#guess what I was watching when I made this answer

[atlas-of-andromeda]

Because I can, I'm answering all of them.

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Alot of things, obviously, but if I had to pick, I'd say:

Being straight up bullied for expressing interest in things growing up by my brother

Being largely a social outcast for most of my life

And video games

show us a picture of your handwriting?

Yes, I know it looks like shit.

For any curious, it's the lyrics to Does The Swallow Dream Of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake that I wrote at school a few days ago because it was stuck in my head but I was in math so I couldn't listen to it.

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

Wolfwalkers

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Heathers (1989)

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

Piss

(It's a long story)

what made you start your blog?

P.M. Seymour

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

Best? The anonymity of it.

Worse? The anonymity of it.

what scares you the most and why?

People hating me. I couldn't tell you why even if I wanted to.

any recurring dreams?

Sometimes I have this dream where I'm in a massive... sinkhole? I guess? That's covered entirely in moss, grass, trees, and miscellaneous foliage. There's also a waterfall somewhere in it. Everytime I have the dream it's dark, little light making it to where I am from the surface. I'm stood on this little cliff edge on the side of the hole, and everytime I look over the edge, and fall. And the dream ends there. I've had it at seemingly random intervals throughout the past... maybe nine-ish years?

There's also this dream I consistently have once, every four years. Where I'm awake in my bedroom at like... maybe 04:00 or something. And it's the early winter, snow just dusting the ground. I leave my room and the washroom door is open, light on, but all other lights are off. I walk over to the entranceway, and I can hear my mother screaming from the basement. I proceed to leave through the backdoor. I walk out into the front yard and my brother is there, and the lights on my family's car are on.

It gets a little fuzzy from then on, but I know that at some point I go back inside and there's a spoon - like the utensil - is important is some capacity. And at some point the dream suddenly switches into another, unrelated dream; where I'm laying on my back, on the floor of a massive almost warehouse-like building, completely empty, and except of the white and grey metal normally in warehouses, this building is made out of wooden planks. There's a giant fan on the roof blowing straight down on me. Balloons are involved at some point.

So... feel free to psychoanalyze me if you so wish!

tell a story about your childhood

One time my family and I were out visiting my grandfather, and there was a large lake near where he lived, so we went swimming. Now, I was like, five or six when this happened; I was very small (still am, but less so). And my older brother (by like four years) was walking out into the lake, and I was following him, because I did that sometimes when I was younger. And because he was (and still is) a lot bigger than me, he went out just fine. But because I was so small, the water picked me up and flipped me over, and I started drowning. My parents came to the rescue (my brother ignored me (dick)).

would you say you’re an emotional person?

I've gotten better in the last year or two, but yes.

what do you consider to be romance?

Couldn't tell you if I tried.

what’s some good advice you want to share?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what are you doing right now?

Typing shit on Tumblr.

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

Come out.

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

A house.

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I'd make myself braver and less of of a push-over

name 3 things that make you happy

Music, drawing, walking in nature

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

Nope. Not even kinda.

favourite thing about the day?

Being on the bus to and from school. I'm not at school or my house and I get to talk with my friend.

favourite things about the night?

Nobody bothers you. You are left alone for hours on end. It's the only time you get peace.

are you a spiritual person?

Nope.

say 3 things about someone you love

You're always making such shit comments about LGBT+ and minority people, and I can't say anything in retort. You make it easy to forget what a shit person you are, and I'm happy until you make one of those comments again. You're the only person who seems to care about me, even if I know that that if I were to be honest with you that'd change in a second.

say 3 things about someone you hate

You can't shut up for five seconds and give me peace and quiet. You've ruined my life in so many ways for so long. I can't wait for you to be gone.

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

Going on for this long.

fave season and why?

Autumn. Cold, but not frostbite cold. limited amounts of bugs. Pretty colours. :)

fave colour and why?

Red. No reason, just like it.

any nicknames?

Pumpkin - my father.

do you collect anything?

Yeah! Rocks and breadclips! (Random. I know)

what do you do when you’re sad?

Depends. If I'm in public, suck it up until in private. In private, cry and read fanfiction.

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

Music.

are you messy or organized?

Pretty organized.

how many tabs do you have open right now?

...17...

any hobbies?

Drawing, writing, dancing, singing, playing guitar, playing harmonica.

any pet peeves?

People with no volume control.

do you trust easily?

Not really.

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

As many walls as possible.

share a secret

No. :)

fave song at the moment?

Vulture Culture by Fangclub

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

Rendog. Idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

any bad habits?

Biting my nails.

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

what made you start your blog?

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

what scares you the most and why?

any reacquiring dreams?

tell a story about your childhood

would you say you’re an emotional person?

what do you consider to be romance?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

what are you doing right now?

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

name 3 things that make you happy

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

favourite thing about the day?

favourite things about the night?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

say 3 things about someone you hate

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

fave season and why?

fave colour and why?

any nicknames?

do you collect anything?

what do you do when you’re sad?

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

are you messy or organised?

how many tabs do you have open right now?

any hobbies?

any pet peeves?

do you trust easily?

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

share a secret

fave song at the moment?

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

any bad habits?

(this post was stolen from @teenage-mutant-ninja-freak, since it couldn't be reblogged anymore)

[lovecla]

FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader

SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.

WORD COUNT 5,5k

WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.

FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!

𖧷

on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love

but we felt the rush (fell in love)

it made us believe it was only us

THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.

When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.

Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.

The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.

“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”

Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.

Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.

Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.

“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?

Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.

You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.

Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.

“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.

“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”

“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”

“Who told you that?”

“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”

“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”

“I’ll bring the flour.”

𖧷

THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.

You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.

You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.

You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.

“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.

“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“No, you see—”

“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”

There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.

“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.

You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”

You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.

But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.

Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.

Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”

Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.

The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.

There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.

Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.

You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.

They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”

“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.

“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”

There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.

“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.

“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”

“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”

“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”

“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”

You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”

“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”

“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.

You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.

Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.

And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.

So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.

You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”

“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”

Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.

“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”

You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”

“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”

“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.

“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”

“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.

“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.

“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”

“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”

There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.

The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.

“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”

You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.

And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.

So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?

But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.

“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.

Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”

“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.

Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.

You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.

“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”

“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”

“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”

Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.

You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.

So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.

All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.

You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.

“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.

Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.

His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.

It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.

It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.

“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”

And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.

He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.

It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.

“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”

“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”

The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.

Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.

You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.

“Ah.”

“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”

You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.

He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.

Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.

“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”

It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.

“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.

Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.

You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”

You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.

“I need your words, baby.”

“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”

Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”

You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.

“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”

You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.

You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.

“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”

“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”

You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”

After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.

You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.

Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.

Oh.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.

The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.

But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.

“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”

You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.

“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”

The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.

“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”

“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.

Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.

Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.

“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”

And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.

The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.

Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.

“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”

After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.

Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.

Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.

You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.

But—

“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”

“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.

You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.

“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I think I’m hard again.”

“Lowkey, yeah.”

You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.

𖧷

YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.

It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.

“Hi.”

Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.

You frowned.

“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”

It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.

“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.

“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.

“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”

“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.

He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”

He smiled.

“Then we’re fine.” It’s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.

“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”

You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”

He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.

“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”

“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”

“As I said, no fun.”

“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”

Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.

It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.

You had already done it.

NHL MASTERLIST.

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.

QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.

[charmed-quill]

The Bet// F.W x Reader

authors note at end.

summary: Fred Weasley and y/n make a bet: whoever gets a date to the Yule Ball first wins. But what starts as harmless competition devolves into full-blown war.

want to request a fic? CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO

word count: 6.2k

The Yule Ball had been the only thing anyone could talk about for the past few hours. Every conversation in the common room seemed to circle back to it, who was going to ask who, what everyone would wear, and, most importantly, who would end up going alone.

Y/n sat curled up in one of the cushy armchairs by the fire, pretending to be absorbed in her book. The flames flickered, casting a warm glow over the common room, but she wasn’t really reading, she was listening. 

Fred and George were sprawled across the couch nearby, talking in the way they always did: half-serious, half-dramatic, and entirely too loud.

"Everyone’s gonna be in a frenzy tomorrow morning," Fred said, stretching his arms behind his head.

George frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. "How do you mean?"

Fred waved a hand around vaguely. "You know," he said, searching for the right words, "like... everyone’s gonna be scrambling to get a date before all the good ones are taken."

At that, y/n finally glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Why would they be scrambling?" she asked, feigning ignorance even though she already knew the answer.

Fred let out a sigh, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because no one wants to be the last one left without a date," he said, like it was some kind of universal truth. "Gotta snatch up the best options before they’re all gone."

Y/n scoffed, closing her book and resting it on her lap. "Define ‘good ones.’"

Her voice had that familiar teasing edge to it, and she narrowed her eyes just slightly, watching as Fred hesitated for a second too long. He always got flustered when she turned her full attention on him, and she found no small amount of amusement in that.

George, of course, was thoroughly entertained, smirking as he watched Fred try to think of a response.

"You know," Fred said eventually, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Fun ones. People you can actually stand being around for an entire night."

Y/n hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against the cover of her book. "So what, if you wait too long, you’re stuck with someone unbearable?"

Fred opened his mouth, then shut it again, realizing too late that anything he said now could get him into trouble. George chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying watching his twin dig himself into a hole.

"That’s not what I meant," Fred tried to backtrack. "Just" He sighed, shaking his head. "You’re twisting my words."

Y/n grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Am I?"

Fred rolled his eyes, but there was no real frustration behind it. It was just how their dynamic worked, Fred talked too much, and y/n made it her mission to make him regret it.

"So," George cut in, glancing between them. "You’ve got a plan, then? Gonna ask someone first thing in the morning?"

Y/n snorted. "Please. I don’t even know who I’d ask."

Fred raised an eyebrow, tilting his head at her. "You’re kidding."

"Dead serious," y/n said, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Haven’t really thought about it."

George let out a low whistle. "Risky move. Someone might snatch up all the ‘good ones’ before you get the chance."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smirked. "Guess I’ll just have to settle for one of you two, then."

Fred and George exchanged a look before Fred gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Merlin’s beard, George, we’re her last resort!"

George sighed, shaking his head. "Tragic, really."

Y/n laughed, nudging Fred’s foot with her own. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not like either of you have dates yet, either."

Fred opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. "Alright, fair point."

George grinned. "Maybe we should be scrambling."

Y/n stretched her arms over her head before smirking at the twins, her book long forgotten in her lap. "I won’t be scrambling," she said breezily. "I basically have to beat the guys away with a stick."

Fred scoffed loudly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch. "As if." He shot her a challenging grin, that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. "I bet I can get a date before you can even say ‘Yule Ball.’"

Y/n sat up a little straighter, the flicker of competition sparking in her chest. She knew that look, Fred Weasley never backed down from a challenge, and honestly? Neither did she.

"Oh yeah?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You wanna shake on it?"

Fred’s grin widened, his head tilting slightly. "What are the stakes?"

Y/n paused, tapping a finger against her chin as she considered. It had to be something good, something that would really make losing painful.

"Whoever loses has to be the winner’s personal assistant for a week," she finally declared, a smug smile creeping onto her lips. "Anything they need; carrying books, fetching snacks, covering for them when they’re late to class."

George let out a low whistle. "That’s dangerous," he mused, glancing between them with amusement. "I like it."

Fred, however, didn’t even hesitate. He barely took a second to think before sticking his hand out toward her. "You’re on."

Y/n grinned as she clasped his hand firmly, shaking it once. The deal was set.

As she leaned back in her chair, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This wasn’t just about getting a date anymore, this was about winning. And if there was one thing she loved just as much as messing with Fred Weasley, it was beating him at his own game.

—

The next morning, y/n was up before the sun had fully risen, determination settling deep in her chest.

She was going to win this bet.

She was going to win this bet and rub it in Fred’s stupid, smug face.

Her uniform was neat, her tie perfectly knotted, and her shoes freshly shined as she practically bounced down the stairs toward the Great Hall. The air was crisp, and the halls were still relatively empty, most students weren’t quite awake yet, dragging themselves toward breakfast like they were being led to execution.

Not her, though. She had a plan.

Sliding into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, she ate with purpose, shoveling food into her mouth while her mind worked through her options. She started categorizing potential dates, ranking them from most to least likely to say yes.

She briefly considered asking George, he’d say yes in a heartbeat, if only to reap the benefits of her inevitable victory, but she scrapped the idea just as quickly. Where was the fun in that? No, she wanted to win properly.

By the time the Great Hall had started filling up with groggy students, she had made her decision.

Daniel Scott, a Hufflepuff in her year, was her best shot. It was no secret he fancied her, and she had a feeling he’d jump at the opportunity to go with her. 

Easy.

Just as she was about to finalize her approach, a familiar presence slid into the seat beside her. 

Fred.

He was as casual as ever, hair still slightly tousled from sleep, his tie half done like he couldn’t be bothered to fix it properly. He snatched up her half-full glass of orange juice, finishing it off with a satisfied sigh before turning to her with that lazy, infuriatingly confident smile.

"Are you preparing yourself for defeat?" he asked, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "I take my tea with extra milk, by the way, since you’ll be fetching it for me all next week."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You’re awfully cocky for someone who hasn’t even secured a date yet."

Fred just grinned wider, leaning in slightly. "Neither have you."

She shot him a smirk, picking up a piece of toast as she stood from the table. "Give it ten minutes."

With that, she sauntered off, feeling Fred’s gaze follow her as she made her way toward the Hufflepuff table. 

Game on.

Daniel," y/n said, her voice sweet as honey as she shot the boy a dazzling smile.

He froze, mid-bite into his toast, eyes widening like a deer caught in wandlight.

This was going to be easy.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the ball with me?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, letting just the right amount of charm seep into her voice.

Daniel gulped, his fingers tightening around his fork. His eyes darted around the table, as if searching for an escape.

"I—uh, well—" His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he suddenly found great interest in the surface of the table.

Y/n frowned, confused by his hesitation. This was Daniel Scott. The same Daniel Scott who had stammered through at least three separate compliments about her hair just last week. The same Daniel Scott who could barely meet her eyes without turning pink. There was absolutely no reason he wouldn’t say yes.

Unless

Her stomach dropped as Daniel cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "I, um, I heard from—uh, someone that you—er—only asked me because you lost a bet."

Y/n blinked, her head jerking back slightly. "What?"

"I just—I mean, it’s fine if you did," Daniel rushed to say, still avoiding her gaze. "I just—Fred Weasley mentioned something about it before breakfast, and—uh—I just don’t want to be anyone’s backup plan."

Her entire body went still.

Fred.

That absolute menace.

Y/n clenched her jaw, inhaling deeply through her nose before forcing a tight-lipped smile. "I see. Well, thanks anyway, Daniel."

Before he could stammer out another apology, she turned on her heel and marched straight back to the Gryffindor table.

Fred was right where she left him, lounging in his seat like he hadn’t just completely sabotaged her. He was halfway through a piece of toast when he caught sight of her storming toward him.

"You," she hissed, planting her hands on the table as she loomed over him. "Sabotage? Really?"

Fred grinned, entirely unbothered as he leaned back. "Oh, come on, love. You didn’t seriously think I’d play fair, did you?"

She narrowed her eyes, fuming. "That was a dirty play, Weasley."

He shrugged. "It was never off the table."

Y/n exhaled sharply, crossing her arms as she reevaluated everything. Clearly, she had underestimated just how far Fred was willing to go to win this bet.

Fine. If that was how he wanted to play, she’d just have to get creative.

And she would win.

—

The Great Hall had been cleared of its usual long tables, the enchanted ceiling above a dull gray as a storm brewed outside. The Gryffindor students, fourth years and above, stood in two separate lines, girls on one side, boys on the other. The air buzzed with hushed conversations, a mix of excitement and dread hanging between them.

Professor McGonagall was saying something about lions and swans, but y/n wasn’t listening.

She was too busy plotting.

Fred’s little stunt with Daniel still had her seething, and if he thought she was just going to take the loss quietly, he had severely underestimated her.

Fred had made his move first, and now it was her turn.

She spotted him cutting across the floor toward Angelina, steps sure and confident. Oh, no. That wouldn’t do at all.

Without hesitation, she swooped in, looping her arms around him and settling his hands on her waist before he could protest.

Fred blinked in surprise before narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Y/n smiled up at him. "Playing the game."

His fingers twitched against her waist. "And what exactly is your next move?"

She shrugged, shifting slightly as the music picked up. "Haven’t decided yet. But I figured a little sabotage was in order."

Fred let out a huff, his lips quirking. "So, your grand retaliation is stealing me as a dance partner? That’s weak, y/l/n."

"Not stealing," she corrected smugly. "Intercepting."

He chuckled. "Ah, I see. Is that what you were doing with Daniel earlier? Intercepting?"

Her smile tightened as she shot him a glare. "Oh, you mean the boy you so graciously warned about my ulterior motives?"

Fred smirked. "Oh, did I do that? Hm. Must’ve slipped out."

"Sabotage wasn’t part of the deal, Weasley."

"Wasn’t excluded either."

Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head as they spun in time with the music. "You really don’t fight fair, do you?"

"Absolutely not," he admitted easily. "And neither should you, if you want to win."

Y/n hummed, as if considering. "Noted."

Fred tilted his head slightly. "So what’s next, then? Surely you didn’t just drag me away from Angelina to lecture me on fair play."

She smiled, slow and deliberate. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Fred eyed her, lips twitching. "Oh, I would."

They moved across the floor smoothly, the space between them filled with unspoken challenges. Y/n glanced at his tie, still barely holding itself together, as if he had done it in a hurry that morning. Typical.

With a smirk, she reached up, fingers deftly undoing the sloppy knot and tightening it properly.

Fred stilled slightly, brow furrowing. "What are you—"

"Fixing it," she muttered, patting his chest once satisfied. "Honestly, Fred, do you even try?"

"Not when I have someone to do it for me," he quipped, grinning.

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping back as the music faded. "Enjoy the dance, Weasley. I’ve got work to do."

She turned on her heel and strode off, already formulating her next move.

Fred watched her go, adjusting the tie she had just fixed. He shook his head with a quiet chuckle, already anticipating whatever chaos she had planned next.

—-

Fred was feeling good about Amelia Roberts.

Smart, sharp-witted, and completely unaware of his ongoing war with y/n.

She was laughing at something he’d said, her blue eyes twinkling under the candlelight of the courtyard lanterns. Progress.

Fred leaned against the stone railing, flashing his signature smirk. "So, what do you say, Roberts? Yule Ball with me? Best decision you’ll make all year."

Amelia smiled, tilting her head in consideration.

And then

Two warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Fred stiffened.

"Oh, there you are, sweetheart!"

His stomach dropped.

No.

Absolutely not.

Y/n practically melted into his side, resting her head against his shoulder with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

Fred didn’t even have time to react before she turned her sweetest, most innocent smile toward Amelia.

"Oh, Amelia!" y/n gushed, gripping Fred’s arm like he was the love of her life. "I love that you and Freddie are such good friends! Ever since we started secretly dating, I was so worried that people would suspect, but you—" she clasped a hand over her heart, voice dripping with sincerity, "you have been so supportive!"

Fred choked. "What—NO—"

Amelia’s entire expression changed in an instant.

Her smile vanished, replaced with suspicion. "Secretly dating?"

Fred tried to pull away from y/n, but she only tightened her grip, shooting him a warning glance that said if you move, I will make this worse.

Her head tilted slightly as she turned to him, eyes suddenly filled with mock devastation.

"Freddie," she whispered, voice breaking just a little. "Are you ashamed of us?"

Fred froze.

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

He looked back at Amelia, who now had her arms firmly crossed, her gaze icy.

"No," Fred said quickly, "no, I am absolutely NOT dating her—"

"Freddie!" y/n gasped, turning every single pair of eyes in the courtyard onto them. "I cannot believe you would deny me like this! After all we’ve been through?"

Fred was actually speechless. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again—but nothing came out.

Y/n sighed dramatically, looking to Amelia as if she were the only one who could understand her pain.

"You have to forgive him," y/n said solemnly. "It’s just… so difficult for him. The constant attention, the pressure of keeping this a secret… He wanted to tell people" she sniffled, "really, he did"

"Yeah, I don’t do cheaters," Amelia muttered, already stepping away.

Fred’s entire body jerked forward in panic. "Wait—no, I—"

But Amelia had already turned on her heel and walked away.

Fred stood there, still partially trapped in y/n’s grasp, his brain short-circuiting from what had just happened.

Slowly, his head turned toward her.

Y/n beamed up at him, looking immensely pleased with herself.

She patted his shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Oops."

Fred exhaled deeply. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t," y/n said, sing-songing as she walked away.

Fred groaned, slumping against the railing.

He needed a new plan. Immediately.

—

Y/n had spent the entire morning planning her approach. She’d decided that Thomas Greaves, a quiet but friendly Ravenclaw, would be her best shot. He wasn’t the type to make a huge fuss, and she figured she had a pretty solid chance at getting a yes.

She spotted him just outside the Great Hall, standing near the entrance, looking over a rolled-up parchment, probably last-minute homework. Perfect.

Straightening her tie and putting on her most charming smile, she strode toward him with confidence.

"Hey, Thomas!" she greeted brightly, tucking her hands behind her back as she rocked on her heels. "Got a second?"

Thomas looked up, blinking behind his glasses. "Oh—uh, yeah. What’s up?"

Y/n grinned, already sensing victory. "So, I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Before Thomas could even process what she was saying, a familiar arm slung itself over his shoulder.

"Oi, Tommy boy!"

Y/n’s stomach dropped.

Fred.

Of course it was Fred.

"Mate, I haven’t seen you all morning," Fred said, giving Thomas a heavy pat on the back, his voice dripping with fake concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Thomas frowned. "Uh—yeah? I think so?"

Fred gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, thank Merlin! When I heard about your—" he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "condition, I thought you’d still be in the hospital wing!"

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Fred, don’t you have somewhere else to be?"

Fred ignored her, turning back to Thomas with a solemn nod. "Bravest bloke I know," he said. "I mean, most people wouldn’t even show their face after spotted wandrot."

Thomas froze. "Spotted what?"

Fred sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Oh, mate, no need to be embarrassed. Madam Pomfrey said she’d never seen a case spread so quickly. And to think, you’re walking around like nothing happened." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Inspiring, really."

Y/n clenched her jaw. "Fred—"

"Though, of course," Fred continued thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "it is highly contagious. Wouldn’t want to pass that on, right?"

Thomas visibly paled.

"Wait—what? I—I don’t have—"

Fred gasped. "Oh no! Did Pomfrey not tell you? I thought she was supposed to give you the full debrief." He turned to y/n, shaking his head. "You’d think they’d at least warn the poor guy before sending him off to infect the whole school."

Thomas took a full step away from both of them, his expression stricken. "I—I have to go—"

Before y/n could stop him, Thomas bolted into the Great Hall like a man fleeing for his life.

She stood there in stunned silence, processing what had just happened.

Then she turned, eyes blazing, to Fred, who stood beside her looking utterly pleased with himself.

"You," she seethed. "Are the worst."

Fred smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Better luck next time, love."

And with that, he sauntered off, whistling a cheerful tune, leaving y/n fuming on the steps of the Great Hall.

–

Fred had been extra careful this time. He had barely spoken about his next move to anyone, not even George, not even Lee. He was playing this one quietly, which, for him, was practically impossible.

But he wasn’t about to let y/n get the better of him again.

That’s why he’d chosen Lily Carter, a friendly and straightforward ravenclaw who, as far as he could tell, had zero history with y/n and no reason to get caught in the crossfire.

It was the perfect setup.

They sat next to each other in Charms, and just as Flitwick turned his back to demonstrate a wand movement, Fred pulled out a small slip of parchment and wrote, in his best and least-sarcastic handwriting:

Oi, Lily, fancy going to the Ball with me?

He folded the note quickly and, with the smoothest flick of his fingers, slid it onto her desk. He kept his eyes trained on his own parchment, waiting, listening.

A pause.

Then a faint rustling as Lily unfolded it.

Fred smirked. This was too easy.

Until—

"Uh… Fred?" Lily whispered, leaning slightly toward him. "Why did you hand me a blank piece of parchment?"

Fred blinked.

He turned his head, looking down at the note in Lily’s hands.

It was completely empty.

Not a single word.

No ink. No invitation.

Nothing.

Fred sat up straighter, now fully awake. "That’s not—" He grabbed his quill, tested it on his own parchment, yep, worked perfectly fine, then squinted at the blank slip. "I—I wrote something, I swear."

Lily gave him a bemused look. "Right. Well, I appreciate the effort, I guess?"

Fred’s brain was scrambling. This wasn’t possible.

Unless—

Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Slowly, he turned in his seat, craning his neck toward the back of the classroom.

Sure enough, y/n was there, leaning casually on her elbow, watching him with a very self-satisfied smirk.

She lifted her wand slightly, giving it the tiniest twirl.

Fred groaned.

"Y/L/N," he whispered, barely keeping himself from laughing.

Y/n raised an eyebrow as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

Fred turned back around, taking a deep breath.

—

Y/n had planned this perfectly.

She had finally found someone Fred hadn’t gotten to yet, James Dunmore, a charming and easygoing Hufflepuff who was known for being friendly with just about everyone. He was the type who wouldn’t be put off by rumors or sabotage, which made him the perfect candidate.

It was foolproof.

She caught him outside the Herbology greenhouses between classes, brushing a stray leaf off his robes. "Hey, James," she greeted casually.

He grinned. "Hey, y/n. What’s up?"

She exhaled slightly, steeling herself. "So, I was wondering—"

But just as she was about to ask him, the doors of the castle slammed open.

A chorus of heavily off-key voices rang out across the courtyard.

Y/n froze.

Students turned in confusion as four overly enthusiastic first-years in matching pink suits came marching toward her, led by none other than Lee Jordan.

"FRED WEASLEY SENT US TO DELIVER A MESSAGE OF TRUE LOVE!" Lee bellowed.

James took a slow step backward.

Y/n clenched her fists.

Lee gave an exaggerated wave. "Hit it, lads!"

The first-years immediately burst into song:

"Oh, y/n, my darling true," "Your beauty shines, your wit cuts through," "Fred Weasley dreams of you all day," "So please don’t turn and run away!"

Y/n covered her face with her hands.

James looked deeply uncomfortable. "Uh—"

Fred, watching from the entrance, leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, smirking like he had just orchestrated the greatest act of war in history.

The first-years weren’t done:

"The Yule Ball’s coming, don’t you see?" "So say yes, my love, and dance with me!" "Fred is waiting, don't delay—" "Or he’ll cry himself away!"

The entire courtyard was now watching.

James chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, y/n, this—this seems like a lot. Maybe I’ll just—" He gestured vaguely before retreating into the greenhouses at top speed.

Y/n slowly turned on her heel, rage simmering.

Fred grinned at her from across the courtyard.

"Sabotage is such an ugly word," he said smugly. "I prefer to think of this as… performance art."

Y/n narrowed her eyes.

This wasn’t over.

—

Fred was getting too close to winning.

Y/n had already lost three potential dates thanks to his sabotage, and she refused to let him have the last laugh. So, she pulled out her own bag of tricks.

She waited until dinner, when Fred was at his most comfortable, laughing loudly at something George had said while stuffing his face with mashed potatoes.

Perfect.

Sliding into the seat across from him, she leaned in, her tone light and casual. "Hey, Freddie. Have a drink, yeah?"

She pushed a goblet toward him, freshly poured pumpkin juice.

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Awfully nice of you, y/l/n," he mused. "You wouldn’t happen to be poisoning me, would you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You think way too highly of yourself. Drink."

Fred smirked, not one to turn down a freebie, and took a long sip.

Y/n fought to keep her face neutral.

The effects were instantaneous.

Fred blinked once. Then twice. His smirk faltered.

"Y/n," he said slowly. "Why does my mouth feel weird?"

"Oh, no reason," she said, beaming.

George snorted. "What did you do?"

Fred sat up straighter, his hands gripping the table as if he were trying to physically hold back his next words. His expression shifted from suspicion to horror as his mouth opened against his will.

"I KISSED A MIRROR ONCE TO SEE IF I WAS A GOOD KISSER," he shouted.

The entire Gryffindor table went silent.

Fred clamped his hands over his mouth, eyes wild.

Y/n grinned. "Oh, did I forget to mention? That was a Truth Potion."

Fred shook his head violently. "No. Nope. Not happening."

His hands dropped from his face, and suddenly—

"I USED TO HAVE A NIGHTMARE WHERE PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL WAS A GIANT CAT AND CHASED ME AROUND THE CASTLE."

George fell off the bench.

Fred turned to y/n, betrayed. "THIS IS EVIL."

She rested her chin on her palm, enjoying the spectacle. "You started this war, Weasley. Now, tell me, who’s your next target for the Yule Ball?"

Fred tried to fight it, he really did. His entire body tensed, his lips trembled—

"I WAS GOING TO ASK LUCY AINSLEY AFTER DINNER!"

Lucy Ainsley, sitting two seats away, immediately stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

Fred groaned. "Oh, come on!"

Y/n popped a grape into her mouth, looking very pleased. "Well. Guess you’ll have to try again tomorrow."

Fred glared at her. "I will get you back for this."

Y/n winked. "Looking forward to it, mirror kisser."

—

Y/n was dangerously close to winning the bet.

She had dodged Fred’s last few sabotage attempts, and now she had one final shot, Clarke Roswell, a smart and charming Ravenclaw who had always been friendly toward her. He wasn’t the type to get easily spooked, and Fred hadn’t had time to get to him first.

At least, that’s what she thought.

She found Clarke in the library after dinner, sitting at one of the quieter tables near the windows, scribbling notes on a long parchment. Taking a deep breath, she sat down across from him, flashing her most confident smile.

"Hey, Clarke," she said smoothly.

He looked up, smiling back. "Hey, y/n. What’s up?"

"Well, I was wondering—"

And suddenly, her mouth wouldn’t stop moving.

"WELL, CLARKE, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WANTED TO GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME BUT ALSO I USED TO SLEEP WITH A STUFFED HIPPGRIFF UNTIL THIRD YEAR AND SOMETIMES I STILL DO BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT—"

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.

Clarke blinked. "...What?"

Her eyes widened in terror as she realised she couldn’t stop talking.

"SORRY I THINK I’VE BEEN HEXED BUT I TOTALLY THINK YOU’RE HANDSOME AND THAT ONE TIME IN POTIONS YOU ROLLED UP YOUR SLEEVES I GOT DISTRACTED AND SPILLED MY INGREDIENTS EVERYWHERE AND PROFESSOR SNAPE GAVE ME DETENTION FOR IT—"

Clarke looked deeply alarmed. "Uh—"

"WAIT NO DON’T LEAVE, I SWEAR I’M NOT A WEIRDO, I JUST THINK YOU HAVE NICE HANDS AND I ALSO ONCE CRIED BECAUSE I DROPPED A SLICE OF PUMPKIN PASTRY ON THE FLOOR AND I STILL THINK ABOUT IT SOMETIMES—"

Clarke was already backing away, his chair screeching against the floor as he practically ran out of the library.

Y/n slammed her forehead onto the table, mortified.

A slow, mocking clap echoed from behind her.

She knew who it was before she even turned around.

Fred Weasley leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"You know," he mused, "I was really hoping you’d start babbling about me, but that was almost just as good."

Y/n lifted her head just enough to glare at him. "You did this?"

Fred smirked, pulling out his wand and twirling it between his fingers. "A little Babbling Curse, just to make things interesting."

"I hate you," she hissed.

Fred grinned. "Nah, you love me. You said so, right before you mentioned that stuffed Hippogriff of yours,"

Y/n grabbed the nearest book and hurled it at his head.

Fred dodged it with ease, laughing as he ran out of the library, while y/n seethed, already plotting her next move.

—

Fred Weasley was in trouble.

It hit him like a rogue Bludger to the chest as he sat at the Gryffindor table, idly pushing peas around his plate. The Great Hall was filled with buzzing conversations, excited chatter about dress robes, last-minute dates, and who was going with whom.

And then, in a single horrifying moment, he realised.

The Yule Ball was two days away.

And he had no date.

His fork clattered against his plate as his brain kicked into overdrive.

He had spent so much time sabotaging y/n that he had completely forgotten to actually secure a date of his own. He quickly ran through his mental list of possible options.

Amelia Roberts? Gave him a withering glare every time they crossed paths after the “secret relationship” stunt.

Fiona Hayes? Still recovering from the boggart catastrophe and actively avoiding him in the hallways.

Sophia Benson? Thought he was in love with Lee Jordan, so that was a firm no.

Lucy Ainsley? Walked out of the Great Hall after his Truth Potion confession and hadn’t spoken to him since.

Clara Whitmore? Witnessed the public marriage proposal and didn’t want to be anywhere near that mess.

Fred groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He was officially out of options.

But then

His hands froze.

His mind came to a screeching halt.

There was still one person who was available.

Y/n.

He let the thought settle, blinking rapidly.

Technically… technically, she counted.

She was still open. He was still open.

And after everything they had done to ruin each other’s chances? It was almost poetic.

His lips curled into a slow smirk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

He pushed his plate aside, standing abruptly. George, mid-bite into a chicken leg, raised an eyebrow. "Where are you off to?"

Fred cracked his knuckles, stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders back. "I’ve got business to handle."

George snorted. "That sounds fake, but alright."

—

Y/n was pacing.

She had spent so much time playing defense against Fred that she had completely neglected to actually secure a date for herself. And now, with only two days until the Yule Ball, she was faced with a horrifying truth:

She had no options left.

Leaning against the stone railing of the Grand Staircase, she furiously ran through every possibility.

Thomas Greaves? Avoided her like she carried a deadly curse.

Noah Bell? Would rather transfer schools than interact with her again.

Liam Fletcher? No. Just—no.

Clarke Roswell? Likely in hiding.

James Dunnmore? Won’t even look at her anymore.

Her stomach twisted.

She was completely out of options.

And then, like a lightning strike, it hit her.

Fred.

Her head snapped up.

Fred was still available.

Technically, he counted.

And after everything they had done to ruin each other’s chances? It was almost fitting.

The second she had the thought, she took off down the corridor, pushing past a few startled second-years.

She had to find him.

She sped through the Grand Staircase, dodging a confused first-year, nearly tripping over a moving step.

Where the hell is he?

This was Fred Weasley, he was always around, always loud, always in the way.

But now, when she needed to find him? Now, when it actually mattered?

Gone.

She gritted her teeth, rounding a sharp corner.

He was moving too fast.

His mind was whirling, his options were gone, he was out of time, and his only way out of this mess was y/n.

It was almost poetic.

Almost.

If he had time to dwell on it, he might have thought about how ridiculous it was that they had wasted weeks sabotaging each other, only to end up in the exact same situation.

But he didn’t have time.

Because he was running, and the second he turned the next corner—

CRASH.

It was instant.

One second, they were both charging full speed ahead.

The next

A solid impact, a tangle of limbs, a sharp oof as they collided full-force into each other.

Y/n stumbled back, slamming into the stone wall, hands gripping Fred’s arms to steady herself.

Fred nearly lost his balance, one hand bracing against the wall beside her head to keep from toppling over.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

They were close. Too close.

The impact had sent her stumbling back against the cold stone wall, and Fred, ever so slightly off balance, had caught himself by bracing a hand against the wall right next to her head.

She blinked.

He blinked.

Neither of them moved.

For a long, stretched-out second, the only sound was the distant chatter of students in the corridors, the faint flicker of torchlight casting warm shadows along Fred’s face.

Y/n swallowed. "You ran into me."

Fred exhaled sharply, amused. "I think you’ll find that you ran into me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You were the one running full speed down the hall like a lunatic—"

"You were also running full speed down the hall," he shot back, a slow smirk curling onto his lips. "Where were you headed, anyway?"

Y/n huffed, finally shifting out of his almost-trapped position. "To find you."

Fred blinked. "Oh."

A beat of silence.

Then, realisation flickered across his face.

"You were coming to—"

"You were also coming to—"

They both froze.

Understanding settled between them.

Fred let out a deep groan, rubbing a hand down his face. "Oh, for Merlin’s sake—"

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms. "I hate this."

"I hate this more," Fred muttered.

A charged silence hung between them.

Y/n cleared her throat. "So."

Fred glanced at her, arms still crossed over his chest. "So."

Her fingers drummed against her sleeve. "I suppose there’s really no way around it, then?"

Fred sighed dramatically, as if the very idea of what he was about to say pained him. "Unfortunately, I don’t think so."

She smirked. "Wow. You sound thrilled."

"Oh, absolutely. Overjoyed."

Another silence. This time, it wasn’t quite as combative.

Fred exhaled, tilting his head slightly, studying her. "You know…" he said, more thoughtful this time, "as much as I hate losing, and as much as I hate you thinking you won—"

Y/n grinned. "So much hate in that sentence, Weasley. Sure you don’t have something else to say?"

Fred ignored her. "I don’t think going to the Ball with you will be that bad."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin up slightly. "That bad?"

Fred gave her a slow, lazy smile. "Well. There’s always a chance I might enjoy myself."

Y/n huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Don’t get your hopes up, Weasley."

"Oh, my hopes are very low, don’t worry."

A pause.

Then, Fred stuck out his hand, looking almost reluctant but also… maybe something else.

Y/n eyed him, amused. "What is this?"

"A truce," he said, though his lips twitched like he was holding back another smirk.

She considered, tapping a finger against her chin like she was actually debating it.

Then, slowly, she took his hand, shaking it once.

The moment stretched just a bit longer than it needed to.

Her palm was warm against his.

Neither of them let go right away.

Y/n arched an eyebrow. "What? Are we having a moment?"

Fred let out a loud groan, instantly pulling his hand back. "Absolutely not—"

"Sounded like a moment to me"

Fred scowled, but his ears were definitely pink. "See you at the Ball, y/l/n."

Y/n smirked, turning to walk away.

"You better dress nicely, Weasley," she called over her shoulder. "Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m dating a total disaster."

Fred scoffed. "Well, lucky for you"

He hesitated.

Y/n slowed, glancing back. "Lucky for me…?"

Fred rolled his shoulders, smirking again, but softer this time.

"Lucky for you, I look good in anything."

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed. i am having some serious writers block at the moment im so upset :(

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[acmeangel]

♡ Levi hires you to work at his tea shop, and the two of you become close.

♡ SFW fluff! ♡ Postwar!Levi x Fem!Reader ♡ One shot, soft Levi, friends to lovers vibes ♡ Word count: 2416 ♡ Summary: Levi hired you years ago to work at his tea shop, back when it was brand new. Over the years, you became close friends, and recently developed into more. You're both a bit rough around the edges, but get each other in a way no one else can. You're like two black cats in love.

It was years ago that you'd walked by Levi's tea shop in Marley and noticed the piece of paper pinned to the door that simply said "Hiring." in bold, slightly messy, handwriting.

Your eyebrows raised despite yourself, slightly amused by the straightforwardness of the sign -- no frills, no details, no niceties.

Marley had only just started to get on its feet again after a full year of scraping by while rebuilding, trying to shake off the lingering fears and treat the deepest wounds. Everyone was on the precipice of healing, and you figured it was as good a time as any to bring back some normalcy into your life. Working at a tea shop seemed like a decent enough way to do that; quiet, peaceful, easy enough. You were never much of a people person, but you could handle basic customer interactions.

When you'd entered the tea shop, you were met with Levi, who was behind the counter, a focused -- but not harsh -- look on his face as he neatly stacked boxes of tea into an orderly pyramid, a small display of the tea flavors. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and he looked up at you, his gaze narrowing slightly, his hands pausing their precise movements. You got a clear look at his face -- the cloudy white eye, the healing scars tracing patterns into his skin.

"Hiring?" You asked, simply, nodding toward the sign on the window.

His eyes darted toward the sign, as if he'd forgotten that he put it there, and then fell back onto you.

"Guess so," he answered, his voice lacking any sort of feeling about the matter. "You want to work here?"

Before answering, your gaze scanned along the interior of the tea shop -- it was small and sparsely decorated, but not in a cold way. It was simple, comforting. Small wooden tables dotted the perimeter, intricately painted ceramic tea cups were stacked behind the counter, a few plants sat in the windowsills, drinking in the hazy sunlight.

"Yeah." Your gaze found his again, and you nodded. "I do."

"'Kay." His focus returned to the pyramid of tea boxes, his hands continuing to organize the stack. "What makes you qualified?"

"It's making tea," you retorted, dryly, without thinking. "Not mechanical engineering." You regretted it the instant you said it, realizing you'd likely butchered your chances of getting hired and that you should've made something up about having a passion for serving the community.

Without moving his head, his eyes drifted toward you, and you could see the faintest look of amusement tugging on his lips.

"Fine." This was all he had said, and you waited for him to ask more questions to evaluate you further, but they never came.

You stood there, somewhat awkwardly, watching as he continued working on his little display of boxes. Once he was finished, he tossed an apron over the counter toward you, which you caught, the fabric balled up into your hands. You were hired.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for you to get accustomed to working alongside Levi. Neither of you were particularly talkative, preferring to keep to yourselves as you did your individual tasks; but, even separately, you worked in perfect harmony together, a seamless fit.

Over the years, it became less that you worked for Levi, and more that you worked with him, the tea shop turning into something that belonged to the both of you. It was never something that was discussed, it was just understood.

You'd started adding your touches to the shop -- art hung on the walls, pillows on the chairs, little knickknacks here and there. The shop was undeniably warmer and more inviting, and even though Levi would narrow his gaze each time you added something new, he never stopped you.

One day, he'd even shown up and placed a small ceramic cat on the counter, adjusting its position just so, though he wouldn't tell you where he got it. You'd teased him, somewhat relentlessly, about it, to which he blushed despite himself and muttered that it was never going to happen again, that you were a horrible nuisance in his life; you called him "such a baby", but made him a cup of black tea and all was forgiven. He brought a new plant into the shop the following week.

You'd share knowing glances with each other whenever a customer was particularly talkative or bothersome, and after they'd leave, you'd gripe to each other about it.

During breaks or lulls in the day, you'd both hover over the same book on the counter, reading simultaneously, your shoulders brushed together just barely. You wouldn't say anything, or even share your thoughts or opinions -- you'd just read, together, settled into the quiet of the tea shop.

As the time passed on, you'd begun to care for Levi, in a way you hadn't expected, hadn't experienced before. When he'd occasionally burn his hand on the stove, you'd hold the ice to his hand. When he had a cold (which he'd never admit to), you'd bring him soup from the cafe down the street. When you could tell he hadn't been sleeping well, you'd tell him to go home early and you'd handle cleaning up and closing the shop.

He'd always frown slightly and say something about how you shouldn't go through the trouble, that he can take care of himself, but you could tell that he appreciated it, that he might have even begun to count on it. You'd usually just tell him to shut up. He'd laugh, barely.

You knew, somehow, that you were the only person he let treat him this way -- gentle, caring.

You two had developed a quiet sort of friendship. You didn't talk all that much, you never saw each other outside of the shop, and you were both a bit rough around the edges. But, you fit together. Understood each other. It was as simple as that.

That was how it had been for years, which is why it took you by surprise when, on one particularly cold winter night, Levi insisted on walking you home after closing. You'd hesitated for a moment to answer, recalling all of the rainy, snowy, cold late nights that you'd walked home alone before, but the expression on his face told you that any protesting would be pointless. So, you let him.

Once you'd arrived at your front door, the two of you lingered silently on your porch, the only sound the soft creaking of the wood below and the brisk wind shuffling through the trees.

"Thanks for walking me home, Levi," you'd said, pulling your key out of your coat pocket and beginning to reach for the door. "Goodni-"

His hand clasped around your wrist, halting your movement. Your eyes snapped up to his face, his gaze secured onto his grip on your wrist. A stretched moment of quiet passed between you two, as you waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

"Okay," you said, drawing the word out, raising an eyebrow slightly as you look at him. "Are you holding me hostage because you think it'd be funny to see me freeze to death out here, or...?"

The tension in his expression dissipated slightly, your dry, teasing tone eased his frayed nerves with a comforting familiarity. He'd gotten used to you, to the way you spoke; it became one of the few, small things he'd ever allowed himself to rely on.

"Y/N," he said, his tone taking on a softness, a somewhat pleading vulnerability that you'd never heard before, as his eyes finally drifted up to meet your gaze. The cloudy grayness in his eye faded into a pale, ethereal blue under the moonlight, the features of his face illuminated, exposed.

He didn't have to say another word. You knew exactly what he meant. That was just the way you two worked.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, knowingly, the word pillowing into the cold air.

His hand slid down your wrist to your hand, his rough, calloused fingers gripping around yours with a sense of uncertainty and newness, like he was learning a new language. He tugged gently, drawing you in, close enough that when both of you breathed, the visible clouds mixed together.

His free hand rose to your face, slowly grasping around your jaw. His teeth clenched slightly, a hint of self-consciousness in his gaze as he looked at the gap his missing fingers left on your cheek; feeling unable to hold you completely.

"Don't," you whispered, somewhat sternly, urging the self-doubt out of his gaze. Your hand flew up to cover his, holding it against your face, the missing fingers not even a thought in your mind.

"You always do that." The words came out as a rough, tumbling statement.

Your lips curled into a faint smile, your head tilted into his palm. "Do what?"

"Protect me," he whispered, his eyes searching yours, "from myself, mostly."

"Can't help it," you whispered back, the words softening his gaze even further.

Before he could think about it more, before he could stop himself, he pulled you in closer, only a sliver of cold air between your lips. He paused for a beat, drawing in a shallow breath, before closing the space. His lips trembled against yours for a fleeting second, before melting against yours. A perfect fit.

His grip on your cheek tightened slightly, his lips moved against yours with a quiet desperation, as if communicating all the words he'd been wanting to say.

He broke the kiss just as suddenly as it started, his lips remaining parted, soft and glistening.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered, before leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek by your ear, his thumb brushing against your jaw one last time. He took one last look at you, his expression somewhat unreadable, before turning and walking away, leaving you at your doorstep.

That night was not too long ago, only a few weeks had passed since. Your relationship was like a delicate melody -- starting slow and gentle, then blooming into a perfectly synchronized symphony.

He'd started walking you home every night, and he'd come inside for a while, sitting on your couch with you, talking more than he ever had (which still wasn't much, by most people's standards). You'd make dinner for the two of you, drape a blanket on his lap on the couch, gently tend to the scars on his face when they'd occasionally get irritated.

You'd lean your head on his shoulder, intertwine your fingers with his. Sometimes, he'd lean into your touch, slinging an arm around you and letting his head settle into the curve of your neck. Your fingers would stroke his hair softly or trace patterns up and down his back.

He'd always thank you at the end of the night and kiss you as if you were about to disappear into thin air. While he never specified what he was thanking you for, you knew he was thanking you for taking care of him.

That's all you really wanted to do -- care for him. You knew that his scars ran deeper than the visible ones, and the more he shared bits of his past with you, you could tell that he never had it easy. His life, until now, was one of fighting, survival, and loss. All you wanted was to alleviate some of the pain, some of the weight that had built up within him for so long.

So, you did these little things to dote on him, to show him what true affection felt like, in hopes that someday, he'd realize how deserving he is of it. That over time, the little things would grow into bigger things, that affection wouldn't be so foreign and unsettling to him. You were willing to wait.

He was standing by your front door now, slinging his jacket onto his shoulders, preparing to head home after another night spent together. You'd sat on the couch, his head on your shoulder, and he'd just finished telling you a simple story about Furlan and Isabel, who you'd learned about recently.

"Levi," you begin, your eyes shifting toward the window, at the powdery snow flurrying through the air. "It's freezing outside, you need more than a jacket."

His gaze follows yours out the window, his expression remaining unfazed. "It's just snow, Y/N."

You ignore him, and grab a knit, brightly colored scarf from the coat rack and hand it to him, your expression stern, but gentle. "Wear this."

"What? You can't be serious. I'll look ridiculous," he looks at you and the scarf dubiously, his brows pressed together with distaste. "I'll be fine."

"Would you just shut up and take it?" You roll your eyes, but you smile, affectionately. Before he can object further, you wrap the scarf around him, earning a groan from the back of his throat.

His nose scrunches slightly in disapproval, and the corners of his lips curve downward, but he lets you finish placing the scarf around his neck.

"Thanks, Y/N," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, the touch soft and fleeting.

Mhm, you hum softly, satisfied with your little victory. You think he's about to turn and leave, but he doesn't -- he stands there, still, looking at you for a long moment.

"What, hoping to get a matching beanie?" You tease, warmly, a laugh escaping your lips.

He shakes his head.

"I told you a while ago that I never felt like I had a home before. Not a real one, anyway. But..." he says, his voice taking on a softened introspection, a gentleness to his face that you've discovered he reserves only for you. "I think this is it."

"Marley? Yeah, it's not so bad. Told you you'd get used to it," you say, a gentle, affectionate teasing in your voice, your fingers adjusting the scarf around his neck.

"No, Y/N. Not Marley," he corrects, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze remaining intently fixated on yours. "You. You're my home."

Your expression melts, a faint pink blush rising to your cheeks. Your hand drifts up from the scarf to cradle his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone.

He turns his head, his eyes remaining on you, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. The kiss feels like he's making a promise to always be yours, and for you to always be his.

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN!

Requested by @beautiful-is-boring

[meazalykov]

car girl

jill roord x reader

the dutch needs her car fixed, and luckily she found the perfect person to do it for her

warnings: there might be incorrect information about cars on here, since I am not a mechanic. I had to do some research for this one <3

the air smells of oil and warm rubber, the scent of your garage always lingering on your skin no matter how many showers you take. 

the radio hums in the background, some soft rock playing through the speakers as you apply a smooth layer of tint onto a customer’s car windows, your movements precise and careful. 

your blue levi overalls are already stained with grease from an earlier job, but you do not care. it is part of the work, part of who you are. its come with the job i guess.   

your hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail, keeping it out of your face as you concentrate. your hands, skilled and steady, press the tint firmly onto the glass, smoothing out any bubbles with practiced ease. 

just as you are finishing up, the sound of a car pulling into the lot catches your attention. you glance up, wiping your hands on a rag, and immediately recognize the blue-gray mercedes. 

vivianne.  

she steps out of the driver’s seat, stretching slightly before shutting the door. the footballer’s blonde hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she is dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans. 

it is not vivianne who captures your attention…it is the brunette stepping out of the passenger seat.  

she is tall, with piercing eyes that sweep over your garage like she is taking it all in. the woman’s posture is relaxed but confident, and she carries herself with the kind of ease that tells you she knows she is attractive. this could be a good or a bad thing but you do not know yet.

your eyes briefly drop to her toned arms, the way her fitted top clings to her, before you look away.  

vivianne smirks, immediately picking up on where your attention went.  

“y/n,” she calls, walking over. 

“this is jill.”  

you wipe your hands on your overalls again before offering jill a nod. 

“nice to meet you.”  

jill’s lips curve into a smirk. 

“i’ve heard about you,” she says, voice smooth. 

“didn’t expect you to be this—” she pauses, her eyes dragging over you shamelessly, “—fine.”  

vivianne groans. 

“jill, for fuck’s sake!”  

you let out a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow. 

“this how you always introduce yourself?”  

“only when the person is worth it.” jill grins.  

vivianne rolls her eyes. 

“anyway, we came here to you because jill’s got some issues with her car. i figured i’d bring her to the best.”  

you tilt your head, glancing toward the sleek black audi parked next to vivianne’s car. 

“what’s the issue?”  

“been overheating like crazy,” jill says. 

“i barely made it to training yesterday without it acting up.”  

you nod, already suspecting the problem. 

“bring it into the garage. i’ll take a look.”  

jill drives it in while you grab your tools, pulling on a pair of gloves before popping the hood open. steam hisses out, confirming your suspicions. vivianne and jill stand off to the side, watching as you move with confidence, checking each component. 

jill’s eyes never leave you.  

“it’s your radiator,” you finally say, pulling off your gloves. 

“it’s in bad shape. you’ll need a replacement.”  

jill sighs, running a hand through her hair. 

“great. how long’s that gonna take?”  

“a few hours,” you answer. 

“depends on how cooperative your car wants to be.”  

vivianne groans dramatically. 

“i was hoping we could go somewhere.”  

“you still can,” you tell her. 

“i’ve got this.”  

jill smirks. 

“you sure? wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone.”  

you huff a laugh, shaking your head. 

“i’ll be fine. go grab some food or something.”  

vivianne and jill exchange a look before jill shrugs. 

“guess we’ll be back later, then.”  

as they leave, jill casts one last glance over her shoulder, her smirk widening when she catches you looking. you shake your head, turning back to the car, but you cannot help the small smile that tugs at your lips. 

a few hours later, just as you are tightening the last bolt, the sound of footsteps echoes through the garage. you glance up, expecting to see vivianne and jill together, but it is just jill.  

“viv went home,” the dutch woman says, leaning against the nearby tool bench. 

“said she was tired. figured i’d come pick up my car myself.”  

“convenient,” you muse, wiping your hands again.  

jill grins. 

“very.”  

you pull off your gloves, tossing them onto the workbench. 

“your car’s good to go. radiator’s replaced, and i checked your coolant levels too. shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”  

jill nods, taking out her wallet. she pays without hesitation, but instead of just handing you the money, she also slides a small card across the counter.  

you pick it up, frowning slightly. 

“what’s this?”  

“my number,” jill says simply.  

you blink, glancing at the card, then back at her. 

“you need me to check your car again or…?”  

jill laughs, shaking her head. 

“no. i want you to take me out.”  

your eyebrows shoot up. 

“oh.”  

“yeah,” she continues, crossing her arms. 

“figured since you’re single and all, i should take my chance.”  

you huff a small laugh, shaking your head. 

“oh my days…vivianne told you, huh?”  

“yup.”  

you exhale, staring at the card for a moment before slipping it into your pocket. 

“alright, jill.” you meet her gaze, a smirk playing on your lips. 

“guess i’ll be seeing you soon.”  

jill grins. 

“can’t wait.”  

with that, she gets into her car, starts the engine, and pulls out of the garage.

you let out a breath, running a hand through your hair as you watch her leave. 

maybe working late was not such a bad thing after all.

masterlist

[aerichives]

fwb loser!minjeong

kim minjeong x reader

synopsis. minjeong was just your awkward, inexperienced best friend until one teasing dare led to late-night hookups, stolen touches, and a secret neither of you could ever admit.

genre. friends with benefits, smut

words. 837

note. guess what... ive been writing this on class bcs of an edit on tiktok. im so down bad for winter mmmhmmhmggf

loser!minjeong, the friend who always got teased for having zero game. the one who got flustered just making eye contact with a pretty girl, who would stammer through the simplest interactions while your friends cackled at her misery.

"you wouldn't even know what to do with a girl if she threw herself at you," ningning said once, snickering.

minjeong scowled, ears red, grumbling into her drink. "i— i could if i wanted to."

that only made them laugh harder.

and, honestly? you believed it too. she was cute, pretty eyes, a little awkward, with a charm that made people naturally like her. but inexperience clung to her like a neon sign. she was your friend, your loser of a best friend, and the thought of her doing anything remotely sexual was funny.

until the day you caught her staring.

you had been minding your own business, scrolling through your phone, when you felt it, her eyes, stuck on you like she was in a trance.

it took you a second to register. the way her gaze lingered a little too long on your chest, the slight part of her lips, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

"like what you see?" you teased, snapping her out of it.

minjeong immediately choked. "i— i wasn't—"

you smirked, sitting up straighter, pressing her further just for fun. "if you're that curious, you wanna see what's under?"

you expected her to panic, to shove you playfully and change the subject but she didn’t.

she just sat there. swallowing hard. hands gripping her hoodie strings. not saying no.

something shifted.

"you serious?" you asked, voice dipping lower.

minjeong still didn’t answer, but the way she wet her lips, the nervous flicker in her eyes, it was enough.

and, well… who were you to back down from a challenge?

the first time was messy. minjeong was hesitant, unsure, hands shaking as they trailed over your skin like she was terrified of doing something wrong. but when you pulled her closer, let out the softest sigh against her lips, something in her cracked.

she kissed you deeper, pushed you down against the bed, her inexperience melting into something more raw, more desperate.

and god, the way she touched you. eager, like she needed to learn every inch of you, like she wanted to prove something. she was shy at first, but the second she had you gasping, thighs trembling as her fingers curled just right, she was hooked.

"this good?" she had whispered, watching the way your lips parted, drinking in the way you clenched around her fingers.

"fuck, minjeong… yeah, don’t stop."

her eyes darkened. and she didn’t.

what started as a joke, a dare, turned into something else entirely.

minjeong, who used to be hopeless, was now pressing you into the sheets whenever she wanted, leaving your legs weak and your voice hoarse from moaning her name. she learned quickly. obsessed over it. loved the way you squirmed when she kissed lower, the way you gasped when she buried her face between your thighs.

and somehow, you both agreed. this was nothing serious. just fun. no strings, no complications.

but then came the moment that almost ruined everything.

it was a usual night out with your friends, drinks flowing, laughter bouncing around the table. the topic turned to dating, naturally, and the teasing started again.

"i still can't believe minjeong’s never been with anyone," karina said, shaking their head. "you’d probably freeze up the second a girl took off her shirt."

minjeong, who was mid-sip, nearly choked on her drink.

you didn’t even think. just glanced at her instinctively, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

and that was a mistake.

because they saw it. the look you two exchanged.

the entire table went silent for a split second, before erupting.

"oh my god."

"no way."

"you guys aren’t—?!"

minjeong went rigid, eyes wide, looking at you like a deer in headlights. you, on the other hand, just shrugged, playing it cool, suppressing a laugh at how red her face had gotten.

"as if," you lied smoothly, rolling your eyes. "she’d probably cry if she saw a pair of tits in real life."

minjeong snapped her head toward you, shooting you a betrayed look. but she was too flustered to argue.

your friends weren’t convinced. they whispered amongst themselves, squealing like they had just uncovered the world’s greatest mystery.

and you? you just smirked, brushing your leg against minjeong’s under the table.

she sucked in a sharp breath. you knew exactly what she was thinking.

because if only they knew.

if only they knew how many times minjeong had already had you breathless, begging, shaking beneath her. if only they knew how desperate she got when she touched you, how her name sounded when you whimpered it against her lips.

but they didn’t. and they never would.

so you just sipped your drink, pretending nothing was wrong.

minjeong, on the other hand, was completely losing it.

[aciddrattboyy]

Cαɳ Iƚ Bҽ Oɳҽ Nιɠԋƚ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "megumi knew he needed to stay away from you. you came from two very different worlds. but god, he was having a real hard time staying away."

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Megumi F. x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 5.4k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Adult Film/Drama/Rom] angst, smut, oral(m!receiving), penetrative sex, saying the L word during sex(all characters aged up!) ★ 01 . 02. [COMPLETED] ★ honestly this might be my best/fav fic ever, i wrote it high one night from 12am to 5am before my 7am shift at work. megumi is one of my favorite characters like ever and i always enjoy writing him

▶▶

megumi loved you. god he loved you so fucking much. he wanted to be with you, make you his. but there was one problem. you were a non sorcerer. you knew nothing of the jujutsu world. and megumi wasn’t selfish enough to bring you into it. as he walked into an abandoned building , the events of earlier today plagued his mind.

“hi megumi!” your face lit up as he walked into the diner you worked at, coming from behind the counter to give him a hug. he didn’t hug you back, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gently pushed you off of him by your shoulders. you looked at him with a small frown, not sure what was going on and why he looked so anxious.

“when do you get off,” megumi’s voice was low, hoping that maybe you wouldn’t be able to hear him and he could just blow it off and pretend he wasn’t about to do this. he watched as you pulled out your phone to check the time, looking up at him with a small smile.

“in half an hour… is everything okay?” megumi could see the concern on your face and thought he was about to cry. 

“uh i just need to talk to you about something,” you frowned when he didn’t directly answer the question. it made you feel uneasy and you wanted to question him more. but instead you just nodded.

“okay uh i guess you can just wait at one of the tables,” he nodded, the thin line of lips unwavering. you offered him one final smile before heading back off to work the register. you couldn’t help but glance over at him every once in a while from where he sat. he seemed fidgety, nervous, and distraught, all things you’ve never seen from him before. you furrowed your eyebrows, trying so hard to figure out what could be bothering him. 

time seemed to drag one for hours as you rang up customer after customer. but soon enough, your shift was ending and you were plastering on a fake smile as you said your goodbyes to your coworkers. 

“hey,” you spoke gently as you stood in front of megumi, tenderly placing your hand on his shoulder to get his attention. when he raised his head from his hands there was one word you’d use to describe his face. tired. 

he silently stood up, pushing in his chair and immediately shoving his hands in his pockets before you could even think about intertwining yours fingers with his. you followed behind him silently, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach. when you reached your car he finally turned to look at you. 

“y/n,” megumi spoke firmly, putting extra effort into making sure his voice didn’t waver. “i know we aren’t official or anything but i think its best if-”

“i understand,” you cut him off, your voice cracking slightly at the end. having had this conversation many times before, you didn’t really want to do it again. so instead you give him a polite smile. “i appreciate you telling me,” you nodded at him once before opening the door to your car. megumi was… dumbfounded to say the least. he didn’t expect things to be this easy and even though he should be grateful for it, he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.

“wait-,” megumi spoke before he could think, a feeling of desperation clouding his mind. “i lo-,”

“don’t,” you cut him off once again, this time the hurt in your voice more prominent. you looked at him with tears pooling in your lashes. this situation feeling all too familiar to ones in the past made you snap. “dont fucking say shit you don’t mean,” your voice was filled with pain while megumi stood there and looked at you with shock. “goodbye megumi, thank you for taking the time to tell me.” with one final nod, you got in your car and drove off, leaving megumi alone in the dark parking lot to process what just happen.

“fuck,” he cursed to himself as he walked towards the door, not wanting to replay those moments while he’s supposed to be exorcizing. with one glance back, he watched as ijichi finished opening a barrier before getting back in his car. megumi had told him that he didn’t need to wait for him and while ijichi was on the fence about it, he reluctantly listened to megumi. 

with a deep breath he passed the threshold of the building and immediately could feel the cursed energy grow stronger than what it was outside. he looked around before summoning his demon dog, warily walking deeper into the building. 

from what he was told, there seemed to just be a couple low level curses, nothing he really needed to worry about. a loud crash rang through the building and megumi was quick to face in the direction of it. 

there was a curse crouching by a pillar, its energy was low and megumi wasted no time before ordering demon dog to exorcize it. after it was gone, megumi felt like something was off, the cursed energy still being very prominent. 

then it happened, another curse appeared with what felt like twice the amount of cursed energy. how did he not notice it before? he was quick to summon nue, having it strike the curse while he tried to move to a spot where he’d get the advantage. but the curse was quick, immediately tracking megumi’s movements.

it wasn’t particularly too strong, megumi knew he would be able to exorcize it with a little work. but what megumi wasn’t prepared for, was it’s abilities. right before he was about to attack, the curse made some sort of intelligible noise and suddenly he was frozen. 

memories of his life began to flash through his mind and for a second he thought maybe he was dying. faces of the important people of his life flashing before his eyes and then you. he saw you so vividly in his mind. you were smiling, giggling as you looked at him like he was the brightest star in the night sky. but then it flashed to your teary eyes, your pained voice echoing in his mind. 

all this was cut short when megumi was hit in his gut. blood spilled out of his mouth as he cried out in pain. vision blurry with tears he didn’t even know he was shedding, he began to attack the curse and with the help of nue and demon dog, he was able to exorcize. 

feeling the cursed energy disperse, megumi let his shoulders slump as he fell to the ground. wiping his eyes with the back of his hands he examined his palms. his hands were shaking, his whole body was shaking. tears were beginning to fall down his already wet cheeks again as his thoughts ran a marathon aside his head, 

he felt like he was going to be sick, he thought he was about to die. he thought his life was truly flashing behind his eyes and he saw you. you were sad. you were hurt. he thought he was going to die and the last thing he saw was your hurt face. his head was dizzy and he almost fell over as he stood up. 

megumi was now regretting telling ijichi to leave. with a sigh he surveyed his surroundings and realized it looked a little familiar. looking back at the building he just exited, he realized it was the very same building you warned him about. 

“look that building over there,” you pointed towards your window as you drove, glancing at megumi before turning back to the road. “it’s so creepy. whenever i pass by i feel a shiver go down my spine,”  you flashed a smile at megumi, missing his blush as you looked back at the road “but for some reason with you in the car im not scared,”

before megumi even realized it, he was at your front door. seeing the doormat with the silly cat that both of you laughed at being the only thing snapping him back to reality. he fished his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. it was late. you were probably asleep now. he should just call ijichi and head home.

he went to take a step back the way he came but before he could even move, memories of what saw in that abandoned building flooded his mind and within a matter of seconds he knocked on your door. megumi knocked only twice, firmly telling himself that if you didn’t answer he was going to leave you alone. much to both his relief and his dismay, you opened the door. 

“megumi?” by the tone of your voice he could tell that you were probably heading to bed soon. “oh my god- megumi-” the sudden change in your tone startled him as he looked at your now horrified expression. “what the fuck happened to you-,” your voice was full of alarm as you took in the sight of the man in front of you. he was leaning against the wall, superficial cuts all over his arms, a bigger cut on his shoulder, and already drying blood coming from what looked like his head. 

“i-,” he took a step forward, quickly tripping over his own legs that felt like they were submerged in concrete, and falling into your arms. you squeaked as his body fell onto you, just barely catching him and stumbling backwards into your apartment. you led him to your couch, panting lightly as you carried the brunt of his weight. 

“stay right there- do not move, let me go grab a first aid kit,” you spoke firmly, watching as megumi’s eyelids fluttered. his head lolled to the side as uneven breaths left his partially open mouth. your hands were shaking violently as you fumbled to grab the kit, opening it quickly to see what was in it. frowning, you looked at the scarce amounts of supplies.

hurry back into the living room you felt your heart stop for a second when you saw how still he was. quickly getting on the couch next to him, dropping the med kit on your lap, you cupped his face in your hands. 

“megumi- megumi please- should i call someone-”

“no,” his voice was hoarse. he sounded pained, as if he was using all his energy just to speak. “don’t… call anyone ‘m fine,” his head slumped against the back cushion of the couch, eyes still shut as his ragged breathing shook through him. 

“megumi you’re bleeding,” your hands clumsily grabbed a pad and a bottle of alcohol before gingerly grabbing his arm. megumi made no move to stop you, sighing at the feeling of your hands on him. the two of you sat in silence as you tended to his arm aside from the low hisses coming from megumi because of the alcohol and mumbled sorry’s from you. when you got to the cut on his shoulder you grabbed a small pair of scissors. “i’ll have to cut the sleeve off,” you spoke mostly to yourself, getting a slight nod from megumi. you worked quickly, cutting off the sleeve and cleaning it as best as your limited medical knowledge would allow you. “it doesn’t look that bad,” you said absentmindedly as you began to wrap his shoulder with gauze.

the corners of megumi’s lips twitch at the somewhat foreign treatment. usually in this scenario he would’ve gone to shoko, cuts like the one he has now seeming so small. and here you were, fussing over it and trying to console him. megumi found that he much preferred this over what he was used to.

shifting in your seat, you leaned forward, bringing your hand to megumi’s head to move his hair out of his face to see where the bleeding was coming from. to your relief it wasn’t coming from his head, but a very small gash on his head. being so focused on cleaning the cut, you didn’t realize megumi was now looking up at you until you reached down to grab a bandage. you smiled at him reassuringly, a small heat flooding your cheeks as you applied the bandage and smoothed out his hair. 

“all better,” you sighed, placing the kit on the coffee table before leaning back onto the couch facing megumi. you looked deep into his eyes, searching for answers you were probably never going to get. “you gonna tell me what happened,” you asked lightly, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“i wish i could,” megumi’s voice was solemn, making you genuinely believe there was something keeping him from telling you. deciding to let it go, you switched topics. 

“you look ridiculous,” you motioned to the jagged ends of the sleeve to his shirt. megumi snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“you’re the one who cut it,” seeing megumi smile, no matter how small it was, made you feel a bit better. he didn’t seem to be in too much pain thankfully. 

“i’ll go get you a shirt to sleep in,” you got up from the couch, reaching down to grab the kit and put it away on your way to your room.

“sleep in?” he lifted his head to look at you, eyes widening slightly. 

“well do you have a way home,” megumi let his head rest against the cushions again. truthfully, he could call ijichi and if he didn’t answer he could call yuji, he knew for a fact that guy was still awake. but instead he found himself shaking his head. 

“then youre sleeping here,” you said with finality as you walked to your room. once you were out of sight of megumi in the confines of your room you found yourself shaking slightly. just to think you were about to head to bed and now the boy you were in love with was injured on your couch. you shook your hands as if trying to shake all of the nerves out of you before heading to your dresser. grabbing one of the many oversized shirts you own, you walked back out to the living. megumi was in the same position as when you left, his chest rising and falling in what looked like a much more normal tempo. “here, you can put this on,” you placed it on his lap, hands lingering for a split second on his thigh before you pulled away. 

“thank you y/n,” he looked up at you again, sitting up as he grabbed the shirt. 

“youre welcome megumi,” shooting him a smile, you stood up again, stretching your arms above your head. “you can sleep in my room,”

“what- no why-”

“you’re injured and my couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable,” you spoke as if this was common knowledge. as if you giving up your bed to the guy who basically broke up with you was the only reasonable option. 

“if it’s not comfortable why would you sleep here,” megumi looked at you incredulously, showing more emotion than he did when he was actively bleeding. 

“i’m used to it,” 

“i’m not going to sleep in your bed knowing you’re on the couch in your own home,” megumi’s voice was firm as he spoke, eyes locked on yours in a sort of silent battle. 

“well then do you want me to sleep with you?,” you were louder than you meant to be, eyes going wide in embarrassment at what you said. it grew silent as the two of you stared at each other. 

before you knew it, you were getting under your blankets, along with megumi. it was quiet and awkward as the two of you shifted under the covers. with your backs to each other, megumi’s mind was going wild. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. could he really be that selfish? could he really let himself love you and let himself be yours? did he really have it in him? surely he’d have to tell you about his line of work. would you think he was crazy? there was too much running through his mind and he began to feel tears welling in his eyes. 

“y/n,” his voice cracked as your name left his lips. 

“yea?” the two of you spoke with your backs still facing each other, both too scared of what would happen if you saw each other.

“i love you,” the words felt foreign as they slipped off his tongue. but it lifted a certain weight of his chest as they finally left him. the room became still, the only noise being your fan. he shifted under the blankets, getting slightly uncomfortable at the silence. 

“i love you too megumi,” your voice was weak, as if you too were scared to speak those words out. without giving yourself a moment to think, you rolled onto your other side, now facing megumi’s back. having heard and felt the movement, megumi followed suit. he felt his breath hitch as he took your face in. 

you were so beautiful, so kind, so loving, so sweet. you were everything megumi ever wanted and he couldnt help the weary smile that spread on his face. you returned his smile, lifting your hand to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. 

“why’re you crying,” you mumbled, now rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. 

“ ‘cause i love you,”

“and that makes you cry?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, a small playful smile on your face. you had no idea what line you were now teetering on. had no idea what your world could possibly turn into if megumi let himself be selfish. this question from you was a rude reminder that you had no idea who he really was. 

“... yes,” his voice was sad as he kept his eyes on you. you noticed the sudden change in his tone and frowned slightly, deciding it was best to redirect where this was going. inching your face closer to his, you let your gaze flick down to his lips. megumi took in a slight breath as you moved, his eyes widening slightly. this wouldn’t be your first time kissing megumi, having gave him pecks on his cheeks and lips multiple time. but this would be the first time it truly felt real.

your eyes fluttered closed when you got close enough to feel his shallow breath fan against your lips. and within only a few moments your lips were on his. the kiss was incredibly gentle and ended way to fast for your liking when megumi pulled away. opening your eyes you see megumi staring at you with a sheepish smile on his face.

“why’re you staring at me,” you asked jokingly, now smiling with him.

“you’re just so pretty,” 

“you’re so sappy,” your teasing was lighthearted, and megumi knew that. but every joke thrown at him just reminded him that you truly don’t know how devastating this was for him. you noticed the change in his demeanor and frowned, still not having any clue what was going on with him. but before you could ask any questions, megumi pressed his lips against yours. this kiss felt different than the one you gave him. the difference in your urgency was incredibly difficult for megumi to deal with. so instead he opted for kissing you until he couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of your lips on his. 

megumis hands trembled as he slotted a hand in your hair, pulling you closer to him. you eagerly returned the passion he was putting into the kiss, pressing your body against his as you kept your hand cupping his jaw.

a small whimper left your mouth when you felt him bite down on your lower lip softly. megumi’s whole body seemed to be shaking as his hands smoothed over your side. your hand traveled to card in his hair, chest pressed firmly against his. 

megumi stilled when he felt himself growing hard, a tinge of guilt in his chest. he shouldn’t do this. he knew he shouldn’t go any farther- hell he shouldn’t have even gone this far. he shouldn’t have shown up at your door. he shouldn’t have even gotten himself involved with you in the first place-

“megumi,” you spoke softly as you could physically see him come back to the present. “you’re distracted again,” you looked over his face as you gave him the most reassuring smile you could, his lips now wet and slightly parted. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled before wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck. you slid your leg between his, not trying to do inheritably sexual, just trying to get comfortable. but the moment your thigh pressed against his boner he hissed in your ear.  

“megumi-,”

“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry y/n,” he kept mumbling apologies into your neck and you tried to comfort him by playing with his hair. 

“you don’t have to apologize,” you whispered into your dark room, but this only made megumi feel worse. you had no idea what he was apologizing for. but he decided to take it, taking in a deep breath before lifting his head to look at you.

“thank you, i love you,” he smiled when he heard you giggle softly, pecking his lips.

“i love you too,” you were beaming up at him now and megumi had a mental war with himself to just let him enjoy the moment. “can you kiss me again,” your voice was so sweet, and you were looking at him with those pretty eyes- how could he resist. with a quick nod, his lips were on yours once more. 

things were escalating faster than megumi could keep up with and before he knew it, you were on top of him, kissing him messily while you grind down on him with your pajama bottoms long gone. small whines and moans from megumi were muffled by your lips, his hands tight on your waist. you broke the kiss to catch your breath, sitting up on megumis lap as you grabbed the hem of your shirt.

“is this okay?” you asked breathlessly, stopping your arms just before pulling your shirt up enough to show your chest. megumi’s eyes were wide as he nodded his head, feeling like he was in a daze watching you take your shirt off. seeing you in nothing but your underwear had megumi’s dick growing painfully hard in his pants and he couldn’t help his hips bucking up into you. you let out a soft sound of surprise at the pressure on your covered clit. with a smile you leaned back down, ghosting your lips over his. you watched his adams apple bobbed when you rolled your hips, a soft whine leaving both of you. megumi sat up, leaning back on his elbows as he pressed his lips into yours, both of your tongues intertwining while you continued grinding your hips against him. “do you want to do anything more” your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke against his lips. 

megumi stilled against you for just a second. this was a bad idea. a very bad idea. but god he wanted you. he wanted all of you. he wanted to be yours and he wanted to you to be his in every sense of the word. so, against his better judgment, he nodded his head, biting his lip as he watched your face light up. his eyes were glued to yours as you moved further down his body. you somehow managing to keep eye contact as you grabbed the hem of his pants had a shiver running down his spine. 

you slowly pulled his underwear and pants down in one go, giggling softly as megumi hurriedly helped by kicking them off. you smoothed your hands over his now exposed thighs, leaving wet kisses on the flesh. 

with his lip stuck between his teeth, megumi tried his hardest to not make any noise while he watched you inch your mouth closer and closer to where he wanted you to touch. and when he finally did place a kiss on his tip he thought he might cum just then. with your eyes on him you grabbed the base of his dick, squeezing slightly while placing kitten licks all around his slit that was now leaking precum. 

“ ah y/n- oh shit,” you moaned around his dick as you lowered your mouth on him, pushing your panties to the side to push two fingers into your wet hole. when you kept moaning around his cock and jerking your hips, megumi finally realized what else you were doing and his whole body felt hot. you began to bob your head at the same pace you were fucking yourself with your fingers and the site was megumi on the brink of an orgasm. 

“you like that ‘gumi?” you asked after pulling you mouth off his dick with a soft ‘pop’, smiling at him as you continued to jerk him off. the nickname had megumi whining loudly despite him biting his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. 

“w-wanna feel you,” he spoke before thinking again, the rational part of him telling him he shouldn’t do this and he should actually stop this all now and apologize and then go home and never talk to you again. but god the way you smiled at him with those lust filled eyes had him thinking with his dick.

“yea baby?” you asked excitedly, pulling your fingers out of you before situating yourself back on his lap and pressing your now wet fingers against his lips. you didn’t have to say anything, megumi already opening his mouth, tongue lapping at your fingers before you pressed them against his tongue. when he looked at you through those pretty lashes you felt yourself clenching around nothing. 

megumi watched you with hungry eyes as you lifted your hips, grabbing his dick and pulling your panties to the side, lining it with your hole. you elicited a long moan from the both of you as you sank down on him. your breath growing ragged as you bottomed out. pressing your palms into his chest, you let your head hang while you got used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“ ‘m gonna start moving,” you whispered, lifting your head to look at megumi as he nodded his head. you smashed your lips against his, effectively muffling both of your moans as you lifted your hips and pushed back down. 

your room was soon filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. both of you moaning and whimpering into each others mouths as you continued to fuck yourself on his dick.

“shit megumi-,” you whined as you pulled your lips away to catch your breath. he whined softly, a shaky hand sliding into your hair and gripping onto it. 

“y/n- y/n i love you,” he panted against your mouth, hips now jerking up into you as he his body chased his orgasm. 

“i love you too ‘gumi- love you so much- im- ah fuck- im close,” 

“me too,” he whispered, eyebrows pinching together as the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each snap of your hips. you snaked a hand between your bodies, fingers messily rubbing your clit as you got closer and closer to cuming. you mewled, resting your head on his shoulder as megumi let out a string of moans above you. 

with one whimpered warning from you, you came undone on his cock. your spasming cunt around him was what finished him off, quickly lifting you off of him as his cum spurted all over his shirt. your eyes were wide at his display of strength as you came down from your high, panting softly.

with a dramatic sigh you flopped onto the bed next to a spent megumi. you watched as he smiled up at the ceiling. 

“oh megumi you ruined my favorite shirt,” you pouted as you looked at the now cum stained shirt. you were totally just joking but the expression on megumi’s face as he turned his face to look at you was priceless. 

“y/n im so sorry-,”

“i was just kidding!” your laugh was undeniably contagious, making megumi laugh along with you until both of you couldn’t breath and your chests started to hurt. “you probably shouldn’t sleep in that though,” you said while wriggling your eyebrows. megumi rolled his eyes before sitting up to take off the shirt. seeing all of his torso was definitely something you were going to commit to memory. every scar, blemish, and mark now stored in their own little file folder in your mind. 

you watched silently as megumi went to grab his pants putting them on as he watched you slip back under the covers.

“you’re gonna sleep like that?” megumi spoke with a smile on his face, getting right under the covers next to you. 

“mm yea ‘m too comfy now,” you sighed, slinging your leg over his hips and resting your head on his chest. megumi hummed softly one arm wrapped around your waist while the other resting on your arm. 

“you havin fun,” megumi asked as you traced the edge of the gauze on his shoulder with your fingertips. laughing quietly, you nodded against his chest, placing a kiss right before the gauze. the room fell silent after that, nothing but the noise of your fan and breathing to be heard.

“megumi,” you whispered, not entirely sure if he was even awake. 

“yea?”

“i know you’re not ready to tell me now,” you started,  your face heating up slightly. “but i need you to know that i will patiently wait for you to tell me your stories,” this is what brought megumi back to reality. just now realizing what he’s done, what he’s currently doing. he was internally freaking out but didn’t want to alarm you. 

“thank you y/n,” was all he said, effectively ending the conversation as you let out a content sigh. he held you in his arms until you fell asleep, only then letting unconsiousness take ahold of him. 

he woke up with a jolt, heart racing while he laid in an unfamiliar bed. he was about to sit up when he felt a weight on his chest- oh. it was you. he was in your room. after sleeping with you, having told you he loved you multiple times, having gave you this false sense of security. god he was horrible.

he sat up slowly, looking down at your sleeping frame now clinging onto his legs. you looked so peaceful like this. so beautiful- angelic even. but then there was a buzz from his phone. pulling it out of his pocket, his frown deepened when he saw the notification saying he got assigned to another mission. this time to defeat a special grade.

in this moment he knew he couldn’t do this to you. couldn’t bring you into a world you never asked to be in. and so with a dejected sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep himself from crying before he got up from the bed. 

he was quiet as he moved, making sure to not wake you up. mostly for his own sake, not wanting to see you in pain again. he was selfish that way, not wanting to be there to know he was the one who cause your suffering. 

he rounded to your side of the bed, leaning down and slipping a strand of hair out of your face to press a gentle kiss against your temple. he let his lips linger on your skin for longer than he probably should have. 

with one last look with teary eyes, he walked out, closing the door to your bedroom quietly.

when you woke up you instantly searched for the warmth of the boy you loved. the boy who had confessed his feelings for you multiple times. with your eyes still closed, you swiped your arm over the bed, frowning when you only felt your cold sheets. opening your eyes, you sat up looking towards the bathroom your frown only growing more prominent when you saw the door was open to the dark room. quickly shrugging on a shirt you walked out your room, hands shaking slightly as you called out his name. and to your utter dismay, you quickly realized the truth,

megumi was gone.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[ghiblinsm]

Objective 1: Make Anya's lock

Mouthwashing x Jimmy's Daughter! Reader

part 1-ish?

word count: 2,526 words and 13,690 characters

"Reality, such a strange thing to me,"

warning: jingle bob, reader is morally grey but not in a pussy curly way, you may end up hating her depending who your favorite character is.

You jerk awake look over to see Curly heaving and groaning in agony, thrashing as much as he can with...well with his situation. His pained sounds are like nails on chalkboard as you walk over to the small pile of pain killers on the table grabbing one and stepping towards Curly.

"Ok Grant, open wide..." The grossest part is having to touch his nasty jaw to open it wide enough for him to take the pills. Popping one in and closing it back up as shiver crawl up your spine from the sound of his swallowing. "eugh.."

You sit down on a spinning chair near Curly and rest your head on your hand, needing to wait for him to stop heaving and thrashing to know if the pain killer worked, again. God... He smells like shit, guess that's what would happen though if one were practically skinned and lost four limbs and couldn't shower.

He finally stops thrashing and his heart rate returns to normal, his staring problem hasn't been fixed though, his singular eye staring intensely at you and your permanent scowl which deepens as he continues to stare. You stand up and kick the chair away while maintaining eye contact with Curly's eye.

"...What? What'd you want?" His staring continues as his mouth breathing seems to be getting louder and more unbearable. "well?! Speak up!"

"The voices in my head,"

You look at him then to the table and back at him, sighing in frustration as your fist clench. It would be dumb to get mad at him for doing the only thing he can do, stare.

"Whatever," you finally turn to leave as his eye follows your movement, "Anya will come by later, have fun till then I guess."

The door closes behind your retreating figure with Curly still looking in your direction.

You walk past Anya and Swansea talking about Curly and Repairs or something, and head to the main area, where Daisuke is sitting down by the big screen that's displaying a sunset into water and playing on the small console you made a while back with only a singular pixelated game that crashes if the smallest thing goes wrong.

You could care less where he is so that doesn't matter right now.

Despite clearly seeing what Daisuke is doing you still ask, "Hey, Daisuke. What-um whatchu up to?.."

"My friends from my dreams,"

"Hey! Yeah, I'm just trying to get passed this level but it keeps crashing..." He looks a bit slump but hopeful as the game crashes again from one of his choices. "But I swear I'm gonna get it this time!-"

"uhuh, thats nice. Hey, when you were with Swansea earlier, did you guys find any extra parts that weren't needed for the ship to function?..." you lean against the wall to try and seem as if you don't care what the answer is but truthfully...you really need a few parts, to create at least one lock.

Daisuke looks at you for a moment, as if contemplating whether to tell you or not. On one hand, Swansea had told him not to give you any extra parts anymore because quote, 'who knows what she's doing with those parts', but on the other hand you haven't done anything weird with scraps yet...

"Nah, we didn't find anything, are you trying to make something?" Maybe if he knows what you're trying to make, then Swansea will let him give stuff to you!

"Nothing, nothing...was just wondering, don't worry about it i'll- i'll figure something out," you head to the door to leave the main area barely muttering a goodbye.

"Bye?..huh" Daisuke watches as you leave then focuses back on the botched console.

"They whisper to me,"

You mindlessly roam through the empty halls, deep in thought but not thinking of anything in particular. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear this agitating, grating voice from this greasy haired, internalized homo bitch.

"And what are you doing?" you sigh out in annoyance at the slight accusatory tone in his voice.

"The devil's on my shoulder.."

You look up at his face, his brows furrowed but his eye's show irritation. "Nothing, Captain." you learned pretty quickly, after he appointed himself Captain, that for him to leave you alone most of the time, just fuel his ego to be better than Grant.

"Have you made what I asked for yet?" Right...his 'need' for a master key to the rooms that can lock.

"No, I haven't gotten to it." And even if you had the materials, his key wouldn't exactly be a priority.

"And why haven't you gotten to it?" Ugh, the piss baby's getting upset.

"I haven't gotten to it because there hasn't been as many free materials for me to use." Before he speaks you continue, "And even if I had the materials, Anya was the first to start bitching to me about something she needs."

That grabs his attention, what would Anya need? Before you can leave, he grabs your shoulder and turns you back around to face him. "What exactly did Anya say she needed?" his eyes with a sort of craze look.

"How the hell should I know? I told her not to bother me until i've got materials, which seem to be nonexistent anymore on this barren ship." Thats a lie, you know exactly what she wants and why, but you hate Jimmy more then you dislike Anya so why would you tell him?

He stares intently into your eyes, like he's trying to detect if you're lying or not. "You better not be lying."

"I'm not, she's only priority because I had her save her spot by trading me a few pills..." God, when is he going to leave you alone.

He finally backs up and walks away, purposefully knocking into your shoulder to make you stumble.

"But I like the way he sings,"

With a small, irritated smirk, you try to find Swansea. Considering the state of the ship, it's hard to believe that they truly haven't found any scraps you can use.

You find Daisuke and Swansea in a storage room, Daisuke halfway inside a vent and Swansea watching from below, holding the ladder and instructing Daisuke on what to do.

"Hey, Swansea?" He barely jerks in surprise but turns his head to look in your direction, still keeping a grip on the ladder Daisuke's on.

"What do you need?" His gruff, slight accented voice sounds tired...whatever anyway.

"Have y'all found any scraps? Anya has a request for me and I don't have any materials." You know Swansea knows that something happened to Anya, just not exactly what happened, so hopefully he'll give you something.

He contemplates for a bit, likely debating the pros and cons if you're lying. There's silence apart from Daisuke yelping from almost shocking himself which snaps Swansea back.

He's sighs and nods to his left, a pile of scraps that they did indeed find. "it's over there."

"Great, thanks.." Daisuke almost slips off the ladder from the tone of your voice, knowing his lost aura points with you and most definitely fumbled from lying earlier.

"Love me endlessly,"

You grab all the scraps, using your uniform jacket as a bag of sorts to carry the metal and frayed wires.

Once you leave the room Daisuke peek down the vent to look down at Swansea and whines. "You made me fumble the huzzzz."

Swansea looks at him with a confused look, "I made you fumbled the, what the fuck?"

Anya was in the medical room watching over Curly when you come walking in with the scrap, a few tools, and the pills she traded you for the lock.

Anya looks up at you from beside Curly with her half lidded, very much tired, eyes. They widen with some kind of hope at the sight of your splayed-out scrap and tools on the only table in the room.

"What kind of lock do you want?" You get some water from the sink to take one of the pills which will hopefully kick in before you start working so you focus better.

"Um, I guess any that can lock from inside the room." Anya's obviously apprehensive, not to blame her, it's not exactly reassuring to have someone on drugs, making a safety lock that supposed to be a secret from the captain whom she is also related to.

She receives a hum from you then turns back to Curly, surprised at the slight rise in his heart beats per minutes. She stands and walks over to the pile of pain killers. "How long has it been since you gave him his medicine?"

You look up from your botched looking layout to Anya, "what time is it now?"

"And when I wake, have my soul to keep,"

She groans and grabs about 2-3 pills and walks back to Curly but hesitates to touch his jaw, quietly gagging. Annoyed at her for taking so long and acting like a baby you get up from where you were sitting and walk over, "I got it, just don't throw up in here."

She rushes out the room with a trashcan, leaving you to once again touch Curly's buck nasty bloody, burnt, bandaged jaw.

After giving him his medicine, and Anya has yet to return, probably yakking her guts out. The drugs start kicking in and well, the thin filter you had sorta slips as you get to making Anya's lock.

"This was your fault, know," Curly's one eye looks over at you as you talk to him, "you were the one to enable him," you turn in the spinning chair to face his direction but not looking up from a stubborn sheet of metal that won't bend correctly.

"I may have known what he did, but Anya didn't tell me, she told you, and you barely believed her until you saw him having a pussy breakdown in the halls." You look up from finally getting the metal into the right shape and see Curly staring at you with a shaky chest.

"You're worse than me." He sees your dilated pupils before you turn your back to him again as Anya enters.

"Desperately, they beg me not to leave,"

"Hey, Anya?" She turns to see you holding a few weird mashed pieces.

"Hm?"

"Where do you this to be placed?" Oh! oh... that- that does not look like it'll keep her sleeping quarters locked...

"Uh, yeah, just over here." She walks you over to her sleeping quarters and opens the door. Turning once you got inside and points to a spot on the door frame. "Can it be placed here?"

"Yeah, I guess," you grab a soldering gun to attach it to the frame, "here's the key," your hand pulls out a small key from your pocket with your other holding the soldering gun. "DON'T LOSE IT, I don't have enough materials to create another one."

"Okay, thank you." There's a hint of gratitude in her tone as she grabs the key and leaves her sleeping quarters.

"The fire in my eyes,"

You easily attach the new lock onto the door and frame and make sure it's not loose or anything, otherwise some people may be able to break in. It's still weird that the sleeping quarters don't have locks but at least you can actually add them now without getting credits docked, considering pony express, dumb name btw, went bankrupt.

You leave her room and see Daisuke trying to act nonchalant and leaning on a wall nearby...he's not subtle in his motives with the way his eyes rapidly glance at you to see if you're looking. looking at the look then back at him you get an idea.

"Hey, Daisuke?" you're surprised at how fast his head turns to you with the most...irritating small smile rather than his usual, goofy, big one. "Can you help me test out this lock?"

He tries to cooly stride over but stumbles over a few dead wires and then just walks over. "Yeah! totally, what do I need to do?"

"Go into Anya's room, lock the new lock on her door, there should be a latch option.., and tell me when so I'll try to barge in. Tell me if the lock loosens or twitches or something." you make sure to explain in the simplest way possible, so Daisuke understands.

"Got it!" He enters the Anya's room and you hear a fumble of a switch, another sound of a switch, the jingle of the lock, and then the latch.

"is burning at my feet,"

A heavy sigh leaves from you as he probably thought something else was the lock, something turned on, so he turned it off, looked at the keyhole of the lock then finally saw the latch. "Ready!"

You back up a bit then throw yourself into the door, repeating a few times till getting an answer from Daisuke, a very scared Daisuke who genuinely felt a tad afraid from the aggressiveness of the shoves into the door, like you actually were trying to break it down instead of checking the lock.

He comes out a bit shaken but acts really tough, "Didn't even move an inch," he seems a bit proud until...

"You or the lock?" you snicker at his faux offended look on his face.

"For your information, the lock did infact stay put and so did I." He crosses his arms proudly but melts when he hears your words.

"Mhm, you were a very brave baby." you said it jokingly, obviously, so he quickly regains his composure once he realized.

"miles away from his life,"

You bend down to grab your tools as Daisuke seems to want to ask you something but is hesitant to. "He-Hey? do you want to come to my-"

Here comes the father-in-law, the fun crusher, the erratic homo, Jimmy. "What's going on here?"

Daisuke stifles a snicker at the sight of you rolling your eyes as you turn towards Jimmy's direction. "Nothing, I was talking with Daisuke about dumb stuff."

Seems like he grew something down there since he starts demanding shit you definitely ain't gonna follow. "Listen, I am the captain now and my key should be made first, it should be top priority!-"

Shaking your head you cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, you're right, once I get the materials, I'll get started on your key right away." a big fat lie since you definitely won't be working on it anytime soon, it'd be a waste of time and a waste of material. It's better to just put it off and say stuff to make him happy.

"without his love i'm not alright,"

"You better.." wow. . . so ominous and scary better get to work on that key card right away!

"Don't worry your pretty lil head, okay Jimmy? I've got it, you just go do your important little captain things, okay?" you gently start pushing him back towards the cockpit till he eventually grumbles and walks away.

You turn towards Daisuke, "Get a load of this guy." pointing your thumb back at Jimmy's retreating figure. Daisuke bursts into laughter(calm down it ain't that funny) and you two head to the main area.

Objective completed:

Anya will remember your generosity.

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Curly's relationship with you:❤️❤️

Becoming strained as your rambles become more personal and targeted.

Anya's relationship with you:💜💜💜

She trusts you enough and doesnt hate you but can't help but feel uneasy around because of yimpy.

Swansea's relationship with you:🧡🧡🧡

Doesn't hate you but because of your relationship to Jimmy he doesn't always trust you to give you scraps.

Daisukes relationship with you:💛💛💛💛

He's glad to have someone near his age to talk to and hang with that knows what references he makes, his heart beat raises when you two talk.

Jimmy's relationship with you:💙

Very strained from y'all's relationship, he didn't exactly raise you, was only obligated to give you shelter when your mom died, but when you were 18 you moved away and y'all only met again 2 years ago when his was 'introduced' to you from Curly before a shipment trip.

A/N: i feel like daisuke is the most out of character, oof.. but yay! first mouthwashing fic!

[kathlare]

cindy lou who

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lusinha uncovers Lando's hidden feelings as she finds his messages to Amelie, revealing that Lando has never truly moved on.

Wordcount: 1.7 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 21st, 22 - Lisbon, Portugal

The night in Portugal had been wild. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol as the group made their way into the sleek black SUV. Lando leaned back against the seat, his eyes glazed from the mix of drinks he'd downed at the club. Max, ever the watchful friend, sat beside him, though the mood in the car was anything but calm. Lusinha and her friends chattered away in the back, laughing and taking selfies, their voices cutting through the low hum of the engine. Lando's head throbbed, and he could barely keep his eyes open, but there was something gnawing at him. Something he'd been trying to ignore for too long.

Lusinha, who sat across from Lando, had been shooting him occasional glances all night, her brow furrowed in mild concern. She could tell something was off. He'd been distant ever since they left the club, and there was this strange look in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and longing. He hadn't been himself the whole evening. The usual Lando—playful, charming, and always the life of the party—was nowhere to be found.

—Hey, you good?— Lusinha asked, leaning forward, her voice soft yet piercing through the chatter of the car.

Lando blinked and turned to her, a weak smile creeping across his face. —Yeah, yeah. Just tired. Too many shots, you know?—

Max, sitting next to him, didn’t buy it. He could see the tension in Lando’s shoulders, the way his hands fidgeted in his lap. He knew what Lando was thinking. He always did. Lando had been trying to hide it, but Max wasn’t dumb. The guy was a mess. And Max could guess exactly who was behind it.

Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He barely noticed it at first, his head resting against the cool window, the world outside blurred by the dim streetlights. But when it buzzed again, he stiffened.

Max noticed. —You sure you’re alright, mate?— he asked, his voice low but heavy with concern.

Lando didn’t answer right away, his fingers hovering over the phone screen, the temptation almost unbearable. He had thought about it the whole night—thought about reaching out, just once. The curiosity had been eating at him for weeks, but tonight, after the drinks, after the numbness of the club, the temptation felt worse. He just needed to know if she was doing okay.

His thumb hovered over the screen of his phone, the familiar name burning into his eyes like an unhealed scar—Amelie.

He knew she wouldn't see it. She hadn’t seen his messages in months, ever since he’d been blocked. But still, he couldn’t stop himself. It was like a reflex, a desperate reach into the void, hoping for something—anything—from her. Even if it was just to know she was okay. Even if it meant sending messages into the abyss, knowing full well they would never get through.

He typed quickly, too quickly to think about the words he was sending.

Lando Norris: Hey, Amelie. I miss you.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But his fingers betrayed him, and his heart was doing the talking, not his brain. He hit send, even though he knew that message would go nowhere.

Max looked over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Lando’s phone screen. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and filled with suspicion. —Who you texting?— he asked, his tone sharper than usual.

Lando stiffened, his fingers trembling as he quickly locked the phone. He hadn’t even realized Max had been watching. The alcohol buzz was starting to cloud his judgment. He didn’t need Max to know what he was doing. He couldn’t face the questions, the pity.

Lando shoved his phone back into his pocket, trying to act casual. His head fell back against the seat, eyes closing as he tried to focus on the rhythm of the car moving through the streets of Portugal. But it wasn’t working. The world was spinning, and all he could think about was her—Amelie.

Max wasn’t fooled. He had seen this before. Lando’s late-night messages, his inability to move on. Max had been there when Lando and Amelie had gone from friends to something more, and he’d witnessed the chaos that followed when things fell apart. He knew this wasn’t just the usual drunken nonsense. This was something deeper, something Lando hadn’t been able to shake, no matter how much time had passed.

Max glanced over at Lusinha, who was still laughing with her friends in the backseat, oblivious to the tension between Lando and him. He wasn’t sure how long Lando had been carrying this around, but the signs were all there— the way Lando’s hand shook when he reached for his phone, the way he’d been so quiet tonight, the way his eyes darted toward his phone every few seconds, like he couldn’t escape it.

Lusinha leaned forward from the backseat, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at the two of them. She had noticed the shift in Lando's mood too. She could see the way his face had fallen, how his body seemed tense, even though he was trying to hide it. She exchanged a quick look with her friends before she focused on Lando.

—Who were you texting, babe?— she asked, her voice sweet but laced with concern.

Lando didn’t look at her. He didn’t even respond, just kept his gaze fixed on the road, though he knew she wasn’t going to let it go. Lusinha had always been perceptive, always keen to catch onto the smallest details.

—You’ve been acting weird all night. Who were you texting?— she asked again, leaning even further forward this time. Her voice was softer now, almost coaxing, but there was an edge to it.

Lando shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t want to tell her the truth either. The last thing he wanted was for Lusinha to find out how much he was still caught up on Amelie. It wasn’t fair to her, but it wasn’t fair to him either. His mind and his heart were in two different places, and no matter how hard he tried to escape it, the past was always there, pulling him back.

—It’s nothing, Lusinha, just drop it, alright?— His voice came out sharper than he intended, but the last thing he needed was for her to start prying into his business.

Max, sensing the tension, glanced over at Lando but didn’t say anything. He knew exactly what was going on. He’d seen it before. Lando wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Max. Lando was in too deep, and Max could tell this was more than just a drunken thought. This was something bigger, something Lando wasn’t ready to face.

Lusinha frowned but didn’t press further. She could feel the distance growing between them, but she didn’t know what to do about it. She’d been with Lando long enough to recognize when something wasn’t right, but this time, she wasn’t sure if it was her or something else. The fact that he wouldn’t tell her who he was texting, that he was shutting her out, stung. But she didn’t want to push too hard. She hated confrontation.

The car pulled up to the Airbnb, and the group stumbled out into the quiet Portuguese night. Max and Lusinha’s friends headed inside, chatting among themselves, but Lando lingered in the driveway for a moment. He had to steady himself before he could make his way inside. His head was spinning, and every step felt heavy.

Max shot him a look, but Lando was too out of it to notice.

—Get some sleep, mate— Max muttered as he followed him inside, but Lando didn’t respond. He was already thinking about one thing: his phone.

The house was dark, and Lando made his way to the living room, collapsing on the couch. His phone was still in his hand, and he unlocked it without even thinking.

He stared at his own name in the contacts, wishing he could just call her. But he knew better. She wasn’t going to answer. Not after everything that had happened. He had blocked her, and she had blocked him. They were strangers now. He could send as many texts as he wanted, but they were never going to reach her.

He leaned back on the couch, tossing the phone onto the coffee table, hoping to fall asleep quickly. But no matter how tired he was, sleep wouldn’t come.

Meanwhile, Lusinha, who had been quiet until then, was growing restless. She knew something wasn’t right. She had seen him, the way he’d reacted when she asked who he was texting. He’d locked the phone so quickly, almost too quickly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was lingering in the back of his mind. It bothered her. Badly.

Lusinha quietly crept into the living room after everyone else had gone to bed. The house was silent, save for the sound of Lando’s shallow breaths as he lay on the couch, oblivious to her presence. She knew it was wrong, but her curiosity got the better of her. She needed answers.

She took a deep breath, walking over to where Lando had tossed his phone. It was still unlocked.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, and for a moment, she debated whether she should really do this. Should she respect his privacy? Or should she find out what was really going on with him? She had a sinking feeling, and her gut was telling her that the answer was something she wouldn’t want to hear.

She opened the messages first, her heart pounding in her chest. The most recent messages were from Lando, all sent late at night. The ones he’d sent that evening, probably when he’d been tipsy.

Lando Norris: I miss you Lando Norris: Amelie, I hope you're doing okay. I know you probably won’t see this, but... Lando Norris: You’re always on my mind. I still think about you. I hate that I fucked things up.

Her eyes widened, her heart sinking as she scrolled through the messages. It wasn’t just that night. There were months of texts, all sent to the same name. Each one of them empty, hoping that Amelie would somehow get them despite the block. She read through more.

Lando Norris: I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s like nothing makes sense without you. I still miss you. Lando Norris: You’re the only one I think about when I wake up. Why is this so hard?

The room felt suffocating as Lusinha absorbed the weight of it all. She sat back on her heels, her fingers trembling. She wasn’t just reading about Lando’s pain; she was reading about the fact that, no matter how much time had passed, he hadn’t gotten over Amelie.

Lusinha closed her eyes for a moment, a pit forming in her stomach. She thought she knew Lando. She thought she understood him. But this? This was something else. This was a side of him she didn’t know existed. And it hurt. It hurt to realize that she had been with him, had been giving him everything, while his heart was still somewhere else—somewhere he couldn’t get back to.

Then, she noticed something else. His call log. It wasn’t just messages. There were missed calls—calls that hadn’t been answered. She saw the number—Amelie’s.

Lusinha’s heart dropped into her stomach.

She had to know if he had actually tried calling her, tried reaching out, hoping for anything. So, she scrolled through more. Sure enough, there were calls from Lando, desperate, unanswered. They were spaced out over the past few months, a steady stream of attempts to reach Amelie. But none of them had gone through.

Her mind reeled.

This was it. This was the thing Lando had been keeping from her. The one thing that had been sitting between them for so long. The truth was clear now: Lando had never gotten over Amelie.

Lusinha closed the phone, her breath coming in short gasps. She didn’t know what to feel. Anger? Hurt? Betrayal? All of it mixed together, swirling inside her.

She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. But deep down, she knew something had shifted. The person she thought she was in love with—wasn’t really hers at all.

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

•Chapter 3•

WC: 2814

TW: age gap(Rafe is in his 40s, reader is in their early twenties), fluff, cussing, and SMUTTT(breeding kink, daddy kink, slight bondage, impact play)

The dress Rafe had sent over fit like it was made for you. Deep red, smooth against your skin, expensive in a way that made you feel out of place. It was Valentino—or maybe Versace. You hadn’t checked the tag. All you knew was that it clung in all the right places, and made you look like you belonged.

Or at least, like you could fake it.

A knock came at the door.

“Ready?” Rafe’s voice was smooth and casual.

You grabbed your bag, took a breath, and opened the door.

His eyes flickered over you, slow and deliberate, before he smirked. “Yeah. That’ll work.”

The way he said it—like you were another one of his investments—sent a chill down your spine.

The club wasn’t just a club. It was a private lounge, the kind of place where money and power mixed behind velvet ropes. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and expensive perfume. Low lighting, murmured conversations, and an underlying sense that if you didn’t belong, you’d know immediately.

You spotted Lottie and Nora Thornton first.

They were already seated at a corner booth, drinks in hand, looking effortlessly expensive in designer dresses. Their brother, Kayden, leaned back against the booth, unimpressed as always.

Lottie’s eyes widened when she saw you. “Oh, you look so good.”

Nora grinned, nudging Lottie. “See? I told you she’d pull it off.”

You slid into the booth beside them, relieved to see familiar faces.

Kayden, however, barely spared you a glance. “So, what’s it like? Being on Mr. Cameron’s payroll?”

You stiffened.

Lottie groaned. “Kayden, don’t start.”

Nora sipped her drink. “Yeah, at least let her get a drink first.”

Kayden just shrugged. “I’m just saying. Some of us have to work for things. Others just… get sponsored.”

The tension between you and him was always there, always simmering just beneath the surface.

You opened your mouth to snap back, but then—

“Ladies,” Rafe’s voice, smooth as ever, as he slid into the booth beside you.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Nora smiled. “Mr. Cameron.”

Lottie nodded politely. “Nice to see you.”

Kayden, however, just exhaled sharply and looked away.

Rafe didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he draped an arm over the back of the booth, fingers just barely brushing your shoulder. “Glad you could all make it, where’s your father?”

Lottie smiled softly,” By the bar with our mother.”

Rafe nodded,” Thank you, Miss Thorton.” Rafe leaned down to place a kiss on your lips,” I’ll be back Darlin’ .” Your heart raced as you nodded.

You caught Kayden watching. His jaw clenched.

This night was going to be long.

Across the lounge, a woman sat perched on a velvet couch, a champagne flute dangling from her fingers. Ruthie.

Her over-bleached hair, heavy makeup, and faded designer dress all screamed once upon a time, she was somebody. Now? She was clinging to whatever she had left.

And she was watching Rafe.

When their eyes met, she smirked. “Cameron,” she purred. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Rafe didn’t flinch. “Didn’t think I’d see you anywhere, Ruth.”

Her lips curled. “Funny. Last I checked, I wasn’t the one who had to disappear.”

You glanced at Lottie, who rolled her eyes. So this was Ruthie.

Kayden muttered, “Guess she finally ran out of Thorntons to date.”

Because that was the thing about Ruthie—she’d dated Topper Thornton first, back when she still had some shine. When that crashed and burned, she’d latched onto Rafe.

Right after he ended things with Sofia, his ex-fiancée.

Now, she was just floating, looking for a new branch to grab onto.

Ruthie’s gaze landed on you.

“And who’s this?”

Before you could answer, Rafe’s fingers tightened on your shoulder. “Someone who’s actually going to make it far in their singing career.”

Ruthie tilted her head. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Men like him? They’ll make you feel like you’re on top of the world. But trust me—the fall is brutal.”

Your stomach twisted.

Rafe chuckled, low and dangerous. “That why you’re still here, Ruth? Waiting for me to catch you?”

The smirk faltered. Just for a second. Then she leaned back, took a sip of her champagne, and let the conversation die.

After the meeting with James Holloway—which had gone well enough, shockingly, you had a studio sessions tomorrow. You’d be going to a recording studio on the Mainland. You stepped outside for some air.

That’s when you heard Rafe’s voice.

“…don’t care what it takes,” he was saying, low and sharp. “I want it handled. Tonight.”

You froze.

Silence.

Then—

“No, you listen to me. You think I won’t? You think I won’t fucking do it myself?”

Something in his voice made your stomach twist.

Then—

A quiet chuckle. “Good. Then don’t make me call again.”

The call ended.

Your barely had time to process before—

“What are you doing out here?”

You turned. Kayden.

His expression was unreadable, but the way he was looking at you? It made you feel caught.

“Just… getting some air,” you said quickly.

Kayden exhaled, shaking his head. “Right. Getting some air. Away from your benefactor.”

You bristled. “I don’t need a benefactor.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but—

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice, sharp and sudden.

You turned. Rafe was standing at the entrance now, watching the two of you. And when his gaze slid to Kayden, it hardened.

“You ready to go?” Rafe asked you, but it wasn’t really a question.

You hesitated.

Kayden stepped closer. “You really wanna go home with a criminal, Y/n?”

Then Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re a lot like your dad, you know that?”

Kayden’s jaw clenched. “And you’re still trying to prove you’re better than him.”

Something dangerous flickered in Rafe’s expression.

Lottie and Nora appeared at the door then, breaking the tension.

“We should go,” Lottie said quickly.

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. Y’all should.”

But as you were about to follow, Rafe’s hand on your shoulder halted you. He leaned in, voice low.

“Darlin’, I told you already,” he said, “you don’t need to worry about the details. It’s business. You’re here to look good and enjoy yourself. I’ll handle the rest. Don’t bother your pretty head about it.”

The way he said it, like you weren’t even capable of understanding the weight of his world, made something twist in your gut.

“I trust you,” you managed, though it sounded more like a lie than anything else.

He smiled, just slightly. “Good. That’s all I need from you.”

The ride home was quiet, the hum of the car engine filling the space between you and Rafe. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable, either.

You glanced at him, his face set in that calm, unreadable expression. His hand rested on the wheel, the motion of his fingers hypnotic as he drove through the night.

Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence.

“You know, our first time…” His voice was low, almost teasing. “You were incredible.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat that spread across your cheeks. “Rafe…”

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “I can’t help it, Darlin’. You just make everything feel so… effortless.”

Your stomach churned. The way he spoke about it, like you were some kind of game to him.

He parked the car in the driveway, the engine turning off with a soft click.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low and commanding, like he was expecting you to obey without question.

You followed him out of the car, your pulse racing. There was something about his presence that made your heart beat faster. And as soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Rafe turned to face you.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours. Rough, urgent. His hands roamed to your back, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours.

Just as you felt yourself surrender to the kiss, his phone rang.

He froze, pulling away with a frustrated growl.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

You looked up at him, confused.

Rafe pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen. Barry.

He sighed, clearly irritated. “Of course. The one time…” He looked at you with a mix of annoyance and something darker. “Stay here.”

You didn’t move as he answered the call, his voice sharp and demanding. “Yeah, what is it? I told you, don’t call me unless it’s urgent.”

There was a brief pause. Then Rafe’s expression darkened.

“Yeah. I’m getting rid of you, Barry. One way or another. I’m trying to get clean. Don’t you get shell leave as soon a she finds out? That’s what they all do.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You could hear the tension in his voice, the dangerous undertone that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface.

He ended the call with a snap.

Turning back to you, he offered a tight smile. “Sorry about that.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded.

But inside, you felt the distance grow between you, as if the night had shattered something that wasn’t so easily put back together.

He put his hands back on your waist, a smirk playing on his face,”Shall we continue?” He leaned in. You knew he meant ‘let’s pick up from where we started’, and he wasn’t wanting no for an answer.

You bit your lip pensively, before going on your tip toes to kiss his cheek before whispering in his ear,”I’m ready when you are.”

He whistled,”Alrighty Darlin’,” he picked you up bridal style,”You are so tempting.”

You giggled,”Am I? Or do I just have that effect on you?”

He furrowed his brow,”The way Kayden, my business partners, hell even Kayden’s father look at you gives it allll away.” He licked his lips once before slowly going up the stairs to your room this time, not his. He tossed you gently on the bed and undressed himself. You lied there, staring at his perfect body. You felt different this time, even though it was only the second. You’d hope that after yesterday you were officially Cameron’s girl. But he kept shooting that idea down, or laughing it off. Is this what you really wanted? Uncertainty? I mean, you doing this would practically secure you a spot in the music industry. Hell, you already had some song samples to show Mr. Holloway. Maybe Rafe was your benefactor.

He chuckled,”You gonna keep staring, or take that dress off.” He spat into his palm and pumped his cock a few times.

You smiled weakly,”How about you take it off me?” You giggled mischievously.

He scoffed,”You love puttin’ me to work, Darlin’.” He walked closer to the edge of the bed and rolled you over on your stomach . He moved your hair out of the way and slowly kissed your neck and some parts of your exposed back while he toyed with the zipper . He eventually unzipped the dress agonizingly slow.

You groaned and rolled your eyes ,”Just get it over with, Rafe!” You didn’t mean to speak with that tone.

He leaned down and pressed some of his weight on you, leaning down to whisper in your ear,”Is that how you feel? After all I’ve down for you, Darlin’?” He stood back up and grabbed his belt from the floor. He put your hands above your head and putting the belt around your wrists tightly, making you gasp. He leaned back down to whisper in your ear again,”Since you don’t wanna be patient like a good girl, I’ll have to make you wait. I suggest you never speak to me with that tone again. You understand me?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Good girl.” He unzipped the dress completely and took it off. He blew a low whistled after seeing what you had on under your dress, well what you didn’t have on. He blew a low whistled and palmed your ass roughly,”Fuck, no bra or panties? You slut.” His hand landed on your ass with a loud crack making you yelp.

“Rafee, that hurt!” You whimper.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t get all bratty with me, Darlin’, it’ll all be over soon.” He delivered another slap on your ass.

“Rafey!” You squealed, squeezing your eyes closed.

He groaned, and his hand over your mouth, muffling your screams,”Hey, shut your fucking mouth and take it like a good girl.” He spanked your ass a few more times. By the time he was done you were a screaming and squirming mess. A few tears rolled down your cheek.

He took his hand off your mouth and slipped two of them in you’re mouth,”See? All over. ‘S ok, Darlin’. No need to cry baby.” He used his free hand to wipe the tears off your face,”I’m gonna make you feel good now, ok?”

You nodded, still whimpering.

“Alright.” He took his fingers out of your mouth and trailed a finger up and down your core before putting them in.

You moaned,”Rafeee.”

He chuckled,”Now you feel better.” He increased his pace repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“ Daddy!! Fuck, I’m close!” You squealed.

“Perfect. Hol’ on to that feeling for me.” He took his fingers out and licked your arousal off his fingers. He pumped his cock again and lined it up. He circled his tip around your entrance, which was squeezing around nothing.

He winced as he settled his tip in,”Shit, you really want this, huh? Just a few minutes ago you were being an absolute brat, now you’re a mess for me.” He bottomed out fully and groaned,”You feel so good baby.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped,”Rafeee.”

He chuckled and increased his pace, pressing his weight on you,”I love when you say my name, Darlin’. Say it again.”

You moaned,”Rafee, baby I’m close.”

He put his free hand back onto your mouth,”Shh, jus’ hol’ on f’me baby, I needa get there too.” Instead of slowing down, he kept ruthlessly pounding into you which lead you to your peak. You tried to tell him to pull out, but your words were muffled. You were on birth control but you didn’t want to take any chances. But Rafe didn’t know that.

“I’m gonna make you a mama, Darlin’.” He grunted as his hips bucked into you. Shortly after, you felt thick ropes of cum in you. He took his hand off of your mouth and took his belt off of your wrists, tossing it on the ground before laying down by you.

You sat up and traced circles on his chest silently while he gently held your fingers.

He sighed, staring deeply into your eyes,”I wanna make you a mama so badly, I meant it when u said it the first time.”

You sucked in your lips before lowering yourself to lay down on his chest,”You know you can’t..” you closed your eyes.

Silence. The only thing you heard was his heart beat.

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, you wouldn’t want me after. You wouldn’t love me after.” The pain and realization finally settled in your heart. Rafe wouldn’t love you forever.

He sat up and gently put your head on a pillow before giving you a long kiss,”I understand how you feel. And I know I don’t have the cleanest dating record, but this is different. You’re different. I actually enjoy time with you. I enjoy helping you with your career.” He kissed you again, and you opened your eyes.

“Y/n, you know I’m not much of a lover boy,” he reached into one of the nightstand drawers and pulled out a red velvet box,”I give this to women who I can see a future with, it’s a darry ring.” He blew some dust off the box before putting it in your hands and putting his around yours,”I haven’t given it to anyone, even my ex-fiancée. Open it when you’re ready.” He kissed your hands, your forehead, then your lips before getting up, picking up his clothes, and walking out the door.

You sat with your knees up to your chest for a few minutes while observing the box. You decided you were ready. You decided what you felt with him was real. You opened the box with care, to reveal a gold ring with a heart shaped ruby cut. You gasped. This had to be expensive, especially since he didn’t give it to Sofia. You tried the ring on your ring finger and it fit like a glove. It fit like it was meant for you. You kissed the heart gently, and put it back in the box before settling under your blanket and turning off the lights.

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses (MY AMAZING BETA READER TYSMM💗💗), @vogueprincess @whoreislands @greengoblinswifey

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[ll7esxs]

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

The first "I love you" in the relationship [requested]

characters: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan russ, kick

notes: SFW content, kinda chessy for me since i love angst more than this shit but whatever man whatever this fandom wants

Logan walker:

yeah you are the first who is going to say it don't argue with me.

Logan struggles with words and would never rush into saying it.

tbh i think logan has never had partners in his life :(, he kept training not knowing anything about love.

sometimes i think hesh is the one who couraged him to date and elias too, telling him that he has been more than 30 years serving for this country and even though.

elias controlled and balanced the love and working with his mother.

It happens A late-night moment at home, when he’s quiet but seems lost in thought.

I think when you have been dating for months? like more than 8 months.

You’re curled up against Logan, watching, but he’s barely paying attention. His mind is elsewhere—probably thinking about a mission he can’t talk about.

You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. He sighs closing his eyes, leaning into your touch and getting out of the blurred world he was in.

"I love you, you know that?" you said lifting your head up to look at him.

Logan freezes,oh boy even his body tensing slightly against you, you can feel that already.

Logan’s eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it—even though he’s felt it for a while.

He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words but failing.

Instead of answering right away, he gently pulls you into his arms, holding you tighter than usual. After a short pause, he finally murmurs, “…I love you too.” which made you smile into his arm, you were proud of that to let this sweet boy speak of his feeling.

Later, he shows it rather than says it—staying close, kissing you, covering you in blanket when he thinks you're asleep, and making sure you’re always safe.

because words aren’t enough, but he hopes you can feel it.

Hesh walker:

he will say it first, But he blurts it out impulsively.

hesh is the one with partners but i see he had 3 or 2? and they weren't that serious they didn't reach that level with him.

but since he is a grown ass man (28) he found you

going out with him for classic dates.

It happenes in a playful moments while teasing each other.

in the kitchen, you kept arguing playfully talking back to him gahly! he thinks to himself how did i get with a woman like this.

"god you're impossible...I love you" he said with a soft shrug hands on his hips looking down smiling.

he said it without thinking, The moment he realizes what he just said, he freezes, eyebrows raising slightly like "Well… guess that’s out now."

and you had butterflies and bugs in your stomach like hello? did this handsome just tell me that??

"oh my god david?!" you said with a happy chuckle, heart already out of your chest "you just said this!!".

you wanted to step closer to him, He watches your reaction closely, trying to act all cool and confident but is secretly panicking inside.

you shaking your head while holding his face, which lead him to hold both your arms. "I love you too!"

his grin turns soft, and he pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering, "Good. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere."

totally forgetting about the baking yall been making out. (wtf did i just type)

Keegan russ:

bro why is it so hard to write keegan, like this man is a hella mystery.

you are the one who said it sorry, cuz Keegan is way too guarded to say it first.

why i think he thought about his job first before you like he hates it if you are involved with someone like him, what if something danger happened to you because of him?he is way too cautious.

but because of those damn eyes of yours the weakest thing he will do is keeping you with him.

how did it happenes? late night walking, this man adores these times secretly especially after he has been with ya.

i think he ended up with a talk active partner? but no that much, he is just a listener and a talker sometimes.

you like it when he talks, his creative words and the sarcasm he is using making you say unbelievable about him.

He had insisted on walking you home—not out of obligation, but because it was simply in his nature.

When you reached your doorstep, you turned, your fingers curling around the doorknob. The soft glow of the porch light cast sharp shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. (lord have mercy i got too much in details)

“Well, kid," his deep voice rumbled through the quiet, rough yet familiar, "guess I’ll see you around.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips, warmth flickering in your chest at the easy finality in his tone. He turned, hands tucked into his pockets, ready to disappear into the night like he always did. (bro is batman but he never tell you that)

“Keegan?” The name left your lips before you could think twice, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him stop.

His shoulders stiffened for the briefest moment before he turned back to you, his lightened gaze steady.

You didn’t wait any longer—you just walked up to him, arms wrapping around his neck. His eyes met yours, and God, it was so hard to be honest while looking into them. It seemed just as hard for him.

He was stunned, motionless, but his gaze remained stoic, unreadable.

“I love you,” you murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He took a moment, then let out a stiff chuckle. “Must be the champain messing with your little head.”

“Shut up. I said it… I love you.” The second time, your voice was firmer. That’s when his eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips—your first time seeing him like this. Gentle.

For a long time, he doesn’t speak. The silence stretches, heavy—almost unbearable.

Then, finally, he whispers—so quiet you almost miss it.

His fingers close over yours, grip tightening as if grounding himself in the moment.

He exhales, then presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of it seeping into your skin.

“…I love you too.”

Then he went to the shadows of the streets and after that time, you never see him again...

im joking bye.

Kick:

Kick is always aware—sharp, cautious, both in his military work and personal life. Nothing slips past him.

He never talks about his partner. He’s a ghost, a skillful one. Never caught, never seen unless he wants to be. Have you seen the kill list? He’s needed, and yet the feds can’t find him.

He doesn’t have trust issues, not exactly—but he’s careful. Always watching, always a step ahead. Especially when it comes to his relationships.

He even hesitated to date you, afraid you’d get hurt because of his work—afraid that if anything happened, he’d never forgive himself. Not even in death.

But he went for it anyway. Because he knew how to protect you. He kept you far from enemies, tracked every possible threat—all without you even knowing. He was secretive like that.

Man fuck the enemies he thought, he is in his 30s and we live one time why don't just have a partner in ur life?.

Not even the gang knew he had a partner. Only Merrick, who one day casually let it slip in front of him—like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

So he said it it just slips out casually not knowing the effect he will do on ya.

He said it during a random completely unromantic moment.

He doesn’t even realize what he said until your eyes widen. "Oh, damn. Did I just say that?"

You shrugged, still shocked. “Uhm… yeah, you did!” You shook your head, trying to process it.

He tried to play it off, acting like it was no big deal. “Well, yeah, of course I love you. Have you seen yourself?”

You couldn’t find the words. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, still stunned, heart pounding in your chest.

But when he saw you getting emotional, the act dropped. He smiled—small, genuine—and muttered, “Alright… yeah. I love you. For real.”

And later, he proved it. Small, silent acts of devotion—fixing things for you without being asked, making sure your coffee was just right, staying up just to watch you sleep peacefully.

[wickermayne]

Decided to do another month kink event 🤪

Kinkuary 2025

Short Naruto/Hinata smut drabbles that I hope I can fill up the month with, enjoy! Chapter 1 is Age Gap.

She’s barely legal, though you’d never guess it from the shape of her body.

An hourglass figure with fat tits and a thick ass, her youth showing only in the pristine features of her face.

And her attitude, so worshipful and in awe, even though she’d have been a child during the Pain invasion and the war — a fan girl, high on the stories her elders told her, from what was taught in her history books, and close enough to the figure itself that she could develop a crush, or maybe something more deep-rooted.

Naruto had seen it many times before, and this wasn’t the first time he’d taken advantage of it — but Hinata was different than the rest of the girls.

There was something more genuine about Hinata, something about her nature, so docile, shy and sweet, that tickled Naruto in a way that the others didn’t.

Maybe it was because of how Hinata was so innocent….so corruptible.

Always clinging to every word Naruto said, like it was gospel.

“When’s your jounin exam again?”

Hinata blinked up at him, trying to clear her brain from its lust-addled state, her cunt with cute, baby clenches on his cock as she dealt with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Naruto smirked down at her and made it worse, rolling his hips, forcing out a low moan from Hinata as her thighs continued to twitch, her arousal dripping down the latex of the condom until it soaked against the edge of his pubic hair.

“A-ah, it’s next month, Naruto-sama,” Hinata managed to gasp out, lavender eyes glued to where they connected, whining when Naruto pulled out.

“Y’know,” Naruto drawled as he pressed his length down on Hinata’s throbbing clit, rubbing his girth lazily back and forth on it. He watched as she bit her lip, eyes nearly rolling back in her head, and he knew she’d accept his word like God, then. “I think you should postpone your exam.”

“P-postpone it?”

Naruto hummed in acknowledgement, drawing his hips back and thrusting his fat tip against her clit.

“Ooooh, Naruto-sama!”

Naruto loved the way she moaned his name, and how easy it was to get her to do it too.

“Yeah, I think you should wait to take the exam…wait until after you have my baby.”

Her eyes were sharp now, cutting through her arousal, her mouth trembling as she stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Kakashi would scold him later for taking out a productive member from their work force — but how could Naruto hold back when Hinata looked at him like that?

“You want that, don’t you, ‘Nata?” Naruto purred, his hand caressing her belly, where her womb would be. “To have my baby?”

She answered by reaching between his legs, clumsily grabbing at the condom before she ripped it off and threw it the side. She thrusted her hips up off the bed, sliding her cunt over the underside of his cock, her arousal staining into his skin.

“Please, please, please, oh, Naruto-sama, I want it more than anything!”

Naruto slotted his cock against her entrance, watching her lips stretch in acceptance around his tip.

“And then, what if I don’t want you to do exam after that? What if I want you to stay home so I can keep gettin’ you pregnant?”

Hinata wrapped her legs around his hips, her heels digging into his back and drawing him into her hot, needy cunt. She stared up at him with the skin of her cheeks burnt red, and her eyes filled with devotion.

“That would make me the happiest woman in the world, Naruto-sama…please don’t tell me it’s a joke. Promise me.”

Naruto cussed as he thrusted into Hinata’s eager cunt, her walls pulsing around him already, primed to be bred.

For a moment, Naruto thought maybe he was the one wrapped around her finger.

Well, he didn’t mind it.

“I promise, ‘Nata.”

And then he fucked her like a beast, with the instincts of animal ready to rut, building up to painting her walls whiter than her porcelain skin. Turning her into an eager teen mother, ready to build a clan with him.

[enchaentingly]

        relief flutters weakly at his answer, but it doesn’t help to make her world any more vibrant, sharp, and clear. it’s still fuzzy. at least if he wanted to hurt her, it would’ve made sense. she knows she deserves it. there’s enough time for her to protest his claim, surely, not at all plagued by the confusion he keeps trying to tell her about. she is confused, but not about this. she’s confused, and heartbroken as to why he feels unwelcome. why he feels rejected and cast out, unwanted. she’s the only one to deserve feeling that way.  “ n- no, i do. i do want you here. you’ve been so kind, you have to let me thank you, i … there has to be something … ”  she needs him to understand, but allie can’t find any more words.

        she’s not as strong as she thinks. still sitting up, she presses her hands into the soft feeling of her covers, only finding sensation on one side. it’s not very grounding at all, the plushness sh underneath the searching pads. she squeezes her eyes shut, tries to keep from ruminating on the cycles of pain, and guilt soaked regret. the reality of the gore that stains her neck, and traveling down. it comes to the closure of half magic, half ruin. allie doesn’t have to comprehend the rapid signals her body sends her to know what she needs. her eyes open, cloudy with tears, falling in between one blink and the next. still, her gaze pulls to the sight of him, again. he looks so uncomfortable, grounding himself into the wood of the floor instead of anything else. her insides shred with the panic that something is wrong, and she can’t figure it out. there’s too much to go through. and he hasn’t given her anything besides the truth that he knew her mother and the urge to get home, and to be safe, without him. she watches his face, and can’t place anything but bravery and resolve. she remembers, when she had been closer to him, after the fall, she hadn’t heard his heart. she remembers seeing him flinch away from the open wound, bending. allie makes a desperate guess that would hush her prickling senses.

         everything after that feels like it could be happening all at the same time. he’s feeding her instructions with a stern voice that makes her feel just as small as he seems to remember, he turns, he’s going to leave. he’s going to leave. and he’s not going to come back, and neither will she, and now that the bleeding stopped, the pain turns bone dry and unsolved. every bit of her screams, even while allie knows she can’t. she can’t, but she does cry, and pours, all the same. frustration piles high in her so deep that she burns. she might even be angry, the ugliest feeling of all.  “ just- just, wait, please! ”  she does him the simple favor of not trying to stand again, but she shakes, ceaselessly, even without the movement of her limbs.  “ please. please, i haven’t seen her in- in seven years and i haven’t even come looking for her, this time. and you’re- you’re here. i don’t know anyone else that knows her, i’ve followed her everywhere i could, and- and her stories but none of it’s ever done anything and i … ”  her sob turns choked up, mangled. she doesn’t want it to leave, anyway.  “ i just want my mom. ”  in the leave of her grief, silence comes, and she can’t look at him any more. allie’s eyes, filled with tears, fall to her bare knees. somehow, she hadn’t skinned those. it doesn’t take long at all for the worry that he’ll go, anyway, take over the sadness, the emptiness. she has to do something.  “ i can close the wound, i can- so you can stay or- or you could come back, i just … i can’t lose you, i only just found you. ”  the flower flower, unlike the root, is stored on the other side of the bed. allie shoves this, too down her throat, anticipating the sour burn despite the sweetpea exterior, protests from something meant to be used on the outside, gone on the inside of something alive. it doesn’t matter, she knows she won’t mend fast enough for it to be worth it.  “ can you- can you come back? or … or leave something? so i can find you again? ”  again, her body’s greedy, sagging at the edge of her bed at the smallest notion of rest.

Frowning, Reid recognises the spike in her heartbeat. "I didn't get you all the way back here, to hurt you," Damn, he hopes he doesn't at the end of all this. She's putting ideas in his head, and he's squeezing his eyes shut, shunning the depraved imagery. It's been overwhelming enough without her fears dousing her with cortisol; it's a feral trait to know that like it's syrup in a coffee.

She barely understands what she's asking him. "You don't want me here," Statement. Fact. Her friend is supposed to be here, so it's not him burdened with responsibility. Reid finds he's in the gravity of too many witches. Some are familiar with dragging him through the rocky plains of hell and back. Even more than that like to see him squirm under the weight of his desperation.

He's close to crossing the room and stopping the young witch's movements. But he fixes himself still, feet rooted to the floor — almost like the magic in the house has curled around his boots and crawled inside his bones; claimed him as a piece in Allie's little realm.

It's odd, watching her magic at work. He's seen so much of it, years of it, in the futile search for a cure. But it's all very different from the next; no black-and-white law. No mantra that Reid's used to in which he's clear on everything. Once it has been as easy as right and wrong had once been. Witchcraft just a mess of energy that prickles against him; Allie's ingredients aren't like power that envelops the room. He's felt that too, from some. The monster chasing answers in the darker practices; grimoires in stacks at the apartment; frantic hunts for an answer to his affliction. All he's got from it is nightmares and memories of agony.

"Allie." He uses it again, so she might listen this time. The violence at her throat stops its weak trickle as the root and flower do its work but she's vulnerable. She's been that, this whole time.

His instructions are clearer, the second time: "Lay back down. Call your friend. Rest."

And then, he rips his boots up from the invisible binds that had him there for far too long. The cavern in his chest tells him it's wrong to leave her exposed, but he doesn't have another option. He can't stay.

Reid pivots, nodding towards the bed expectantly, as he turns to leave. "Take care."

[hitwiththefandomz]

Hello dear. How are you?

Wouldn't it be cool if Metalhead had a female voice in new tmnt cartoon iteration. Idk why I thought it was gendered as female despite being a robot. Until lately I heard it saying "I will protect mutants" in a male voice. What do you think.

Was that a missed opportunity?

Personally I kind of like a mute metalhead. I grew up with 2012 metalhead which if I remember correctly, only kind of made beeps, boops, and other robotic noises

A robot voice would work for metalhead, but if I had any say in the matter I’d actually go in a different direction

I think it would be cool if the character either had a classic “robot voice”/gender neutral voice or if there was both a male and female voice speaking at the same time

Just something to add to the character, metalhead is so cool and the franchise could do so much with the robro!

[moeblob]

"Him? Oh, you know, he's kind of a loser." - probably everyone except for his younger brother.

Germaine is based on the layer of hell (Dante's Inferno) for material wealth before self, others, and god. So basically very materialistic and possessive of his belongings. Unfortunately, his younger brother qualifies as a belonging in his mind. So he does his absolute best to keep his brother safe and sound and scratch free - which is a bit tough in a post apocalyptic setting but he mostly manages.

Also a fact I just like to mention: he is incapable of lying.