an upside-down W. The Rs lean into each other, chocolate pushing from the middle of the letters. A question mark crafted from a C and half of another letter.

Your lungs jump, though you knew it was coming. Though you’ve talked about it for months, now.

Let’s just get it outta the way, make it easier for the girls when we’re older. Few forms to fill out then it’s done. We don’t gotta make a big deal of it.

Can’t afford to make a big deal of it, anyway.

Wouldn’t want to make a big deal of it.

You’ve never been one for big deals.

This is a big deal. This is a big fucking deal, Joel.

All multicolored, flecks of whipped cream on them. Silly little alphabet letters.

Marry me?

Joel kneels as you swivel around to him. He kisses your cheek, takes your hands, rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Look,” he says, voice trembling, “I know we said we wouldn’t make a big deal of it. But…you gotta let me make a big deal of it, honey. You gotta let me make a big deal of you.”

You laugh, tears spilling down the front of your shirt. Your heart is pounding, body alight with nerves or excitement or both, in one lightning bolt of feeling.

It’s everything you ever wanted, and nothing you ever expected.

“Everything I have –” Joel says, “– the kids, the house, the dog – I found it all with you. Because of you. I love you so much, and I can’t – I can’t take another minute that we’re not…”

His hands squeeze yours, and you swear you feel your pulses align. Beating together, two hearts on the same bassline.

He swipes the tears from your cheek, catches them in his palm. “…It don’t have to mean anything, I know that – but you, darlin’…you mean everything. What do you say we go do it?”

It’s the easiest thing in the world. And not just because you knew it was coming, knew to expect it soon enough.

Joel could’ve asked you the minute you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, and you reckon you would’ve said yes.

It’s easy. Loving him is so easy. Being with him is so fucking easy.

Coffee at sunrise, low volume TV in the bedroom. Skin and sheets, marks on your neck and chest and thighs. Laughter for breakfast, homework for dinner. Two bodies squeezing into one tiny shower cubicle, Joel’s hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles.

“Today,” you whisper, cupping his jaw. “I want to do it today.”

“Today?” his eyes flash over your shoulder to his daughters, “We gotta take the girls to –”

“No, we don’t,” your head shakes, “Do we have a marriage license?”

“Got it last week.”

“Then they come with. We get all dressed up, all four of us, and head down to the courthouse. We’re married by the end of the day.”

He laughs, loose and disbelieving. Shakes himself back into the room. “Today,” he repeats. “As in, right now?”

“Right now, baby.”

“Okay. Yeah, alright. Today.”

“Ask me.”

Joel’s cheeks lift. Tears disappear into his beard.

You lean forward, lining your forehead against his. “Ask me, Miller,” you whisper.

It’s no big deal. It’s a regular Wednesday. Packed lunches and dinosaurs with Nutella in their teeth.

It’s no big deal, but when he asks you, time stops.

“Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yeah, I will.”

Sarah takes forty-five minutes to apply your mascara, some powder, and a pink lip. She promises she’s being neat, and you tell her you don’t care – you’ll love it either way.

She says she knows, but she promises she is anyway.

Ellie curls up in your lap and twists your necklace around her fingers. She asks four times if her spacesuit is dry yet.

“Ellie,” Sarah warns – and you know it’s serious when she uses her sister’s real name – “You can’t wear a costume to a wedding.”

“Mama is!”

“No she ain’t! Brides are s’posed to wear white. Mama’s dress ain’t white. What you got on is fine,” she decides.

Ellie knows better than to keep arguing. She catches her heel in her hands, huffing. “Wanted to be an ass-traut.”

You catch Sarah’s eye. Don’t.

She bites her giggle.

“You are an astronaut,” you squeeze your toddler, “Our astronaut. Whether you’re in your spacesuit, or you got your big bare butt out for us all to see.”

She giggles into herself, a sound sweet enough to convince the sun to rise at dawn. Her baby teeth are small and wonky. She snorts, settles in your arms again, and watches Sarah lean in with the lipstick.

You lift your chin, holding steady. “Is Dad ready?”

She pauses, letting go of her breath. “He says he’s been ready the last half hour,” she mutters, and dabs more color on.

“Is he nervous?”

Her eyes lift. Eyelashes long and thick – black mascara that you made her pinkie swear she’d wipe clean the moment she gets home.

She smirks. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Are you?”

You press your lips together, blending the pink. “Little bit. You think that’s a good sign?”

“Mhm.”

Sarah straightens, capping the lipstick. She smiles at her masterpiece. “You look beautiful, Mama.”

“Well,” your chest fills, “I’m only beautiful ‘cause you made me that way, Duck.”

Joel’s voice sails upstairs and into the little pink room.

“Courthouse is closin’, sun’s almost down, they’re diggin’ my damn grave already. Are we good to go, or what?”

Sarah grins and leaps over an upturned toybox in the middle of her room. She pirouettes out to the landing, pursing and then smacking her lips together.

You fix Ellie’s skirt and lead her out after her sister. “’s go, Nellie.”

“Mama,” she tugs at the fabric, “I gotta…Need…need…”

“Shit,” you whisper, watching the ballerina twirl downstairs to her dad. “Uh…Duckie?”

“Hi, pretty Duck,” Joel calls, catching her in his arms. He spins her around and the skirt of her dress billows.

Her little heels click when he lets her down. She keeps on spinning, watching herself in the mirror.

“Baby?” Joel calls. “Y’all ready?”

“Nel’s gotta go!” you reply.

He scoffs. “She nervous or som’?”

“Or som’,” you sigh, walking the kid into the bathroom.

Ellie takes about as long as a three-year-old should, to be fair to her. It requires an amount of determination that right now, neither of you have the focus to lend it. Potty training doesn’t wait up, even for weddings.

Eventually, she announces with a triumphant shout that she’s done, Mama! – and claps her hands as the toilet flushes.

You carry her downstairs, heels clunking on the solid wood. At the bottom you set her free – and she sprints out to join her sister on the lawn.

The pair run circles around one another. They cartwheel on the grass; they race Shimmer and use the flowerbeds as hurdles. They dirty their dresses – ivory stained with bursts of green – though they look better that way, anyway.

They take turns playing Swingball with the only remaining racket (a mysterious disappearance that neither will own up to, and both are most certainly involved in). Sarah tells Ellie that she won – and the smaller girl throws her fists in the air and roars in victory.

Joel stands on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching. Even from behind, you can see the shape of his cheeks: he’s smiling. He crosses one foot over the other and taps his heel against the wood.

You emerge from the house slowly, quietly. “We didn’t get matching corsages this time,” you say, and he turns.

He starts, as though he glitches for a second. As though his world tilts on its axis, just from looking at you. His expression softens, his lips curve into a smile.

Then he breathes a laugh – a shaky thing, like he’s seventeen again, watching his homecoming date saunter over.

“That’s alright,” he replies, and slips a hand into his suit pocket. He fishes out two white tulips. “Remembered Alice dropped these off the other day. Here.”

Delicately, lighter than the breeze, he tucks the flower behind your ear. He steps back to admire his work, just like his daughter did.

All the best parts of you, you reckon, are the parts that are loved by them.

“How do I look?” you ask.

Joel sucks in a shattered breath. “Beautiful,” he chokes, like it’s all his voice will allow. He sniffs, drags his knuckles across the bottom of his nose, and says, “You ain’t never looked more beautiful.”

“Your turn.”

You take the second tulip from his fingers and drop it into his breast pocket, turning it until it looks perfect. “There,” you pat his chest, “Now we both look beautiful.”

He steps forward, dipping his head to kiss you. Arms around your waist, hands splayed on your back. He laughs against your lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he mumbles, tugging at the pale material.

“It still fits!” you say, running a palm down the smooth silk. Flashes of light, a squealing guitar, heated kisses and a thudding bassline. It spins past your eyes as he leans in again.

He tastes the same. Less alcohol, sure – but that same, sweet-as-honey, instantly intoxicating taste. Like you were a goner before you even hit the mattress.

You look back up, and Joel’s eyes are on yours.

“After two kids, it still fits,” you whisper.

“Hm,” he muses, glancing down. His hands slip around your ass. “Looks even better than it did then, Mama.”

You laugh against his lips. “It’s my something blue.”

“Oh, yeah?” He lifts an eyebrow. “What else you got?”

“Well, something borrowed –” you hold your left hand up, a plastic ring glinting in the sunlight, “– Duck gave me some of her finest jewelry. Something new –” you wiggle your earlobe, “– Mother’s Day earrings, and…something old…”

Joel tilts his head. His expression tightens, tightens, tightens – until he understands. He clicks his teeth and steps back. “Funny. You’re so funny, I ever tell you that?”

You giggle, letting him drag you across the porch. “I’m just bein’ realistic, man. What else do I got that’s as old as you?”

He ignores you. It makes you laugh even harder.

It always did.

The wind surfs through silk, lifting your skirt as you stride over the driveway. Your hands stay interlocked – and you know that, secretly, Joel’s as nervous as you.

He whistles and his daughters look up.

“Serena, Venus,” he calls, nodding to the truck. “Get in.”

They skip over. Sarah takes her dad’s hand – the picture of royalty as he aids her up into the backseat – and Ellie swings into your arms.

You strap them in, point fingers to warn them not to bicker, and climb in the front.

The doors slam closed and you exhale slowly. Two kids aren’t any more complicated than one – especially in yours and Joel’s case – but holy shit, they’re tiring.

They compare dresses in the backseat. What color is yours, Duck? Pink, Nel. Is mine’s pink, Duck? Yours is yellow, Nel.

Joel’s hand slips around your knee. He smiles. Gives your leg a little squeeze. He flicks the radio on, and an Eagles track sways through the cabin. He fixes the tulip in your hair, peppers kisses along your wrist.

His voice is as soft as Henley’s, when he asks –

“Wanna go to a wedding?”

[doumadono]

Katsuki and Reader as Academic rivals/enemies during their college years but is actually messing around behind close doors. For sinful sunday!!<3

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, fem!reader, rough oral (f receiving), fingering, pro hero Bakugo

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

"You're late," Bakugo growls, his voice edged with impatience as he glares at you from the doorway.

You smirk, brushing past him. "Didn't know the great Dynamight had a bedtime like a preschooler."

"Shut up," he snaps as he closes the door behind you. "You know I don't like waiting."

"And yet here we are," you retort, throwing your bag on his couch with a casual toss. 

The apartment is spacious, minimalist in its decor, with a few hints of Bakugo's personality — trophies from his hero work, a stack of fitness magazines, and a well-worn punching bag in the corner.

"Still can't believe we're doing this," he mutters, following you into the living room.

"Which part?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "The studying, or the fact that we're doing it together?"

Bakugo's scowl deepens. "Both."

You laugh, settling into the couch and pulling out your notes. "Just like old times, huh? Except now we're not stuck in that cramped library."

He huffs, flopping down beside you. "Yeah, but you still haven't gotten any less annoying."

"And you haven't gotten any less competitive," you shoot back, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, the same one that always flared when the two of you clashed in college. 

You and Bakugo had been academic rivals since your first year at UA High School. Both fiercely competitive and driven, you clashed in every class, constantly trying to outdo each other in hero training exercises and exams. The rivalry continued into college, where you found yourselves in the same courses, your mutual determination pushing you to excel. 

Despite the animosity, there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a spark that neither of you acknowledged but both felt deeply. 

Now, years later, with Bakugo as a top Pro Hero and you excelling in your own career, the competitive fire still burns. Especially when the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight fails yet another mandatory training session assigned to him by the Hero Commission.

Bakugo grabs a stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours accidentally. 

The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

"So, where were we?" he asks, his voice a little rougher.

"Here," you say, pointing to a highlighted section. "The analysis of hero efficiency metrics. You were going to show me how you applied it to your latest mission."

He nods, leaning closer. The heat from his body is distracting, and you find it hard to concentrate as he explains the data. His voice is low, the words rolling over you as you watch the way his lips move, the intensity in his eyes.

"...and that's how I optimized the response time," he finishes, looking up at you expectantly.

You blink, realizing you've barely absorbed a word. "Right. Makes sense."

He narrows his eyes. "You're not even listening, are ya, Y/N?"

"I am!" you protest, but he doesn't buy it.

"Prove it," he challenges, leaning even closer. "Explain it back to me."

Your mind races, trying to piece together what he said, but all you can think about is how close he is, the smell of his cologne, the way his breath brushes against your skin. "I, um..."

His smirk is infuriating. "Thought so, smartass."

"You're impossible," you mutter, but there's no heat in your words.

"And you're distracted," he counters. "Wonder why that is."

You glare at him, but he's right. "Maybe it's because you're in my personal space," you say, but even as you say it, you don't move away.

"Maybe you like it," he shoots back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that's more a battle than a caress. It's messy, desperate, and full of the same fire that always ignited when you were around each other.

Bakugo responds instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, it's everything you've been denying yourself for years. 

You break apart, both of you breathing hard. "This doesn't change anything," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. "No, it doesn't. But it sure as hell makes things more interesting."

You laugh, a breathless sound that turns into a moan as he captures your mouth again. 

This time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss is fierce, and you can feel the same hunger in him that burns in you.

Bakugo pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming your back as he presses you closer. The feel of his hard muscles against you, the heat of his skin, it's all intoxicating. 

You grind against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat.

"God, you're so fucking impatient," he mutters against your lips, but his hands are gentle as they slip under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath.

"You love it," you tease, arching into his touch.

"Maybe I do," he admits, his voice rough with desire. "But don't think this means you've won."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you reply, your hands busy unbuttoning his shirt. 

His shirt comes off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, neither of you willing to break the kiss for more than a few seconds.  

You trail kisses down his neck, savoring the way he shudders beneath you.

Bakugo flips you onto your back, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks down at you. "You're still a pain in my ass," he growls. His body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him a delicious reminder of his strength and power. 

You feel his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His mouth is on you instantly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the swell of your breasts.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. 

You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as you hold him close. 

He groans in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

You can feel yourself growing wetter.

"Fuck," he mutters, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and moving to the other one. His free hand roams lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With a rough tug, he pulls them down.

“Bakugo,” you basically growl at him, demanding his attention.

"Patience," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Good things come to those who wait."

But you're beyond waiting. You need him now. You reach down and grab his hand, guiding it to where you're aching for him - right between the thighs you willingly part just for him.

Bakugo's fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties, watching as your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Do you like that, baby?" he growls in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to rub you through the thin fabric. You’re so wet already, he can feel it seeping through your panties and onto his fingers.

Bakugo grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your parted legs. 

You lift your hips to help him, and soon you’re lying naked before him.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out on the couch like a feast. Your skin is soft and smooth, your breasts are full and round, and your pussy is glistening with wetness, just for him.

His fingers slip inside you easily. You’re oh so tight, he can feel your muscles clenching around his digits as he moves them in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praises, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes, just like that."

Bakugo's fingers curl inside you, hitting all the right spots. 

You can feel yourself already getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke. And then, just as you think you can't take it any longer, he stops.

You whimper in protest, but he just smirks. 

"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you first."

Before you can react, he's sliding down your body, his mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. 

You moan as he kisses and licks his way closer to your mound, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

And then, finally, his tongue is on your clit, teasing and flicking in a way that makes your whole body shudder. You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the slick slide of his tongue. It's obscene and you can't get enough of it. You buck your hips, grinding against his face as he devours you.

"Oh god, Bakugo," you moan, your voice hoarse. "I'm going to come."

He just hums in response, his tongue working harder, faster. He uses his thumb to roll your clitty in a circle, pushing the upper portion of your outer lips aside. As Bakugo plays with your little, swollen pearl, your lower lips begin to glisten, then open, and after a longer moment of playing while your breathing quickens, a thin string of crystalized dew falls from your juicy pink slit.

“Just like that, just like that!” you are a moaning mess beneath him.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls lowly, watching your body writhe, feeling the intense strain as his sweatpants become painfully tight. Bakugo doesn't stop, though. He keeps licking and sucking. He licks up through your soft folds like a dog, lapping at your cunny juices as if his life depends on it. He then curls and straightens his calloused fingers several times, petting the underside of your mound from within. “Cum for me, I wanna see you cumming hard for me,” Bakugo commands.

Your clit throbs in his mouth as he sucks the little pearl in, finger-fucking your slick, drenched pussy.

A high pitched whimper cuts off your words. Your stomach heaves, your ass shakes, and you feed Bakugo your muff with a sexy, up and down grinding motion that runs your pussy all over his slightly unshaven face. You tighten your grip on his ash-blonde hair and pull him against your pussy, mashing your clit between his tongue and your own pubic bone.

Finally, Katsuki pulls away, his face glistening with your juices.

"Fuck," you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "That was incredible."

Bakugo just grins, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome," he says. Bakugo licks and kisses his way up your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply before pulling back. "You know this doesn't mean I'm ever going to go easy on you," he says, grinding his crotch against your slick folds.

The unmistakable hardness pressing against you is making you acutely aware of how hard he is — how hard you've made him just with your moans and pussy.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Yeah, I know. But quit this shit now and fuck me like I know you've always wanted to."

[dstryvampres]

drabble or short fic, where the reader is a ballerina and cillian (or any of his other characters) is her teacher and they start an affair??? please arhgggh i love your fics!

Doll Parts

Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!Reader

Warnings: age gap(reader is 20, cillian is late 30s early 40s), power imbalance, smoking mention, fingering

Word count: 2k

A/N: thank you so so so much for the request ! this honestly was a prompt i’d never thought of but really just ended up loving :)

You had essentially been raised by your ballet studio. Years and years spent in the small confines of the studio, moving from the soft and simple preschool classes to the advanced stages. As you moved up your class sizes became smaller and smaller, and your teacher’s became stricter. Finally, as you prepare to audition for the role of Copelia in your company’s spring ballet production. You have been given the honour of training one on one with one of the studio’s ballet instructors. Unfortunately for you, they had paired you up with Mr. Murphy, a teacher you had during your late teens that you found distracted you far more than he actually helped you. You were infatuated with him ever since you first walked into that class with him at 16, and it stayed that way now as he watched you stretch before practice, four years later. His blue eyes were haunting at points, analysing every inch of you at almost every second you were in this practice space together. At almost every moment he tore you apart with his eyes, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

Every night you left the studio to go back home you continually thought of just him. The small touches on the waist as he adjusted your posture, his smooth voice as he whispered praises in your ear, and how you longed for him to press his lips against yours. God, how you longed for him to do anything to soothe the fire that he lit in your body.

Mr. Murphy clapped his hands together, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Okay. Do you think you’re ready to run through the routine from the top, one last time?” Mr Murphy asks, walking over to stand in front of the mirrors

You nod, picking yourself off from the floor and to the centre of the room. Taking a deep breath in before going into the starting position.

“One, two, three, four,” Mr Murphy counts in, clapping his hands in a steady beat as you move through the routine.

Your legs still ache from practice before your break as you start up the routine, but as any dancer at your level would, you work through it. Focusing elsewhere on your breathing and the steps. Gentle leaps, spins, and footwork move you around the fake stage you’re on to the beat of Mr Murphy’s clapping. You’re doing well enough that he hasn’t stopped you yet, able to make it through 3/4th of the routine before you hear anything.

“Stop!” Mr Murphy shouts, and you freeze with your hands above your head and a foot off the ground.

He walks over, shoes making soft thumps as he approaches you. The sound stops as you feel a hand settle on your waist, you close your eyes as his other hand moves to the thigh of your raised leg.

“I understand that you’re tired,” Mr Murphy sighs out, directly in your ear, “but you can’t start to get sloppy when it’s almost over. Your work needs to be consistent all the way through sweetheart.”

You want to melt at the pet name, but stay still as he pushes your raised leg upwards a little bit more. His breath fans over your ear and cheek, grabbing ahold of your chin lightly and turning your head to face the mirror with the hand that was once on your waist. His touch is soft, light, and warm, something that will keep you up tonight. Now the two of you are cheek to cheek, it’s so intimate that for a second you falter, but are able to gain your composure quickly. He smiles at your falter and clicks his tongue.

“Look at how I’ve positioned you,” Mr Murphy whispers, the movement of his lips tickling your cheek.

He slowly removes himself from you, but his touch still feels like it’s burned under your skin, like it always does after practice.

“Continue,” he demands when he is situated in front of the mirror once again.

You start from where he left you, pushing through the last minute of your routine with as much energy as you could manage. Finishing up in a wilted position on the ground, breathing heavily as you wait for any sort of feedback from your instructor. A couple seconds pass before you hear a slow clapping from him. Slowly you look up to be met with a warm smile from Mr Murphy, a foreign sense of joy peaking through his normally harsh and critical exterior.

“Well, that was quite wonderful. Dare I say one of the best practices we’ve gotten through so far. If you continue improving like this for the next three weeks you could land a sizeable role,” Mr Murphy says, walking over to you. He sticks out a hand to help you up, and you take it gently.

“Thank you. All my progress is thanks to you,” you reply meekly, not able to look into your instructor's face now. He’s far too close than what is professional, but it’s not like you mind.

“Would you want to go out and get a drink? Just a small celebration, on me,” Mr Murphy asks, whispering it into your ear. A secret you know that if you take in, you won’t be able to back out.

“Yes,” you whisper back, face getting warm with excitement.

He pats you on the shoulder, tracing his hand down your arm and to your hand before squeezing it. Your chest feels tingly and heavy at the action.

“I’ll meet you outside the studio then,” his hand is slowly pulled away from your own before he leaves the room.

You know why Mr Murphy wants to take you out of the studio tonight. It’s the same reason he looks at you with his icy blue eyes in that way, it’s the same reason why his touch lingers on you for far longer than necessary, and why it’s only you he ever praises and compliments. Still, you wonder if you’re right about your hunch as you meet your instructor outside your studio tonight. He stands leaned up under a light post in the snow, a cigarette between his lips. As soon as he sees you he takes one last puff before squashing it on the ground.

“Hello,” He greets, offering a sly smile to you. His cheeks and ear tips are red from the cold, you almost feel guilty about making him wait for you out here.

“Hi.” You don’t voice your guilt to him, too worried about embarrassing yourself.

“You’re one of my best students,” Mr Murphy states, stepping closer as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think you’re one of the best dancers at the studio.”

Now he’s so close that the condensation of your breath is mixing together with his. Forming a big cloud above your heads each time either of you take a breath. You stare into his eyes for a couple seconds, searching for what he means by any of this. He smells of cigarette smoke and vanilla. A hand cups your cheek.

“Are you cold?” He offers as a horrible excuse for his close proximity and the hand on your cheek. You both know this, so he leans in slowly, and your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are pressed against your own, softly, gently, like if he pushes any harder against you you’ll shatter. Slowly he pulls away, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. This time it’s you that pulls him into a kiss, hungrier and harder than the last one. You both pull away.

“I am a pretty good bartender myself,” is all Mr Murphy has to say to get you to follow him back to his apartment.

You walk with haste beside him, arms brushing against one another, almost, the whole way there. Once you get into the elevator he’s already unzipping your jacket and kissing you again, hot and passionate. You know years of longing for him are being released on your end tonight.

Soon enough you’re sitting criss cross on your dance instructors couch, taking in the fairly nice space. Mr Murphy comes to sit beside you after he’a put away your coat. His hand comes to rest on your upper thigh, rubbing it softly and slowly. You bat your eyelashes at him and he leans in to kiss you again, this time you get enough courage to slip your tongue into his mouth. His hands settle on your waist and direct you into his lap to sit. Pulling back from the kiss just so he can stare at you for a brief second, perched upon his lap, before bringing you back into the kiss.

His kisses alternate between your lips and your neck, filling you with hot desire as you trace up and down his torso with your hands. In return Mr Murphy slides his hands under your skirt, toying at your panties underneath.

“Do you want me to finger you baby?” He prys, biting at your ear to punctuate the sentence.

“Yes,” you breath out, grinding down against his lap.

His lips are back on yours once again, pushing you off his lap and into the cushions of his couch. You shudder as he starts to trace your slit through your panties, only able to release now just how wet you are. Spreading your legs open to try to tell him to start fingering you already. The message seems to come across, as he flips the front of your skirt up and pulls your panties down your legs.

Mr Murphy breaks from the kiss to stare at your pussy, spreading it open with his fingers and toying around your wet hole. You whine, bucking your hips up demanding more. He clicks his tongue as he looks back up at you, but still goes back to kissing you. Sliding a digit up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness before sliding a finger in.

You gasp into his mouth at the finger, feeling him smile at your reaction. He pumps it lazily in and out of your wet hot cunt. Not going deep enough, it makes you want so much more. He slides in a second finger, earning him a moan from you. Now with two fingers inside of you, he finger fucks you properly.

He sets a steady pace, hitting different spots inside you each time until he finally hits the spot that has you moaning into his mouth with every push of his fingers. His fingers are long and thick, something you’ve craved for so long to be inside of you. Nights of dreaming about gagging on his fingers, and about him making you cum on them has now come true.

“Do you like this sweetheart? You like how I finger your dirty wet hole?” Mr Murphy asks, speeding up his pace.

You let out a moan in response, nodding your head as your eyes roll back. Your hands look for purchase somewhere, one lands on the couch and the other on his bicep. Mr Murphy’s fingers feel so nice inside you, the way he fingers you brings you to as close to heaven as you’ll get. You squirm around as he speeds up, feeling the heat in your lower stomach increase with every pump on his fingers into your cunt. His heavy breathing just pushes you further to your release.

Mr Murphy’s thumb reaches up to your clit, rubbing small fast circles into the bundle of nerves. As soon as his thumb came to brush your clit, you knew you had seconds to go before you were tumbling over the edge.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” Mr Murphy says, looking at your face contorted in pleasure.

His words finally push you over the edge as you cum all over your dance instructor's fingers. Gasping and moaning loudly, as your hips buck upwards a couple times. You lay on his couch for a couple seconds, breathing heavily as you try to compose yourself. Mr Murphy removes his fingers slowly from you, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to wipe his hands off. The embarrassment of the situation comes back to you as you try to cover your pussy with your hands.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed by now,” Mr Murphy lets out a dry chuckle.

[witchygagirlwrites]

That's my Girl

Jay Halstead x Reader

You've been with Jay since your daughter was a baby and he loves her like she was his own. When your ex winds up back in Chicago and comes looking to play dad Jay isn't backing down.

“Daddy” you heard Vivian giggle as Jay scooped her up, tickling under her arms. “How was your day, baby girl?” She went into telling him about preschool, stumbling over a few words here and there but he listened like it was the most important thing in the world.

Times like this you swore you fell in love with Jay all over again. You weren't sure how he'd handle the fact of you being a single mom the day he asked you out, especially considering at that time she'd barely hit seven months.

He handled it in stride, making some dates to include her and paying your sister to babysit (even though she'd do it for free) so some dates would be just the two of you.

It took you months to trust him enough to open your heart, your ex Paul Victors cheated on you midway through your pregnancy. You had actually come in from the gender scan to find him in bed with another woman, the bed you'd bought.

Everyone at med was there for you, supporting you and keeping him from coming anywhere around you. When Paul had come in one day after you'd come back from maternity leave and wouldn't leave that was how you met Jay, Will called him.

_________________

Jay was everything your Paul wasn't. He was the type of man that could make you feel like everything was going to work out by giving you one of those smiles you adored. He always tried to show kindness where he could, to protect those who needed it. When his anger did flare it up it was never without reason and never pointed at you.

He was patient in the fact that you'd been hurt and that Vivian came first in your life. The first time you slept with him you were fairly certain he'd been more nervous than you.

The way he touched you, kissed you, whispered how beautiful you were…you knew then it wouldn't be long before Jay would own your heart completely.

_________________

The day Jay proposed to you he'd also made a promise to always be there for Vivian. Your wedding was in a few months and Jay was in the process of officially adopting her. Your stomach was in knots over the fact that you had to legally send a notice to Paul's last known address because he had signed the birth certificate.

Jay turned to look at you with a smile, Vivian dangling from his neck “What ya say mommy? Can we get pizza?” You nodded “Of course. If that's what little miss wants” he grinned and turned to sit her on her feet “Ok sweetheart. Go get your jacket” she grinned up at him “Ok daddy” and ran towards her room.

You watched her go then felt him pull you into his arms “You're overthinking Mrs Halstead” you cut your eyes up at him, his blue eyes holding you in place “I just don't want him messing up my life again. I'm happy” a smile slipped onto his face “You're engaged to a detective baby. You have all of the twenty first backing you. He won't come near you or her. The adoption will go through and you both will be Halsteads by the end of the year”

You shook your head “I love you Jay” he pulled you into a kiss, speaking against your lips “I love you too”

You were walking out to your car, talking to Will. He was planning to come over for him and Jay to watch the game that weekend and was asking what food he could bring “Not for you and Jay, for my niece”

You laughed lightly “She has Jay's appetite” both of his eyebrows shot up “God help us” you were almost to your car but stopped in your tracks when you spotted the orange carnation on the windshield.

Will didn't notice the flower but knew something was wrong. “Hey, what is it?” He followed your line of sight and saw the flower “Who's that from?” He asked and you barely got out “Paul”

_____________

When Jay rolled up Hailey barely got the car to a stop before he was out. “Did he come near you? I sent Kev and Kim to pick her up. I'll fucking kill him”

He pulled you into his arms after visibly checking you for injuries. “I'm ok Jay just a little freaked out” he nodded “It's ok. I'll take care of it. I'll get Voight to put a patrol on her school, we'll alert hospital security and we'll keep an eye out for him”

“He's not gonna get near her or you” Hailey assured you with a smile. You nodded, laying your head over on Jay's chest.

You were young when you got pregnant with Vivian and had done a lot of stupid shit. You'd been honest with Jay, of course but what if it was brought up in court?

What if your daughter's life was ruined because of decisions you'd made?

_______________

A few days later you got a call from Jay to meet him and Vivian's school. The patrol car had to stop Paul from entering. He'd ran before Jay got there however.

You stood in the middle of the floor intelligence used at the twenty first precinct holding Vivian in your arms. You knew you were safe here, she was safe but the thought of him trying to take her still had you shaken.

Voight walked up behind you and gently touched your back “Sweetheart, why don't you and her take my office?” You cut your eyes at Jay who nodded so you smiled “Thank you” and walked towards the office, closing the door behind yourself to sit on the leather couch.

____________

“We're finding this asshole right?” Adam asked as soon as the office door was closed and Jay nodded “Oh yeah but whoever finds him first doesn't lay a finger on him. You don't scare my fiance and threaten to take my daughter”

Voight nodded “Kim, stay here with her and Vivian. I've got to talk to a few people. If I'm needed to clean anything up, call me Halstead”

________________

“Paul Victors..drunk and disorderly…resisting arrest..minor possession charges…big jump to attempted kidnapping” Adam spoke as he walked up behind him in the bar they'd tracked him to.

“That's my daughter” he argued and Kevin's hand came to rest of his neck “Let's walk outside my man”

The two of them walked him out between them. Jay and Hailey stood against the wall. The moment he saw Jay he tried to run but Kevin pushed him towards Jay who grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the wall.

“You scared the woman I love, you threatened my daughter” Hailey kept an eye on the people around to ensure no one was paying too much attention while Kevin and Adam kept an eye on the bar.

“She's my dau..” Paul didn't get anything else out before Jay's fist hit his stomach “MY daughter” Paul coughed hard “You son of a bitch”

“Did you spit on my partner?” Hailey asked and Jay nodded, wiping his face like Paul had “He did”

Adam tsk tsked “That's assault Paul” and grabbed his cuffs.

Paul was taken to holding while the unit came back up to find you, Kim and Vivian playing a game in Voight's office.

“Hey baby” Jay greeted, pressing a kiss to your lips then kissed Vivian's forehead “Hey baby girl”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he winked at you “C'mon. We gotta meet Voight” “What about her?” You asked, looking at Vivian.

“We got her” Kim assured you so you let Jay pull you to your feet. “Where are we going?” You asked him on the stairs. He whispered “Voight pulled a Voight baby. That's all you need to know”

Voight called in a few favors he was owed. You and Jay ended up meeting with a judge in his chambers. “Jay if you sign here Vivian will officially be your daughter”

You felt his left hand slip around your waist as his right picked up the pen “I love you” he kissed the top of your head then leaned down and signed the paper.

Voight stood to the side, watching. “Congrats Jay” Jay smiled “Thanks Hank”

Hank looked at you “Now you just gotta get the Halstead last name” “What about Paul?” You asked and Jay shrugged “Platt took care of that. He's leaving Chicago. Only way to not face charges”

“I'm free?” You asked and Jay pulled you into his arms “We're free. Let's go get our daughter”

[freyito]

ɢɪʀʟᴅᴀᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✩ inspo: RECENT BOOTHILL LEAKS

★ summary: booty as a girldad...

✧ a/n: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS TO BOOTHILL'S STORY!!!!! THESE ARE BASED OFF OF BOOTHILL LEAKS!!!!!!!!!!! HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!! HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!

also i dont normally write stuff like this but oh my fucking god HE HAD A DAUGHTER. here's the fluff i promised after blue veins i guess. dont get too comfortable with it ;)

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, written before boothill release/2.2, BOOTHILL LEAKS, he's a good father. sorta, not proofread

✎ wc: 932

Boothill’s censorship comes in handy with the new addition to the family. Granted, he’s really good with watching himself around kids, regardless. He’s really good with kids, he becomes a softer person around them, even softer than he is with you. He’ll let them hang off his arms and draw things on his body, pick them up, and do that thing where he’ll throw them up in the air, spin them around, anything he can to play with the kids.

He starts to come back from missions faster, and spends more time with you and your daughter. He goes from ‘Trouble waits for no one!’ to ‘Trouble can wait a couple more days…’. He makes any little excuse to see her, and by Aeons, if you need a break, he’s more than happy to step in.

He is a total fashionista, too. He loooooooves dressing his daughter up in cute little dresses and overalls, braiding her hair and tying it up in bows. He’ll also let her play with his hair, no matter how frazzled he comes out. He’s content being her model, allowing her to put makeup on him as well. Sure, he’ll look silly, the brightest light blue eyeshadow caked on his eyelids, baby pink cheeks and deep red lipstick, but he feels pretty.

Of course, Boothill still can’t stay around as much as he’d like, he doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding him. He doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding her, specifically. He is too afraid of reliving the same scene, he often dreams of it, and there are times where he cannot tell the difference between his little girl and what was.

That means he’s protective. Even a little scrape and he’s worried, but he tries his best not to suffocate her. He’s worried, yes, but he gives himself space, for his sake and hers. He knows nothing good can come from an overbearing parent.

When she first started to walk he damn near cried, it was the first time you’ve seen him so soft and sappy. Yes, it was an ugly cry. He told everyone he knew that she WALKED! She walked to him! And he almost cries every time.

He’s also managed to keep the guitar he had made for his daughter, and he gifts it to your guys’ daughter. Not because he hopes that she will grow up to be what was, but because he believes it’s a nice memento. Somewhere out there, she’s watching you two build a family together, and she’s watching your little girl dance and play and giggle and even strum that guitar. And she’s happy.

Speaking of, he loves teaching his daughter guitar. Having her sit in his lap while he just strums, or showing her where to put her tiny fingers for certain notes. She’s not quite able to get it, but she laughs all the same, and that couldn’t make him happier.

Keeps every little drawing she makes up on the fridge. You’re starting to run out of space for magnets. Even if he’s not there, he wants her to know she’s an ARTIST. In every sense of the word. From preschool finger painting to elementary school drawings and so forth. Also keeps some folded up drawings in his wallet. His favorite is a stereotypical children’s drawing of you, him, and the house. Except he’s riding a pretty damn cool metal horse, (she named it ‘verminantor’, because she said it was cool. not ‘terminator’, no. ‘verminator’. make sure you get it right. Yes, Boothill named one of his bikes that) shooting his guns towards the sky. A pretty accurate depiction, you have to say.

He’s also really competitive for her. If she’s in any sports, he’s the dad screaming at the top of his lungs to ‘GO GET EM!!!!’ or ‘WIIIIIN!!!!!!’. He’ll get into verbal scuffles with other parents when they ask him to be quieter, because his baby deserves the best, and if the best is the loudest, then that’s what he’ll be.

Boothill is also an amazing storyteller, he can prattle on and on about whichever star system he’s been in for hours, it’s really handy when sending your daughter to sleep. Other kids really like his stories as well, he does his best to keep away from the violent parts (about 70% of his stories), and focus on how beautiful the planet was, or something like that. Most of the time he’ll pepper in stuff about a prince or a dragon or knights (which turned out to be true) to keep it entertaining, but pg for the kids.

He also spoils his daughter ROTTEN. He’ll come back from his little ‘sidequest’ with a bunch of gifts for both of you. He’s got all sorts of stuffed animals for his daughter, shirts, rocks, literally anything he could find that reminded him of her. Anything he could find that he knew she’d like.

He raises a rough n rowdy kid, essentially. The kind of father to let her roll around in the mud ‘cause she’s just havin’ fun’, who brings bugs home just for fun and names them all sorts of cowboy-esc names, (her favorite being Buck Bucksley– ‘it sounds like pa’s favorite word!’ she says, and you shoot him an angry glare. He looks away and shrugs it off, with a ‘I didn’t do nothin’.’) who’s favorite activity is looking for worms in the dirt, a kid who gets up quickly and dusts herself off when she scrapes her knees. And Boothill’s damn proud of her, absolutely gleaming with joy at any little accomplishment.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[winterrrnight]

babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

navigation || join my taglist || requests

I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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[queenimmadolla]

I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.

Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that

Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘

to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.

warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)

Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.

  He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.

  For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.

  Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.

  It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.

  It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.

  Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe. 

  He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.

  His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.

Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.

  “Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”

  “Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.

  It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.

  “She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”

  “Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.” 

  After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him. 

  You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib. 

  It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.

  He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.

  Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.

  “Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.

  Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.

  After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.

  “I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”

  Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.

  “This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s good.”

  “Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”

  “Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.” 

  Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.

  You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”

  Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her. 

  “Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”

  The light returned to your eyes.

  “Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.” 

  “He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”

“Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip. “Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad. 

When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!” Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!” Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.

   His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense. The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked  up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.

  Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time? No. That’s something you would have told him.

Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.

“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”

  “What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.

“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.

There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.

“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny. 

  He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.

  “Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.” Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.

“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.” Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement. One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong. “Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”

  That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up. 

  Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone. Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.

“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.

  “You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”

Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.

  He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.” Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.” Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population. He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing. “You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him. Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”

Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.

“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide. He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself. The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.

  Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?” Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched. Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.

“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”

Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.

  Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”

  He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”

What a jerk.

“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat. “Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!” She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?” “Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.” “Not again, Stanley.” “I know!” Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you. “MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze. “Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper. “I gotta show Waynie, first!” She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now. Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him. “I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed. “It’s not that bad!”

“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”

It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. “Thank you.” You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone. It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day. 

“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.” You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”

[yuzurins]

# i’m smitten with the thought of you

itoshi rin x gn!reader. sae and rin don’t have an estranged relationship. childhood friends to (eventual) lovers. crack don’t take this too srsly pls

“rin, say ahh!” you hold out a spoonful of cake in front of his face.

“shut the fuck up.” rin pouts, turning his head away from you.

you snicker, but your hand doesn’t falter. “come on! you know you want it~” you tease, dragging the end of the sentence as if you were talking to a small child.

he keeps his mouth shut, and you gush internally at the fact that he’s blatantly sulking. rin will never beat the allegations for being the cutest boy ever, even if he’s not the same as the sweet little boy you knew years ago.

desperately trying to hold back a laugh, you purse your lips and mimic rin’s little pout. “you used to listen to me much more obediently when you were younger.”

“you-“ you shoved the spoon into his mouth as soon as you get the chance. rin reluctantly complies but is quick to complain after. “that’s foul!”

you raise an eyebrow. “and that’s what the naughty boys get. tsk tsk.”

it’s obvious you don’t understand how wrongly your words could be interpreted by the way your expression stays unwavering. perhaps it was your dense disposition, or the fact that you’ve known rin since he was a kid in preschool.

rin thinks he’s being — and has been — painfully obvious about his feelings, yet you still fail to notice the faint blush creeping onto his face. even sae found out about it, and rin had to fight for his life to defend himself.

“rin. that’s practically incest-“

“oh my god nii-chan, you know that’s not true!”

sae can think you’re like a sibling to him, but rin doesn’t. in fact, he has never. he can’t deny that he’s had a crush on you the moment you were introduced to him as sae’s friend, and though it might seem like it was just puppy love, his current actions can prove that it isn’t.

“and you used to be so well-behaved back then.” you sigh dramatically. “did you know you would stick to me all the time, and get super jealous whenever i did anything with sae?”

the younger boy scoffs, standing up to go get a drink of water to make sure he doesn’t go insane from your ruthless teasing.

“hey! don’t run away!” you smile, eyes twinkling in amusement, as you get up to follow him. “it was really cute, i swear!”

choosing not the humour you, rin continues on with his task (that he could not care less about), humming in response.

you stand next to him and watch, occasionally feeling the need to poke him. starting from his arm, you string a line of pokes all the way up to his face, where you change your stance to pinch his cheek, a frequent action of endearment you used to do when you were younger.

needless to say, you were not expecting rin to grab your hand so promptly. and you most definitely were not expecting him to then lean towards you, not stopping until his face was merely an inch away.

“woah-“ you exhale as you stumble back slightly. he’s close enough for you to study all the details of his face, from the strands of his hair to the sharp curve of his jaw. he towers over you, his broad shoulders wide enough to engulf you completely into his presence. it’s funny, this scene is the complete opposite of what it was like as children, your roles entirely switched.

your breath hitches as his gaze locks onto yours, showing you all his pent-up feelings over the years for the first time. he’s determined, you can tell at least that much, but what surprises you the most is how dilated his pupils are; his eyes are begging to let you know his story, one of his long, endless pining for you, and you only.

it goes without saying you weren’t ignorant enough to overlook the reality that rin grew up, that he’s matured now. would it be cowardly for you to admit that you have indeed taken notice of his feelings at times, but refused to act on them in fear of losing him? what if you were wrong? what if rin didn’t like you that way? there was too much on the line, and you didn’t want to risk every memory you’ve made with him and sae for the past 12 years.

like an unspoken condition between you two, rin also knows the risks. he knows, but he’s so smitten it’s driving him insane. you’re a risk that he’s willing to take, and he’s had his mind made up since the beginning.

“yeah?” he whispers. “how about now?”

dumbstruck, you nod absentmindedly in response. almost like you were under a spell, and rin was the mastermind enchanting you.

rin smirks at the sight of your face heating up and flushing to a light red. “you still think i’m cute, y/n?”

“the cutest ever.” you’re quick to recover, flashing a small smile of your own. shameless, but you refuse to concede now. “care to prove me wrong, itoshi?”

“what the fuck are you two doing in the kitchen, oh my god.” sae deadpans. “rin, please pick and choose a better time to confess your feelings, thanks.”

you jump. rin groans.

“you need to pick and choose a better time to interrupt, THANK YOU.” rin scowls, letting go of your hand. the sudden withdrawal of his warmth disappoints you, but you smile nonetheless hearing their brotherly antics.

sae’s impassive, walking in between the two of you to refill his own water. “you two forgot all about me, i was getting worried that rin might’ve killed y/n or something.”

“as if!” rin rolls his eyes. “get out of here, at least let me finish.”

shooting him a quick side-eye, sae smirks at his little brother. “okay loverboy, just make sure to not make a mess in the kitchen.” and he swiftly makes an exit before any further retaliation.

“i hate him.”

“you know you don’t.”

rin sighs, closing his eyes for a few seconds.“i guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”

you laugh, and grab his hand to play with his fingers, a not very subtle attempt to hide your beet red face. “think it was obvious enough, rinnie.”

his heart throbs at your use of his childhood nickname. “took you long enough.”

“so, will you continue to show me how cute you are?” you ponder as you look up at rin.

“stop treating me like a child, jeez.” and that pout is back onto his face once again. “i’ll show you anything you want, but i’ll make sure you won’t see me as just a cute little boy anymore.”

a/n: this was so crack of me. not proofread btw i wrote this in one sitting. ^_^ @kouyun <3

[tteokdoroki]

thinking about bakugou being like a stay at home dad for a while, perhaps he’s out on leave for work because of a serious injury and you end up having a beautiful little baby in that time :(

so katsuki ends up being the one to do school runs or is spotted grocery shopping with your little one seated in the cart— your husband absentmindedly babbling away at them about which kind of disinfectant wipes mommy usually gets and if they’re baby safe. talking to your infant daughter as if she has a clue about what’s going on.

she’s the spitting image of him too, big red eyes and angel blonde curls— perhaps she’s got your nose and your smile and your complexion but at first glance she definitely looks like a bakugou.

your husband is in charge of pick up from daycare and you switch between drop-offs but ever since katsuki decided to become a SAHD he’s handled both. he’s got a good relationship with all the staff, they know him by name and favour your little princess more than they should. it helps that she’s adorable, and it’s even more helpful that her daddy is the spitting image of a god. katsuki’s not usually oblivious to the other parents and carers that fawn and drool over him, he usually brushes them off or flashes the wedding ring that’s been happily sitting on his finger for the last decade— your claim on him.

but there’s something about your daughter’s daycare teacher— something that doesn’t click in her head to make her realise that bakugou is indeed married.

she does little things like lay her arm on his bicep when he picks up your baby girl, little notes in her backpack asking bakugou out to coffee sometimes and spreading rumours amongst the other parents that he’s a single father— all of which your husband discloses to you after finding you teary-eyed with the notes crumpled between your shaky fingers. you ask if he’s cheating, if it’s because you work too much or if he needs you home more. you’d kept working after bakugou’s injury even though you knew his savings alone could cover you both— you just wanted to save a little for your baby’s college fund.

and bakugou doesn’t start a fight, doesn’t make things worse— he tells you the truth, reassures you and says “now why would i give up the universe’s greatest gift t’me for some old annoyin’ hag?” truth be told it makes you giggle a little.

the next time bakugou goes to drop your daughter off to daycare, he makes sure that you’re in attendance. the three of you a picture perfect family with your baby girl kicking and swinging her feet between the two of you, squealing with so much happiness. the world knows that baby is loved.

today you’re here to prove a point, letting bakugou lead your daughter up to the entryway to her preschool, with you in tow, watching the day care teacher closely. you’re not a fool, you know that your husband is attractive — you’re lucky but he considers himself luckier. so you get why the teacher blushes and bumbles over her words like a high schooler when she sees him.

“mister bakugou, good morning!” she mumbles coyly, “have you been getting my notes?”

katsuki makes a noncommittal noise, helping your daughter to take her backpack off. “yeah, been burnin’ ‘em though.”

“what, why?”

“i’m married,” he says simply, and you’re ashamed to admit you enjoy watching the colour drain from the teacher’s face. “s’not appropriate and you can’t take a hint.”

you step into the picture with a bright smile, pressing your lips to your daughter’s cheek before patting her back as a sign to run along inside. you give bakugou the same treatment on his lips, locking him into a long passionate kiss right in front of her teacher.

“mrs.bakugou, delighted to make your acquaintance.” bakugou loves how sickly sweet you are, possessive as you wrap your arms around his middle and tuck your head into the pocket between his neck and shoulder. “though i doubt we’ll be seeing you much longer. we’ll be having our daughter transferred out of your class.”

it’s a pride thing, for both you and katsuki to watch someone crumble in the presence of your strong relationship. he tells you that on the way back to the car, how hot you are when you’re possessive of him like that. he shows you it by convincing you to take the day off from work too — the house void of any childlike laughter for a few hours, giving bakugou enough time to work another baby into you.

[dilfl0v3rss]

dad!connie making his kids speak spanish (it just popped up in my head idk😭)

“pop can i get five dollars f’lunch?” the back of your eight year old son, carlos’, head was instantly tapped (lightly) with a roll of newspaper as connie stood next to you in the kitchen while you cooked. “en español, hijo, o no obtienes nada.” your son wasted no time , rolling his eyes as he rubbed the all over his head. he definitely got his attitude from you. “owww papá. ¿puedo tener 5 dólares?” you giggled as you watched your husband dig through both of his sweatpants pockets for the cash, looking at the ceiling with his tongue poking his cheek while he searched. when he finally pulled out the bill he held it to his chest, keeping it from your sons reach. “dónde están tus modales?” carlos sighed, rolling his eyes once again before saying what his father wanted to hear. “ay dios mío…por favor”. he mumbled.

“que?”

“por favor, papá, tengo que irme.”

“aight good enough” connie says before tossing his son a twenty dollar bill. “desayuna en el camino, ya que te despertaste tarde. te quiero. que tengas un buen día, chico.” you weren’t fluent in spanish, but you understood a little of what your husband said, signaling you to join in. “i love you baby stay outta trouble.” the two of you watched your son walk to the door. “love you both. see ya.” you listened to carlos’ friends call for him to hurry up so they can walk to the bus stop together before he closed the door. connie’s arms wrapped around your waist as you flipped the heart shaped pancakes in the pan. “mi amor-” before he could even finish his sentence, you put the spatula up in his face. “go wake your daughter up. she has preschool to be at in an hour and a half.”

now it was time for connie to have an attitude. “mi corazón whyyyy. i hate when she’s all fussy in the morning. let’s give her another thirty minutes, yea?” your daughter, amayah, may only be four but she slept like an old man. you believed she can sleep through a hurricane, but god forbid she’s woken up when she doesn’t want to be. she’ll be crying all around the house for hours, and that is something your husband hated to see. he never wanted his baby crying. “she needs to be up now papi we talked about this. it already take too long to do her hair since she’s so tender headed, and i can’t afford you bringing her there late.” connie knew you were right, so without another word he made his way upstairs to his daughters room.

he cracked the door open and was delighted to see her already up, bonnet on the floor as she scratched at her head while sitting upright in the bed. “g’morning daddy. is mommy making pancakes?” connie adored her. she was the spitting image of you. same nose, same eyes, same everything. she was his little princess. “good morning mi vida. yea mommy’s making your favorites.” amayah slides out of bed, little nightgown swaying at her knees as she put her bunny slippers on. by the time you finished up breakfast the two of them were sat at the table, ready to devour the food you made. if there was one thing your kids got from their father, it was their big appetites. the three of them ate any and everything in site.

connie and amayah, of course, finished their breakfast first. going back up to her room to get her dressed while you watched your show on the couch. “you want the pink or the green one princesa?” connie asked as he held the different color dresses in his hand. “i wanna wear the greeeen daddy. and i want mommy to put a white bow in my hair.” amayah grabbed for the green dress, but was met with nothing but air as she watched connie pull it out of her reach. here he goes again. “español, por favor, princesa.” your daughter didn’t mind though. she actually loved conversing in spanish since it was something her father’s side of the family did often. she smiled as she replied to her father. “p-puedo ponerme el v-vestido verde hoy, papá, por favor? y, puedes ponerme un lazo blanco en el pelo?”

connie smiled as he handed his daughter her desired choice. “buen trabajo. papá está impresionado.” amayah smiled, giving connie a small thank you before letting him help her get dressed. when the two of them finally came downstairs, you seen that not only did connie dress her, but he made sure to comb and style her hair as well. it was in a nice bun with a white bow pinned at the front of it. “myah you look beautiful baby. give momma a kiss before you go.” you watched your daughter let go of connie’s fingers before skipping her way over to you before giving you a tight hug and kissing you on the cheek. “bye mommy. see you laterrr.” she said. connie, being the big baby he is, couldn’t resist feeling a little jealous.

“papa want a kiss too mommy” he says with a fake sad voice as he made his way in front of the couch. you rolled your eyes before giving your husband a small peck on the lips. which he clearly wasn’t satisfied with since he decided it’d be okay to grab your face and start kissing you as he would when y’all would be in the bedroom. as the two of you pulled away from each other you looked towards amayah who had a disgusted look on her face. “ewwww!!”

the both of you laughed as you lightly pushed connie off of you. “see what you did. get outta here ‘for you traumatize our daughter further.” connie sucked his teeth, getting up from where he was leaning to join hands with his daughter again. “let’s go princess. daddy don’t want you to be late.” and with that he and your daughter went to the front door. you watch him mouth a, “this isn’t over”, to you with squinted eyes before leaving the house. you rolled your eyes as you turned back towards the tv to finish watching your show. “i bet it isn’t” you sighed as you made your self comfortable on your spacious couch.

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part one (chapters 1-3) story info • next part

word count: 6.1k

content warnings: mentions of homophobia and depression

Lily

Transferring to University of Connecticut in my junior year was my final lifeline.

No one has actually verbalised that but it was an unspoken understanding.

Everyone in my life, back home in Boston knew that coming to UConn was a fresh start for me and a second opportunity at life.

I started my college career at UMass in my home state of Massachusetts. Going to college was just another thing on my list to tick off to pacify my family. Unlike my high school peers, I never aspired to go to college, in fact I didn't think I'd be alive by the time it came around.

"You must be Lily!" A sweet voice pulled me from my inner monologue as I stood in my new bedroom, boxes surrounding me.

"Yes!" I spun around to see a brown haired, brown eyed girl stood in my doorway. I flashed her my biggest, bravest smile.

Fake it till you make it.

"I'm Kelsey." She introduced herself coming closer.

Being a junior, I opted to live in an apartment for my time here at UConn. Four people, four bedrooms. That way I had my own space but still the option to mingle in our shared living room and kitchen. I knew I was sharing with three other girls as there was a paper with all our names listed on the table when I entered the apartment a few hours ago.

Kelsey

Madison

Hannah

and me, Lily.

"Nice to meet you." I say and Kelsey hugs me tight, its a warm hug and I can tell its not just a pleasantry, Kelsey feels kind and that relaxes me immediately.

"Looks like we're the first to arrive, how long have you been here?" She asks looking around at the numerous open boxes with my possessions spilling out of them.

"A few hours - how about you?" I bounce the question back to my new roommate.

"Oh I got here last night. Just took a walk around to familiarise myself. I lived on the complete other-side of campus last year but wanted to upgrade for my junior and senior year." She explained.

"I expect a tour at some point then." I joke but Kelsey nods enthusiastically, "Of course! Did you live off campus last year?"

"No. Well, yes - I lived in a whole different state. I just transferred from UMass." I tell her.

I decide to keep my explanation of why I transferred clean and concise.

Massachusetts was not for me.

I was born and raised there and needed something new. I'm not ashamed of my life and what has happened, I'm just very aware that not everyone needs to know everything about me.

Not yet anyway.

And besides, this is supposed to be a fresh start and how can there be any truth in that if I spend my time talking about the past.

Kelsey stayed in my room for the next few hours and helped me unpack the majority of my stuff. Things were starting to look normal rather than like a bomb had just exploded, I was thankful for the help.

I learned a lot about Kelsey in the time we spent filling my wardrobe and organising my dresser. She was studying Education as she wanted to be a preschool teacher. She was also from New England - New Hampshire to be precise (East Coast girlies unite). She was a party girl and insisted on showing me the bars near-by. She was newly single and was making it her junior year goal to stay that way.

Me too. But I didn't mention that.

Her favourite colour was red which looking at her now, was obvious. She sported a red baby tee and had her nails painted the exact same shade. She couldn't function without a morning coffee.

Me too. I did mention that.

I liked Kelsey a lot.

"So Kinesiology..." She started mentioning my choice of major.

"Yes - it was kind of a last minute decision. I love sport, especially soccer and I knew I needed to study something that I could relate to a hobby or I would have lost interest." I laughed.

"Do you play soccer?" I shook my head immediately, "God no. I have absolutely no athletic ability I just love watching it." I say as we sit on my bed side by side, backs against the wall.

Watching soccer, whether it be on TV or in real life was the only time my brain truly shut off. I was too focused on where the ball was, who it was being passed to, how well the pass was being executed and if the net would ripple at the end of a well thought out play to focus on anything else.

"I suppose ninety minutes of tight kits and sweaty bodies isn't a bad view." Kelsey giggled and I couldn't argue.

"Do you watch or play any sports?" I turn my body to Kelsey slightly giving her my attention, I preferred talking about others.

"Definitely don't play. As for watching, I make myself present if theres a big tournament on, usually at the bar mind you." She points a finger at me matter of factly.

"But enough about me. I feel like I've told you my life story and all I know about you is you're a Bostonian who loves soccer. Tell me something fun! Are you dating anyone? What's your type?" She asks eyebrows wiggling at me.

I contemplate my answer carefully not knowing how to broach the subject. Kelsey makes me feel like I can trust her but in reality I've known her less than 12 hours so don't actually know her. I remind myself why I'm here: to start afresh. I decide to be honest, I spent way too long hiding who I really was.

"I'm not dating anyone." I confess, the words feeling foreign even though its the truth. "My last relationship didn't end so well. In fact, it almost ended me." I quip making light of a not so light time in my life not so long ago. "Oh no, I'm sorry Lily. I'll kill the guy if I ever meet him." She says seriously, hands balled into fist as if she's a boxer preparing to go into the ring.

Here goes nothing.

"The girl." I say correcting her. "You'll kill the girl if you ever meet her." I stay silent trying to read Kelseys reaction to the fact that I'm gay. Living in America you never know what to expect when you reveal something like that, I just hoped mine and Kelseys newfound friendship wasn't about to come to a premature end.

"I have no problem beating a bitch up." The brunette says flicking her hair off her shoulder. I breathe a sigh of relief, the revelation doesn't seem to have bothered her in the slightest. "My sisters lesbian and I've heard enough stories to know girls are just as bad a guys. Maybe you should join the sisterhood of single juniors." She says, raising an eyebrow putting her hand between us for me to place mine on top and join the unofficial club. I hesitate because deep down I'm a lover girl and despite my heart being in a million pieces right now I know I want to love again.

"Hey, there's no contract. You can leave at anytime and theres no rules that say we can't have fun." Kelsey playfully reassures sensing my hesitation so I place my hand on top of hers, "Single sisters!" We both giggle, Kelsey leaning her body into mine so our shoulders are touching.

This feels like the perfect start to my life in Connecticut.

I left Boston broken. Brokenhearted and mentally in pieces.

My once big friendship group had dwindled down to one best friend. My ever growing confidence had come to a halt and years of therapy was thrown down the drain.

My Sophomore year was turbulent at best, coming to terms with my sexuality was a journey and then being outed was crushing and too much for me to handle. Managing my emotions has always been a problem of mine, I feel everything or I feel nothing. Both ends of the spectrum can be scary and dangerous and I did stupid things and made an almost irreversible decision.

UConn and Kelsey feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Madison and Hannah showed up at some point that evening. The girls had been roommates their Freshman and Sophomore year so already knew each other well. Kelsey and I introduced ourselves and we decided as a group, pizza for dinner was the best way to spend our first night together. We spoke and ate in the living area of our apartment until tiredness took over us one by one.

As I lay in my new bed in my new room I think of the days and weeks to come. I want to start off the best I can, give myself the best opportunity to love life again. Starting tomorrow, my goal was to find a student job on campus. Classes would take up most of my time but I needed pretty much all of my time filled, that way my mind wouldn't stray. I also wanted to scope out the sports. UConn was known for their amazing athletics program and I couldn't wait to be watching games again.

Oh and of course Kelsey wants to go to a bar tomorrow night, Hannah and Madison too so I close my eyes preparing for a busy day ahead, the melatonin I'd taken kicking in.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

My first day in Storrs as a student at UConn was going better than expected.

Kelsey had showed me her favourite coffee place and it had lived up to her hype. I got my usual order of an iced caramel latte with soya milk. I had unintentionally made myself lactose intolerant after being vegan for a few years. I was no longer vegan but dairy refused to be introduced back into my diet. While we sipped our drinks she gave me the grand tour of campus and then Downtown Storrs. It reminded me a lot of Boston which was bittersweet but I focused on the sweet.

"And that," She says pointing to one of the buildings with a huge Huskies sign, "is the infamous Huskies! The best bar around...well, the only bar around but never-mind. That's where we're going tonight." My roommate tells me and does a little dance which makes me laugh.

We finished our coffees on the walk back to campus and Kelsey dropped me off at the Athletics building where I was going to enquire about a student job. I had checked online and there were a few available, I just had to apply. I figured showing my face would make me stand out compared to the many applicants I'm sure admissions would have to choose from. It also gave me an opportunity to check the team rosters and schedule. I became friends with a lot of the student athletes at UMass because I went to so many games, it made me wonder if that would be the case here at UConn.

Walking into the building, it was obvious there was a gym inside I could hear what I assumed to be people working out. Music blasted through speakers though it was muffled by the closed doors and the clanging of weights dropping further verified my assumption.

The doors were closed as I walked passed what I now know is the weight room from the sign outside. My curiosity tempted me to peek inside the room as I heard a cacophony of voices, girls voices for sure.

I was stopped in my tracks, "Hi, can I help you?" The voice came from an older woman, I looked to her and smiled, "Yes please. I'm looking for the main office, here to enquire about a student job this semester." I explained.

"Oh wonderful - follow me, I'm Janet. Head of admissions for the Athletic Department."

I followed Janet down a few corridors and up a set of stairs before reaching the office. The walls along the way all adorned with various UConn teams holding trophies and medals covered in confetti. It was clear they were no strangers to winning here.

"So we have a few positions on offer is semester. I suppose it depends on what kind of role you're looking for." Janet says sitting behind her desk and inviting me to sit facing her.

"I'm studying Kinesiology so I'm just grateful to have the opportunity to work within the Athletics department at all. I'd be happy with anything." I say and truly mean it.

"What is your schedule like?" Janet asks.

"My classes are most days until 4 or 5pm. Wednesday's are completely free as are evenings and weekends." I tell her.

"Hm OK, we have a position here for a Communications Intern. You'll be assisting with post and pre game press conferences and social media posts. You'll be at most home games on the sidelines, taking notes for our journalists to write in articles and pictures to post on our socials - nothing professional of course, we have photographers for that but the fans like to see some behind the scenes on game days." Janet reads off her screen before looking up at me with a raised brow, "How does that sound?"

"That sounds great!" I replied enthusiastically, "As a fan of sports myself, hopefully I can show game days from a new angle."

"Amazing! Our womens teams are gaining a lot more traction, not just on campus so I'm positive fans who can't make it to games in person will be grateful." Janet smiles, typing a few words then standing from her desk. "I've put your name down - at the top of the list in bold - it's always nice when applicants come and see us face to face." I smile to myself knowing that would be the case.

"Thank you for making time to see me." I say to Janet, shaking her extended hand before she leads me out of the office. "My pleasure."

Outside of Janets office is a huge ceiling to floor window with a perfect overview of the gym below. I was correct earlier, there are people working out and it is girls. I stop momentarily to take in the view below me, my mind automatically goes to my major and I wonder what paths these girls are on. Are any of them injured or coming back from injury? I'm immediately intrigued as I watch them perform different exercises.

"Those are our basketball girls." Janet breaks my daydream. "I suspect you'll be working with them a lot this semester."

I turn to her my eyes slightly widened, does that mean I've secured the job?

"If your application is successful of course." She smirks but its a knowing smirk that puts me at ease.

"Oh, and thats Kayla." She points out a specific girl in the gym, dressed differently from the others and considerably shorter so I immediately assume she's not on the team. "She works here in the main office with me. She's a great girl to know, I'll introduce you."

I follow Janet back down the stairs and through the same corridors we took less than thirty minutes ago. This time I take more care as I look at the pictures on the walls, the basketball team seem to take up the majority. I spot names like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi which I am familiar with but not too much, in all honesty I've never watched a full game of basketball in my life. As we get closer to the end of the corridor where the pictures get more recent I notice one girl in particular, a blonde, she seems to always be in the middle of group photos, her teammates looking at her with admiration. Her smile contagious, making me smile as if I'm in the picture myself.

"Prepare yourself." Janet laughs as we approach the weight room door. "What for?" I ask now not so curious about going inside as I was earlier. "They're a lively lot." Is all she says before pushing open the door.

I take a sharp inhale, anxiety creeping in as I follow Janet into the room of athletes.

Every single one of my senses was hit walking into the weight room. The noises that were once muffled by the closed doors were now loud and clear. The room was significantly colder than the rest of the building for obvious reasons but I wrapped my arms around myself nonetheless. Thanks to my deep inhale on walking in, I was only now getting a waft of what smelt like a mix of sweat and fruit. I say a silent prayer that its the girls in here because I know for a fact it would be sweat mixed with more sweat if it was the boys. My eyes scanned the room quickly taking in what I just seen from above. I recognised some of the girls from the photos on the walls, not the blonde though. She wasn't here. Maybe she was a senior and had graduated already, a shame if that is the case.

"Hello ladies." Janet calls over the booming music. One by one the girls turn their attention to us and smile or wave and I return the pleasantries.

"A new commit?" I hear a voice behind me ask before feeling a hand press down on each of my shoulders. I unconsciously tense at the surprise contact.

"No, no. This is Lily - a junior here. She just applied for a job in the department so I'm showing her around." Janet explains and the girl that just had her hands on my shoulders walks in front of me revealing herself.

"Oh damn my bad, I got excited for a second." She laughed a little embarrassed, "I'm KK, nice to meet you." The girl introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, KK." I smile at the basketball player and she goes to join the rest of girls who are now teasing her for basically jumping on my back. I didn't mind, it just caught me off guard. Besides, I'd rather these girls be overly friendly than cold and moody especially if I'll be working with them soon.

"I'm Paige." A slender hand extends itself to me, coming from the same direction KK came from. I take the hand in mine before looking to see who exactly 'Paige' was. "Hi-" my words get lodged in my throat.

There she was.

The girl from the photos. The blonde with the contagious smile and, I'm now realising, extremely blue eyes like the bluest eyes I've ever seen.

I compose myself quickly, "Hi Paige, I'm Lily." I manage without stuttering as I shake the girls hand before letting go, somewhat reluctantly.

Her hand was bigger than mine and it was warm pressed against my palm, my hand tingled where her touch just was.

"What's your major?" She asks and she seems genuinely interested.

"Kinesiology." I reply, turning my full attention to Paige, my back now to Janet.

"Interesting! You'll get along perfect here, lots of bad knees." She says lifting her leg showing off a nasty scar before tapping me on the shoulder and joining KK and the others.

"Lily hasn't got the job yet, Paige." Janet called after the girl who turned around, "You know what to do Jan!" She called back with a grin.

The girls giggled as she joined them and she playfully shoved one of them away. I couldn't hear their hushed words over the music but the way Paige glanced back at me, making direct eye contact, made me think it was about me or maybe I was just delusional hoping the pretty girl was in fact talking about me. I quickly averted my gaze.

The type of scar and placement on Paige's knee made me assume she had suffered an ACL tear. Tough, if I was correct. ACLs are a horrible injury to face but I can tell by the way she squats with a barbell rested on her shoulders, her form perfect, posture just right that it was healed. Suddenly my gaze was no longer diverted and I was just staring.

Janet introduced me to Kayla and we spoke for a few minutes, mainly about Kayla's role and how excited she would be if I joined the team as, and I quote, "The Athletics Department needed more girls behind the scenes."

We left the weight room together, Janet bidding us farewell at the door and Kayla and I walking to the exit of the building side by side.

"Welcome to UConn, by the way. I'm guessing you transferred here? I haven't seen you around before." Kayla says to me.

"Thank you! Yes, I just transferred from Massachusetts. So far, so good." I smile as we step outside into the warm August weather.

"It really is great here. Give me your number and we'll meet up, I know you just met Paige and KK but I'll introduce you to the others as well." She says pulling her phone from her back pocket and handing it to me.

I type my number in her phone saving my contact as Lily Kent - my full name. "That will be fun, thank you. I only know my roommates at the moment so I appreciate it." I hand Kayla back her phone.

"Thats the perks of working in sports, you make whole teams of friends." She says proudly.

"I need as many as I can get, it's kinda scary being the new girl. Maybe I'll meet some more tonight, we're going to a bar." I tell my, hopefully, new friend.

"Not the famous Huskies?" Kayla asks sending me a quizzical look. "Yes! The famous Huskies." I laugh, seems like this place has quite the reputation. "Perfect! We'll see you there then."

"We'll"? We all? As in possibly Paige? Suddenly I need to go back to the apartment take an everything shower, beat the hell out of my face and put together the best outfit I own.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

I wrapped myself in my robe and stepped out of the bathroom. All three of my roommates were in the living area of our apartment. "Hey guys!" I chirped, strolling into my room.

"Hey Lils, what are you wearing tonight?" Hannah asked following me into my bedroom. I looked back at her and we both glanced around my room and laughed.

Before taking a shower I attempted to choose an outfit which had resulted in me tearing my wardrobe apart, clothes now covering the majority of my bed and floor.

"Ok girl, never fear - Hannah is here." Hannah reassured sitting slap bang in the middle of the floor reaching for random items of clothing. "It's definitely a casual vibe but also our first night out. Not all students are back on campus yet but the athletes are so arguably thats even more of a reason to look good." She side eyed me from her place on the floor.

Could Hannah read my mind?

I hadn't mentioned my interaction or reaction to Paige to any of my roommates yet. Mainly because I had made a pact with Kelsey to stay single - not that Paige was in anyway trying to make me her girlfriend but also because I knew we'd probably see her tonight and three tipsy girls around their friends crush well, it wouldn't stay a secret lets just say that.

I also deep down knew that it was probably way too soon for me to even be thinking about another relationship but I can admire from afar right?

I was with my ex-girlfriend for almost two years before it finally ended in May, three months ago. 21 out of the 22 months we dated, we kept our relationship a secret from pretty much everyone. My best friend, Emma knew but that was it. That was the way we both wanted it, neither of us were out and we enjoyed sneaking around and having a genuinely private, private life.

That was until April when I accidentally left my phone in the library and it was found by someone who I thought was my friend. I stupidly had a picture of me and my girlfriend kissing as my lock screen. My phone was returned to me and everyone acted normal, I thought they hadn't noticed. Until that night, a picture of my lock screen was posted into our group chat and all hell broke loose. I felt physically sick at the words used to describe me and my girlfriend.

I was told I was sick, I needed help, I needed to find God and repent. I was told I was better off dead. It all very quickly became too much and I removed myself from the group chat and hoped to avoid the girls that were a part of it.

Unfortunately, there was no avoiding one another when your families knew each other. My girlfriend and I were promptly outed to all of our friends and families against our wishes. It put a lot of pressure on us. I was lucky to have kept a best friend in Emma. She stood by my side when nobody else did. My family were understanding, confused for a while but they came round and accepted me for who I am.

My girlfriend wasn't as lucky and that is what ultimately broke us apart. I don't blame her, she chose a relationship with her family and not being disowned over me. I can't blame her.

I blamed myself though. Me and my stupid lock screen had ruined us. I quickly fell into a downward spiral that was impossible to save myself from. I was drowning and I didn't know how to swim. I have a history of depression and I stopped taking my medication, I had lost all will to even try and continue with life and one night I decided I was done.

Life was not worth living if it was like this.

"Ok! How about this skirt, with this top?" Hannah asked holding up a distressed mini denim skirt and black bandeau top.

I looked at the outfit in her hands seeing the vision. "Yes, but swap the top for this one." I say holding up a long sleeve black shirt instead.

"Girl, it's August and we're going to be inside. You do not need long sleeves." I swallowed, I knew this would come up sooner or later. "Yes I do." Was all I said and luckily Hannah dropped the subject and threw me my skirt.

"Get ready! I'm going to change, we're leaving in an hour." The blonde girl stood up from my bedroom floor and left me alone to get dressed.

"Here, drink up." Kelsey placed a red cup, full to the brim, on my desk as I applied my mascara, finishing off my makeup.

"What's this?" I ask not waiting for an answer before taking a swig of the unknown drink. Vodka. It was definitely vodka and something else. I winced at the intensity of the cocktail. "It's the Kelsey Special of course!" My roommate laughed taking a sip from her own cup.

"Oh close your eyes!" She said doing a little jump, "I have a surprise for you."

“A surprise? For me?” I say doing as she says.

"Ok open!" I opened my eyes to see Kelseys hand opened in front of me, a danity string bracelet laying in her palm. "What's this?" I ask taking the thread into my own hands and admiring the intricate plait it was braided into. "It's official Single Sisters merch, duh!" She exclaims taking it back from me and tying it around my left wrist, she held up her own wrist showing off her matching bracelet. "I love them Kels!" I smile as I get up and pull her into a hug, "Thank you." "You're so welcome Lils, now lets get drunk!" And with that she drags me out of my bedroom, drinks in hand, into the kitchen where Hannah and Madison are pouring shots.

By the time we reach Huskies, its safe to say I'm tipsy. I'm not sure how many shots were consumed back at the apartment but I had another cup of the Kelsey Special and my body felt tingly and almost numb, it felt nice. I wasn't new to drinking and I knew my limit so I knew I'd be fine. We each got a drink as soon as we entered the bar and headed straight for the dance floor. The bar was decently busy, I scanned the room, no sign of Kayla...or Paige.

I'm not sure how long I had been dancing with my roommates before I felt an arm drape over my shoulders, "Hey hottie!" I flicked my head round and was met with Kaylas smiling face. "Oh my god, hiii!" I exclaim pulling her in for a hug, the alcohol had definitely hit. "These are my roommates! Kelsey, Hannah and Madison." I say pointing at the three girls individually, Kayla introduced herself as I finished the remainder of my drink.

"Come meet the girls!" Kayla shouted over the loud music, ushering us through the crowd over to a table in the corner of the bar.

She went around the entire group aquainting us with each other. I was now able to put names to the faces of the girls I'd seen in the gym earlier in the day.

Ice, Nika, Aliyah, Azzi, Aubrey and Jana.

"And of course you already met KK and Paige." Kayla says pointing behind me as Paige and KK approached us, multiple drinks in each of their hands.

I'm unsure whether it was the copious amounts of alcohol in my system or the moody low lighting of the bar but Paige looked particularly majestic as she sauntered over to the group. She had this vibe that seemed to follow her. Multiple heads turned in her direction and something told me she knew how hot she was.

KK was quick to put down the drinks she held and embrace me, I hugged the girl back taking in her sweet scent. Paige wasn't so quick, she handed drinks to her teammates and they thanked her before she turned her attention to me and my roommates. She introduced herself to Kelsey, Hannah and Madison giving them all a quick side hug.

"Hi Lily." She says, her eyes looking directly into mine. I have to look up slightly, the girl has some inches on me, "Hello Paige!" I can't help the stupid grin that spreads across my face as she leans in to hug me, not like the other girls, I'm encapsulated by both her arms, I swear if I was a cartoon character this is the moment my eyes would turn into red love hearts. Her scent was different from KKs, more vanilla-y, musky almost, warm.

"First time in Huskies calls for one thing: INITIATION SHOTS!" Nika says pulling me from Paige and leading me to the bar, her hands on my shoulders.

Once we all have a shot in our hands, Nika looks at me, "Ok one fact about you that no one knows!" She says pursing her lips.

God, the list was endless.

"I'm allergic to nuts." That was the most mundane fact that came to my mind.

"And not just the food kind!" Kelsey exclaims making the girls laugh before we knock back our shots.

Kelseys joke seemed to either go over everyones head or life really was different here in Connecticut and no one hated me because I was gay. Either way I felt comfortable around these girls, welcomed and it was a nice feeling.

I was reaching my limit but still found myself stumbling slightly towards the bar.

"Easy there." A hand grabbed my elbow balacing me before I was able to steady myself. "Thank you." I giggled and my words came out slurred.

I had definitely reached my limit but I waved the bar man over. "Vodka cranberry please!" I ordered feeling the hand move from my elbow to my lower back.

Who the hell was this?

I turned my gaze to my left seeing a guy slightly taller than me with brown shaggy hair smirking down at me. With one hand occupied on my lower back, the other dug into his pocket and he pulled out his card, "Let me get this for you." He says as he goes to pay for my drink. "No, it's OK." I say simply, trying to shrug him off. "Let me." He insists pulling me closer to him.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable when I felt his arm get yanked off of me, "She said it's OK, bro." Paige had inserted herself between me and the creep and gave him a light shove away. "Are you OK?" She asks looking at me sincerely, brows furrowed together. I nod, "I'm fine." I say as I pay for my drink. "Are you sure?" She double checks. "I promise, Paige. I've dealt with worse than a drunk guy in a bar." I reassure her. "As long as you're OK." She says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the table her teammates were once gathered around.

Paige sits down at the booth and I intently watch as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and reajusted her t-shirt.

"You like what you see?" Paige is smirking now and I've been caught red handed.

"I um- I-"

Pull yourself together Lily!

"I wasn't staring." I defend myself lazily. Paige laughs, "But you were staring in the gym earlier." She says matter of factly, raising her brows at me.

I feel my cheeks burn, well and truly red handed.

"What?" Is all I can manage as a response.

"The walls are mirrored babe, just because you were behind me doesn't mean I didn't see you." If it was even possible, my cheeks got hotter with embarrassment.

"Cocky much?" I taunt the basketball player before taking a long, needed sip of my drink.

"When it makes you this flustered, yes." She says reaching out for my wrist, pulling me to sit next to her.

We're so close our legs are touching and I can smell the mix of vanilla and musk again. "Tell me something about yourself Lily. Something other than your allergy to nuts...not just the food kind." Oh god.

I muster every sober fibre inside of me to think of something that doesn't qualify as a trauma dump. I look down at my hands, the bracelet Kelsey gifted me earlier poking out of the bottom of my sleeve.

"I joined a club!" I say waving my arm up showing off the bracelet.

"Oh yeah, what club?" Paige questions, head slightly tilted. "Single sisters!" I say proudly. "It's just me and Kelsey at the moment but we made a pact to stay single all of junior year." I tell Paige about mine and my roommate's promise to each other.

She hooks a finger through the bracelet, her knuckle grazing my skin softly, and tugs gently. "Hey!" I pull my arm away afraid she'll break the delicate thread. "What are you doing?" I frown. "Just checking how secure that thing is." She looks at me with that god forsaken eye contact that she's so good at. "Wouldn't want it breaking." She says eyes still locked onto mine.

"Lilyyyyy." I begrudgingly look away from Paige to see Madison practically being held up by Kelsey and Hannah.

I thought I was drunk.

"I think it's home time." Paige says into my ear, her breath hot on my neck.

"Hi Mads." I say standing up, ignoring the fact Paiges breath had spiked my heart rate. "I think we should get her home." Hannah says and I nod turning to grab my bag.

Well, well, well.

I catch Paige, staring, right at me, I smirk to myself.

One point to Lily.

I bend slightly to pick my bag up off the table, "Looks like we both have a staring problem." I say quiet enough for just Paige to hear and quickly turn on my heel following my friends out of the bar.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[nhlclover]

NOT OVER YOU | TREVOR ZEGRAS

word count: 1.44k

summary: your childhood friend comes home, digging up old feelings once felt for him

warnings: slight drinking, kissing, use of 'y/f/i' which stands for 'your first initial'

Trevor Zegras is a boy you never forget.

Growing up next door to him, he was always in my life. From preschool to middle school, we were friends, spending most moments of the day together. Over time, I found myself being drawn to the boy that lived next door to me. I quickly figured, however, that my crush was one-sided. I did my best to forget my crush but failed to do so.

Even as the years passed and boyfriends have come and gone from my life, my crush on Trevor has always sat in the backseat.

When my mom told me Trevor was coming back to New York for a few weeks in the summer, I was excited. Though those feelings were promptly replaced by ones of nervousness when she informed me he had been invited for dinner at our house.

Seeing him walk up my driveway brings back memories of when we were kids, him doing the same to come and ask me if I wanted to go for a bike ride or hang out in my treehouse. We spent every moment of every summer together.

“Y/n/n. I can’t believe it.” He says. Trevor scoops me up spinning me around once.

“Trevor put me down!” I shriek.

He does so, setting me down, and looking down at me. He’s several inches taller than the last time I saw him, and has definitely put on muscle. Seeing him in front of me I am promptly reminded of my feelings for my best friend. My childhood crush has only grown into something stronger as we’ve gotten older.

“What?” He asks me.

“You look so different.” I say.

“I could say the same about you.” Trevor says, eyeing me up and down.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I joke.

“It’s good believe me.” He smiles. “God, it’s been so long.”

“Well, you’re the one who lives in California.” I remind.

“Yeah, and you’re the one that decided to go to an ivy league school in fucking Rhode Island.” He jokes.

“Fine, we’re both at fault. Truce?” I ask, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He snorts, shaking my hand, then pulling me into his chest and tossing an arm around my shoulders. We walk into the house, my parents immediately greeting him like he was their own son. My mom brings him in for a tight hug while my dad shakes his hand, asking about hockey and handing him a beer. We eat dinner, Trevor charming my mother by complimenting her cooking.

“I don’t know why you never dated Trevor, he’s much more polite than any of the guys you’ve brought home before.” My mom says.

“Mom, seriously?” I ask, my cheeks heating up. I dare to look over at Trevor who has an intrigued look on his face.

“You’ve been bringing guys home, huh?” He asks.

“Only two!” I say in defence. “And that was in my first year!”

“That is true. None since.” My mother nods. “So I still have hope for the two of you.”

I groan, burrowing my gaze in my food, missing Trevor’s smile and looking in my direction. We wrap up dinner, Trevor and I clearing the table while my parents put out dessert. Not long after, my parents retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone. Trevor and I crack open a second beer each and sit down at the kitchen table, catching up. He tells me about hockey and his new life in Anaheim, while I tell him about life at Brown.

“Oh my god, you guys still have the treehouse?” Trevor asks, looking out the back window in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I refused to let Dad tear it down.” I laugh. “It’s still the same as when we were young.”

“Shut up, really?” Trevor asks, whipping his head at me.

“Yeah, it’s got the 5SOS posters and everything.”

Suddenly Trevor is by the back door, opening it and walking through our backyard to the large oak tree that holds the old treehouse. I follow him, watching as he climbs up the rickety wooden ladder, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Trevor, I don’t know how stable it is!” I call to him.

He ignores me and continues to climb the ladder, opening the hatch at the top and disappearing into the house. I stand at the base of the ladder looking up into the house, seeing Trevor standing at the opening and looking down at me.

“Come up!” He calls.

My brain is dragged back to my childhood, seeing the familiar blonde as I normally would in our summers together. I sigh, beginning to climb the ladder that creaks with every rung I climb. When I climb through the opening, I see Trevor sitting on the wooden pallet couch my dad had made for me when I was young. The couch no longer had cushions and was beginning to decay slightly.

I look around, my chosen artwork still scattered on the walls. 5 Seconds of Summer posters remain on the walls, wilting away, and the blue-painted walls are chipped.

“It still looks the same.” I say softly.

“I mean, yeah if the interior of the treehouse went through an apocalypse.” Trevor says, looking around.

I roll my eyes, sitting beside Trevor on the wooden couch. “God, we used to spend so much time in here.” I say.

“Wait.” Trevor says suddenly, standing up and going to the oak tree that shoots through the centre of the treehouse. He scans the wood, seemingly looking for something.

“I found it!” He says, waving me over.

I stand by his side, looking at where his finger is touching the tree. Above it, ‘T + y/f/i’ is faintly etched into the wood. “Oh my God, I forgot about that.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

When Trevor and I were 11 there was a two-week period that we “dated”. I use the word dated loosely as it was barely a relationship, and Trevor and I never kissed.

“I was heartbroken when you dumped me.” Trevor joked.

“Oh sure you were.” I roll my eyes, going to sit down.

He comes around the tree, finishing off his beer. “I truly was.”

I shake my head, laughing at him. “You don’t believe me?” He asks, sitting down beside me.

“Don’t even, Trevor.” I look over at him, seeing him staring intently at me. His blue eyes are still just as piercing as they were when we were young. Still just as captivating.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing.” He says.

“No, no. Tell me.” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He stares back with a smirk tugging on his lips.

“When you smile, your lips still hook to the left.” He says.

It’s an odd quirk I have and everyone still points it out to me. When I smile, the left side of my mouth goes higher than the right, giving me a crooked smile. I grew up hating it. “Ugh, don’t point it out.” I say, covering my lips with my hand.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling my hand down.

His eyes are delicate as he looks into mine. Suddenly he sits up, leaning forward, and connecting our lips. I hear the empty bottle fall from his hand, clinking as it hits the floor. Trevor’s hands come up to my face, softly holding me there. Before I can kiss him back, his lips pull back. I open my eyes, finding his looking straight into mine.

We sit there momentarily, neither one of us finding the words we want to say. I decide to let actions speak for themselves, leaning back into Trevor, and connecting our lips once again. His tongue sweeps past my lips as I part them, granting him access. My hands press against his chest for stability, his slipping down to my waist, pulling me into him.

I gasp softly as I pull away, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes once more. “You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Trevor says softly, still slightly gasping in between words.

“Really?” I ask, our foreheads still pressed together.

“I have never not wanted you, y/n.” Trevor says. “Seriously. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

“But, all these years… I thought we were just friends?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” I quickly shake my head at his words. Trevor kisses me again, smiling against my lips. We break apart, matching smiles on our faces. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I giggle at my childhood dream coming true finally.

[crushh-existz]

Hot & Heavy (1)

childhoodbestfriend!ellie x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: Before you went to university in NYC, you and your childhood bestfriend, Ellie, had a pretty messy fight and haven't talked since. Dina convinced you to move back to Jackson after you graduated to get some work just until you can settle down in a nearby city. You needed the money while you soft-launched your photograghy business and you missed your friends and family anyway. Dina swears up and down that Ellie moved away years ago and you were stupid enough to trust her.

Warnings: cursing (more to come probably..), NOT PROOFREAD, men dni

1 Month Prior…

"Calm down babes, like I said, she moved out of Joel's like two years ago!" You sighed into your phone as you held it to your ear.

"I dunno Dina... Even if she's not in town, what if I bump into Joel? Like would he think I'm just this evil monster who's praying on his family's downfall??" Dina scoffed on the other side of the line.

"You're actually hopeless oh my god. No way you're saying this to me right now."

"UH-? You never can be to cautious." You could feel her eyes rolling through the phone.

"Trust me you're fine. Besides, Joel has been out a lot lately. He's always down at the lake hunting, even I have barely seen him." You sat silent for a moment, shifting on the metal bench of the bus stop. "I miss you girl, everything will be okay. I can't wait to see you home, JJ has been waiting for you too!"

You sighed. "Yeah... You're right. How's JJ been?"

"Great actually! Jesse's parents have been helping me a lot actually. He actually started preschool a week ago." You couldn't help yourself from smiling to yourself.

“Really? Oh my god is he already that old…” Dina laughed into the phone and replied with a 'mhmm'. You sigh before looking up and finding the city bus sitting just before you. "Shit- I gotta go the bus just got here. Bye girl- I'll see you in a bit."

11.09 6:26 A.M. - Your POV

It's been a few weeks since you got back to Jackson. If you're completely honest, being back here made you hot in the face. It was nostalgic really seeing old townsfolk and you didn't realize how much you actually missed all of them. Thankfully no signs of Joel or Ellie. You did see Maria and the market but it didn't seem like she saw you.

You sighed, laying your head onto your desk. You've been editing photos from a recent trip to the lake with Dina for the past half an hour now and finally got the lighting to look how you wanted. You checked the time and cursed under your breath once you realized your first shift at the local cafe you applied to was starting soon. You slid your headphones over your ears to go get ready.

11.09 7:16 A.M. - Ellie's POV

Ellie sighed as she trudged behind Joel going to get his morning coffee before he would drag her out to hunt. She didn't really enjoy the idea of spending hours in the mountain snow staring at some animals until he finally choose one to make into his next meal.

"Y'know there's a grocery store across the street I can just grab some meat-"

"Kiddo, some time in your lifetime you need to learn patience and what better example than hunting?"

"I just-"

Ellie was cut off by Joel walking up to the register and ordering his classic black coffee. Ellie really couldn't understand how he could drink that crap but who was she to judge anyway. She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders as she looked around the cozy shop. She didn't drop by often due to her lack of reason to. Just occasionally when Dina requests or when Joel needs her to pick up his order before he goes out to work.

She noticed small things like the fairy lights hung over the bathroom door and the small vines adorning the walls of the small shop. She also watched the workers as she zoned out the bustling of the people in the shop. Her eyes drifted from the man taking Joel's order to the girl standing before the glass display and taking photos of small pastries. She lingered her gaze on her, watching her focus on what she seems to be doing, which also made her look like a huge creep but she really couldn't tear her attention away and she couldn't figure out why.

She brushed it off as she pried her eyes away and follows Joel out of the cafe with his now acquired coffee. They left with a chime of the entrance door and started walking to Joel's pick-up.

"Hey kiddo, was that who I thought it was?" Joel asks before he takes an audible sip of his coffee. Ellie thinks about his question for a little ask she adjusted her leather jacket that she borrowed (permanently stole) from him.

“Mmm… What do you mean?” Frosty puffs of air float about as she asks him, reaching behind her to grab her water bottle from the side of her backpack she wore.

“That looked like that one friend you never seem to talk about anymore. Few years ago she was all you seemed to talk about. Never remembered her name though..” Joel seemed to ponder while the gears turned inside of poor Ellie’s brain as she brought the bottle to her mouth and just started to take a sip of her drink.

Realization hit her like a bus once she got to the passanger door of Joel's pickup, stopping in her tracks and starting to choke on her fail attempt at drinking. Joel looked at her confused and a bit worried.

"...Kiddo? You alright..?" Joel asked with furrowed brows as he peered over at her over the top of the pickup, basically just the messy auburn peaking over. She hastily got into the truck chucking her backpack into the footwell of the car. As he followed suit he watched as she messily wiped her face.

"... Yup- Just.. Went down the wrong pipe." He shrugged it off as he pushed the key into the ignition and decided to drop it.

"Whatever you say kid."

11.09 8:12 A.M - Your POV

Work was slow today, which you understood since you assumed finals were creeping up on students. That was one thing you do NOT miss since graduating and you're glad to be free from such hell. While your coworker was out in the front making sure to serve the few customers that did sprinkle in, you were in the back looking over the product photos your boss requested to take. Yes, it was for free, but it would be good for reference for future clients. Baby steps, was what you were telling yourself.

As you looked over them, you actually found yourself proud your work! Maybe you could fix the lighting a bit-- But nothing Adobe Workshop couldn't fix! You did accidentally catch some customers in the back of some photos but you could just easily cut them out.

While looking over one particular photo you took of a small coffee cup, steam visibly exiting the top of the cup, camera panned towards to the front glass door to get a blurred affect of two customers. She didn't realize she captured them in the moment but she saw a tall older man with a young woman beside him. They had their backs turned, exiting the cafe as he sipped his newly brewed coffee.

Funny how they looked familiar.

09/11 9:57 A.M. - Ellie's POV

The whole car ride Ellie was quiet other than shortened responses to Joel's lecturing on a subject she couldn't quite remember. As her thoughts raced it felt like hot blood pulsing in her veins, heavy memories weighing on her brain. Really, she thought she would never see your face ever again after everything she said to you. She really didn't understand why it took her so long to recognize you. Maybe it was the way you seemed a lot less scared of the world, the way you comfortable took up more space like you knew you belonged. Maybe it was the loose curls you let adorn the frame of your face, the curls she remembers you burning to a crisp just to be straight.

"It's so hard to maintain, does it look like I have that type of time?" Was what you would quip back whenever Ellie had pleaded to let your natural hair show at least once. She always thought it was pretty and suited you better than the straight hair people have bullied you into wearing in high school.

Joel snapped her out of her endless thinking by stopping the car, signaling they have arrived. Joel looked over to her as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Ready?"

Ellie replied with a small 'mhmm' before grabbing her bag and stepping out of the pick up.

11.09 2:43 P.M - Ellie's POV

—

A/N: LAWDDD omg i forgor about this until moot told me to hurry tf up... THERES GONNA BE MULTIPLE PARTS cuz lowk.. forgor what i was doing with this but trust ill figure it out. I DOUBT THERES GONNA BE MORE THAN 5 PARTS. i hope i did okay cuz lowk never done this b4.... OKAY BYE HOPE YOU LIKED ITTT lemme know what to improve on bc trust i need it...

Inspired by the lyrics of this song!! (the song's meaning is nowhere near what this fic is abt but it's just how I thought abt it..)

[welldonebeca]

You Came Back to Me (1)

Summary: On the anniversary of 20 years of their first date, Rhaenyra and Daemon remember it in a very nice way. (Set in August 2024) Warnings: Modern AU. Fluff. Smut. Married Daemyra.

Enjoy Modern Targaryens? Check my 'Keeping Up With the Targaryens' series.

Daemon’s mind was already on next year’s celebration.

Rhaenyra had just turned 39, so next year they needed to have something significant. They had to invite the whole family, get some side entertainment for the kids... of course, Daemon’s gift to her would have to be the biggest so far.

August was a very important month for them. They’d had their legal marriage just days before Rhaenyra’s birthday, and today was the anniversary of their first real date together. Of course, they didn’t celebrate all of these events individually. Their real marriage, in front of the gods, was in July, and their date was a sweet memory. They were much too busy to do something about it when they’d just celebrated Rhaenyra’s birthday.

“Daddy!” Joff called. “Can we listen to Bluey music?”

Daemon looked at the kids through the rearview mirror.

“Of course.” he confirmed.

‘Bluey music’ was their term for classical music. If there was anything Daemon was grateful for in that dog show, it was how it actually taught his kids to enjoy classical music. It was unexpected, but it was nice. He started 'The Planets' from the car playlist – they had just paused it on 'Mercury'. It was a pleasant surprise to realise his young sons had introduced him to Gustav Holst.

Daemon hoped a little bit that of them was musically inclined, but so far no one had asked for anything, and they just liked listening to the pieces.

He chuckled when Joff and Eggy tried to mimic different instruments with their voices, as adorably off-key as kids tended to be. They had already dropped Viserys at preschool first, the building much closer to their home than the boys’ elementary school. They were all run by the same board, but somehow everything was apart.

Something something phases, something something stage…

At least it worked well. The kids were quite independent and curious and eager to learn more.

Of course, all of this also meant that they were officially in a house with no children from nine in the morning to two in the afternoon for the first time since… well, since forever!

Daemon had married Rhaenyra when Joff was a few months old, and by the time he was off to preschool, they had Eggy; and by the time Eggy was off to preschool, they had Viserys! A silent day at their house existed exactly once – when their older kids were in Westeros, and they were making Aegon.

But here he was, dropping off the last two kids before going home to work in a house with no children. The sound of his phone ringing made him frown a bit.

Rhaenyra?

He pressed the button on the panel screen.

“Hello,” he greeted her.

“Are we in the car?” his wife asked sweetly.

That made him smile a little bit.

“We are,” he confirmed. “Is this an extended goodbye to the little dragons?”

“Mama!” the boys echoed.

“Hello, my little dragons,” Rhaenyra greeted them happily. “Just calling to say I hope you have the best day at school today! Listen to your teachers and play nicely with your friends, and remember that Mama loves you very much.”

“We will, Mama!” Joff and Eggy chorused.

“I might pick you up later today,” she told them. “And we can play games in the car, what do you think?”

The boys agreed very loudly and very excitedly.

Daemon parked up.

“Alright, we’re in school grounds,” he announced. “Say bye to mama.”

“Bye, mama!”

“Goodbye, my sweet boys,” she answered back. “I love you!”

“We love you!”

Daemon got them out of the car quickly, and the teacher’s assistant was already by the door, waiting for them.

“Goodbye, goodbye, have a nice day,” he gave them their backpacks. “I love you, don’t break any bones.”

They walked off, and he watched them go before getting into the car, and he’d just closed the door when he heard his wife’s voice again.

“I suppose we are alone now?” she asked, the warmth maternal tone of her voice gone now.

Daemon raised his eyebrows.

“As alone as we can be in a moving car,” he lowered the volume. “Is anything wrong?”

Had anything happened in the family that the kids couldn’t know?

“Well...” his wife dragged the word. “I…”

He waited, raising his eyebrows as he drove off.

“You?”

“I was just seeing some pictures,” his wife spoke, a little bit dismissive. “Old pictures.”

Daemon frowned. Pictures?

“Our wedding pictures?” he asked.

They had just celebrated their 9th anniversary. That was a bit of time ago, though he wouldn’t really think of them as ‘old pictures’.

“No,” she dragged the word. “A bit… older.”

His frown deepened. Was she breathless?

“From when?” he asked, looking out to the street before making a turn.

His wife let out a little sight and his whole body became alerted.

He knew that little sound of hers.

But… that couldn’t be.

“When we went to the club...” she sighed so lazily, and her voice slightly. “My love.”

A moan. A delicious moan over his phone.

“Rhaenyra,” he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “What are you doing?”

She let out a mixture of a moan and laugh that travelled down straight into his cock, already hardening up from hearing her.

“You asked me the same thing, uncle,” she moaned, and he bit down his lip, looking around the road.

He was fucking far from home, what did she think she was doing?

Daemon pressed his foot down on the speed pedal, dodging a couple of cars.

“What are you doing, Rhaenyra?” she moaned. “And you remember what I said? I need you, uncle.”

He stiffened completely.

Fuck, how could he ever forge that fucking day?

It was what had put in his mind the idea of taking her out, that call.

“I need you,” she pleaded on the other side of the line, like she'd done before. “Uncle, please?”

It was the biggest temptation of his life, not crossing that stupid corridor and locking himself in his room to give in to the endless desire he had for her, not break the vow he’d made to himself about not tainting her with his wickedness.

But she was his wife now, and she could be just as wicked as Daemon was.

“You better not be doing what I think you’re doing, my queen,” he tried to keep his focus.

He had to get home soon, but also safely.

“Please, uncle?” she moaned, and he could hear something buzzing by her side.

Her vibrator.

“Are you coming home?” she moaned more. “Are you close?”

“I’m trying,” he exhaled, squirming, feeling his pants fully tight now.

“Don’t speed,” she giggled.

“You are not making that easy,” he chastised her.

His wife held her breath for a moment and moaned a long, slow sound, and he sped up the car at a yellow light.

“Rhaenyra,” he clenched his teeth, ready to rip out the fucking steering wheel. “You better not be fucking my pussy."

She moaned more, and he saw red. That teasing brat.

“What are you doing?” he growled, turning the last curve to their neighbourhood.

“Touching myself,” she panted. “I need you so much, uncle, I can’t wait, please?”

“Where?”

She laughed a little again, and that only made him even more furious.

“My...” she stuttered. “Your pussy.”

Daemon exhaled.

“Good little princess,” he drove down their street. “You’re right, it is mine. So why, I wonder, are you playing with my favourite toy?”

He didn’t need to stop before crossing their gates, security had already opened them for him.

“Because I need you,” she whined.

Daemon bit down a groan.

“I’m parking the fucking car,” he warned her. “And if I get into our room and I find those fingers inside you, you’re gonna suffer the consequences.”

She outrightly laughed.

“Welcome home,” his dear wife wished him.

And she hung up.

Keep reading it on AO3.