#i could easily tell you the sneakers i love too

[writingouthere]

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.

"I....want you to be my mommy?"

Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.

"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."

"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"

"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.

"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.

"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."

"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"

"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.

"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.

It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.

Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"

Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.

"She's really nice, I like her."

"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.

You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"

That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.

Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."

"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.

"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.

Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.

"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.

Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.

"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"

"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"

Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.

You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"

"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.

Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.

Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.

Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.

"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.

"Let's go!"

Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.

You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.

As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."

He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.

He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.

"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.

"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"

"Gojo."

Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.

"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.

You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.

Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.

As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.

"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.

"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.

"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.

The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.

"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.

"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.

"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.

"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.

"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.

"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"

Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.

"Hey now, there's children here."

Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.

You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.

Although.

Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-

Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.

As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.

Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.

shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.

also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.

Edit: wrote the prequel, here!

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x stripper fem!reader

Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.

Chapter summary: Tension only intensifies after Tangerine's proposal and you and him grow much closer... (5k)

Warnings: SMUT (mdni), mentions of sex w*rk and slut shaming, pinv, insecure!reader, passionate sex, dom!tangerine and sub!reader undertones, praise, oral sex (f receiving), reader is kinda traumatized but tan is very sweet to her.

credit : my love @little-miss-dilf-lover 🤍

BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST

"She did what?" Lemon asks, his arms crossed, as he watches his brother finish counting the cash he always hands out on Sunday.

Tangerine doesn't look up, rounding up the envelopes quickly as he puts the cash inside. "She kissed my cheek," he says and sits up, running a hand in his hair. He looks exhausted. 

Lemon smirks, sounding scandalized. "And you're only telling me this now? Is this why she's been hovering around you since Monday?" 

"I don't know, Lem," Tangerine sighs.

"Well, aren't ya gonna elaborate on why she kissed you?"

"Kissed my cheek," Tangerine groans, shutting his eyes as he drops his head into his hands, "And I don't know why, I guess just because I drove her home. As a thank you, I suppose. Not a big deal, really—I don't know why I even mentioned it—" 

"Bullshit," Lemon sing-songs. "You're dancing around your feelings, as ya always do. You mentioned it because you want me to validate them, as per-fuckin-usual! To spell it out for you, as one says, as I have always fuckin' done. " 

"My feelings—or yours— aren't what's important here. It's hers and I don't know what she's feeling or thinking," Tangerine says and stands, taking the envelopes in his hand. "And anyway, I'm her boss. It's an abuse of power, innit?"

Lemon pauses for a moment and then shrugs, "Who cares if she has feelings for you too?" 

Tangerine narrows his eyes, very unsure, "I care. It still sounds scummy," he says and then hands Lemon the envelopes. "Drop these in the mailbox would ya?" He pauses and then he takes back the one with your name scribbled on the front. "Could you tell Y/n to come up here? I need to tell her something."

Lemon sends him a knowing look and a smile curls his lips. 

"Not like that," Tangerine deadpans, clearly unamused as he fiddles with the envelop anxiously, "She needs more money and she wants more shifts. I don't want that for her, you know she doesn't deserve that, not after what happened, so I'm just gonna give her a little extra cash—" 

Lemon's smile fades instantly. He looks at his brother with concern, "Mate, Leo won't like that—you really should be careful with—" 

Tangerine cuts him off, his expression serious. "I can handle Leo, Lemon, will you please just ask 'er to come up here?"

Lemon doesn't seem convinced but he nods. Tangerine looks down, gripping his desk and he collapses onto his chair again, holding his head in his hands. Why does Lemon have to question him all the fuckin' time? His jaw tenses, trying to shake the thought that his brother could have a point. 

He's lost in his thoughts when he hears your sneakers squeak up the stairs and then a knock on his office door. Instantly, he stands, trying to hide his smile as he calls out, "Come in, darlin'." When you do and he sees you, you're dressed in a blue dress that ends mid-thigh, a jacket, and laced-knee-high white socks. You really do look like anyone's wet dream, even when you aren't trying. Tangerine's cheeks burn and he represses the feeling. 

"Hi," you say, walking up to him.

Since the night he'd driven you home, you'd been less on edge with him. You've both had longer conversations and more stolen glances than you've ever had. Hell, he's even been spending some of your breaks with you. And he knows using the smoking excuse won't last forever.

He knows it and so do you, but neither of you mention it. 

"Hi," Tangerine says. He leans against his desk, his eyes roaming over you. His thumb swipes over the envelope and he clears his head, handing it to you, "Here's your pay." 

You look confused when you take it. Usually, he just puts those in the common mailbox. He has never handed one out personally. "Oh, thanks," you say and smile up at him. You open the bag that's hanging from your shoulder and tuck the envelope inside. 

Tangerine's eyebrows crease and he walks behind his desk again, looking for something in the drawer. 

You watch him curiously. "Tan, are you okay?" 

The nickname rolls off your tongue easily and an involuntary shiver runs up his spine. He almost regrets telling you you can call him that, if only because it makes him lose his mind just a little more than he usually does when he's around you.

Tangerine pauses as he thinks for a moment. He looks up, his expression still neutral as he walks back over and hands you a wad of bills. Your heart thumps as you take the money, even more confused. You flick your thumb over the paper, approximately counting how much it is. 

"What is this?" you ask, realizing there is almost four times the amount you make in a night in your hands. 

"A bonus," Tangerine says calmly as if this is nothing. "You said you're tryin' to save up for school and I don' want you workin' here any more than ya have to." He looks away, straightening himself. If he looks at you any longer, he'll break. "It's really nothin'," he adds.

"Nothing? This is a lot of money," you whisper, pushing the bills out to him again, "I can't accept this for no reason." 

Tangerine looks down at you, his eyes darkening a little as he shakes his head. His hands clasp around your wrists, his skin cold against yours, as he pushes your hands into your chest again. "You can."

"No, I- I really can't," you squeak, a little panicked. You don't know what this means. If this is really unconditional or if it will somehow bite you back in the ass. You trust him, sure, but he is still a man. You look down at the cash and then up into his eyes, your cheeks feeling unbearably warm. "D-do you want something in return?"

You're unsure about the question, but it wouldn't be the first time someone who is your boss has asked you for some extra services. 

Tangerine's cheeks immediately turn crimson and he drops your hands as if you'd burned him. "No!" he says hoarsely like he can't believe you'd even ask him that. "Bloody hell, no. That is not what I want!" He sounds almost scandalized and you panic. 

"Sorry! I assumed—"

"Well, don't! God, angel, you deserve so much better than that," Tangerine says breathlessly as if the words escape him in a rush. You pause, staring up at him as he says this, and those familiar butterflies you only feel when he's around burst in your stomach.

He always speaks so softly when you're around, always calling you darling or angel—it's seriously beginning to mess with your brain. 

"Just, take the money, please," Tangerine insists, "no strings attached."

You nod, adding the cash to your bag without another word. You pause and look up at him. You want to ask why he's doing this? What makes you so special? But instead, you ask something else; 

"What do I deserve?" 

Tangerine is a little taken aback by the question, his body going taut as he stares at you. "Pardon?"

Your chest tightens as you walk closer to him. You have no clue what you're doing. Men are usually so easy to read, so easy to seduce, and so very easy to fool.

With one look, you can have them wrapped around your little finger. But with Tangerine, it's completely new. You have no clue what works with him or what you even want from him. All you know is, you've never felt like this with anyone. Tangerine backs up. He inhales, clutching the edge of the desk as his breath hitches and his gaze stays on yours. 

"You said I deserve better," you whisper, dropping your bag to the ground. As if on cue, the lights from the lounge suddenly dim and you realize everyone else has gone home for the night. What are you even doing? You pause in front of him, your chest rising and falling as you lift your hand to press your palm on his chest. 

"What is better?"

Tangerine looks at you. His eyes are dark. He's not a stupid man. He knows what you're doing. He knows what you want. He just doesn't know if you even understand exactly what it is you're asking of him.

He's not used to feeling powerless so he stands up straighter and cups your jaw with his hand. He's still gentle with you; his fingers touching your skin reverently and loosening when you gasp in surprise.

"Why do ya do this?" He counters, his voice raspy. He pushes his body even closer to yours until he's so close he can smell you and fuck, you smell divine. 

"Do what?" you ask. 

Tangerine tilts his head, smirking, "You know what," he whispers and leans down so his lips hover near the shell of your ear, "Entertain men for money—bring them into that filthy little room," he pulls his head away a moment and glances towards the glass where he has an easy view of the door to one of the club's sex rooms, "and drain their fuckin' pockets. Hm?" 

Your stomach flips and your skin feels burning hot. Is he making fun of you? You try to shift your face from his hold but Tangerine doesn't let you. He looks at you and reads you like a book. "'M not making fun of you or calling you a slut, angel. I don't think you are one, you know that. Which is why I'm confused. I'm real fuckin' confused about why the sweetest and the smartest girl I've ever met hides behind some string of lingerie and flirty touches. Ya need validation that badly?"

You frown, his words hurting a little. But, you've started this so you have to take it from him. You can. You've taken much worse from men. You look into his eyes and keep your voice level. "You have no damn clue about my life, Tangerine, so you should stop assuming you know me."  

He frowns. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know a damn thing about your life," he pauses, searching your face. His mind is spinning and his gaze drifts to your lips. "But I want to." He isn't lying. He does want to know and some primal part of him wants to help. He wants to provide for you, and take you far far away from this life. 

It's not safe and you deserve so much more. 

"Let me guess, you want to 'take care' of me?" You say behind a mocking voice, your face still in his hand. "You're not the first man who's said that to me."

Tangerine's frown deepens and he strokes his thumb over your cheek. "Well, I know damn well I'm the first one who fuckin' means it," he growls, and the pull he's been feeling finally works because he's leaning in and kissing you.

You're a little surprised but you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing yourself up against him as you return the kiss.

He's kissing you passionately, his hands sliding down your cheeks and sides until he's gripping your hips. You've kissed many men but none have felt like this. It feels both overwhelming and wonderful. You run your hands in his hair, pulling on his curls. 

Tangerine spins you around, sitting you on his desk as he continues to kiss you. He's well aware this is very much fucked, but he can't help himself. The sounds you make against his lips are making him lose his mind. He cups your cheeks again, kissing along your jaw gently. The kisses last until he feels your hand slide down his torso to the zipper of his trousers and he hisses, disconnecting his lips from your skin. 

He stops your hand, fingers curling around your wrist, and you gasp, eyes shooting open. "I'm so sorry," you whisper, your voice small. Tangerine pauses as he calms his breathing. He looks into your eyes, his gaze softening as he shakes his head.

"You don't need to do that," is all he says as you drop your hand back to your lap. 

"But I do want to," you interject. Tangerine just shakes his head, caressing your cheek. 

"No, angel, I can't," he tries to explain. 

"Is it because you think I'm dirty?" 

Tangerine frowns, looking at you seriously now. "What?"

"Because I've been with other men—because you must think I'm easy—" you say, your voice shaky, "I- I'm not. I haven't had sex for money in a while, I promise I don't do it anymore and—and I was always safe. Please– I'm not dirty—" 

Tangerine can hear your panic and he tightens his hold on your face, gently shushing you. "Angel, I don't think you're dirty. I know ya take precautions. I know how this industry works, remember? I fuckin' own the place," he says with some disdain and then sighs, "which is exactly the problem. Kissing you was already a boundary I shouldn't have crossed. I'm your boss. I'm supposed to be better than this."

You look at him, relaxing a little as you begin to understand. "Tangerine, I don't care. No one has to know." 

He frowns, sending you a warning look. 

"I'm serious," you say and play with his tie a little, squeezing your thighs. His kisses have turned you on and now he wants to pretend it never happened? 

No fucking way. 

"I won't tell anyone. Please, I want you. Show me what I deserve," you whisper, pulling him closer so he's leaning over you as you kiss along his jaw.

Tangerine groans, his eyes closing as he enjoys the sensation of your lips. He's slowly losing control. This feels so right and he desperately wants to show you how a man is supposed to touch you. How he's supposed to love and care for you. His hands grip your hips, pressing his nose in your hair as he inhales.

"Fuck, angel, you're gonna be the death of me," he whispers, his resolve finally breaking. Still, he pulls away and lifts you onto your feet. "But, not here. I'm taking you home, if you'd like," Tangerine questions and you nod, your heart pounding. He smiles and takes your hand, squeezing it to reassure you as he picks up your bag and guides you towards the door. 

During the drive to his apartment, the tension is palpable. You shift in your seat, your cheeks warm, hooking your fingers under your panties as you pull them down your legs. You bite your lip, hearing the small inhale from Tangerine as his hands clench around the steering wheel. He's desperately trying to stay focused on the road.

You look at him, smiling, as you wrap your panties around the gear shift of his car. The faint, delicate, smell of your arousal fills the air and Tangerine curses underneath his breath.

"You naughty fuckin' girl," he mutters in your ear as soon you arrive in his apartment, his large hands palming your waist. He kisses you up against the wall of his living room for a moment until he swiftly hoists you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso and he walks you to his bedroom. "'M gonna have to teach ya a lesson, hmm."

You expect something rough and dirty. You're used to rough and dirty. But, with Tangerine it's different. It's always different. When he lays you on the mattress and slowly kisses every inch of your kiss as he undresses you, your head spins. No one you've ever been with has been this slow and gentle. He's touching you like he's worshiping you and can't help but feel a little self-conscious when he finally has you naked. You lift your arms to cover your chest. 

"Tsk, none of that," Tangerine scolds as he lifts his head from where he was kissing your stomach and takes your wrists in his hands, pushing them away so he can admire you. "Fuck, you're the prettiest girl I have ever seen." 

You turn your head, hiding a moan in his pillow. He'll deal with that later, he thinks, as he looks down at your bare pussy. "Can ya open your legs for me, my angel? Can I make you feel good? Is that okay?" 

Your head is spinning and you nod, parting your legs. Tangerine pushes your thighs up and apart, kissing your inner thigh. He sucks some hickies for good measure as you moan, your hands fisting in his silk sheets.

"Oh, T-Tan," you whisper when you feel his breath hit your clit, your legs trembling. 

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he whispers hoarsely and kisses your pussy, attaching his mouth to your clit. He takes his time with you, kissing and sucking. He listens to your cues, adjusting his position as much as you need him to. His mustache tickles your skin and you're a moaning mess.

You keep hiding the sounds you make out of embarrassment, either turning your head or biting your lip, and he's not having it. After tasting you, he climbs up over you and captures your lips in his. 

He wants you to taste yourself on his lips. You arch your back, unclenching your hands from the sheets as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Tangerine's hand slides up your inner thigh as he slides his fingers up and down over your slit, occasionally teasing your entrance. "Can I?" He asks for permission and when you nod, he pushes one finger into you. 

You gasp, your mind going hazy. "I- I want to make you feel g-good," you whimper, your eyes teary as you try to keep them open and keep being good for him.

You're usually so good at this. At sex. You're so good at being exactly what the man wants you to be but Tangerine doesn't seem to want anything for himself and it's confusing and all you can do is let him lead you. He smiles, kissing your cheeks.

"You already are," he whispers, adding another finger as he opens you up for him. There is no way in hell you're giving him head, not when he guesses that's how you've had to pleasure the men that come into his lounge. He shivers with disgust.

This is for you and he can enjoy himself without forcing his dick down your poor throat. 

He continues whispering sweet nothings in your ear as your nails drag along his back. Once you're wet enough and he's lost most of his clothing and slid on a condom he keeps in his dresser drawer, he presses his cock against your pussy.

Your small wanton moans are music to his ears and he's definitely enjoying himself as he slowly pushes into you, keeping his gaze on yours for any sign of reluctance or discomfort. He's taking his time with you, wanting to memorize every position he has you in as he tells you he wants to hear you.

"D-do you want me on top?" you suddenly ask out of habit, still determined to please him. Tangerine shakes his head, keeping his arm behind your head as he caresses your hair. He's balls deep inside you now, the sound of flesh against flesh ringing in your ears, and your voice is breathless. Your head hits the pillows with every thrust he makes as you struggle to keep your eyes on him.

"No," he says sternly, "Just keep your eyes on me. There, good girl. Enjoy yourself," his voice is thick and raspy. He keeps a steady rhythm, teasing you and watching you fall apart. The sound of the city from outside becomes white noise and Tangerine isn't sure how long he's been fucking you but the sky is slowly becoming lighter. 

"Tan," you whimper as you pull him closer, shutting your eyes as his forehead rests on yours. "'M close," you tell him, wrapping one leg around his hip as you bury your face in his neck, you keep suppressing your moans even when he's told you he wants to hear you. 

"You can come but I want to hear you, angel," Tangerine groans, feeling close himself. "Can you do that for me?" 

You whimper, catching his gaze as you nod. You arch up into him, breasts pressed to his chest as you moan. You barely even recognize yourself. You're so used to the fake moans that the real ones sound so foreign. 

"Fuck me," Tangerine curses, holding you close as one of his hands grips the headboard tightly. The sound of his bed creaking and hitting the wall fills his ears. He can feel you clench around him, moaning as you finish, which triggers his own release and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Your hands relax on his back, your moans subsiding as your chest heaves. Suddenly, everything is silent and he's not sure what to do. He doesn't want to scare you and he himself has never really had sex with anyone he cared about as much as he does you. This is all new and he feels like if he makes a mistake, he could lose you forever. 

"You okay?" he whispers, his voice shaky. 

You nod and he pulls out, pulling off the condom and quickly leaning over his bed to discard it in the trash not far from his bed. When he pulls himself back up, he adjusts the blanket so it covers himself. You do the same, sitting up and pulling as much of the blanket over you as you can. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment. You're both simply staring at each other. You can't believe you just had sex with your boss and what might be worse is that you don't regret it. You know you should, but you don't. You can't bring yourself to.

"Can I get you anything? Water?"

You shake your head, swinging your legs over the side of the bed as you stand. Tangerine hands you his shirt he'd thrown beside the bed and you wrap it around yourself. "'M just gonna pee," you whisper.

You don't wait for an answer as you walk past him. You wander to the bathroom you'd seen in the hall. As you button up the shirt, you have a strange feeling someone is watching you so you look up.

You let out a sharp scream when you see Lemon standing in the hallway, clearly half-asleep. Hearing your scream he jumps and screams too and rubs his eyes.

You hear stumbling and then Tangerine, only wearing his boxers now, practically throws himself past the doorway. He slides next to you, pushing you behind him on instinct. He's on edge until he sees it's just his brother and his shoulders relax. You finish up the buttons of the shirt, your cheeks burning hot as you are unable to speak or ask the questions you so desperately want to ask. 

"Well, this is a lovely surprise," Lemon sighs, rubbing his eyes as he yawns. "Ya both know it's almost 5 am, yeah?"

"Yes, thank you," Tangerine retorts, his voice strained as he glares at Lemon, "You can go back to sleep now." 

Lemon smirks, his eyes locking with yours. "Hi, Angel," he waves with a smirk.

Embarrassment washes over you.

You like Lemon, you've always liked Lemon. He was one of your favorite bodyguards. He always made you and the other girls laugh when situations became tense. You had no clue he lived with Tangerine. 

"Piss off," Tangerine hisses in a whisper you can clearly hear and Lemon raises his hand in surrender, using the bathroom first. Once the door shuts, Tangerine turns to you and you look completely mortified. "Hey, it's okay, he's my brother," he explains. 

"Your brother?" you whisper back, a little frazzled now. 

Tangerine nods, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear on instinct as he caresses your cheek. Thankfully, you don't flinch away from him as you're comforted by his touch. "Yeah, he's harmless."

You shake your head, moving past the brother's information to something more important. "Tan, he probably thinks you paid me! Oh god, this is horrible!" you whisper-shout, lowering your head in your hands. "He's gonna think I'm a whore and then he's gonna tell everyone at the club a-and–"

"Woah, darlin', shhh," Tangerine grips your shoulders, his voice still low so Lemon doesn't hear the conversation through the bathroom. "He definitely won't think that, okay? Trust me. And anyway, Lem isn't a gossip. He won't tell a soul."

"Ya, he's right, I ain't a snitch. My lips are sealed," Lemon interrupts, leaning against the bathroom door, zipping his mouth shut with an invisible zipper and Tangerine straightens up, turning back around to look at his brother.

Tangerine sends Lemon a don't scare her look and Lemon smirks. He looks at you and his gaze softens. "You better invite yer bird for breakfast, T." That is all Lemon says before he disappears back into his room down the hall.  

And so, an hour later, after neither you nor Tangerine could fall asleep, you're sitting at the small dining room table. Lemon is nursing a cup of warm tea while Tangerine butters up his toast. The air feels thick as you pick at the crumbs of your own, slightly burnt, toast, staring at the pink and yellow-checkered tablecloth on their living room table.

"It was our mums'," Lemon pipes up, watching you. "It's quite cheesy. Tangerine hates it." 

"I don't hate it. It was mums'," Tangerine interrupts, glaring at Lemon for a second but then his gaze returns to you and he clears his throat. You look up, smiling. Something in your chest flutters and you want to know more about them.

Lemon reads your mind. "Our foster mum was a gem," he says and looks at Tangerine and the latter nods, still quiet. He doesn't add on to the conversation and you don't want to pry. There is a sadness about Tangerine when Lemon speaks of their mum.

"My mum was a real piece of shit," you interrupt, unsure how to add to the conversation. You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a moment. It probably wasn't the best segment considering both of them are looking at you with confusion. You take a mouthful of your toast, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"So, why'd you become a stripper?"

Tangerine frowns, jabbing his elbow into Lemon's side as he hisses; "What is wrong with you?!"

You laugh, shaking your head, "It's okay, it's just a question." You drop your toast, avoiding their gazes. "It was to save up money for uni, and now well, to keep up with the cost—" your laugh becomes dry, "and it's harder to leave this business than it is to start."

Tangerine is quiet and his stomach twists. He feels an immense guilt as you talk.

"What are you studying?" Lemon asks, beating his brother to the question. 

"Criminology," you say, sipping your drink, "I want to go into law."

Both Lemon and Tangerine sneak a glance you don't see and the conversation continues to flow. Lemon clears his throat and makes a joke while Tangerine remains quiet as he watches you finish your food. He likes watching you laugh with Lemon, he'll take any opportunity to see your smile.

He glances at the clock, secretly praying the hand stops so he can spend more time with you but once you see the time, you're excusing yourself. 

"At least let the bastard drive you home," Lemon eventually calls from the sink as he finishes the few dishes, and Tangerine hands you your jacket as you stand in the entrance. "Tis the least he can do after shagging you." 

"Lemon!" Tangerine hisses angrily.

"My mouth is shut, I remember!"

You laugh again, smiling at their banter. "I won't say no to that," you quip with a smile and Tangerine's shoulders relax.

Once you're both in his car again, he glances down and sees your panties on his gear shift. A deep blush settles on his cheeks. "You can keep them," you say nonchalantly, not seeming bothered by your missing undergarment "as a souvenir." You wink. You're clearly joking. 

Tangerine pauses, hesitating, and then takes the panties stuffs them in his pocket and clears his throat. 

"I didn't know you and Lemon were brothers," you say, looking out the window for a second before he starts the car, "You never talk at work."

Tangerine nods, keeping his eyes on the road. "We do, sometimes, but we mostly keep it hushed. It usually isn't good to mix family and business, but we make it work."

You nod, smiling. "I understand. I think it's wonderful how close you are."

"Thank you," Tangerine says and looks at you from the corner of his eye, smiling too. Without another word, you lean over and kiss him. It's quick, your lips gliding over his as your hand touches his cheek. Tangerine hums against the kiss as you pull away and his eyes open to look into yours. 

"Is this okay?" you ask softly. 

Tangerine's head screams at him that no, this is indeed not okay, that this is dangerous and you should be as far away from him as possible, but his heart yearns for you and for once in his life, he doesn't want to ignore his heart.

He nods, kissing you again as he leans his forehead on yours. "Yeah, this is okay. More than okay." 

You smile, squeezing his hand. You feel like nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, Tangerine's phone rings in the center console and he picks it up. The caller ID reads Leo and his jaw tenses. You settle in your seat, looking at him curiously. "Who is it?" you ask innocently, catching on to Tangerine's sour expression. 

Tangerine turns off his phone and stuffs it in his pocket. 

"No one. No one you need to worry about," he says, focusing on the road as he starts the car.

You hum, not wanting to pry but you can't shake the weird feeling bubbles in your stomach.

[meazalykov]

money talks

sydney lohmann x rich!reader

summary: you spoil your footballer girlfriend

during a crisp autumn evening in munich, you’re scrolling through your phone, waiting for sydney to finish her post-match activities. 

bayern just secured a solid 3-0 victory against hoffenheim, cool right? sydney played a huge role in the second goal with an assist that had you grinning like a fool in the stands.

you’ve never been one for modest celebrations, especially when it comes to her. 

for you, victories..even the small ones..deserve to be rewarded, and you already know exactly how you’ll celebrate tonight.

your gaze drifts to the sleek black-and-gold box on the passenger seat of your car. inside are the limited-edition nike sneakers sydney mentioned in passing weeks ago..shoes that sold out within minutes of the drop. 

it had taken some persistence, a couple of calls, and more money than you really care to admit, but they were worth it. 

for her, everything is.

your parents built an empire from the ground up, starting with a chain of luxury hotels that expanded globally over the years. 

when they passed away unexpectedly, they left everything to you..their only child...along with a massive inheritance and a portfolio of investments that ensured you could live comfortably for the rest of your life times ten. 

though the wealth sometimes feels overwhelming, you’ve chosen to use it to make those you love happy, especially sydney, your girlfriend of four years.

a soft vibration pulls your attention back to your phone: 

syd: done! meet me by the entrance?

smiling, you reply quickly, already starting the car to head toward her.

when you pull up, sydney is waiting with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her hair still damp from her shower. she flashes you a smile that’s brighter than any stadium lights, and it’s the kind of look that makes you wonder if she realizes how easily she could ask for the moon, and you’d find a way to get it.

“hey, babe,” she says, leaning in through the window to kiss you softly. 

“you waited long?”

“never too long for you syd,” you reply, reaching over to unlock the door for her. as she slides into the seat, you try to contain your excitement about the gift, but your fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel, a small tell you know she’s noticed.

“what’s got you so excited?” she teases, tossing her bag into the backseat. 

“you look like you’re up to something.”

you bite back a grin, shrugging in mock nonchalance. 

“me? up to something? never.”

her eyes narrow playfully, but she lets it go for now, leaning back into the seat with a content sigh. 

“i’m starving. can we grab something on the way home?”

“of course,” you say, already mentally planning her favorite takeout spot. but first, you know you can’t wait any longer. as you pull into a nearby parking lot, you reach for the box in the passenger seat, holding it out to her. 

“before that, i got you something.”

her eyebrows raise as she glances at the box. 

“y/n? again?? you didn’t have to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently, sliding it onto her lap. 

“but i wanted to. open it.”

sydney hesitates for a moment, looking at you like she’s trying to figure out how she ended up with someone so determined to spoil her. then she smiles, lifting the lid. syd’d eyes widen as she takes in the sneakers, and her mouth falls open slightly in shock.

“no way,” she breathes, pulling them out carefully. 

“these are the ones i showed you! how did you even find these? they’ve been sold out for weeks.”

you shrug again, trying to downplay the effort it took. 

“i have my ways.”

she laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“your ways are ridiculous. y/n, these must’ve cost a fortune.”

“and that’s okay,” you say simply, and the sincerity in your voice makes her pause, her expression softening.

“thank you,” she says quietly, leaning over to kiss you again, this time slower, deeper. 

“i try,” you say with a grin, feeling your chest swell at her reaction. 

“but wait, there’s more.”

she groans dramatically, though the smile on her face betrays her. 

“more? y/n, you’re going to spoil me rotten.”

“that’s kind of the point,” you tease, pulling out a small velvet pouch from your bag. 

“this is for the second goal of yours tonight!” 

sydney’s eyes widen again as she opens the pouch to reveal a delicate gold bracelet, the kind that’s understated yet elegant—just like her. she stares at it for a moment before looking up at you, her voice soft. 

“what the hell? this is just–”

“i know,” you say, taking her hand to help fasten the bracelet around her wrist. it catches the light perfectly, and the way she smiles at it makes every effort feel worth it.

as you finally pull out of the lot to grab dinner, sydney reaches over to intertwine her fingers with yours. 

“you don’t have to keep buying me things, you know,” she says after a moment, her voice sincere. 

“i just like being with you. that’s enough for me.”

“i know,” you reply, squeezing her hand. 

“but this is how i show love. and i love you, syd. more than anything.”

she glances at you, her eyes shining. 

“i love you too. even if you are rich and ridiculous.”

masterlist

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Fight or fight." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

The Dixon brothers know there are only two options when faced with a problem: fight or fight, but maybe that lesson isn't such a bad one for Marley when she tries to defend her friend.

A/N: I'm not satisfied with this story but it's 4am in Peru and I didn't want to go to sleep without writing something. I hope you like it♥ (I'm sorry if anything Merle said was offensive, I really tried to think like him but I apologize anyway)

The smell of coffee and maple syrup fills the Dixon home.

There’s a faint scent of cigarettes too, permeating Daryl’s clothes as you pass him in the kitchen, (Something Daryl only did when he was very anxious) him grunting a good morning in response as his hands (experts at holding guns, making arrows, and killing walkers and people) clumsily attempt to make the best lion head pancake: scraps of strawberries for the fur and blueberries for the smiley face. When his mom was around and not drowning in alcohol and substances, she used to make Daryl and Merle these breakfasts, (a caress in the middle of the blows, or a show of peace to cushion the fact that there would be more pain) distant but never blurry stories from their childhood, good stories they could count on their fingers—but there’s something about Daryl’s frown, the way his concentration is about to pass the limit of fixation.

“Why are you so grumpy, huh?” You chuckle, playfully slapping his butt.

“I ain't grumpy.”

“Oh, no? Tell that to your brow. Are you like this because Marley’s leaving again?”

The thought makes Daryl’s heart clench.

“She ain't leavin' me. Ma baby’s goin' to preschool.”

You giggle, but you realize you’ve hit the nail on the head about his irritability because you never said leaving him, even though Daryl saw those 3 hours of classes, with a neighbor in the community who used to be a teacher, as she leaving her home, even though Marley was 5 years old and still had trouble tying her sneakers, which prevented her from running very far. But with breakfast ready, you and Daryl walk to the dining room table where Marley is sitting next to Uncle Merle, who, with his vast experience in street fighting and multiple arrests, shares with his niece some street smarts as he calls it.

“And listen, honey, if any of those uptight pricks try to mess with ya, ya clench yer fist and lean back to get some momentum 'fore ya hit 'em. Always go for the nose, ya hear me, lil' bunny?”

Marley smiles, oblivious to all kind of conflicts, the arguments, and the fights outside the walls because she grew up in a close-knit, loving, non-dysfunctional family—quite the opposite to the men’s previous lives in their house.

“Don’t tell her that, you ass—” You press your lips together, just to avoid the torrent of unfiltered words Merle easily earned. “It’s preschool, not a battlefield.”

Daryl shrugs, elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of him.

“I had ma first fight at 6.”

“Me at 4.” Merle replies, not wasting a second to pick up the thread of the conversation, full of pride. “Marley is a Dixon, sweetheart, so s'only a matter of time 'fore she uses those knuckles.”

With a mental slap, you ask Marley to finish her breakfast, but as the minutes tick by, your daughter’s dormant curiosity awakens with every second, asking you if you ever did that, too.

“I’ve never fought anyone.” You try to defend yourself, to create a safe space for her, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes when they scoff, almost in sync like besties.

“Didn’t yer grandfather teach ya how to punch?” Daryl chuckles, one corner of his lip lifting into a smirk.

“And don’ even get me started on that girl who tried to hit on ma baby brother.” Merle lets out a laugh at the memory, tense seconds after that girl said she could handle you when Daryl told her he was married. “Poor soul. Those sugartits of hers must be rottin’ away now.”

He even makes the sign of the cross over his face, almost convincing you that Merle believes in God, even though Merle only believes in Merle. But the table falls into an almost tactile silence when the baby of the house’s gaze saddens, blue eyes turning cold like her world.

“What do we do when someone is bullying someone, mama? Daddy?”

The promise of physical or mental pain in Marley makes Daryl hold his breath, but when silent gazes meet wondering what to do, he manages to let out the air before speaking.

“Is someone bullyin' ya, angel?”

“S'that damn Chinese kid, isn’t it?” Merle leans in toward her, like he’s trying to get information out of her like the bad cop. "Tell me the truth, honey, Uncle Merle will take care of everythin'."

“Uncle Merle, Hersh is Korean!” Marley frowns in frustration, but she shakes her head to ease all your concerns. “No. Miss Elena teaches us about bullying and that it’s bad for self-esteem.”

An hour later, when you open the door to your house, the sun is shining and fluffy clouds adorn the endless horizon, painting everything in beautiful shades of blue like Marley’s eyes, as bright as the idea that awakens her heart, the promise of living a different life outside of home, learning from books like her mom, and enjoying games with other children her age like her dad and uncle when they were kids. Hershel is 6 and walking down the street, accompanied by Matty, a 5-year-old boy with caramel-colored hair like candy, sweet like his shy personality when he sat reading on his porch with his round-framed glasses, but he's a little gentleman, always saying hello and have a nice day.

“Hey, Auntie (Y/N)!” The eyes of Maggie and Glenn’s son narrow adorably as he smiles, happily taking in your greeting and the way Daryl waves back and nudges Merle to make him swallow his racist comments. “Are you ready, Marley?”

Marley takes a few steps toward the porch stairs, but she stops, her mind screaming at her to do what she always does before saying goodbye.

“Bye, Mommy, bye, Daddy, bye, Uncle.” She waves, turning on her heels then to head down the stairs.

Daryl watches her go with a heavy heart, her brown hair like his own blowing in the spring wind and her excited walk, almost jumping with every step, her brown capybara backpack following her movements. Colors have no gender, and neither did the clothes you two dressed Marley in, always neutral because she never liked dresses or tiaras for her unruly hair like her father's.

But the moment Matty and Hershel take his daughter’s hand, Daryl and Merle’s scowls become more prominent with the surprise and the overflowing anger that is born within them in a single second.

“What the fuck?” The brothers say, in unison.

“I knew that damn Chinese boy wanted somethin' with ma bunny.” Merle’s words sour his mouth, but he makes the monumental effort not to spit out.

“Hershel is Korean, you fuc— racist.” You grimace in disgust, free to blurt out those words on an empty street.

“Whatever.” He answers, without a drop of regret, his voice deepening with the confidence in his words. “We have to do somethin' 'fore one of those bandits steals our baby, lil' brother, that Chinese boy or the nerd one.”

You exhale, because your body can’t take any more of the stupidity you hear from him.

“Matty is sweet and he’s not a nerd just because he wears glasses. I wore reading glasses too.”

“Yeah, but ya looked cute, he looks stupid.” Merle scoffs, looking back at Daryl. “What are ya sayin', baby brother? Are we makin' it look like an accident or what?”

You want to roll your eyes at all the nonsense you hear, but alarm bells go off with a panicked expression from you, eyes slightly widened in response to Daryl's silence, who, you can see, is seriously considering the idea.

“You two are damaged, really.” You squint, but annoyance makes you shake your head in disbelief. “Although their names do in fact rhyme, Marley, Matty…”

Your laughter dies when Daryl narrows his eyes at you, because the bile by that confusing feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his mouth sour as well.

“Stop it, woman, I’m warnin' ya.”

You chuckle, tilting your head slightly to look at him sarcastically.

“Or what?”

“Or there is no sex for ya tonight.”

He says it so seriously, normal words that cause a laugh in Merle, so open because time had given Daryl the confidence to joke about your intimacy in front of his brother.

“You know what? It would be better if you slept in Marley's bed or with your dear brother tonight.” With your head, you point to the accused present, although Merle frowns in displeasure. “Leave those children alone, you assholes. And now go do something useful with your lives instead of killing Marley’s friends with your eyes. I have to go back to work so please wait for her for lunch. And I beg you, don’t do anything stupid.”

With a tired sigh, because life had rewarded you with 3 children and not just one, (a titanic task of raising them because the older ones were already programmed with wrong ideas) you go to work at the infirmary. But in the company of their primitive thoughts (although not wrong ones unfortunately), their eyes meet and they come to a revelation.

“We are doin it. Hell yeah.” Merle chuckles. “But if yer dear wife finds out, she’s gonna kick yer ugly ass and mine as well.”

Daryl wants to say no, but that sixth sense of fatherhood that awakened in him when Marley was born is sending too many signals to his body to ignore.

“Whatever, I’m sleepin' in ma kid's bed anyway whether this goes wrong or not.”

“That’s the attitude, brother!" Merle smiles. "Cause I ain't lettin' ya sleep with me, over ma dead body.”

An hour and a half later, the Dixon brothers are standing to one side of Elena’s house, in the shadows of the wall where the sunlight can't reach, while a small group of children are playing in the makeshift playground in the backyard. Marley runs around the place like a free soul, laughing in a world rising from the ashes. She loved to walk barefoot in the dirt outside Alexandria’s walls, exploring and discovering with her body what Mother Nature still had to offer.

But the picture darkens when a boy Marley’s size that Daryl recognizes well, (a ghost of the typical bully Merle used to be), pushes Matty to the ground to take away the toys he was sharing with his daughter.

Beside him, Merle laughs watching the scene.

“The lil’ prick can’t even protect himself.”

Daryl's choice is to intervene now or see the altercation unfold, but his fatherly instincts kick in hard when Marley steps in front of the boy to protect Matty, earning a shove to her fragile body that the green grass receives. As if the world were painted red, as if his little girl's life were in mortal danger, Daryl runs to defend Marley, but he stops short (Merle's body crashing into his) when Marley stands up cleaning her small hands on her pants, only to push the boy as well with a force that is more than physical, the adrenaline that shoots through and makes her stronger than her short 5 years.

“Eat dirt, asshole!” Above his body, Marley pushes his face with her hands towards the ground.

It’s crazy to Daryl, crazier than thinking the dead came back to life when he grabs his daughter by the waist to remove her from the boy, away from the confusion and blurry vision, though her eyes remain fixed on her target—I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Daryl thinks proudly.

But on the way back home, it’s still absurd to Daryl that he heard his little girl say a bad word after having protected her innocence from anything offensive.

“Marley…” Daryl looks down to meet his daughter’s curious eyes, blue ones that are as deep as her feelings at her young age. “Who taught ya to say asshole, sweetheart?”

Now that the word was free in the wind, he didn’t see why he should not say it, or avoiding. But holding Uncle Merle’s hand, Marley’s innocence leads her to look at the eldest Dixon brother, only to then look at her daddy with a shrug, saying silently: I don't know.

“Ha! That's ma lil’ bunny.” Merle smiles, proud.

But when the men see you sitting on the couch on the porch of the house, Daryl looks down again.

“Good news, angel, daddy's sleepin' in yer room tonight.”

Oblivious to reality, Marley smiles.

@fluffy-dixon

[littlexdeaths]

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: slight suggestiveness on eddie’s part, but also lots of tooth rotting fluff <3

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: this takes place somewhere after the car troubles saga, but before the fake dating saga. based on this lovely request, i hope you like it my love! i appreciate your patience xx

“dude, you sound like fucking shit.”

you hear sid’s voice ring out loudly from the dining room.

you sit up, your inherent nosiness now quickly outweighing any desire to pay attention to the movie flashing across the television. so you carefully get up from the sofa and you peek your head around the corner into the dining room.

sid has his back to you, watching out the window while he continues to talk on the phone. wednesday nights were always slotted for band practice, so you knew it could be one of four people that he was talking to. you just hoped it wasn’t a certain curly haired lead guitarist on the other end.

wednesdays had quickly become your days together as well, once sid fell asleep that is.

your brother snorts but just shakes his head in response to whatever the person on the other line just said.

“nah, don’t worry about it, ed. i’ll see what the other guys wanna do, no need to infect the rest of us with your crap.” he laughs and your heart sinks a little.

so eddie wasn’t coming tonight.

while you feel a little disappointed, an idea suddenly comes to you. and your mind is already made up before sid can even finish hanging up the phone. you grab your keys and purse and hurry past him to the front door.

“hey! where the hell are you going in such a rush?” your brother calls while you slip on your sneakers.

“robin’s having really bad cramps, gotta get her some stuff.”

you’re a little shocked with how easily the lies and excuses come to you now, but you know it’s better than dealing with the reality of sid knowing.

“okay— too much info!” he says with a whistle before he picks the phone back up to call jeff.

you make it to the bradley’s big buy without any issues, besides a disapproving look from hopper as you flew past him on main street. you’re just grateful he was feeling nice today and didn’t pull you over.

as you push the squeaky cart through the aisles you begin to pile saltines, pedialyte and chicken noodle soup into the basket. paying extra mind to grab a couple packages of reese’s pieces and twizzlers on your way past the register.

two of his favorites.

during your short drive to forest hills trailer park, you can’t help the nerves from rumbling in your belly. would he be upset that you showed up unannounced? you didn’t think that was likely, but things were still so new between you. and you really don’t want to mess anything up.

but the look of delighted surprise that crosses his features when he opens the door has any lingering worries dissolving almost instantly. while he’s dressed in a pair of checkered pajama pants and a ratty old band tee— he still manages to take your breath away.

“surprise!” you mumble sheepishly.

“you know,” eddie grins, the tip of his finger tapping against his chin, “i don’t think i ordered a nurse?”

his small chuckle quickly morphs into a hacking cough, the male resting his body further against the doorframe. but the way he’s leaning against it is very reminiscent of that night your car broke down, the night that changed everything. only this time the sweat on his brow is from a fever and not the raging humidity.

“well lucky for you, i do house calls,” you tease, lightly brushing past him to enter the trailer.

eddie had set up camp in the living room, if the amount of tissues strewn about the floor were anything to go by.

“uh… sorry ‘bout the mess,” his already pink cheeks flush a shade darker while he quickly tries to tidy up. “—wasn’t expecting company.”

you can tell by his wobbly stance that he shouldn’t be up and moving around at all right now, so when he bends down again to grab more discarded tissues— you stop him.

“hey, don’t worry about that now, okay?” you reassure him, slipping your hand around his waist to guide him back towards his bedroom.

eddie all but deflates into your side, his mouth lifting into another grin when you reach the edge of his unmade bed.

“i see what’s going on here…” he hums, “trying to get me in bed before we’ve even been on a proper date.”

one of his palms slaps over his chest in mock horror as he flops down onto his mattress in the most dramatic, yet completely eddie-like manner imaginable.

“what kind of guy do you think i am, sweetheart?”

you roll your eyes fondly when he sits back up, eyebrows quirking up suggestively beneath his bangs.

“oh shame on me, we must keep that precious virtue of yours intact.” you giggle, letting him wrap his arm around your waist while he tucks you into the space between his thighs.

you can feel the overwhelming warmth radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt, and the beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his neck when you wrap your arms around him.

“please tell me you’ve been taking tylenol or something for this fever, eds.”

concern laces your tone, but you already know the answer by the way he peeks up at you under his lashes in feigned innocence.

“—uh… no.”

you let out a sigh before untangling yourself from him and he almost manages to follow you out of his room. but you are quick to turn on your heel and press a firm hand to his chest.

“nuh uh, mister. you need to lay down,” you scold, despite the pout adorning his features. “and that’s an order.”

eddie utters a soft, so bossy under his breath before he retreats back to his bed. you’re quick to rummage through the medicine cabinet in his bathroom until you find what you’re looking for. coming back to his room with a full glass of water and two tylenol in tow.

he tosses the pills back without any further argument, much to your relief. but the male immediately reaches for you again and you unwillingly slip through his fingers.

“nooo— where are you going now?” he all but whines.

you merely respond with a giggle as you slip out of his room, padding down the hall towards your bag of goodies you left near the front door. you snatch out the candy and pedialyte, and graciously clean up the rest of his tissues before making your way back towards his room.

eddie perks up at the sight of you, immediately pulling back the bedsheets and welcoming you in with open arms. you set your goodies down on his nightstand before sliding in next to him, the male completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“thank you.” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and truly, he means it.

eddie has spent most of his life fending for himself, so he’s not used to someone wanting to dote on him like this. but the fact that you were so willing to drop everything to come here and check on him — spoke volumes.

you carefully tilt your head up to glance at him, his soft chestnut hues meeting yours as he tucks comfortably into his side.

“anytime, eds.”

and you mean it too.

you spend the better part of the evening nursing him back to health, as much he’ll let you anyway. while eddie is beyond grateful that you’re willing to care for him like this, he’s just happy to be in your presence.

and he can’t deny he’s become quite attached to you in the short time you’d started seeing each other. so much so that when you finally get up to make him some dinner he all but clings to your side, despite your protests for him to go rest.

eddie is nothing if not stubborn, so he follows you into the small kitchen. keeping his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder while you heat up a can of campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

but as much as he's enjoying the coddling in his current state, he draws the line at your attempts to spoon-feed him. it only leads to him playfully nipping at your fingers until he finally manages to sneak the utensil from your grasp.

with his belly fully and his fever beginning to break the two of you make your way back to his bedroom. slipping comfortably beneath the covers while you flip through the tv stations until you’ve settled on some old the price is right reruns.

eddie falls asleep not even five minutes after his head hits the pillow, soft snores tumbling from his plump lips. the utter picture of content. so you can’t help when your gaze quickly shifts from bob barker and the spinning wheel to his sleeping features.

you admire the way his long lashes fan across his freckled cheeks and the little scar on the slope of his nose that you’ve never noticed before. the way his lips are slightly chapped, but still kissable all the same. and when you lean up to press a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, he doesn’t even stir.

but as you snuggle yourself into his chest you miss the way his lips quirk up in a half smile, the male ultimately catching you in the act. eddie decides to say nothing as your breathing begins to slow and you drift off to sound of his steady heartbeat in your ears.

and later, when wayne returns home from work that evening to find you both entangled and sleeping soundly in his nephew’s bed, he just quietly shuts the door behind him with a knowing grin on his face.

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @devil-in-hiding @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can @guiltyasquinn

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[missmarveledsblog]

hey i see you write for the walking dead and was wondering if you could do negan x reader like the whole " only soft for her thing" ?

ask and you shall receive nonny !!!

Different ( Negan smith x Reader)

Summary : while taking supplies negan decide he wants something a little different ... different in the form of Y/N a smart mouth and stubborn woman

Warning: its a negan fic do i need to give a warning as it should be warning enough 18+ slight soft negan

Sun bright in the sky , clouds clear barely would think the world fell as he looked around  watching his trucks filling up  with many things he didn’t but it was the pure fact of wanting . Sure negan knew he was going to get us of it somehow give some of the shit to the wives keep the gals happy , stop their bitching and moaning  or tears for some reason not understanding it was the best . but apart of him tired  of the harem he made  , it was more of a power play getting people to bend to his will anyway he wanted like now taking shit he didn’t need but fuck was it fun  .  the smug shit eating grin and mood high as the sky only for the sound of a body hitting the ground turning to see one of his men hitting the ground and young woman standing over him ready to kick the man again ignoring the fearless kill happy leader approaching or his men’s gun aimed in her direction . 

“Touch me again and i’ll cut your balls and feed em to you” she spat  feeling something spikey skimming her shoulder as she turned grabbing the bat in her hand ignoring the sting of the prongs cutting into her flesh . 

“ and what gives you the right to harm one of my men?”  watching interest not moving the bat from her hold , taking her in  from the little worn down sneakers to the equally worn out dress on her perfect little body .  “ we take what ever we want darling those the rules” 

“ i don’t care what your arrangement is , he can take anything but the moment he puts his hand on me i will knock him on his ass” she shrugged taking her hand off the bat . 

“Did you grab her ass?” he looked down at his man , a sniveling little prick . 

“  he did and now he’s on the ground so either do your bat happy swing or shoot me because honestly over it , if not i will be on my way “ she went to walk off only for the guns click  not that it stopped her . 

“ i’ll take someone for her treatment although shoot this fuck “ he called as a bullet hit the man before he could even plead for his life then his eyes stopped on maggie , one who was still mourning her love and pregnant with his child .  “ i’ll take her “ he smirked as his men went to grab her only for a click of a gun at his head . 

“ y/n stop “ rick growled as negan turned a glint in his eyes.

“ take me  or i’ll drop you where you stand “ she finally said as Carl stood forward telling her to stop . 

“ what would stop me from smashing those beautiful brains all over the ground  “ . 

“ the bullet that will go in yours ,  so it either me or  nothing “ she easily shrugged as they all stood quiet knowing it was too late , she was stubborn but shit she would die happily to protect her friends. 

“ you got a deal darling “ he chuckled . 

“ i’m keeping my weapons “ was all she said, turning to go to the van  shooting a teary eyed maggie a wink and kissing a carl on top of his head. 

“ you don need ta do this “ daryl glared at the men before his eyes soften on her. 

“ don’t worry Dixon, I'll have him returning  me after a week “ she winked  and a chuckle fell from her lips and a small smirk on his own face . they all watched pained expression as she got in the truck . 

“ well i hate to keep a lady wait … who’s got that truck “ he called as simon stood forward already handing him the keys .  “ great seeing you all we should do this more often “ he chuckled heading to the truck  her face turning to her group as she yell out of the window “ don’t worry “ .  With that they watched the truck driving off and negan smiling like he won  the jackpot . 

The truck ride back was quiet , her eyes locked firmly out the window as confident and cocky her demeanor was she was scared it not like she didn’t  know who he was . she was there that night like her friend repulsed and filled with grief as they watched their beloved friend die horrendously .  she knew what kind of man that she was sat next to and if it meant her friends were safe she didn’t care what was to come of her even if meant she was scared .  she heard the story  of the savors and they way they treated their people or the group of women that were forced to be the cruel sadistic leader’s wives .  She knew her fate the moment she step foot in that truck and she would do it all again no matter what was to happen . 

“ you got balls bigger ones than grimes princess i’ll give you that, a mouth on you too “ he chuckled as she rolled her eyes . “ silent treatment now  awh that’s a shame sweetheart i though we were bonding here ” he mocked sadness  almost watching and waiting for her reaction . 

“ balls and a mouth i think i was the wrong one to take … i’m not judging each to their own “ she gave him tight lipped smile .

 “ holes a hole darling “ he winked. 

“ come near any of my holes and i’ll cut it off “ 

“  i doubt you would honey let be real little boys back there wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you but i do “ he almost purred . 

“ so this is how leia felt when she was taken by jabba “ she huffed out only to hear a booming laugh from her captor . 

“ how the fuck do you know star wars “ he chuckled . 

“ because  world fell to shit when i was  sixteen not six “ she rolled her eyes. 

“ ah the nerd turn hot chick cliche “ 

“ let me guess your the middle aged man living out some sort of compensation era, “ she shot back, noticing how quiet he went. “ what was it working a nine to five while everyone stepped on you so now you think fuck it won’t let that happen again “  only to hear the click of a gun .

“ shut your mouth or i’ll drive back and line them up one by one and make you watch “ he spat . 

“ get your gun out of my face or i’ll blow the thing that makes you a man off”  the click of her own gun aimed at the crown jewels .

“ your a twisted little fuck huh ?” a shit eating grin on his lips as he pulled his gun back . something about this one he liked a little too much . 

“ pot meet kettle “ she yawned ,  pulling her gun to her side, laying her head against the window  and dozing off. 

Pulling into his commune , he could see them all looking at her , curious eyes trying to catch a peak at the new comer as he and his men pulled up beside her . simon at the ready to come pull her from the truck only for him to stay standing open mouthed as their fearless leader went to the door and gently lifted her up and carried her to his personal quarters , he wasn’t the only one who looked shocked  , each man looking at each other . 

“ get me some clothes that will fit her bring them to my room “ he muttered to the women  who look plain depressed and terrified all in one . setting off he carried her in  and up the stair walking down the hall and placing her in own personal room   and placing her softly on the bed . looking down at her sleeping figure something about this one was different , something about this one was all his .   He couldn’t explain it or may he could and was ignoring it or embracing it to quickly  shaking his head and turning to his door knowing he had shit to do .

“ i’ll be back later “ he said, almost gently making her stir but remain asleep  , a smile on his lips as he headed out the door taking one more look at her sleeping on his bed , where she was meant to be and where she was staying from now on . 

  The room was dark when she sat up groaning , confused as fuck . it wasn’t because it was a strange place but the fact it wasn’t a cell or something similar , it was fact the bed was warm and comfy  that confused her . she expected to walk up on a cold floor or tattered mattress. Standing she looked around the space taking it all in seeing her knife and gun on bedside table was also surprising to see her wish respected the whole thing was nothing as she expected .  the click in the door ok that was something at least as three  women walked in one holding a bundle of clothes and the other two had  a tray  of food . 

“ put them down and get out “ the booming voice called out as they flinched  and left without so much as a look in her direction. Negan stood at the door as while she continue to look around the room pretending he wasn’t there, like his presence didn’t nor would it bother her. 

 “ sit” 

“ excuse me “ she turned arching her brow. “ since when am i fucking dog” she crossed her arms. 

“ since your acting like a bitch “ he chuckled .  “ sit down and lets eat “ he  nodded his head to the trays . 

“ is it posioned ?” she asked wondering what the fuck was going on . 

“  nope look “ he grabbed forkful off each plate . 

“ well suck to be you i like poison” she muttered heading sitting in the chair across from him  hating how good it looked  and suppressing the moan of how it tasted as she let it sit on her tongue . 

“ you can change after dinner” 

“ oh can i, too kind and what if i don’t like the clothes “ she mused . 

“ feel free to go in your birthday suit actually i fully encourage that one “ he winked . 

“ pig “ 

“ bitch “ 

“ why all of this? where is this room? “ she asked curiously killed the cat the moment her eyes opened . 

“ my room princess  like it “ he wiggled his brows . 

“ i’m not being part of this harem you got that ? “ she scoffed . 

“ the harem as you call its been disbanded or downgraded plus even at that they never came here” he said easily . 

“ what are they concubines now cause i’m not being part of that either “ .

“ more maids now “ he shrugged. 

“ what do i expect to sleep in same bed as you ?” 

“ sleep on fucking floor for all i care” 

“ you left me with weapons what’s from stopping me from killing you in your fucking sleep “ 

“ we both know you wont princess , look you haven’t  threatened my cock and balls in ten minutes progress already “ he chuckled  , hating herself for the little laugh that came out . 

“ i want my things” she finally said . “ if you're keeping me here i have things i want that mean alot to me”

“ already got them “ . 

“ you went back and got my things” 

“  grimes told me you’d want them when i went back to warn them not to come for you or i kill them all slowly “ . 

“ why me ?” she finally asked the burning question . 

“ because baby you're different”

let me know if anyone wants more parts !!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shot

Hi! ♥ I hope you are all ok!

I have trouble finishing all the stories I started, but I’m working on it!

This one took me a little longer to write, I hope you like it. It is a little different from what I have written so far, but it is following a request from an anonymous:)

Summary: You’re a journalist and you were sent to a complicated place in the world. Will the attack you suffered prevent you from finding your girlfriend’s arms permanently?

TW: Angst, mention of war and bomb, accident, hospitalization.

PART 2 | PART 3

____________________________________________________________

Alexia is the only woman you fell in love with, and everyday you find yourself falling even harder for her. She was perfect for you. Caring, loving, loyal, attentive and sweat. Your bond is even more special than you ever dreamed before you became a couple.

However, things could have started more easily. You are a journalist/reporter and you know perfectly well that celebrities are not fond of this kind of profession, for good reason. When you found yourself following her for days for the report "Alexia: Labor Omnia Vincit", she was very professional at first. Like, really very very professional. But you lived with her for weeks, met her relatives and finally you found yourself covering her with heart eyes.

What you never imagined was that things could be reciprocal.

Shortly after announcing your relationship, at your friends and family only, you quickly settled together. Your cat met officially Nala at that time and you were spending happy days all four in Alexia’s apartment. I mean, your apartment now.

There are sometimes a few days during which you can't see each other, when Alexia leave for football or when you go in another country for a report. You go watch Alexia at every opportunity you have, enjoying to see her evolve in her element. And you know that Alexia reads or looks the articles or reports you participate in.

Alexia has already had a lot of trouble accepting that you go to eastern Europe last month for a report, so it's with a ball in the belly that you come home tonight. You have to tell her you’re leaving for another complicated place in the world and you know it’s going to be hard for her to accept.

You nervously bite the inside of your lip when you open the door of your apartment, immediately greeted by Nala who comes to rub in your legs, almost making you fall. You laugh gently and lift her off the floor to put a kiss on her skull before resting her gently. Your cat, for its part, opens an eye from its cat tree, long before turning and falling asleep again.

"Thanks for the welcome, Diabolo" you grumble.

You roll your eyes and hang your coat in the cupboard of the entrance before going in search of Alexia. Her sneakers at the entrance and a pleasant smell of food floats in the air, informing you that she’s home. Nala is ahead of you, running towards the kitchen, where you find your girlfriend.

The smile she gives you when you arrive takes your breath away and you accelerate the step to have her faster against you. Your face in her neck, you breathe her smell before putting a kiss, then several along his jaw to finish on her lips.

"Holà mi Amor"

She says to you smiling, passing both hands in your hair.

"Holà."

You let her kiss you again before taking a look at the stove to see what is in the pots.

"Did you finish training early?" You ask when you realize she’s had time to prepare all this and shower before you come home.

"No" she laughs softly "My mom came by to bring us what she cooked for her dinner with her friends tonight. Apparently she planned too big"

"Like she didn’t mean to"

You laugh too and Alexia throws you a smile and a amused look. You both know that she cooked huge quantities on purpose to be able to bring you some, Alba surely received her part too and you wouldn't be surprised to learn that your sister also received Eli’s visit with a tupperware filled with paella.

"Do I have time to shower?"

You want to get comfortable quickly, knowing the discussion you have to bring later. You think you’ll wait until the end of the meal though, not wishing to spoil your girlfriend’s appetite.

"If I had known, I would have waited for you" Alexia whispers, sliding her hands dangerously close to your butt.

"Alexia Putellas Segura, you are worse than a male teenager" you smile against her lips before kissing her tenderly. "I make it quickly."

After a quick shower, you go straight into Alexia’s clothes section of the wardrobe, choosing an old FC Barcelona jogging you love and one of her t-shirts with a Nike logo.

"It seems that you are wrong again on the side of the cupboard mi Amor" Alexia tells you with a knowing smile when you return to her.

"Oops."

********

After the meal, you sat on the sofa in the living room to watch the series that you started to follow recently. You still haven’t managed to talk about it, Alexia seems so relaxed and happy tonight that it breaks your heart to have to make this announcement.

However, your worry must be easily noticeable, since you feel Alexia’s hand on your fingers as you mechanically wiggle between them.

"Okay, what is it?" she asks you, slightly getting up to see you better.

"What?"

"You haven’t paid a single second of attention to the episode since we started it, you play nervously with your fingers and you keep biting your lip. What the hell is going on?"

You sigh softly and sit cross-legged on the couch, not finding the courage to look into her eyes. Beside you, you feel Alexia put herself in the same position. You feel her gaze on you as you speak again.

"I have to leave in three days for a new report" you finally confess.

"Where?"

"In the Middle East"

"No."

Alexia’s firm voice makes you look up and you can’t tell if her "No" is a ban she puts on you or if it's a form of denial to this information. Her eyebrows frown, her eyes are hard and you have to take it on yourself not to lower your eyes again.

"There’s no way you’re going. It’s too dangerous."

"This is my job, Ale" you point out lightly.

"I don’t care. You stay here, there is no fucking way that I let my girlfriend going right to death, your boss is completely crazy and irresponsible."

You watch her get up and go around in circles in the living room, talking while gesticulating her arms in all directions, scaring Nala in the same time.

"I’m not going alone, there will be my team with me."

"I. Don’t. Care."

********

Three days later, you find yourself at the airport with your team. By working together, they became your friends and Alexia knows them very well. And they know Alexia very well too. That’s probably why Lola asks you with surprise about the absence of your girlfriend to say goodbye.

"She didn’t want me to go"

You hardly swallow your saliva and thank Lola mentally for not insisting. Her compassionate smile is enough to bring some tears to your eyes, which you fortunately manage to stop.

Alexia is very mad at you. She tried emotional blackmail, anger, tears and pretty much everything in her possession to keep you close to her. The worst part is you would have preferred to stay with her, but you couldn’t refuse that warrant. You had already refused a report to manage Alexia’s anxiety a few days before and your boss warned you that it was the last refusal on your part that he accepted.

You don’t know if Lola passed on the information to the rest of the team, but they all show themselves to be particularly caring with you. Ben offers to check in your luggage and you gladly accept. You take a quick look at your phone and see that you have messages from your parents, your sister, Eli and Alba, but none from Alexia.

She left for her training saying goodbye of course, it was still out of the question to leave you angry. You can’t blame her, you know perfectly well that if things were reversed, you would react the same way. She too had tears in her eyes closing the door behind her and that didn’t help you leave your apartment earlier

"Well, look who’s here" Marta laughs.

Like the rest of your team, you turn to the point she’s staring off behind you. And you feel an electric current running through you when you recognize Alexia’s silhouette. She hasn’t seen you yet and you can see her look through the crowd with a desperate air, as if she were afraid of having arrived too late. Fortunately not, with the amount of material you have, boarding always takes forever.

Without hesitation, you split the crowd and she finally sees you. A few seconds later, you are in her arms and it's only now that you see Mapi over her shoulder. The tattooed one winks at you before getting away to give you some privacy.

"I thought I was too late"

Alexia’s voice came to you in a muffled way, her face being buried in your hair while she hugs you against her with all the strength of her arms. You give her back her embrace, certainly with much less force, but this embrace brings you the comfort you needed.

"Thanks for coming" you mumble back.

One hand in her hair and the other in the hollow of her back, you breathe deeply for the first time in three days. You stay like this for a few moments, before Alexia lets go of you with one hand to search in the pocket of her coat.

"I have something for you."

You watch her do and after a few seconds she show you a necklace with a pendant hanging. You would swear that something is hidden in it, but before you can question her on the subject, Alexia resumes speaking.

"You’ll open it on the plane, okay?"

You nod and let her hang the necklace around your neck. Her fingers make you shudder and you hurry to get back against her when she’s done. You don’t care if you’re being watched or even if someone recognized you. In any case, it’s been several weeks since edits of you two started appearing on the Internet. Alexia doesn’t seem to care much either since she’s the one who initiates your kiss.

"Promise me you’ll come back"

"I promise"

Her forehead leaning against yours and her look in yours makes you forget the rest of the world around you. The place where you fly is dangerous, you are perfectly aware of it. And Alexia too. She doesn’t make you make those promises every time, but only when she knows there’s a risk.

"I hate your job."

Her remark makes you smile softly and you replace a lock of her hair behind her ear before resuming speech.

"I think this is the last time I leave"

"What do you mean?"

The surprise forces Alexia to take off her face from yours to be able to better observe you. Her hazel look plunges into yours when you shrug your shoulders.

"It gets too complicated for both of us and I don’t have the same pleasure doing what I do anymore. I’ll talk to my boss when I get back, but I’m thinking of resigning"

Alexia’s face becomes perfectly smooth under the shock of the information and she blinks several times before responding.

"I- I never asked you to quit" she stutters, making you smile.

"I know"

You smile in front of her amazed air and kiss her tenderly on the cheek. You have been working for the same people for many years and have made a name for yourself in the profession. And even if a job change is turned down, you know you’ll find something else elsewhere.

You hear Lola calling you gently behind you, meaning it’s time for you to go. Alexia looks at you and your smiles are more like grimaces. It’s time to say goodbye.

"Take care of yourself and don’t let Diabolo eat too much."

"I will"

A new kiss is exchanged before you have to release her. You take a quick look in the direction of your team, most go up to the departures floor thanks to the escalator, only Lola is waiting patiently for you downstairs.

"Be careful, mi Amor. Think of me?"

"Every second of the day Cariño."

A few hours later, you are installed on your plane seat, window side. As if to better stick to your mood, the rain began to fall on Barcelona, drawing shapes on the porthole through which you look. Remembering the pendant that Alexia gave you, you gently take it in your hand to better observe it. You have no trouble finding the security to open it and inside you discover a rolled paper that you unfold. You smile and realize it’s a picture of you and Alexia. Behind it, she wrote a note.

"Forever with you. Te amo tanto. Alexia ♥"

********

Since your arrival, you have been able to exchange several messages and phone calls with Alexia. Things are going better than you both imagined, to your relief. You are not exactly in the middle of the conflict, the work you were asked to do being more focused on the population who decides to enlist in the army to defend their country. You are protected by soldiers who follow you like your shadow and you even feel safe.

It's the mind entirely turned towards the report that you climb in the jeep that brings you and your team where you have to meet several people to interview them. You have to go back to Barcelona in two days and your idea to resign is still on your mind. The more you think about it, the more you know it’s the right thing to do.

You are listening with amusement to Ben talking about his son’s latest mischief when something happens. A click, followed by the panic cries of the men around you. They express themselves in their native language that you don't master, or very briefly. A few seconds later, a heat wave lifts you off the ground and you are thrown out of the vehicle, unconscious, the mine you drove over blowing up everything around.

********

When Eli and Alba appear on the edge of the training field, Alexia knows something bad happened. The joke she was exchanging with Ona gets stuck in her throat and her face visibly pale. Jonathan accompanies them and beckons her to come to them. It's with tingling throughout the body that Alexia stands up and makes her way towards them.

"What happened?" she immediately asks, looking her mother in the eye.

"Y/N's team ran over amine. Half of them are still missing"

It's Alba who speaks, making Alexia look in her direction. Unable to open her mouth, she waits for further information.

"Y/N has been found, but it's not good Ale"

"What do you mean "it's not good?" "

Alexia gets upset, bringing their mother in the conversation for the first time. Obviously she fears the reaction of her eldest, knowing how attached you are to each other.

"Alexia…" she makes a soothing tone by grabbing her daughter’s arm.

"But just tell me! She’s dead, isn’t she?"

Alexia’s tone rises and she must take it upon herself not to push the physical contact initiated by her mother. Eli and Alba exchange a look before the first one resumes speaking.

"No, but she’s in a bad state. She was found unconscious and is on an official ventilator. They don’t yet know how badly she’s hurt. As we speak, she’s still in a coma and they don't know if she will make it."

********

The days that followed were a summary of hell for Alexia, your parents and your relatives in general. Due to the geographical distance, the news has reached them in dribs and drabs only by the interval of your team. Your boss got yelled at by Alexia, your father and Alexia’s mother. If you weren’t about to resign, there’s no doubt he’d demand you do.

After a few days of staying together at your parents', your loved ones have finally started their lives again. Your sister went back to work, but Alexia literally had to be taken out by force to agree to return to the training grounds. To make sure her daughter would go, Eli even asked Irene to come pick her up.

The information about you is vague but they know the main thing, you’re still alive. "She promised to come back to me" Alexia repeated several times, both to convince herself and to reassure others.

Even if she will never admit it, seeing her friends makes Alexia feel better. She strongly suspects them of doing everything to change her mind, but she is sincerely grateful. It changes her from the four walls of your parents' living room or yours, even if your animals also bring her comfort and affection.

Alexia is in the middle of a discussion with Mapi and Aitana when her phone rings from her bag. As always, she feels a mixture of feelings at the idea of dropping out, fearing bad news. But it’s usually your mother who gets calls from your bosses to give them news. It’s been three days now since they learned anything new.

Seeing that the call number is unknown, Alexia hesitates a few seconds before answering but ends up doing so. Normally, people with access to her phone number are allowed to have it. She has never had any problems with that.

"Holà?"

The silence settles on the other side of the phone and the Latin checks that she has picked up before putting the phone back against her ear.

"Is there anyone here?"

A new silence sets in. Just as she was about to hung up, Alexia finally hears a voice at the other end. The voice is barely higher than a whisper, as if the person were particularly exhausted.

"Ale? It’s me…"

The ground slips under the captain’s feet so abruptly that neither Mapi nor Aitana has time to catch her. Sitting on the floor, the one who had managed not to shed a single tear since the announcement of your accident melts into tears, alerting her two friends who are now convinced that something dramatic is happening.

Alexia let a flood of curses that you’ve never heard come out of your girlfriend’s lips when she realizes it’s you on the phone.

"I’m alive" you end up adding, not really knowing what to add.

"You had better" sobs Alexia before finally raising her eyes on Mapi.

Lost in her emotions, she didn’t realize that her reaction alerted almost the entire team. Ona, who had gone to take her shower, kneels beside Mapi, both leaning in the direction of their friend and captain while others stand in an arc around her.

"It’s Y/N. She did it."

********

Your parents had already had to detain Alexia so that she wouldn’t jump on the first plane upon learning of your accident, but this time it was even worse. With the injuries you’ve got, you couldn’t go home right away. The translation was sometimes complicated at first, until the Spanish embassy sent someone to do the translation. From there, you were able to recover your phone and thus be in contact with Alexia and your loved ones more easily. The connection is not always optimal, but having your girlfriend only a call from you does you a lot of good.

It's not in very good condition that you get on the plane to repatriate you to Barcelona, but you specifically asked to return as soon as possible, even if you were then hospitalized in Spain. During the explosion, it was mostly the left side of your body that was injured. In addition to a crumbling shoulder, broken ribs and a damaged knee, you find yourself with a head injury and a broken nose that fortunately had time to deflate. Thanks to that you no longer look like a boxer at the end of his career but it looks like you have two big cockroaches.

You learned yesterday that three of your six team members didn't survive the attack. Ben and Lola have already returned to Spain and it's with a hint of guilt that you leave Marta alone on the spot. But her family is coming in two days and she swore to you that everything was fine for her.

Exhausted by the journey to the airport, you slept all the way back and it is only when the wheels of the plane touch the ground that you open your eyes with a start. The person assigned by the embassy to follow you smiles kindly and you answer vaguely, before looking out the window. When you see the airport building, you feel your heart speed up. Alexia is waiting for you, a few hundred meters from you.

You tried to refuse to be moved around in a wheelchair, in vain. So it is with a sulky pout that you find yourself traveling through the airport, to the place to collect your belongings. The good news is that you had left almost all to your camp and so you were able to recover everything. Even the necklace offered by your girlfriend survived and did not leave your neck a single squad then you left Barcelona.

Your suitcase is much too long for your taste to arrive and you refrain from jumping on your chair of impatience when it is time to pass the security control of customs. Everything is going too slowly and you are convinced that you would go faster by limping with your crutch. But you finally arrive in the main arrival hall and it only takes you two seconds to spot Alexia, your eyes are attracted to her like a magnet. By the time she comes to you, you get up from the chair and two seconds later you’re finally where you want to be forever. In her arms.

The embrace is not very practical, your arm in sling prevents you from holding her as you would like and you clench your teeth not to flinch despite your painful ribs. You still feel that Alexia is doing everything she can to be delicate. She has not yet been able to truly realize all of your injuries.

But in the end you don’t care, because it’s all about her. Alexia feels like she can breathe completely for the first time in about ten days. You feel her coming off of you after a few minutes and you have trouble supporting her gaze. You know that you look terrible, even if you are not the type to wear kilos of makeup every day, there you are really far from being to your advantage.

"Mi Amor" she whispers tenderly, holding your face in her hands before as much delicacy as if it had been porcelain. Her thumbs caress your cheeks and you feel tears in your eyes. "It’s over. You’re home."

You nod and close your eyes, letting her kiss you tenderly before she takes you back against her.

Needless to say, the next day your boss received a letter of resignation from you. Thanks to what happened to you, you received a starting bonus, allowing you to have money set aside before embarking on your new project, writer and WAG. Because from now on, it’s out of the question to part with Alexia for more than half a day.

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

the final.

The soft hum of music played in the background as I sat on the back porch of our cozy home, sipping iced tea and watching the sun dip below the horizon. My mind was racing, my heart full of anticipation. I glanced down at the diamond ring sparkling on my finger and then at the small, wrapped box sitting on the table beside me. Tonight was the night I would tell Matt something that would change our lives forever.

The smell of lasagna—Matt’s favorite—wafted through the open kitchen window, mingling with the crisp evening air. I had spent hours making sure everything was perfect. Candles flickered on the dining table, casting a warm glow over the room. It was intimate and special, exactly the way I wanted this moment to feel.

The sound of Matt’s car pulling into the driveway made my stomach flutter. A minute later, the door opened, and he stepped in, his hair slightly damp from the rain outside and a playful smile on his face. He looked as handsome as ever, carrying that effortless charm that still made my heart skip a beat.

“Something smells amazing,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it by the door.

“It’s your favorite,” I said, trying to sound casual as I turned to greet him. “I figured we could have a nice dinner together tonight.”

He leaned down to kiss me, lingering just a little longer than usual. “You spoil me, you know that?”

I laughed nervously, biting my lip. “Well, you deserve it.”

We sat down at the table, the clinking of silverware and soft music filling the space as we ate. Conversation flowed easily—he told me about his day, and I listened, smiling at how animated he got when he was passionate about something. But all the while, my mind was racing. I could feel the weight of the surprise I was about to share, and my nerves were building by the second.

As Matt reached for his second helping, I cleared my throat. “Actually, before you eat more, I, uh, got you something.”

He froze mid-reach, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at me. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” I said quickly, my voice shaky but steadying. “Just… open it.”

I slid the small, neatly wrapped box across the table to him, watching his expression shift from curiosity to confusion as he untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled between layers of tissue paper, were a tiny pair of black baby Converse sneakers, a onesie, and a folded note. He picked up the note first, his hands trembling slightly as he opened it and read the words I had written:

“You’re going to be a dad.”

For a moment, he just stared at the note, his expression unreadable. Then, he looked up at me, his eyes wide and glassy with disbelief. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded. “I’m serious, Matt. We’re having a baby.”

The next thing I knew, he had pushed his chair back and was around the table, pulling me into his arms. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the overwhelming joy radiating from him.

“We’re having a baby,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I’m going to be a dad.”

I laughed through my tears, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You’re going to be the best dad, Matt.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down my cheeks. “And you’re going to be the best mom,” he said, his voice filled with so much love that it took my breath away.

He kissed me then, deeply and tenderly, as if he were trying to pour every ounce of his love and excitement into that moment. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his eyes locked on mine.

“This is the best surprise of my life,” he whispered. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” I said, my voice shaky but full of emotion.

The rest of the night was a blur of happy tears, excited planning, and Matt repeatedly asking if I needed anything—water, a blanket, a foot rub. He was already in full dad mode, and it made me laugh and cry all over again.

By the time we went to bed, the tiny baby shoes sat on the nightstand beside us, a perfect reminder of the new chapter we were about to begin together. Matt held me close as we lay in the dark, his hand resting protectively over my stomach.

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a peace and joy I had never known before. Our journey had brought us here.

The last five years had been a whirlwind—a mix of life’s most beautiful highs and some challenging lows. It was incredible to think about how far we’d come, how much we’d grown, and how deeply our lives had intertwined with those we loved most.

Chris and Charlie had been the first to take a big step into parenthood, and it was as if the whole world shifted when they welcomed their daughter, Grace, into the family. Grace had her dad’s bright eyes and her mom’s unstoppable energy, and from the moment I held her for the first time, I was completely smitten. Charlie became my go-to for mom advice as I watched her navigate the ups and downs of parenting with equal parts grace and humor. Matt and I joked that Grace was prepping us for when we had kids, but deep down, I loved seeing Matt with her. He’d lift her onto his shoulders, make silly faces, and read her bedtime stories with so much enthusiasm you’d think he was auditioning for a Broadway play.

Nick introduced us to his boyfriend, Jonah, it was like the last puzzle piece of Nick’s life fell perfectly into place. Jonah fit right into our little group, his dry humor balancing out Nick’s dramatic flair. Seeing Nick happy and thriving in his relationship warmed my heart.

As for Matt and me, our love story continued to evolve. It hadn’t all been smooth sailing—far from it. About three years ago, we hit a rough patch that tested everything we thought we knew about our relationship. We were just drained and disconnected. Small arguments turned into bigger fights, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if we could make it through.

Chris and Charlie stepped in, running what I can only describe as an unofficial couples therapy session. They had us over for dinner, let us vent, and then helped us unpack what was really going on. They reminded us why we fell in love in the first place and encouraged us to put in the work to fix what was broken. And we did. It wasn’t easy, but we came out stronger on the other side, with a deeper understanding of each other and a commitment to never let things get that bad again.

One of the most meaningful moments in the past five years was when Matt asked my dad for his blessing to propose. I didn’t find out about it until after the fact, but when my dad told me, I cried like a baby. My dad has always been my rock, and knowing that Matt went to him, nervous and earnest, to ask for his approval meant the world to me. My dad, of course, gave his blessing without hesitation, and the two of them had a moment I wish I could’ve seen.

The proposal itself was straight out of a fairy tale. Matt planned a vacation for us to Italy, a place I’d always dreamed of visiting. We were on the Amalfi Coast, walking along a secluded beach at sunset. The sky was painted in shades of pink and gold, and the gentle waves lapped at the shore as Matt led me to a spot where a picnic blanket was set up with wine, fruit, and candles.

I was in awe of the romantic setup, completely oblivious to what was coming. As we sat there, sipping wine and watching the sun dip below the horizon, Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “these past years with you have been the best of my life. I can’t imagine a future without you in it. You make me a better man, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you. Will you marry me?”

I barely managed to get out the word “yes” before I was crying and laughing and kissing him all at once. The ring he slid onto my finger was perfect—simple and elegant, just like us. That night, under the stars, we celebrated the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.

Looking back, the past five years were filled with so many moments—some difficult, some joyful, but all of them meaningful. They were ours, and they brought us to where we were now: engaged, happy, and ready to take on whatever came next together.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[hyunverse]

lucky number five ☆ hwang hyunjin.

pairing: hyunjin x fem! reader. tags: fluff, drabble. words: 3k words. warnings: reader is referred to with she/her, called as wife. about: the five most memorable memories you share with hyunjin. note: i haven't written in a while, so my writing's definitely a little rusty. i hope you'll like it! please reblog, and feedback is very much appreciated &lt;3 disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Five is Hyunjin's lucky number.

Hyunjin first met you when he was five. He had pointed out that you were wearing the same shirt as he was — and you've been attached to the hips ever since.

His first tooth fell out on the fifth day of Summer. He could recall holding the baby tooth on a tissue in one hand, looking up at his mother with puppy eyes. His mother patted him on the head and told him he had grown up. The tooth fairy gave him a single gold coin chocolate, too. Tucked it under his pillow where he placed his baby tooth. He remembers having a lisp until the tooth grew back — remembers how jealous you were that he had "grown up."

The first feeling of victory Hyunjin had ever experienced was when he won fifth place in a colouring contest. Truth be told, he could've easily won first place — but he wanted you to win over him just to see you smile, so he coloured messily. Though the trophy for first place looked glorious, he thought that the smile plastered on your face as you held a medal beat the shine on the trophy.

It was the fifth of May when you two started dating. Hyunjin remembers everything about the fated day, bit by bit. He could play each scene, each dialogue in his head like an overplayed radio song. He was merely sixteen, studying in an all boys school with little to no knowledge about dating. Boys his age didn't care about dating. They only cared about soccer and video games. While he cared about all of that too, a lot of the space in his heart was overtaken by you. Figuring out how to ask you out was tough, he had spent a lot of time pondering. He even gathered up the courage to seek advice from his friends, yet to no avail. They were barely any help. In the end, he observed television dramas and prayed for the best.

Under a cherry blossom tree, you sat on a bench. Your eyes were fixated on the sky as your legs dangled over the wooden bench. The clouds on the sky were huge, luminous — enveloping the sky the way lovers do.

"Jinnie!" Hyunjin heard you cheer as he approached you. The nonchalant look on his face immediately turned into a bright smile, his footsteps becoming more hurried.

Standing in front of you, Hyunjin was the perfect depiction of nervous. Both his hands dug deep into the pockets of his jeans, front teeth nibbling onto the inside of his cheeks and the little rocks underneath his foot tumbled as he kicks on them.

Hyunjin gulped, "Hi."

You tilted your head with concern, "are you okay, Jinnie?"

The concern laced in your tone reminded him of all the reasons why he liked you so much. You cared like no other — loved as though nothing could hurt you in this world.

"I am," he replied, rubbing on the back of his neck, "I just —"

"You don't have to rush it," you tapped on the seat beside you, "sit with me. You can take your time to tell me whatever that's on your mind."

So, Hyunjin sat. His legs reached the ground unlike yours, and his eyes fixated on the stain on his sneakers. He was painfully aware of the rapid beating of his heart. The urge to tell you his feelings were bottling up quickly.

Then, it spilled.

"I like you a lot," the words were muttered before Hyunjin could stop them.

"Hm?"

"I like you," he repeated. This time, he sounded more sure, looked more sure. The raven was looking at you, blinking sanguinely.

It took a while for you to process the words, for your jaw to relax and finally respond.

The first response came in a way where you slowly turned your head towards him, blinking profusely.

You stuttered, "like me? Like like, or just friends like?"

He sighed, "like like. I like like you."

"Oh."

There it goes, the rejection. Hyunjin had expected it, but it hurt nonetheless. You were the only person Hyunjin had ever liked, his best friend since kindergarten. His feelings for you ran deep. He was merely sixteen, yes, but he was well aware of how strongly he felt for you.

You didn't expect it, but he tapped on your shoulder comfortingly, as if to say, "I know you don't like me, it's okay."

You were right.

"I know you don't like me, it's okay," he comforted, "I just wanted you to know."

"No, I do like you," you confessed.

"What?"

"Yeah," you replied, breathlessly, "was just shocked, that's all."

"Oh."

Silence blanketed the two of you as the conversation exchanged slowly seeped into your brains. Hyunjin looked like he was simply admiring the view in front of him but really, his brain was going haywire.

"No, I do like you," the words repeated in his brain over, and over. They filled his brain with dopamine, the kind of rush that even his favourite football team winning could not replicate.

The five words which will be engrained in Hyunjin's mind forever.

"I like you a lot."

The five words which will be engrained in yours.

"So..." you broke the silence, "what now?"

Hyunjin's pointer circled against the wood of the bench, itching to hold your hand, "we... you know. Date."

"Yeah. Okay."

For best friends who have known each other for years, it was abnormally quiet for the two of you.

But it was okay. Hyunjin was content with the small smile lingering on your pretty face, and your hand in his — finally in his.

𝐭𝐰𝐨.

The sound of a pan sizzling and a kettle crackling seeped into the guest bedroom, though the sound of Hyunjin and his mother's voice caught your attention the most.

You were spending the weekend at the Hwangs'. Your parents were on a company trip that weekend and didn't trust you alone so naturally, they dropped you off there. You were about to take your morning shower, a towel slung over your shoulder when their voices stopped you in your tracks.

"You really like her, Hyunjin?" his mother asked, her voice the epitome of motherly.

She truly is the stereotypical loving mother — soft, and nurturing. Lunchbox ready on the table every morning, not a single football match of Hyunjin's missed. Treated you like the daughter she never had, braided your hair by the porch as Hyunjin ran around with his beloved dog.

"Um," Hyunjin muttered, silverware clinking against plate as he cut through a sausage.

You clasped your ear against the door, eager to hear more.

"You don't have to be shy with me, Hyunjin."

"I do like her," you heard him say, "a lot."

Crimson crept up your face, and you could picture his face doing the same. You could imagine the tips of his ears going red, and his mother looking at him with a grin.

"You want to marry her?" she asked jokingly.

"I do," he answered. Confidently. Surely. Absolutely no hesitation. As though it was the one sole thing he was sure of in his life.

"Oh, my Hyunjin," his mother cooed, "you're all grown up now!"

You didn't know what happened next, how their conversation continued because you were too busy stifling yourself from giggling giddily. Your back was pressed up against the door, replaying the eavesdropped dialogues in your head over and over. Overcame by excitement, you failed to notice the footsteps approaching the door.

Before you knew it, your head came in contact with the wall as the door swung open. Hyunjin stood in front of you, confused as you rubbed your forehead.

"So aggressive, and for what?" you grunted, looking up at him with a pout.

"Who told you to stand by the door like an idiot?" Hyunjin huffed. Nevertheless, he reached towards your forehead, checking for any bruises.

"You'll be okay. Next time, don't stand by the door like an idi—" he paused, "wait. Did you hear anything?"

You batted your eyelashes innocently, playing dumb.

"Hear what?"

Hyunjin sighed out of relief, ruffling your hair, "nothing you need to worry your pretty self about. Just go shower. I saved you some pancakes."

"Aw," you pecked his lips, "you're so sweet, and so caring. You must want to marry me."

He smiled, but the face soon contorted into one of annoyance.

"So you heard!"

"Heard what? The fact that you're obsessed with me and want to marry me so bad?"

"You're so annoying, y/n."

"You still want to marry me though."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "shut up, or I'll take it back."

He wouldn't.

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

Exhaustion lugged on Hyunjin as he exited the entertainment building. He's been a trainee for a couple of months now, and the burn-out was no joke. A day with you was exactly what he needed. A couple of days spent with his home, his solace — and he refused to come empty-handed.

Thus, he roamed around the park, in search of wildflowers. Anything he could get his hands on, just as long as he could form a bouquet from them. Hyunjin ducked and moved around, pulling out any flower he deemed beautiful enough. A black hair tie tied together the ensemble of florals. He wished he had managed to get his hands on some ribbons but alas, he couldn't. For now, the black hair tie on his wrist would suffice.

You arrived right when you promised you would. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, Hyunjin swore that you came right out of a daydream. He watched you wander around in the park for a while, admiring from afar. Even with a confused expression plastered across your face, he still found you gorgeous. A part of him wished that he was simply your secret admirer, so that he could keep watching you from afar for hours. Not being able to be around you would suck though, so perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

“Y/n!” Hyunjin finally called you out, waving his hand to catch your attention, “here!” 

You whipped your head towards his direction, lips twitching into the cutest smile once you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

An arrangement of colourful flowers was handed to you once you were in front of him.  You vividly remember how beautiful it was — petals of yellow, pink, and white which coincidentally matched your dress. Hyunjin on the other hand remember how you looked, the pupils of your eyes practically shining at the ensemble. 

“For me?” you asked, looking at him with big, bright, eyes.

Hyunjin nodded, “for you, of course. Flowers for a flower.”

“Oh,” was all that you could utter, overwhelmed by appreciation. You gently pet the petals, “they’re so pretty.”

“Really?” Hyunjin queried, “I don’t have any money. I wish I could buy you pretty roses and tulips, but I really cannot afford them right now. This is the best that I could do, and I’m sorry my love.”

“Don’t you dare say sorry, Hwang Hyunjin. The fact that you spent time to find these flowers means a lot to me, and makes them even more special. I love them, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He nodded, smiling sheepishly. All the worries he previously harboured immediately disappeared at your words. 

“Okay, love. Let’s go then, find more flowers and I’ll make a wreath out of them for you.”

Years later, and the flowers had long wilted away — pressed and put in a frame for display, resting on a table with vases of flowers accompanying it. 

Hyunjin never stopped gifting you flowers. 

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.

A yellow bus drove away, leaving two figures at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. 

The outskirts of Seoul — only ever acknowledged as a place vehicles pass by. No stores, no houses in sight, just a lonesome bus stop surrounded by greens. 

Hyunjin would’ve never stepped foot in this place if it wasn’t for you. If it wasn’t for you climbing into his window and hysterically crying, he wouldn’t have purchased tickets to the middle of nowhere. He would probably be in bed and wake up at noon. 

“I want to run away,” you told him, hours before.

“Okay,” he replied, “I’ll go with you.” 

Normally, Hyunjin wouldn’t support your attempts at rebelling against your parents. Honestly, the words, “don’t be dumb and just say sorry,” sat at the top of his tongue, but they dissolved at the sight of your mascara running down your cheeks. He knew that even if he was to disagree, you would’ve packed your bags and left anyway. He would rather follow to keep you safe.

Plus, the boy knew that the rebellion would only last a couple of hours.

“Let’s sail off without a map. Just walk and see what we’ll discover.”

“Okay.”

God knows how many of those he already said to you that day. 

You walked, hand in hand, him siding with the highway. You looked far too relaxed for someone who was running away. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was terrified. If anything were to happen to the two of you there, nobody would be there to help. His free hand dug into his pocket, tightly clutching onto a butterfly knife. 

Minutes soon turned into an hour. Two people walking soon turned into one — Hyunjin ended up carrying you on his back after seeing that you’ve blistered your feet. He nagged about your choice of footwear, but amidst the nags, he still opted to carry you anyway. Your hands rested around his neck, chin on his head as he walked aimlessly, just waiting for you to finally cave in and ask to go home. 

“Hyunjin, look!”

“Hm?”

The boy turned around, gasping at the sight which greeted his eyes. A field of flowers stretched as far as his eyes could see, green plains decorated with splotches of colourful flowers. 

Before he could say anything, you were already running towards the field, screaming in glee. He followed in pursuit, taking in the breeze and letting blades of grass sway against his legs. 

“Hurry!” 

Hurry, Hyunjin did, running towards you and lifting you off the ground. Hyunjin took advantage of the seemingly infinite space to twirl you around, and run around until the two of you turned breathless, lying on the grass to look at the sky. 

“I love this place,” you mumbled between heavy breaths, “feels like something you only see in your dreams.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow. 

Quietly, he admired you. The tranquil expression your face held matched that of the sky. He couldn’t stop the hand reaching towards your face, calloused thumb caressing your face with the same softness of a feather. Each stroke of his thumb whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

“Thank you,” your words reeled Hyunjin out of his daze, “for coming here with me.”

His eyes on you softened. 

“You don’t have to thank me. Just be around forever,” sat at the top of Hyunjin’s tongue and dissolved. 

Instead, he pressed a kiss onto your lips.

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞.

Hyunjin asked you to marry him five years after you started dating.

It was the peak of his career. He was everywhere around the world, collecting awards and breaking records. The little boy who loved football slowly turned into a superstar. He had to bid goodbye to his quiet life, making space for all the glory the world had to offer to him. His name sat at the tip of everyone’s tongues, talk of the town — Achilles reincarnate. 

That was when he decided that he would have to marry you. For amidst all that glory, you were the only stagnant thing in his life. You continued to annoy and nag him as you always do. You continued to be the first person he thinks of when he wakes, and the last person he thinks of as he shuts his eyes. You’re always the person he has in mind as he looks for souvenirs, and when he watches old couples sitting on benches in different cities.

You, you, you. 

Always you. 

Boxes scatter around the living room, some opened and some not. It’s been a few hours since the moving truck unloaded all of the boxes. Honestly, you could’ve gotten so many things done if it weren’t for the two of you constantly procrastinating. 

“Just a five-minute break, babe,” Hyunjin whines, landing on a (still wrapped in plastic) sofa. 

You roll your eyes, “you’ve taken breaks like three times just this hour, Jinnie.”

He whines again, making grabby hands, “need my wife here right now or I’ll die.” 

The sigh which leaves your lips cannot fool him, because the slight grin on your lips gives away that you like his clinginess. You seat yourself in his arms, burying yourself in his neck. The familiar scent of fresh laundry and cologne fills your nostrils, washing away the exhaustion from the day. 

“Me, my wife, and a new house,” you hear Hyunjin mumble, “feels like a dream.”

You voice your agreement by humming. It’s when you stare at the boxes surrounding you that the reality finally sinks in. You’re married to the boy you met in kindergarten. His toothbrush will be in a cup next to yours, his mug will be in the dishwasher with yours, and your dirty laundry will be in the same machine. You’ll wake up next to him every day for what you hope will be your entire life. 

You smile at the thought, sinking yourself into Hyunjin even more. He’s holding you with one hand, the other rummaging through a box when he takes out a Polaroid, showing you it with glee.

A Polaroid of you and him under a cherry blossom tree, five years ago. 

“Isn’t this from the first day we started dating?” Hyunjin asks, blinking his eyes at you.

You tilt your head to observe the polaroid, “oh… Yes, it is, babe!”

He’s laughing, particularly at how red his face looks in the picture. 

“Oh my god, we have to recreate this picture soon, love.”

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs , @bbujiikseu , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @jeonginwrld @kflixnet

disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 5

Hey guys on to week three of the this lovely fic. It's nearly done, only one more chapter to write and the last two will be up next week just before Christmas!

Next up: ice skating! Robin and Eddie show off and Eddie and Steve get a little closer.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

The next thing I offered for them to do was maintain the pond that everyone used for ice skating.

It was an easy enough task, just scrape away the skate mark with a small sled pulled by one of the reindeer herd and the device on the back, then cover the pond with a thin layer of water to make sure the ice was kept at a consistent thickness.

All they had to do was after everyone had gone home, follow those simple instructions.

I hoped figured that they would be as exacting with the pond as they were with the snowpeople but again they proved out to surprise me yet again.

The first night I assigned the task to them, they hadn’t come in for dinner, and so I went in search of them.

I found them by the fire pits we kept around the pond to warm up between skates, sound asleep.

The reindeer had wandered off with the scraper still attached creating great big gouges in the snow, the water had flooded the pond and was creeping out over the banks, like some monstrous thing.

Quickly I turned off the water and released the reindeer. The poor thing bounded off in search of his own meal as soon as he was freed.

There was nothing to be done about the pond until the next day. There wasn’t much sun this time a year, and too soon there would be none, but the sun we would get the next day, would be enough to melt the pond back to its proper borders.

Gently I roused the elf.

They woke with a start and looked out at the pond in dismay. They looked up at me and sighed, “Why can’t I do anything right?”

I sighed too. I didn’t have an answer for the little elf. Their eyes welled up with tears and I held them close.

There must be something they were good at.

~

Steve pulled up to the rec center and gently placed his head on his steering wheel. His father had called that morning to yell at him for not coming into work.

He had tried several times to tell him that he had been dealing with vendors and things for Christmas party and that he had been given the time off to complete all of his tasks.

But still his father ranted and raved that Steve wasn’t applying himself like he should and that he needed to step up and be a man. Especially if he wanted to take over the business.

Steve couldn’t have imagined a worse fate than that. He struggled to keep up with his co-workers in meeting the same marks they did in their sleep.

And now he was going into another circle of hell. Ice skating. Something he hadn’t done since he was a kid.

He got up out of the car and walked toward the rec center. Robin had come through with the buying him a new coat, even though he told her she didn’t have to. It was nicer than his old tan overcoat. It was blue and woolen and lined with something soft and fluffy. He put it on and was instantly warm. He paired it with navy blue leather gloves and matching newsboy cap.

Steve wore his sneakers because he wanted to be able to slip his shoes off and on easily to put on his skates.

When he got to the rental line, he looked around and saw that everyone else had beaten him there. Sitting in his car with a sense of existential dread probably contributed to that. He got to the front of the line and gave him his shoe size.

“Figure or hockey?” the bored teenager asked dryly.

“Hockey.”

The kid turned around and grabbed the right size off the shelf and handed it to him, calling over his shoulder, “NEXT!”

Steve gulped and walked over to the seats and slipped off his shoes. Eddie spotted him and skidded to a stop in front of the wall.

“There you are, Stevie!” he greeted brightly. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to make it!”

Steve blushed as he strapped on his skates. He laced them as tight as he could and went to stand up. But he barely moved one half step forward and he was falling back onto the bench with a thud.

“Whoa!” Eddie said and trotted up to Steve doing the strange little chicken walk one does when they have skates on something other than ice.

He knelt in front of Steve felt the boot of his skate. “They’re the right size, but they’re aren’t keeping your ankles straight.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m wearing the right skates.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side and looked at him curiously. “Right skates?”

“Hockey skates.”

But when that didn’t seem to clear up Eddie confusion he said with a eye roll, “You know, the boy skates.”

“I didn’t know skates were gendered,” Eddie said in confusion. “Girls play hockey and there are shit ton of famous male figure skaters. Got several divisions of ‘em at the Olympics and everything. Who told you hockey skates were for boys and figure skates were for girls?”

Steve looked down at the ground mumbled something.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Eddie apologized.

Steve looked up, his bottom lip quivering. “My dad.”

Eddie’s heart sank to his stomach as Steve went to explain that one and only time he’d been to a skating rink was when he was ten and he had innocently asked the attendant which type of skate would be easier for him and was handed a pair of figure skates.

He had excitedly ran out on to the ice, wobbling and happy. Until his dad spotted the skates on his feet.

It was the one and only time his dad had full on hit him. Called him all sorts of names that Steve didn’t want to repeat in polite company before dragging him off the ice and demanding their money back. Like how dare they give his boy girly skates!

Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart. But let’s get you the proper skates and we’ll get you out onto the ice, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie pulled the hockey skates off of Steve’s feet and took them back to the rental attendant. Within minutes Steve was wearing the tan figure skates on his feet and Eddie was gently, gingerly leading him out onto the ice.

“It’s scary,” Steve whined, his eyes squeezed shut, when they were only two steps from the wall.

“Reach out with your hand,” Eddie said, “and you’ll be able to touch the wall.”

Steve swatted the air blindly until it landed on something solid. He hesitantly opened one eye and saw that he had accidentally landed on Eddie’s shoulder. The man who was smiling at him fondly.

“Oops!”

Eddie laughed. “You’re fine. I’ll be your guide wall if you need me to be.”

Steve looked up at him in awe. “You’re really great, you know that, Eddie?”

Eddie’s already pink cheeks burned bright red. “I think you’re pretty great, too, Stevie.”

Robin and Max came streaking toward them and Steve raised his hands for impact.

An impact that never came. Steve cautiously opened his eyes to see Eddie dusting himself off of ice shavings. Ice shavings from Robin and Max’s perfect stop.

“Don’t torment the newbie,” Eddie was admonishing them. “Steve’s never been ice skating before.”

Max’s wide green eyes turned to him in shock. “But you live in Indiana,” she said, “how is it you’ve never gone skating!”

Steve just shrugged. “My parents aren’t summer people, we weren’t usually in Indiana during the winter.”

Which was only a half a lie. His mother wasn’t a snow bunny and when it was her turn to plan the Christmas vacation it was always somewhere warm and tropical.

“Rich people,” Max said, rolling her eyes.

“That must have been so nice,” Robin said with a smile. “I would love to go somewhere warm for the winter. Just once.”

She sidled up to Steve’s other side and took his arm. “All right, the way you want to do this, is first bend your knees a little and keep your upper body inline with your knees at about hip width apart.”

Steve followed her instruction and almost immediate could feel the difference in stability.

Robin and Eddie continued their instruction and soon Steve was fairly steady on the ice. Eddie came up to them and gently took Steve’s elbow from her.

“Go show off,” Eddie said with a grin. “I know you wanna.”

Steve looked up at her and tilted his head at her. “Do you know how to do tricks and stuff?”

“I’ve been skating since I was old enough to walk,” she muttered. “I’m okay.”

She started to skate off, but Eddie called her back. “Wait, I have an even better idea.” He looked around and spotted Max.

“Hey Mad Max!” he called out. “Come keep an eye on Steve for a moment.”

She was about to tell them to fuck off when she realized what was about to happen. “Oh hell yeah.”

She raced over to Steve and carefully lead him over to the side wall. “Stay there. You’re gonna want a front row seat for this.”

Then Max put her fingers to her lips and let out a piercing whistle. “Oi, dipshits! Get your asses off the ice! Eddie and Robin are going to show off!”

Suddenly Steve was mobbed by everyone else as they all lined the wall.

Dustin grinned from ear to ear. “You’re going to really love this, Steve. Eddie and Robin are soooo cool.”

Steve just nodded as Robin and Eddie got into position on the center of the ice.

“You sure you can keep up, Eddie?” Robin teased, elbowing Eddie in the ribs.

“Bitch I’ve got moves,” he replied with a grin.

They started off together, arms out and in perfect sync.

That was when Steve noticed for the first time that Eddie was wearing figure skates too. He knew that figure skates were good for beginners but watching Eddie and Robin glide on the ice, he knew that’s not why Eddie wore them.

“Double Axel,” Robin muttered, “in three, two, one!”

They both jumped into the air and spun twice, landing without so much as wobble.

“Lutz, double Lutz, Axel,” Eddie murmured back.

Jump, double jump, and turn.

“All right,” Robin said, grinning from ear to ear, “I think we’ve sufficiently warmed up. Let’s do this, pretty boy!”

They went through a whole routine and everyone was clapping and cheering them on.

“It’s a pity they’re both gay,” Dustin said with a sigh. “Otherwise they would be perfect for each other.”

“That’s homophobic,” Max hissed. “Like, seriously shut up!”

“I am not!” He put his hands on his hips and huffed. “I’m just saying it would be cool if they were a pair off the ice as well as on it!”

Steve bumped shoulders with Dustin. “Plus it’s not nice to out people like that. Everyone should get a chance to tell people when they’re ready.”

Dustin scoffed. “Dude, I’ve seen you flirt with Eddie. You’re gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide.”

Steve pushed his shoulder. “Bisexual, thank you. Shit, kid. You don’t get to decide people’s sexuality for them.”

“Shhhh!” Mike hissed. “Just watch them.” He rolled his eyes.

Then they were done and everyone skated over to them.

“You guys were amazing,” Steve said a little breathlessly.

Eddie grinned at him.

They went to go take off their skates as the zamboni started to make its way on to the ice. Max at the helm with Robin riding along. They all piled through the same the opening, Eddie and Steve pulling up the rear.

Steve looked over his should at them. “I didn’t think they let teenagers run the zamboni.”

“Max knows her way round a rink and a zamboni better than most people,” Eddie said with a smile. “Her mom has worked at the rink every winter since she was twelve when they moved here from California.”

Steve looked back at Eddie. “That’s a long way to move.”

Eddie just shrugged. “Susan is from here and got tired of the constant sun.”

Then suddenly Eddie was grabbing him and hauling him up on to the rinkboard.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie cried. “That’s cutting it awfully close, Maxine!”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Max hissed hitting the kill switch. “Sorry, Steve! The damn wheel got stuck. Are you okay?”

Steve looked up at Eddie who still had a hold of him. “Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks to Eddie’s quick thinking.”

“I’ve got ya, darlin’,” Eddie replied softly.

~

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight

[alwaysmicado]

Sunshine

6.7k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 7

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, alcohol & painkillers, a little kiss, lots of sarcasm, angst, jealousy (reader would never!) Summary: A spontaneous meeting in a bar lays bare some uncomfortable truths. A/N: Why be sad when you can just turn off your feelings and not be sad anymore? It’s so easy. /s I can't tell you how much your messages about this series mean to me!! I love talking to you about it and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support soooo much!! Enjoy this part and let me know your thoughts! 🤍

→ previous part || series masterlist || main masterlist

The Birds Don’t Sing, They Screech in Pain

– Werner Herzog

– – –

You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart. The world is a joke and nothing you do matters.

And you got a great ass. 

So fuck it.

You close the mirror cabinet and look at your reflection. The steam from your recent shower lingers in the air, creating a hazy atmosphere around you. With a determined gaze, you meet your own eyes, trying to convince yourself of what you so desperately want to believe. 

You. Don’t. Have. Feelings. 

Sighing exasperatedly, you leave the bathroom to go get dressed. You eye the empty space on the wall where the mirror used to hang in passing and can’t help but smile sardonically at the clean floor below. Who knew you had such a talent for cleaning blood? 

If your current job doesn’t work out in the long run, crime scene cleaner could be a viable alternative.

You rummage through your drawer for a fresh pair of panties, a soft bralette without any bothersome hooks, and a flowy dress you can easily pull over your head. Comfort is key today. Your morning shower proved tricky enough, but you managed somehow, maneuvering very ungracefully to keep your injured hand dry. 

Thankfully, you were smart enough to go to bed early last night and get up in time this morning, allowing you ample time to change the bandages and dress yourself with just one functional hand.

Exhaustion still lingers in every single one of your bones, but you’re determined to not let it get you down. Not again. So, you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee, sit outside on your balcony, pop the painkillers you got at the emergency clinic on Sunday, and browse the internet for a new mirror.

The sun kissing your skin feels nice, and the fresh air invigorates your senses. There’s even a flock of birds doing their choreographed dance in the sky. Just for you. You’re living in a goddamn dream, aren’t you? 

You scoff, down the rest of your coffee, cough when it goes down the wrong pipe, and go back inside once you don’t feel like you’re choking to death anymore. It’s time for work.

Your boss graciously let you work from home on Monday and Tuesday, but since there’s an important meeting scheduled this morning, she’s asked you to come to the office today. The meds should get you through the day, you’ll just have to figure out how to do your job effectively without the ability to type with your right hand.

You could try to push some of your workload onto the new intern who’s been unsuccessfully trying to flirt with you for the past month, but he strikes you as the type to show up with flowers and a teddy bear after you compliment his sneakers once — it’s probably not the best idea to entertain him.

An office romance sounds hot on paper, but your job is the only halfway stable thing in your life, so you don’t want to mess it up for some guy. Especially if said guy looks young enough to get carded in bars.

Why can’t you just not need money and not have to go to work at all? Is that really too much to ask? 

“Get your shit together,” you murmur to yourself as you grab your bag, your keys, and quickly check your appearance in the bathroom mirror. Eh, you look fine considering the messed-up past few days you had. The black wrist brace is kind of derpy—you can already see Kristen giggling at it and very much not believing any excuse you invent for it—but the smile you force onto your face looks virtually natural. 

What a little sunshine you are. 

Sandals on your feet, sunglasses sitting on your nose, wireless earbuds in your ears, your top three songs of the week on a blissful loop, you start your walk to the office. Nothing bad can touch you when the rhythm of your favorite beats courses through your veins, encapsulating you in an invincible cocoon.

For the first few minutes at least.

Your pulse quickens and your chest tightens as the gas station, where Joel could barely wait to pull out of you before gushing about his date, comes into view. And of course, Chris, the clerk, steps outside right as you pass it to inexplicably water the two withered plants next to the entrance.

You attempt to speed walk, hoping to avoid an embarrassing encounter, but where’s the fun in that, right? Sure enough, you hear him calling after you.

You roll your eyes behind your glasses and reluctantly stop, pulling out one of your earbuds as you turn to face him. His eyes fixate on the black brace around your wrist.

“What happened to your hand? Too much fun on the weekend?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

You sigh, not in the mood for a detailed conversation, and also very much aware of what he’s probably insinuating. “Just a little accident at home,” you reply, keeping it vague. “Don’t do yoga if you’re drunk.”

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.” When he realizes you’re not going to say anything else, he’s nice enough to not keep you any longer. “Well, I hope it heals soon. And let me know if you, uh, need anything. You know where to find me.”

You nod, offering a polite smile, and continue on your way, reinserting the earbud to drown out the world. You turn up the volume, lip-sync, and ignore Joel’s call without missing a beat.

– – –

“Please, tell me. Please, please, please. Come on…you know you’re gonna tell me eventually, so let’s just save us some time and get it over with. You know I can keep a secret.”

As expected, Kristen is very intrigued by your wrist brace. In fact, she has been switching between begging for you to tell her what happened and coming up with some outlandish theories since you sat down at your desk four hours ago. To nobody’s surprise, they all involve some sort of sex accident. 

It’s kind of funny, though, that none of the elaborate stories she imagines come close to capturing the absurdity of your reality. Oh well, you’re used to it by now. And yet, there’s no way in hell you’re going to divulge one of your most vulnerable and embarrassing moments to her. Not a chance. 

“I already told you,” you say without stopping your one-handed typing. “I got drunk watching The Bachelor and then my genius brain decided that was the perfect moment to try out some new yoga positions. It’s a miracle I only sprained my wrist and didn’t break my neck.” You put on your most convincing smile and look at her. “It’s embarrassing as shit, okay? I mean, look at this thing,” you point at your injured hand. “I look like a kid who fell off a swing on the playground.”

Kristen giggles and is about to say something, but right at that moment, she receives a phone call from a client. She sighs, narrows her eyes, and mouths, “This is not over.” You wink at her and go back to typing with your left hand, occasionally swearing under your breath when you hit the wrong keys. This is all so much fun. 

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of emails, phone calls, bad coffee, painkillers, Kristen putting a heart sticker on your wrist brace, another meeting, and your phone lighting up with new messages from Joel. 

By 5:30 p.m. your brain is about to explode, so you decide to call it a day and leave. There’s a frozen pizza waiting for you at home and you can hear your pajamas and sofa calling your name. Sweet, sweet solitude; it’s so close you can feel it. You just have to walk out fast eno–

“Drinks.”

“Did you seriously just hide behind that plant and jump out?” you chuckle, and Kristen’s grin tells you that is absolutely, one hundred percent what just happened. 

“Drinks,” she repeats. And when you open your mouth, she says it again, but this time she gives you her most adorable pout.

“Okay, okay,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. “You can stop the puppy routine.”

“I love how easy you are,” she beams at you and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s go!”

The warmth of the summer evening envelops you both as you step outside. The sun, still casting its golden hues across the city, paints the urban landscape with a vibrant palette. Kristen, with a fancy sun hat perched on her head that perfectly complements her black hair, looks for bars near you on her phone.

As you try to decide on a bar, the balmy air carries the distant sounds of the city’s summer symphony. The occasional laughter from a nearby cafe mingles with the hum of traffic, creating a lively backdrop to your anticipation.

Amidst the ambient noise, your phone buzzes with Tommy’s name flashing on the screen. You answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hi Tommy.”

“Hi honey,” Tommy’s voice comes through, the background noise indicating he’s at a lively place. “Just calling to ask how you’re doing today.”

“You know you don’t need to call me every day to ask me that, right?” you chuckle, still unable to understand why he even cares. You don’t deserve him.

“Come on, it’s the highlight of my day,” he says in mock offense, and you can perfectly picture the grin on his face. 

“Well, if it’s that important to you…” you say, a smile on your lips. “I’m good. My friend and I are going for drinks. Just need to decide on a bar first.”

“What a perfect coincidence! I’m at this new place right now. They got great burgers and drinks, even non-alcoholic stuff,” he tells you excitedly. “Oh and Joel’s here, too.”

Your heart skips a beat at Tommy’s words. Joel is there, at the same place. The thought of seeing him again stirs a concoction of emotions within you — longing, uncertainty, and a subtle yearning for things to be okay. There’s an undeniable pull. You miss him.

As you take a moment to think of your answer, Kristen mouths, “Who’s that?”

“It’s my friend, and he’s inviting us to join him at a bar,” you explain to her.

Tommy’s voice perks up on the phone, “Come on, it’ll be a blast. The more, the merrier!”

You look at Kristen questioningly, and she gives you two thumbs up and a big smile. 

You sigh and look up at the sky. There’s a big bird chasing a smaller one. “Okay, we’re in,” you say to Tommy, and his excited shouts in your ear make you giggle. He sends you the location and you immediately order an Uber for you and Kristen. You don’t have to wait for long.

Sitting in the car, your initial, albeit reluctant, excitement has turned into annoyance as the hands of the clock seem to move at an agonizingly slow pace. What was supposed to be a ten-minute journey has stretched into an interminable thirty minutes, courtesy of the unrelenting rush hour traffic. 

The air inside the car feels stifling, even with the AC humming, and the incessant chatter about football between the driver and Kristen becomes an indistinct drone. Your lack of interest in the sport combines with the whirlwind in your head, making their conversation an incomprehensible blur.

As your stomach churns, a sense of queasiness settles over you, intensifying the already uncomfortable ride.

By the time you make it to the bar, you’re tired, cranky, and wish you had just gone home after work. You could be lying on your sofa right now, stuffing your face with pizza, watching Netflix, and testing your new vibrator before falling asleep in your soft bed. But no, you just had to be social, hm?

As you enter the crowded and lively bar, the buzz of upbeat chatter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic thump of music surrounds you. Everyone’s loud and happy, and you’re just not in the right mood for it. Slowly making your way through the sea of faces with Kristen trailing behind, you spot Tommy seated in a cozy booth.

The mere sight of him puts you at ease — for about a second, that is.

Your eyes fall onto Joel and the woman who’s casually touching his shoulder, comfortably nestled against the plush cushioned seats. You’ve never seen her before, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or even a sober brain to figure out who she is. What is she whispering into his ear now? He’s laughing. You can see his eye crinkles from where you’re standing.

The sight is like a punch to your gut.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place, and the urge to turn around and run away grips you. Unwelcome emotions and memories surge back, catching you off guard and leaving you breathless. Just as you contemplate an escape route, Tommy spots you from across the room, his face lighting up. 

“Sweetheart,” he shouts, rising from his seat and waving enthusiastically. His excited shout draws the attention of everyone around him, including Joel. Your eyes lock, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades. The corners of his lips instinctively turn upwards as he looks at you, but after spotting your wrist brace and the pained look on your face, he furrows his brow.

What the hell happened to you?

In the blink of an eye, you flip a switch in your brain, put on the most radiant smile you can muster, straighten your shoulders and cross the room. Joel’s concerned eyes don’t leave you for a second.

“There she is,” Tommy says, genuine warmth in his voice as he leans in to plant a kiss on your cheek, followed by a tight, comforting hug. “It’s so good to see you.” 

“You too, Tommy,” you murmur, a sense of momentary relief washing over you in the wake of his presence.

He pulls away from the hug, extending his greeting to Kristen, before introducing you both to the beautiful brunette sitting next to his brother. Draping his arm around your shoulders, he tells you with a smile that, “This is Jan, an old school friend of mine. We actually didn’t plan this whole meeting with everyone, somehow we just all ended up here. Funny coincidence,” he chuckles and you strain the muscles around your mouth so hard it hurts.  

“It’s nice to meet you, Jan,” you say, reaching out to shake her hand. She reciprocates your greeting and gives you a charming smile. 

“And I don’t need to introduce you to this guy, huh?” Tommy grins, squeezing your shoulder.

Your gaze shifts to Joel, who’s caught in the limbo of whether to remain seated or stand up, so he ends up awkwardly half-standing, caged in the narrow space between the bench and table.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, your eyes lacking their usual vivacity—a detail not lost on him.

He settles back into his seat, audibly clearing his throat. “Hi, darlin’.”

He studies your face as you settle down beside Tommy. You look as beautiful and glowing as always, but the longer he looks, the more cracks in the carefully put up facade he can see. Your smile isn’t genuine, your eyes look a bit swollen—like you’ve been crying or not sleeping well—and your body language screams unease.

The others may not notice, but he does. Because he knows you.

Kristen takes a seat beside Jan, seamlessly weaving herself into the ongoing conversation with Joel. Her ability to navigate social dynamics with such ease leaves you marveling – how is she so good at this? Her charm extends, connecting the trio in animated small talk.

Your body eases into a semblance of relaxation as Tommy pulls you closer and presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispers into your hair, a tender reassurance that brings a sense of solace.

Sitting up straight, you return his smile, gratitude evident in your eyes. “Thanks to you.”

Tommy beams at you, momentarily lost in the exchange, before redirecting his attention to the group. “Are you guys ready for a first round of drinks?” he asks, the unison response from everyone echoing with enthusiasm, a collective “yes” that adds a burst of energy to the already vibrant atmosphere. 

– – –

After three rounds of drinks (you very responsibly decided to change to coke after one mojito), burgers, nachos, sharing the epic tale of how you managed to hurt your hand doing yoga, Jan gossiping about the guy her adult daughter brought home last week, Tommy sharing hilarious stories from his and Joel’s workplace, and everyone seemingly having loads of fun, you let yourself relax a bit.

It’s nice witnessing Joel’s laughter and enjoyment. A warmth spreads through your heart at the sight, a flicker of happiness for him. Yet, the subtle discomfort lingers as Jan’s touch becomes a constant presence on his arm. Rationalizing it as a casual gesture during conversation and under the influence of drinks doesn’t fully erase the twinge of unease settling within you.

But you can handle it, you convince yourself.

Until you can’t. 

You can’t handle it when Jan’s hand finds its way to Joel’s thigh and her lips brush the shell of his ear.

You glance at Joel, searching for a reaction, a flicker of discomfort perhaps, but his response is subtle. A shift in his seat, a movement so slight it could be mistaken for a casual adjustment, yet there’s a discernible change in his demeanor. It’s a momentary pause, a beat in the rhythm of the evening.

The weight of the scene bears down on you, and you feel a pang of vulnerability, a subtle ache in your chest. In that split second, a mix of emotions surges within you – a tinge of hurt, a brush of jealousy, and a sting of betrayal.

Emotions you haven’t felt in years. Emotions you have sworn to yourself you’d never feel again.

Why does it bother you so much? Is it because it reminds you of how you touched him, how you ran your hand further and further up his thigh when he was taking you home for the first time, teasing him until he couldn’t take it anymore, pulled his car over and fucked you in the driver’s seat? Has she done that with him? Is she as addictive as you are?

This close to a full-blown panic attack, you jump up from your seat to the surprise of everyone at your table. You make brief eye contact with Kristen, who shoots you a sympathetic look. 

Excusing yourself, you navigate through the bustling crowd towards the restrooms, located downstairs and accessible via a staircase. There are three separate spacious restrooms, and you choose the first one. Inside, you immediately head to the sink, running your left hand under cold water. The sensation helps to calm you down.

Closing your eyes, you take deep breaths, reassuring yourself that it’s not a big deal, and that it’s exactly what it was always meant to be—probably even for the best.

Then, as you try to find composure, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

“Occupied!” you yell in response to the knock, and then you hear Joel’s deep voice saying, “It’s me.” 

Of course it is.

You sigh exasperatedly and shuffle to the door to let him in. Joel enters, swiftly locking the door behind him.

“There’s two other restrooms, you know,” you murmur as you walk back to the sink and divert your attention to your reflection in the mirror, concentrating on fixing your hair. 

“Yeah, well, I specifically want the one with you in it,” he says with a little smirk, his eyes searching for yours in the mirror. As your gaze meets his, he’s taken aback by the lack of the usual sparkle that used to light up your eyes at the sight of him. The absence of that adoration he’s grown accustomed to leaves a void, and a tinge of concern creeps into his expression.

“Hey,” he says tentatively, his voice softer than before. “Are you okay, darlin’?”

You look at him, and the weariness in your eyes doesn’t escape his attention. There’s a distant quality to your gaze, and it sends a pang of worry through him. The connection he once felt in your eyes seems to have dimmed, and he can’t help but feel a sense of loss.

It’s the same expression you had when he last saw you. He hates it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you respond, putting on your fake smile again, but the lack of conviction in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Joel’s concern deepens as he steps closer, the teasing smirk replaced by genuine worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you, but you haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls.” He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat, his brow furrowed. “I was worried something happened, and—he points at your injured hand—my feeling was right.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “What happened?”

You turn around and lean against the sink, holding your right arm with your left hand, your eyes revealing a complex mixture of emotions. “I told you already,” you say nonchalantly. “Getting drunk and trying to do elaborate yoga poses is a dumb idea if you’re as clumsy as me.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, not believing a word you’re saying. “That’s not all, is it?”

“What do you mean?��� you say, feigning ignorance.

“You don’t seem like yourself and I’m…worried about you.” Joel’s concern etches lines on his forehead as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes, usually warm and comforting, narrow slightly as he studies your seemingly cheerful facade.

“But this is myself.” You point at your smiley face with your left hand and tilt your head. “You don’t like it?”

He shakes his head, a subtle sigh escaping him. “That’s not what I said. I just feel like something’s off.”

“Is it because I’m happy?”

“It’s because I don’t believe you’re happy. I know you too well, baby.”

You scoff, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m happy? Do you want me to be miserable?”

“No, sweetheart. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy. But you’re lying to my face right now and I don’t appreciate that.”

You turn your head to avoid his gaze, your silence speaking volumes, your hand tightly gripping the flesh of your arm as if to contain the emotional turmoil threatening to spill over.

Stop it.

“Darlin’,” Joel says gently, closing the physical gap between you two, and reaching out to place his warm palms on your shoulders. “Look at me.”

A shiver runs down your spine and tiny goosebumps instantly form on your skin. You’ve missed his touch more than you care to admit — to yourself or to him. His touch is tender, a plea for connection, but you hesitate. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, revealing the deep sadness you tried to conceal.

What happened to you? Whatever it was, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to protect you.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks softly.

“Not everything’s about you, Joel.”

“I know that. I just…wish you would let me know what’s going on.” His touch becomes a subconscious reassurance as he absentmindedly rubs your arms, as if trying to make sure you’re really there in front of him.

“Why do I owe you that? Why do I owe you every shitty detail of my life while I know virtually nothing about you?” you say a little sharper than intended. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You don’t owe me anything. I just thought–” he pauses, searching your eyes. “I miss seeing that spark in your eyes when you look at me,” he admits, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I never fully realized how much it meant to me until now.”

You take a moment to process his words and his touch as frustration bubbles up inside you. Your heart aches.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what? Caring about you?”

“Ruining the mood.” You shake your head, swallowing what you actually want to say, any traces of happiness erased from your face. “If you’re trying to make me feel bad, it’s starting to work.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to understand what’s happened since the last time I saw you.” He tilts his head and studies your face, genuine concern in his eyes. 

All you can see, though, is disappointment. He’s disappointed in you, you can sense it. And how could he not be? You’re a liability, a mess. Looks like he’s finally seeing you for who you are, and that’s why he replaced you.

“And now’s the best time to do that?” you scoff, averting your gaze and looking around. 

“What am I supposed to do when you don’t respond to me for days on end and this is my only chance of talking to you?”

You look back into his eyes. “How about leaving it alone?”

“I can’t do that. Not when it comes to you,” he says, shaking his head and moving closer, his cologne filling your senses like a familiar embrace. His hands trace the contours of your neck, a gentle and deliberate touch that ignites a cascade of sensations. His thumbs brush your cheekbones with a tenderness that speaks of longing, his gaze dropping to your lips before finding your eyes again.

In that charged moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken desires before you both succumb to the magnetic pull drawing you together. Your heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm of anticipation. Without breaking eye contact, he closes the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. The familiar sensation of his lips on yours is both electric and comforting, and you allow yourself to get lost in it for a bit.

As he eases away, his fingers trail lightly down your neck and arms, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. There’s a soft smile on his lips as he breaks the silence. 

“I mean it when I say I care about you and want the best for you, darlin’,” he murmurs. “And you don’t have to tell me any details about what happened if you’re not ready yet, but I need to know what made you not want to call me. We’ve been there for each other in difficult situations before, so I just really don’t get it.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, frustration and anger intertwining with the lingering memory of his lips on yours.

“Why in the world would I ever call you while you’re on a date?” you say quietly, a steely edge in your voice, no trace of a smile to be found on your lips.

Oh. So it did bother you. 

Joel’s expression shifts from concern to a momentary realization, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I would always drop everything to be there for you. No matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

You laugh wryly. “Joel. Seriously. Are you really trying to tell me you were oh so worried about me while you were fucking someone else? And that you’re worried now even though she’s currently upstairs, desperately waiting for you to take her home? Come on, don’t insult my intelligence.”

He stares at you in utter disbelief and takes a step back, as if physically recoiling from the weight of your words. “That’s not what–”

“Look, Joel,” you push yourself off the sink, straighten up, and walk past him towards the door. “It doesn’t matter. You can fuck or date whoever you like. Jan seems nice and like a good match, so I’m very happy for you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not doing any of that. You misunders–”

You turn around sharply to look at him. “I misunderstood the woman who’s had her hands all over you the whole evening?” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, trying to get through to you. “She’s drunk as hell and probably doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. And I’m not interested anyway.”

“Sure. That’s why she’s here right now.”

“I had nothing to do with that. Tommy invited her without telling me,” he says, running his fingers through his hair as his stress is mounting. “Darlin’, please. This isn’t even about her; it’s about you and me. And maybe it’s time to stop pretending everything’s okay when it’s clearly not.”

You turn your head, deliberately avoiding the intensity of his gaze as the weight of his words settles in. His plea sends palpable waves of discomfort through your already wounded emotions, causing your chest to tighten further. Why is he doing this? Is this fun for him? 

“So you’d rather keep pretending everything’s fine?” he presses, his tone a mix of concern and urgency, the edges of his patience beginning to fray. 

Okay, now you’ve had it.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Joel. What do you want from me?” you hiss at him, frustration dripping from your words.

Joel is momentarily taken aback, but his own agitation prevents him from fully grasping your distress. A deep sigh escapes him as he props one hand on his hip, rubbing his eyes wearily with the other.

“Since when does it matter what I want?” he murmurs.

Ouch.

That hurt.

Your face falls, and you feel like he just slapped you across the face. The sting of his words cuts deep, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

Joel’s eyes widen in shock when he sees the look on your face. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, realizing the impact of his words a moment too late. “I’m sorry, baby, I–” his voice trembles with regret, desperate to undo the damage he’s done.

“Is that how you really feel? That I don’t care about what you want?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so–”

“But that’s how you feel? Deep down?”

Why are you acting so surprised? Were you really naive enough to believe him when he said he was happy with you? God, you’re dumb.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he reaches out to wipe away the tears that are making their way down your cheeks, but you push his hand away.

“I came here for you, Joel,” you blurt out, your raised voice startling him. “And I–I spent the last three hours making conversation with everyone, including the woman you’re fucking, because I care about you and want you to be happy, even though my hand is killing me and I’m so drained I have to force my eyes to stay open.”

You express yourself with animated hand gestures as you talk through your tears, your voice breaking. 

“I had a horrible weekend and needed some time to recover, but I was so fucking happy to see you tonight because I’ve missed you and I’ve–I’ve never hidden how much I like spending time with you. Why is that not enough? What more do you want from me?”

Your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s, and the fact that he’s the reason for your tears pierces his heart.

“Darlin’, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right what I said.”

He takes a step closer to you, the desperation in his eyes matching the pain in yours, intending to pull you into a comforting hug to calm you—and himself—down. However, you immediately take a step back, creating a physical distance between you two.

“Do you want me to cry ‘cause seeing you with another woman breaks my heart? Is that it?” 

Joel stares at you incredulously, your accusing tone making him wince. “No, of course no–”

Your heart is racing, and you can feel the tightness in your chest growing with every second you’re looking into Joel’s eyes. Eyes that—until now—have always made you feel so calm, so safe, so…loved. Your hands tremble slightly, and a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to speak.

“Do you want me to make a scene in front of everyone ‘cause it physically pains me to think you’re touching her the same way you touch me?”

Joel opens his mouth to say something, a fleeting impulse to express himself and try to console you, but he catches himself, realizing that uttering those words might inflict more damage than repair right now. 

“Do you want me to beg you not to leave me ‘cause I can’t even imagine my life without you anymore? Is that what you want?”

“Sweetheart...” He takes a step towards you, his eyes pleading, but you cut him off.

“No, I’m fucking sick of this,” your words spill out between sobs as tears stream down your face. “It’s always the same. I’m good enough only as long as I act the way you want it, and the minute you get bored or realize I’m not as perfect as you imagined, you replace me with someone better. Everyone always fucking leaves and I’m so sick of it.”

“Darlin’, I swear that’s not what’s happening,” Joel implores, his whole body so tense and hot he’s sweating through his shirt. “I’m not leaving and I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You sigh deeply, grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, blow your nose, and dry your tears.

“I knew this was gonna happen and I still let myself believe I could be enough for once,” you murmur more to yourself than him, your head pounding painfully.

Serves you right for having feelings.

Joel says your name gently, trying his best not to spook you. His words hang in the air like a lifeline, a desperate attempt to mend what is broken.

“You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

Your head is spinning, emotions tumultuous and unyielding. In dire need of fresh air and distance from Joel, you stagger towards the door. His voice follows you, pleading.

“Sweetheart, I promise I’m not going to leave you. And I’m so incredibly sorry for upsetting you, I just–” he exhales deeply and clears his throat. “I wanted you to be honest with me about your feelings, but this wasn’t the way to go about it. I’m sorry.”

The door swings open, and you turn around, the forced smile from before back on your lips. 

“Well, congratulations, Joel,” you say, your tone laced with a mix of bitterness and anguish. “You got what you wanted. I hope you’re fucking happy.”

The door slams shut behind you, leaving Joel stunned, alone with the haunting echoes of shattered trust and unspoken pain, the distant thump of music mirroring the beating of his remorseful heart.

As you make your way back upstairs, the residual heat of the argument lingers on your skin. Taking a deep breath, you enter the lively space once more. Tommy, who’s standing at the bar, notices you, concern etched across his face.

“Hey, is everything okay, honey?” he asks, his voice soft with genuine worry.

You manage a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. My hand’s just hurting really bad now and the meds make me dizzy, so I’ll head home.”

He furrows his brow. “Joel’s my designated driver, but I can take a cab, so he can drive you home.” He looks around, searching the bar for his brother. “Where is he anyway?”

“There’s a huge line in front of the restrooms, he’s probably still waiting. And it’s okay, Tommy, really.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, seeking solace, and bury your face in the crook of his neck. He responds by pulling you into a warm and reassuring embrace, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words. Luckily, he’s drunk enough not to smell his brother on you.

“I missed you,” you murmur, your eyes closed. 

Tommy strokes the back of your head and chuckles. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

He pulls away far enough to look into your eyes, giving you the brightest smile. “Tell you what. You come over for dinner on Friday — no ifs, ands, or buts. Maria’s been wanting to see you, and we just finished our patio, so it’s perfect.”

You pinch his cheek and shake your head at him. “It’s not fair that you’re this charming, you know? How could I ever say no?”

“Don’t say no, then,” he says playfully,  a hint of worry still in his eyes.

You sigh exaggeratedly. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”

“Attagirl. And you’re sure you don’t want Joel to drive you?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I always find my way home somehow.” You plant a kiss on Tommy’s cheek, and he finally agrees to release you from his embrace after securing a pinky promise that you ‘a hundred percent won’t flake out’.

You walk over to Kristen and Jan, who are still sitting at your table, engrossed in an animated conversation. Observing them for a moment, you find yourself captivated by Jan’s effortless charisma. She’s a real sunshine — and unlike you, she doesn’t have to fake it. Had you met her under different circumstances, you might have liked her. 

Kristen’s eyes meet yours, and her brow furrows slightly, registering the expression on your face for a fleeting moment. Swiftly, you put on a polite smile and step closer, masking the momentary vulnerability with practiced ease.

“Ladies,” you say, a touch of self-deprecating humor in your tone, “I know I’m lame, but I’m actually going home already. Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Jan answers first, surprising you with a warm smile. “Oh, that’s not lame at all! You’re just smarter than us.”

You hold up your injured hand and deadpan, “Yeah, I’m a real genius, aren’t I?”

Jan and Kristen giggle, and you join in, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie. You’re so good at this. Almost believable. 

As you look for your bag on the bench, contemplating the logistics of your departure, Kristen catches your eye and winks at you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says, giving you a reassuring look. “Our boss is gonna have a fit if I fall asleep at my desk again, so…I guess this is what being a responsible adult is,” she sighs. She hands you your bag, downs the rest of her drink, and the two of you say goodbye to Jan, who’s now getting up to search for the Miller brothers.

Kristen takes you by the hand, gently leading you outside. The cool breeze brushes against your face as the sun starts its descent, offering a much-needed breath of fresh air. Settling down down on the curb together, you find a comfortable spot, trying your best not to inadvertently flash someone as you adjust your dress. 

“I’ll call us an Uber,” Kristen says, her tone comforting. You appreciate the warmth of her presence as you wait for the ride, the fading sunlight casting a soft glow on both of you.

“Done.” She wraps her arm around you, providing a supportive shoulder for you to lean on. The two of you sit in silence, the ambient noise of traffic and distant chatter from the bar filling the air, serving as a backdrop to the racing thoughts in your mind. Eventually, Kristen succumbs to her curiosity. 

“So…” she starts, her voice carefully navigating the sensitive terrain. “That’s him?”

You chuckle faintly. “Yup. That’s him.”

“Hmm, I get it now. He’s hot as fuck,” she says, happy that she can make you laugh. “Do you think he’d be up for a threesome?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d be up for it. I’m just not so sure about his heart being able to take it. Or his back. Or his knees.”

Kristen giggles and then looks at you for a moment, fascinated by this evening’s revelations. “It’s so interesting, I had no idea you were into older guys.”

“I, uh, didn’t know either before I met him.”

“I see,” she nods, a thoughtful expression on her face. Another minute of shared silence passes before she decides to just come out and ask you the one burning question on her mind.

“Do you love him?”

You don’t need a second to think about your answer.

– – –

Thank you for reading!! 🤍

→ part 6 || part 8 || series masterlist

tagging: @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

[wosoimagines]

Sweet Sixteen

part 2 of rivals one-shots

Jo's sixteenth birthday happens during camp.

1,437 words

set in between chapter 3 and 4 of rivals.

“Dude! It’s your birthday?” 

I raised my eyes from where I was focused on my breakfast to meet Pinoe’s eyes. Everyone had turned to look at her as I froze. It didn’t take long for everyone’s eyes to turn to me. I shrunk in my seat a bit at the number of eyes that were focused on me now. 

“It’s your birthday?” 

My eyes met Becky at the question that was repeated softer. I sucked in a breath but slowly nodded. 

“Is that a problem?” 

“You didn’t tell us it was your birthday,” Becky said. I shrugged at that. Honestly, I wasn’t used to it being celebrated. “We would have got you something.” 

“You don’t have to,” I said with a shake of my head. 

“You don’t want anything for your birthday?” 

Alyssa was the one who spoke up this time. I shrugged at that. There wasn’t much that I really needed. 

“I’m getting a new pair of shoes when I get home. Well, new cleats anyways.” 

I didn’t miss the looks being shared between my teammates. 

“What do you want?” Pinoe asked. 

I was at a loss with that. I didn’t really know what they wanted me to say. I was used to just getting new soccer gear from my family. At least I got to pick out exactly what they got me. 

“How should I know? I usually get new socks and cleats and shin guards and a new ball.” 

The room went silent again. 

“Your family just gets you soccer stuff?” 

I nodded my head at Christie’s question. I tilted my head as the captain clenched her jaw, and I could see the anger that sometimes flickered in her eyes on the field suddenly set in her eyes now. 

“It’s a free day today,” Becky said, drawing my attention back to her. “You can make a list of things you’d like, and we can go shopping for birthday presents.” 

“No,” I shook my head, “That’s too much.” 

“Nah, it’s easy,” Sydney said as she suddenly sat next to me with a pen and piece of paper. “You just write down what you like to do, and we’ll go get you presents that relate to that.” 

I huffed at that. They didn’t get it. 

“Soccer is what I like to do.” 

The whole room froze. 

“If I’m not in school, then it’s soccer.” 

“What do you do besides that?” 

“I don’t. I go to school and I practice and we watch football at home. We don’t do much more than that. We go to the lake during the summer where we swim and we ski. But I don’t do anything else. I can’t do much anything else besides soccer because soccer is how I’m going to make money. And I need to be the best at soccer so that’s what I do outside of school.” 

I refused to meet anyone’s eyes at the admission. I knew it wasn’t entirely normal, but I loved soccer, so I was okay with it. 

“Okay, we’re taking you out, and if you find anything that interests you, we’re buying it for you,” Alyssa spoke up across from me. “And it won’t have anything to do with soccer.” 

I sighed but nodded. It was obvious in the way Alyssa stared me down that there was no room for discussion about it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I gave the camera a small wave as I walked into the mess hall. I knew that the team had talked Jill into letting them get a cake for me. I was a bit surprised though by the amount of boxes that were wrapped. 

Christie had me wearing the new pair of sneakers she had gotten me earlier today after I had accidentally told her that the only new shoes I ever got were my soccer cleats. She had seemed upset by the fact that my parents had only ever given me hand-me-downs for shoes. Her present was the only gift that I knew what it was. Everyone else had ended up keeping it a surprise from me. 

“Think fast, Pip.” 

I easily caught the box that Hope threw at me. She looked surprised but I had a lot of practice with everything that would be thrown at home. I shook the box before raising an eyebrow at how whatever was instead was easily rattled. I took the newspaper off before pulling the lid off. 

“It’s a rock.” 

“It’s an emerald,” Hope corrected. I slowly picked it up. “Figured you could use it. The guy says it brings love into your life.” 

I immediately dropped the emerald back into the box before shoving it in Becky’s hands. 

“No thanks,” I said as I shook my head. “Don’t need love to try to find me right before the World Cup.” 

A couple of our teammates laughed at that.  

“He also said it improves eyesight.” 

“I have perfect vision.” 

Becky ushered me to sit down before Hope and I could get into a petty argument. I did appreciate the thought of her gift though. 

“Here,” Becky said as she put another gift in front of me. “I hope you like it.” 

I sent Becky a small smile. I was sure that I would. After all, I was just happy to have presents that didn’t relate to soccer. I didn’t realize just how annoying it was to only get gifts relating to soccer. 

“You got me a camera?” 

I tilted my head at the sight of the Nikon camera that now sat in my hands. 

“It’s an F2. I figured you might like it since you seem to always try to steal the cameras at practice. But you’ll have to learn how to shoot on film.” 

I grinned at that.  

“Thanks. I love it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley spoke up. “We get it. Becky’s your team mom. You’ll love any gift from her.” 

I rolled my eyes at the defender. 

“Here,” Tobin said as a bigger box was pushed toward me. “Might as well keep it on the artistic side.” 

I raised an eyebrow at that. I did wonder if anyone got together to get me something. Maybe Tobin and Becky did? 

“Seen you doodling during film sessions,” Christen explained when I started pulling out sketchbooks and pencils and paints. “Wasn’t sure what to get so I asked Tobin for help, and we just decided to get it all for you together.” 

I hadn’t been able to draw since I was a kid. Not really. At least not if it wasn’t at school. We just couldn’t afford the amount of paper I would go through drawing and how much Mom needed to print so she could edit the chapters of her book. She always said she was old school with her editing and did it much better if she edited a paper copy. 

Present after present was pushed in front of me. Or at least an explanation of what a teammate had ordered for me was given. Like Alyssa ordering me some books she thought I would enjoy. Ali definitely took me by surprise with the amount of clothes she had bought me, but only gave me a shrug that I could start to find my own style instead of having to wear hand-me-downs from my siblings.  

Well, I thought Ali’s would be the biggest surprise, until it was Pinoe’s turn. She had waited to be last. But there were still at least twelve boxes on the table. 

The first was a pair of shoes. So was the second box. And the third. 

“Did you just get me shoes?” 

I knew that I had tried on quite a few, but the ones that Christie had got me were more than enough. 

“You’ve never had your own first pair before now. Now you have options.” 

Twelve pairs of shoes. I couldn’t believe Pinoe. 

“And-” 

“There’s more?” 

There was no way Pinoe got me twelve pairs of shoes and then something else on top of it. 

“It’s like Ali said,” Pinoe started with a shrug, “You can find your own style. I ordered you some clothes to be delivered to your house.” 

I did get into a small argument with Pinoe on whether or not what she got me was too much. It was eventually broken up when the cake was put in front of me, and I was sure that the video of my face immediately turning red as the team sang to me would be posted online. 

“Be honest,” Alyssa nudged me as she walked Becky and I back to our room, “How was your sixteenth birthday?” 

“Best one yet.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

[maya1525]

So Nice, You Swallow it Twice

18+MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving oral in classroom, language.

Word count✩࿐2.4k

Summary✩࿐Young Gojo and Geto seek to relieve the Fem!Reader from her sore throat.

BONUS ✩ — Remedy for a Sore Throat: a shot of special liquid from Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto. Make sure to swallow it all! Continue treatment if irritation is still present.

A/N✩࿐What can I say? I’m a sucker for requests. Especially for these two men, I obviously had to do them both! I hope you like the ending, I was giggling nonstop when writing it. Feedback is highly appreciated, I love reading your comments! 😙💖

You shivered from the brisk cold air that gusted up your jacket. It was a dreary fall day and the gray clouds looked ripe with snow. You stood outside of the school with your friends; Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru. The three of you were bumming a cigarette from Suguru. You inhaled its comforting warm smoke, it was close to dying and the heat from the end of it warmed your hands. You passed it on to Shoko who took a long draw, nearly ending it.

“So are you ready for the test tomorrow?” You spoke quietly while shoving your icicle hands in your pockets for warmth.

“Yeah, it’ll be a breeze,” Shoko exclaimed, passing the cigarette to Satoru.

“Really? I’m still not fully grasping the concept of it…” You admitted defeatedly, “Do you think you could go over the notes with me tonight?”

“Aww sorry hun, but I can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.” She cooed while giving you a comforting side hug, you loved how warm she was and accepted her hug with a smile.

“You have a mission?” You sighed, resting your head on her shoulder while looking out at all the dead and depressing trees.

“Nah, I gotta date.” She smirked down at you, her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

Suguru passed you the tail end of the cigarette and you inhaled its harshness, making your throat burn. So you passed it to Shoko.

“Yeah, I bet she’s lying. She probably just doesn’t want to study with you.” Satoru chimed in.

“Piss off, Gojo.” Shoko rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.

“But yeah, I should get going.” Shoko gave you a soft squeeze and threw the small cigarette to the ground, skidding on it with her sneaker.

“You’re skipping? We’ve got class in twenty minutes.” Geto chided in disappointment.

“Yeah, well tell Yaga I have period cramps. I gotta get ready for my date.” Shoko waved at you three and headed back to the dorms.

“It’s fucking freezing out here, let’s wait inside.” Satoru shivered, then opened the door to let you in first.

The three of you walked down the toasty hallways to your classroom. No one was in there yet and the lights were off, making the room look much darker. You put your bag at your desk and walked over to the heater underneath the windowsill. Gojo was the last one in the room and closed the door behind him, he didn’t bother to turn the lights on.

You put out your frigid hands by the heater, trying to warm up. All while your scratchy throat irritated the hell out of you.

“I didn’t know you got cold easily. You should’ve said something.” Suguru spoke softly behind you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders, his gentle gesture made you smile fondly at him. He put his hands out to warm them with you. His hands were so much larger and veinier than yours.

“Thanks.” You croaked out, realizing your sore and itchy throat had gotten worse.

“You don’t sound too good, you getting sick?” Gojo asked joining you both by the heater.

“I feel fine… my throat just hurts bad.” You admitted hoarsely, but you sounded like a dying animal.

“I’ve got some special liquid that could relieve that pain,” Satoru said seductively, with a playful glint in his eye.

“Satoru, you’re fucking sick-”

“Aww, you do?! That’s so sweet of you, I’d love some!” You whispered cheerfully over toward Gojo, who looked down at you with a killer smirk. The dirty joke clearly flew over your head.

“I’m glad to hear it, sit down in that chair right there and I’ll get it ready for you,” Satoru said smoothly, his flirty blue eyes watching as you sat down with anticipation.

“Don’t listen to him Y/n, he’s messing with you,” Suguru stated, glaring over at his friend with disapproval.

“Shut the hell up Suguru, she said she’d love some! And I’m going to give it to her.” Gojo retorted. “Ok babe, so what you gotta do is open up and suck my dick.”

You flushed, “You’re joking. But why?”

Satoru chuckled, “There are healing properties in a man's ejaculation. If I shoot my medicine down your throat, you’re bound to feel better.” He explained convincingly, while gently caressing your arm. Suguru was not having any of this, he turned his back and began to make his way out of the classroom.

“Oh that makes sense… but my throat really hurts. Just to be safe, do you think you can give me some of yours too, Suguru?” You asked sincerely, causing Getou to pause while he opened the door.

He quietly shut it and cast his dark gaze over you, “I’d be happy to help.“

“You hypocritical dog! I didn’t think you had it in you!” Satoru belted through hearty laughs.

“We gotta hurry though, class starts in fifteen,” Suguru stated in a matter-of-fact tone, deliberately ignoring Gojo’s comment.

Once Satoru calmed himself down he smiled over at you, “Mmkay, sweetie. Let’s make your throat feel better. You can start by unzipping my pants.” He said smoothly while resting his hands on your shoulders.

You tentatively nodded your understanding and brought your hands to his crotch. Your nimble fingers undid his silver button and then effortlessly pulled his zipper down. You saw Gojo’s heather gray boxers peak out and excitement began to bubble with you.

Satoru held his breath when you looked up at him cutely for further instructions. He lowered his pants a bit and now you were able to see the semi-hard bulge in his boxers. He took his dick out from its confines, you curiously brought your hand up to his warm rod. As soon as your fingers touched his velvety skin he tensed up, causing you to pull away nervously.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You said in a raspy whisper.

Gojo shook his head, “No, your hands are just cold.”

If that’s the case, you might as well only touch him with your mouth. You hesitantly brought your face close to his ever-growing dick. You dragged your tongue across his red hot tip, tasting the hint of that special medicine. It amazed you how he grew longer right before your eyes. You greedily lapped your tongue across him again, this time his cock arched in response. You slithered your tongue all over his length, making sure not to miss a single spot. His dick shown slick with your saliva in the dark classroom.

“Good work, now I want you to suck me,” Satoru murmured huskily, his brilliant blue eyes looking at you with heated desire. “Make sure to focus on the tip, that’s where the medicine comes out.”

Suguru leaned against the windowsill near Gojo, which gave him a perfect view of what you were doing to his friend. He felt his pants grow tight with anticipation.

Your hot mouth enveloped the head of Gojo’s dick and you sucked him off gently. In response, you felt Satoru’s hands move from your shoulders to the sides of your head. His fingers tangled in your hair softly.

“Yeah, just like that. You feel amazing.” Gojo muttered as he looked down at you with approval.

His words of encouragement inspired you to work your mouth further down his shaft. You did a combination of sucking and licking which made him groan quietly. The head of his cock rubbed against the back of your throat almost painfully, but you pushed the discomfort away. You knew that Satoru’s cum would make you feel better soon. You brought your attention to the tip like he instructed and swiveled your tongue around him. He tugged at your hair in delight.

While you swirled your tongue around him pleasurably, you were able to taste more beneficial medicine oozing from the tip. You lapped it up hungrily. As you snacked on him with your flickering tongue, your gaze drifted over to Suguru, who was watching you intently. His dark brown eyes met your eyes lustfully.

“Mmh, you’re gonna make me cum, babe. Get ready to swallow your medicine.” Satoru grunted, pulling your hair tightly, earning shivers of excitement to run up your spine. A low gasp erupted from Satoru’s lips as he fed you your hot and salty treat. You opened wide and let him spray his white medicine on your tongue. As the final spurts came out, you wrapped your lips around him and slurped him like a straw. Enjoying the taste of him on your tongue. You sucked him to the point where you couldn’t taste him in your mouth anymore. You admired the breathless look on Gojo’s face, you’ve never seen him so unraveled before.

“Fucking hell.” He hissed in pleasure, as he gently removed his spent cock from your puffy lips. He pulled his boxers back up and fixed his pants. “Ok Suguru, give Y/n her second round.”

“My pleasure,” Geto murmured, undoing his pants as he walked up to you. Within seconds, his hard dick loomed over your face. You softly kissed the tip and then you left more kisses along his length. You wanted to show him your appreciation for letting you do this.

You slid your tongue on the underside of his shaft and by doing so, you felt him pulsate needly. You dragged your tongue back to the tip and beckoned him in your mouth with your sultry tongue. You were able to taste a few droplets of his tasty liquid coming from his tip. You lapped your tongue around the head of his cock, trying to coax more to come out.

You worked further down his shaft, you sucked and swirled your tongue around him just like you did to Gojo. The head of his dick hit the back of your throat unpleasantly, but you were curious to see how far he could go. You pushed past your gag reflex and forced him down your throat. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, enjoying the tight and comfortable squeeze you provided for him.

“Damn, you’re so amazing.” He groaned quietly while resting his hands on either side of your face. He caressed your cheeks lovingly. Small tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Suguru sweetly wiped them away.

Unfortunately, his time in your throat was cut short. Panic clouded your senses when you couldn’t breathe. Your throat closed around him tightly and you began to choke. He quickly pulled his hips away from your face and his lengthy dick popped out of your mouth. His rod glistened with your slippery saliva, making him look extra appetizing.

You quickly regained your breath and greedily sucked his tip back into your hot cavern. Your tongue slithered around him passionately, causing a small and heavenly sigh to escape from his lips. While your sinful mouth worked on Suguru, your gorgeous eyes looked up at him submissively. Gojo saw this and quickly snapped a picture of you on his phone. His dick already getting hard just from the sight of you.

Suguru met your gaze with a look of pure attraction and his rod seemed to twitch in your mouth with delight. His cheeks had a faint tint of pink on them while your mouth made love to his dick. His fingers found their way to your hair and tugged at your locks while he was lost in pleasure.

“You’re too perfect. Here comes your second dose, make sure to swallow it all.” Geto shuddered and his dark eyes rolled to the back of his head and his bangs fell messily in front of his face.

He squirted his seed into your hungry mouth. You quickly deep-throated him and let him spray his medicine down your sore throat. He heavily coated the inside of your throat with his special liquid. You felt him pulsate profusely while doing so, which made a needy sensation come between your legs.

You swallowed all of your medicine eagerly, while you enjoyed the taste of him. You were careful not to choke again and pushed him from your throat. You made sure to keep the tip in your mouth while you sucked the remaining strands of liquid out. Once he finished, you affectionately licked him clean. You made sure not a single spot of him was left unlicked.

Suguru gingerly removed himself from your mouth and fixed his disheveled pants. The area around your mouth was wet from your saliva, so Gojo let you wipe your mouth off on the dress shirt he wore underneath his school uniform.

The door to the classroom swung open and Yaga flicked on the lights, “What the hell are you guys doing in here with the lights off?” He questioned while gruffly setting his things down on the desk.

This spooked the three of you pretty bad and Suguru and Satoru quickly took their seats. Thankfully you were already sitting at your desk as if you were a scholar student.

You looked at the clock with three minutes to spare, not bad. Suguru’s spot was in front of yours and Satoru sat to his right. Gojo leaned over with his phone, to show you two the slutty photo of you sucking Getou’s dick.

“So fucking hot,” Gojo smirked triumphantly at the perfect moment he captured. “This is gonna be my new screensaver.”

“Shit, send it to me,” Geto said while he leaned his hand overtop his shoulder to gently hold your dainty one. He squeezed your hand softly and you squeezed back. “How’s your throat feeling?” Suguru asked smoothly while eyeing you over his shoulder.

“Much better, thank you.” You said softly, you smiled when you realized that your voice was back to normal.

“If your throat is ever bothering you again, I’d be happy to make you feel better,” Satoru stated seductively, with a playful look in his eyes.

You gave him a gorgeous smile, “I’ll keep that in mind… As a matter of fact, I think the area between my legs is feeling a little sensitive. Maybe you should put your medicine down there too.” You whispered nonchalantly.

Gojo and Geto exchanged knowing looks, Satoru abruptly stood up from his desk and scooped you in his arms. “Teacher! Y/n just told me she’s about to faint. I’m carrying her back to her dorm for safety.” Gojo announced frantically, as he took long strides to the door. He nearly collided with Mei Mei and Nanami as they entered the classroom. You burrowed your face in the crook of his neck out of sheer embarrassment.

“I’m coming too, just in case. Also, she needs her stuff.” Geto chimed in as he grabbed your bag from your desk.

The three of you left before your bewildered teacher had the chance to speak. To his dismay, you guys didn’t show up to class the following day.

✩࿐ Like my style? Check out my other creations! ✩࿐

[mulberrysilk]

Lavender Haze

Urahara Kisuke x f!succubusreader

Summary: The vacant house next to Urahara's shop no longer remained empty as a pretty girl moves in. Was he obsessed with the girl next door? Maybe. But how could anyone blame him when you looked so delectable? Plus, he made sure to keep an eye on you, something about your reiatsu was different too...He's just being a good neighbor, that's it! He didn't expect to find out that you were more than just his beautiful neigbour...

cw: eventual smut, inspired by that line in the Chainsaw Man scene, low-key Urahara is stalkery, reader is a succubus, unprotected seggs, reader has succubus form which is small horns, wings and tail, oral(male receiving), creampie, Urahara is in love with his succubus lover, talks of reiatsu you know bleach stuff

wc: 8.2k ( she’s a long one y’all)

a/n: thought this was gonna be normal nasty smut with the normal girl next door. Turns out I made she's a succubus. ADHD brain go bRRRr.

Easily he recalled the Summer when he first met you. He had woken up past the eleventh morning hour, just in time for Tessai to return with items to stock in the store. It was the 4th Sunday of the month. The date where they routinely stocked the store with not only shinigami goods but snacks, drinks, and other convenience store items. He had wondered why there was a moving truck parked in front of the small humble house that neighbored his shop. For years it has been empty. The last owner was this little old lady who sadly passed some time ago. He was used to it being empty so it was only normal that he got curious about who would be living right beside him and his dear employees.

Opening his fan, he cooled himself from the coming afternoon heat and casually stood by the fence, the branches of the trees and their leaves, concealed his wandering eyes. Fanning himself and keeping his eyes hidden by his bucket hat, he searched for the person who was going to be his neighbor.

Out from the back of the truck in a baby pink tank top, denim shorts, and white sneakers, you appeared like those girls in the movies. The girl next door. He really thought those things were just a thing in the fictional world of movies, he didn't expect it to be happening right in front of his eyes. Was he in a movie right now? He pushed the ridiculous thought away and focused on you. He watched as you unloaded the truck with cardboard boxes that contained your belongings and shamelessly ogled the skin revealed to him due to the summer heat.

From your side profile, he could tell just how pretty you were. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, making your tank top cling to your body even more, hugging your curves and reminding him of those models in summer magazines. Was he dreaming?

He didn't even know how long he had been staring but he remembered you went in and out of the front door twice, and the heap of cardboard boxes by the pavement doesn't seem to have lessened.

“You know, if you want to make advances toward her, my tip is for you to offer to help her move the boxes.” Tessai’s deep voice sounded behind him, startling the former shinigami.

“Tessai! When did you—advances? I’m merely…looking.” He brought his fan to cover the lower half of his face, a little flustered to be caught. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his friend’s presence.

“You look like a stalker.” A haughty younger voice commented.

Urahara flicked Jinta on the forehead, who was actually looking at you too.

Meanwhile, little Ururu approached you and politely asked if you needed help. The three males hid behind the safety of the concrete fence watching as she talked to you. You smiled at the young girl and their hearts fluttered. Ururu then pointed in their direction and your eyes followed where she was pointing. Squinting your eyes, you could make out two tall figures and a smaller one.

The three of them froze, caught like a deer in headlights.

You waved prettily in their direction as a short greeting before Ururu and you moved your stuff inside.

“You like her.” Jinta teased Urahara.

“Nonsense. I know nothing about her.” He played it off coolly, fanning himself.

“You know that she’s your neighbor now and that she’s attractive.” Tessai backed up the kid, Urahara mocked an expression of betrayal as his friend took Jinta’s side.

“We shall be good neighbors to her and nothing more.” Urahara snapped his fan shut before returning to the air-conditioned confines of his shop. Although he said what he did, he was sure he was going to see a lot of you, and should the opportunity arise that he could flirt.

Just harmless flirting.  He told himself.

If only he could take back his words.

As the summer progressed, you settled into your little home and he caught you most of the time when you were coming home from wherever you’ve been but on the weekends, he would have a full view of you in your backyard, tending to the herbs and vegetables you grew at home. With the heat, you’d be in shorts most of the time and it was paired with either a tank top or a sports bra. The two of you only ever acknowledged one another silently, not having the chance to speak to each other formally but he wasn’t going to rush things. Sometimes he thinks it’s better off this way. To just look and don’t touch. It was painful in certain ways for him because, like other men, he too had his own needs and desires.

One afternoon changed everything.

It had been so hot, the air conditioning in his shop wasn’t enough to fight the heat. He had brought out extra fans to make it better and the more he stared at the frozen items box, the more he wanted to just stick his face inside to feel relief.

The door to his shop slid open and in you came. Your back was against the light that shined as you entered and it made you glow. He felt a hint of warmth collect in his abdomen when you smiled softly at him. Your shoulders and collarbones were exposed as you wore a sundress with thin straps. It was shorter than most sundresses, it came up to your mid-thigh, not that he was complaining. It cinched perfectly at your waist and the fabric of the skirt flowed and swished with every movement. God, you were absolutely delectable today.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my new neighbor. How may I help you?” He plastered on his shopkeeper facade.

“I was hoping to find ice cream.” You clasped your hands behind you and raised your shoulders in a cute way. “It’s too hot these days and I’m working from home, so I thought, ice cream would be nice.”

“Good for you, I do have ice cream and an assortment of sweets if that’s to your fancy.” He gestured to the freezer.

“Thank you.” You grinned before going to make your ice cream selection. “So…um…I know I just moved in. I’ve met Ururu who told me she works here and I feel a little rude that I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.” You made small talk, eying the variety of ice cream flavours.

“Oh?”

You introduced yourself properly, telling him your name, and extended your thanks to him for how Ururu helped you move in.

“She’s really strong for her age.” You said, finally choosing an ice cream flavour. Strawberry.

“That she is. Would you be so kind as to also get me a piece?” He asked before you made your way to the counter.

“Oh, sure. What flavour?”

“Same as yours.”

At the counter, you reached inside your little purse to pay but he spoke. “It’s on the house this time, cutie.”

Your heart jumped at the nickname. Heat collected in your cheeks and you murmured your thanks. Somehow instead of leaving, you found yourself sitting next to him in the air-conditioned living room of his house, eating ice cream and having a pleasant conversation. His company was nice and you had to admit you were proud to have made a friend out of your neighbour….attractive neighbour.

Kisuke felt the same too but he had felt the need to keep you around because he was surprised by the spiritual pressure a human like yourself had. He was curious to know if you were some special being or merely a human who will bait hollows and other entities your way. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were some special being with how endearing and magnetic you were. But if you were merely a human with such energy…well, he felt the need to protect you. It didn’t help that he was so willing because he had developed a crush, obsession? Whatever people these days called it. He just knew he wanted you in every way possible but of course, he had to be a gentleman.

“What brought you to Karakura?”

“Was looking at listings and this place was up for rent at a really good price, plus it’s an easy commute to the city and it’s quiet.” You replied, suckling at the strawberry popsicle.

“Quiet? You running away from a boyfriend or something?” He playfully suggested, sneakily asking if you were taken or not. Not that it would be a problem.

“Something like that.” You murmured and his eyes widened a little but then you broke into a smile. “I’m just kidding!”You laughed. “Have you always been a shop owner?”

“Nope.” He answered you truthfully and you tilted your head.

“Oh?”

“It’s complicated but basically, I was expelled from my past occupation.”

“Expelled? Did you do something bad?” Your gaze never left him.

“To them, yes but in my eyes, I failed at what I had to do. So I came here and decided to be a shopkeeper.” He grinned at you, making light of the topic and you gave him a small smile.

“Quite the interesting man you are.” You giggled before having another taste of your ice cream, unaware of the eyes that clouded like a storm at the way your lips wrapped at the tip of the pink iced treat. Taking a bite of his treat, he couldn’t help but wonder how soft your lips might be against his skin, his lips, or his—

“Oi! Urahara!” The shoji door slid open, the cool air from the air conditioning escaping the confines of the living room. Urahara internally sighed at his disrupted thoughts.

Your head casually turned to the unfamiliar voice and stood by the door was someone you’ve never met before. He stared at you and you stared at him, your brows furrowed as he continued to stare for quite some time. His teddy bear brown eyes looked you up and down, taking in the view of an attractive stranger with an ice lolly between her lips and the pretty summer dress she wore. Pink dusted his cheeks before he turned his attention to the man seated not too far from you.

“I-I need to talk to you!” Orange haired boy demanded, masking his fluster.

“Kurosaki-kun, as you can see I have a visitor,” Kisuke responded and you waved your hand.

“It’s okay. I can go.”  You told the two men, the urgency in Kurosaki’s eyes told you that it was important and something not to be shared with others. It’s not your problem nor did you care to know what it was.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Kisuke.” You chimed happily, sending a wink his way, and it felt like an arrow went straight into his heart. “I’ll see you around.”

So cute. He thought to himself, a little disappointed you had to go but he must admit watching you walk past Ichigo on your way out, was a pretty view that made up for your leaving. He thanked whatever designer made your dress at such a perfect length. One that wasn’t too short to explicitly tempt and not too long to bore. It was just the right length that created tension, that made Urahara wonder how pretty it would be to bunch the fabric up to reveal more of your thighs.

Once the front door shut telling them of your departure, Ichigo turned to the man still sitting and halfway done with his ice cream.

“Who was that?”

“My neighbor.” Urahara sighed with a smile that Ichigo couldn’t read but made him narrow his eyes at the playfully crafty man. “So, what is it that you need to tell me so badly that you disturbed my precious time with my pretty neighbor?”

Urahara wouldn't say he was a stalker. Maybe if anyone did see him, they'd think that's what he was doing. But he was merely watching you from the comfort of his home. It wasn't his fault his bedroom upstairs looked directly into your bedroom. He'd like to think fate was tempting him, giving him signs that your paths were meant to constantly cross.

It was definitely a game of fate because there were times the curtains were closed and days when they were left drawn apart. It’s not like he waits for you to show up or anything, there were just some instances where he’d see you going to bed in those cute pyjamas of yours. He liked in particular the pink ones or the white and pink shorts ensemble.

Tonight though, he could see you again. Lying on your stomach with a bunny plushie cradling your chin while you read a book, your legs swung in the air, the air conditioner in full blast with how hot the weather had been. This lovely night's choice of sleepwear was a white cotton tank top paired with white frilly shorts. His eyes ran along the length of your legs, wondering how smooth your thighs might be. 

Your presence in his life was constant and honestly was a breath of fresh air from all the hollow and shinigami issues that come and go. He would even say you two had become close friends. Small exchanges became him coming over to fix stuff when you need it or you going over to the shop with sweets or pastries from the city. If you had a watermelon to beat the heat, you’d share it with him.

Despite this blooming friendship, Urahara was plagued with thoughts that made his stomach warm and crave you like a wolf hungry for prey. It didn’t help that you had also become the subject of his wet dreams that had always made him wake up in a mess, sweating and he even felt like he didn’t get enough sleep….was he being a bad neighbour?

And could you blame him for the shock and dumbfounded look on his face when you, one searing hot afternoon, asked him? “So do you wanna do it?”

Your voice was soft as your head lay against the pillow of your bed, the two of you had escaped to your room after he had helped you hook the sound system to the tv. The air conditioner was on full blast and the cold air being pushed out was the only sound in the silence between you two.

Urahara sucked in a breath, and doing so made the overwhelmingly sweet scent of your sheets, of you, too much. Pheromones was it? “Do what?” He calmly grinned, not letting his composure falter.

You shifted in your position, stretching a little then leaned your head on your extended arm, locks of your hair cascading over your face and that delicate curve of your neck. Your eyes appeared sleepy as if you had some sake to drink and had gotten tipsy, it was alluring, it was…seducing. Was he dreaming again?

The summer sun glared at him and his eyes adjusted and searched for your face, finding first your glossed pink lips. “Fuck.”

Now he really was at a loss for words. He felt like who he used to be over a hundred years ago when he had become Captain. Easily flustered, nervous, and unsure of himself. “W-what?”

The sun got into his eyes again.

When they adjusted this time, your hands rested on either side of his head and you were looking down at him, meeting his gaze as your hair fell around you. The warm orange hue of the sun kissed your skin and made you and your hair glow. He could even feel the warmth of your skin  as you leaned over him, so close.

“I think you heard what I said.” You purred, throwing a leg over his hip. Urahara swallowed the lump in his throat again. Was he dreaming? Oh, god, was he dreaming?! His dreams even felt as real as this. It was hard to tell.

He didn’t dare move a finger scared that if he touched you, you’d disappear. Even when you straddled him with your cool palms against his chest. He laid still.

Your eyes never left him and he wondered if he had imagined the pink glow that flashed in your irises when you batted your lashes and pushed apart the lapels of his samue.

A finger traced along his center, from the crevice between his two collarbones down his chest and to his abdomen. “What’s wrong?”You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you cooed sickeningly sweet. “Why are you so still?” You toyed with the strings of his pants. He swore to himself. Blood was rushing down to his groin and it didn’t help that your ass was pressed against it. There was no way you couldn’t feel him harden against you.

You raised your head a little, pushing his bucket hat up in the process to remove the shadow he hid behind. His eyes couldn’t stay in one place. It jumped from your eyes, the gentle tempting smile of your lips and the sight of your cleavage as your shirt dipped low, soft breasts in their lacy bra cups,

“Y/N-chan….” He sounded as if he was warning you.

“I’m not playing any games with you, Kisuke.” You said, sliding your hands from his shoulders and then to his hands, guiding them to your waist. “Am I?”

“I think you are playing a dangerous game,” he spoke, feeling your waist, internally groaning at the fact he was touching you, really touching you.

“Awe,” you cooed, pouting your lips mockingly. “Are you nervous?” You were teasing him now, cradling his wrists and sliding them higher til they cupped your breasts.

“Aren’t you?” He managed to say, fighting the urge to squeeze your breasts through your shirt, he could already feel just how soft they were.

You shook your head, your resting smile unfaltering as you continued to splay your fingers on his exposed chest, running them up and down sensually slow you could feel the goosebumps on his skin form.

You cupped his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. Each contact made a shivering delightful feeling bloom on his skin and the intensity of your gaze melted him further and further as if it was pulling him under a spell.

The feeling intensified when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, and god, his neck. Urahara moaned softly, the heat of your lips and the slight nibble of your teeth on his sensitive skin was like another sip of exquisite saké.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He lowered his hands to your hips, grabbing the flesh as he rolled his hips upwards for so much needed friction. The feeling made you giggle. That sound was like a siren song.

“Maybe.” You said with a smile he could feel against his skin before you continued to kiss along his neck. A sensual roll of your hips and his eyes shut momentarily at the feeling. “I can tell you’re enjoying this.”

He was. He was thoroughly enjoying this, the heavy petting, the kissing, and the closeness of your bodies. This experience was different. He felt all too consumed in your aura, your presence, and your touch. It was intoxicating. He wondered if this was normal. If the dreams, the way you took up all his thoughts and now your very touch, were all still of the human world.

Before he could even question and remind himself of your spiritual energy, your lips stopped their delicious kisses and you straightened your back. You reached for the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head, your hair tousled by the removal. Staring at you felt surreal. It was almost psychedelic. Your body was the only figure that was clear while everything else other than you was fuzzy and blurred.

“I’m gonna ask you again, Kisuke.” Your voice traveled smoothly in both his ears, echoing in his head. He swore there were pink symbols in your irises right now. His eyes were locked on yours, there was no denying it. “Do you…” you pressed your naked breasts against his chest, their softness against his muscles making him painfully hard. “…want…”. You kissed his cheek. “…to…” then the corner of his lips, so dangerously close. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave marks. You were driving him crazy. You hovered your lips over his, barely touching. “…fuck?”

You didn’t have to ask him again.

A rough hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to finally, finally, kiss you.

Oh, he tasted sweet. So sweet. You could feel his beautiful spiritual energy seep under your skin. You were right to have chosen him.  Even though you moved here to start anew, you didn’t expect to meet someone like him. You didn’t know what he was exactly but his spiritual energy had you weak in your knees. It flowed bountifully like a waterfall. It was strong too which meant you wouldn’t need much to keep your capabilities base level.

You were giddy and thrilled to have found him.

This was not normal. Urahara thought as he kissed you with such hunger. His lips moved in tandem with yours, fighting for dominance and easily winning it. He thought your touch was intoxicating? Your lips were far more dangerous. They were downright hallucinogenic. It was as if they were laced with a poison that seeped immediately into his system that made the depraved lust he had for you, increase a thousandfold.

This was definitely not normal.

Your spiritual energy was increasing too, it felt like a weighted velvet blanket on his body, getting heavier and heavier. Not heavy, almost, joining with his? How was this possible?

Thinking wasn’t easy, not when he had the beautiful neighbour he’s been dreaming and fantasising of on top of him. His hands moved on their own, feeling and tracing your curves, cupping your soft breasts, and feeling their weight against his palms. This was better than he imagined you felt. It couldn’t compare.

Urahara pulled away to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell quickly while you kissed the spot on his neck that you had marked before and lowered yourself, leaving kisses along his chest and his abdomen. His breath hitched when he felt your chin brush the hem of his pants. His eyes snapped open to look down and were met with dark clouded eyes staring prettily up at him, lashes fluttering with each blink.

“Watching me from your bedroom isn’t enough is it?”

You knew? Fuck. For how long?

“You caught me,” he chuckled, petting your head adoringly. “No point in lying to you, is there?”

You shook your head with a sly, cheeky smile. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kisuke.” You untie the strings to his pants, the hem loosening easily. “Have you thought about this?”

His breath got caught in his throat. Your hand pressed against his erection through the fabric. “Y-yes. C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t tease me. I thought you weren’t playing any games with me?”

“I’m not.” You shimmied his pants down along with his boxers, cock springing freely from the constraints of the fabric.

Urahara hissed when the cool air kissed the leaking head of his cock. Was he always this sensitive? Before he could say anything, your tongue licked a stripe along his length, dreamy eyes staring up at him with lust. You enjoyed his reactions. He looked so pretty like this, cheeks flushed, eyes droopy with desire, and hair all tousled. You continued your ministrations, running your tongue once more at his perfectly sized length before kissing the cute pink head of his cock, the precum already making your senses vibrate crazily.

Like you had suckled on the strawberry popsicle the first time he had you over, your lips wrapped prettily around him, your tongue hot against his cock as you swirled it over his sensitive head.

“Keep going, sweetheart. F-fuck,” he softly moaned out. His words encouraged you and the gentle brush of his thumb along your brow made you happily take him deeper. His fingers tighten in your hair as he groaned in bliss. He was hot and heavy against your tongue, and the natural condition of your entity enjoyed the musky taste of him.

Urahara’s fantasies were incomparable to this. He was already losing his mind at the hot warmth of your mouth and the rhythmic bobbing of your head along his cock. A sharp delightful shiver ran up and down his spine when he felt his tip touch the back of your throat, you gagged cutely and he looked down at you to make sure you were okay. He was brought immediately closer to the edge when he drank in the sight of your glossy eyes staring up at him with an adorable furrow of your brows. This was far better than he imagined.

His moans left him freely, and his hand on your head continued to pet you as he felt the tension in his spine tighten. You could feel yourself get wetter just at the sight of him. Touching him and finally pleasuring him, was heightening your sensitivity. The ache in your core was painfully sweet and you couldn’t help but moan around his length, completely aware of how the vibrations affected him.

Urahara swore under his breath, unable to hold back the following thrusts of his hips as his orgasm bursts through his body. He felt as if broke through the cottony haze he had been under, only to sink right back in and further down once more. He could feel the way your tongue moved as he remained still inside, and the movement of your throat as you swallowed his cum with your eyes shut in bliss. What an obscene picture.

He felt your spiritual energy increase again. The little clarity he was able to gather after climaxing helped give his brain enough time to form full thoughts and assess the situation.

Watching you pull back, you detached yourself, cock slipping from your lips with a soft pop. You licked along your lips with a satisfied smile, like a cat who just got the cream. Which you kinda …did. The way you glowed intensified, and your aura had completely changed.

“You’re not human aren’t you?” He caught his breath, analysing his senses. It wasn’t a question that he needed an answer to.

“You’re not human too.” You simply answered back, climbing on top of him. His cock, half hard, slotting between your warm slit.

“You’re feeding off my reiatsu.”

“Something like that,” you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “I can’t exactly feed off just any kind of reiatsu.” You slowly rocked back and forth, Urahara feeling the wetness of your pussy coating him. His hands gripped yours, his eyes rolling back at the heat of your folds. God, he wanted to be inside you.

“Sexual reiatsu then?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, gasping when the tip of his cock caught at your entrance. You lifted your hips a little higher. “S-something like tha—.” You cut off with a moan as you sunk down a little, taking in the head of his length. He felt better than you could ever imagine.

Urahara felt that at this moment, he had more control than you did. Your fingers were squeezing him, your thighs were quivering with need and your face, your pretty face, was trying so hard to focus. You looked as if you were losing all resolve, completely crumbling apart with lust. He watched you intently, refusing to miss a single thing as you sank down on him, taking him into your tight, velvety heat that‘s got him aching hard again.

Bottomed out, your head fell forward. You took a couple of breaths as you allowed yourself time to adjust. It has been a while since you’ve laid with anyone, you almost hated yourself for tearing away the euphoric feeling of connecting your body to someone. Even so, with him, it was different. You didn’t just want to have him once and leave it at that. You wanted to have him. Completely. God, his reiatsu feeding yours was overwhelming. You could cry at how good he feels.

His voice pierced through the rapturous screaming of your body. He said your name so sweetly. That gentle and teasing coo of your name that had you weak in the knees.

“Look at me.”

Without a second thought, you did as he said. His larger hands squeezed yours in a reassuring manner and you felt as if your heart was going to burst at that action. You met his gaze, the once dwindling remnants of your energy almost fully replenished after months. Urahara was met with the pink pattern in your irises in full glow. Everything but you was a blur of colours. The effect your being had on him was akin to a drug that heightened every pleasurable sensation and kept you and him in a haze of warm lavender.

If his assumptions were correct, then he was one lucky and unfortunate bastard.

“Show me who you really are.” He untangled one hand to caress your cheek, the soft touch making you lean into his palm.

How could you not give him everything he wanted? His reiatsu was sweet, warm, and enveloping. It was delicious. You felt intoxicated by it and ever since your skin touched his, you knew you drew him into your web.

Urahara moaned when you rolled your hips, his cock hugged by your velvety walls, and he cussed when you took his thumb into your pretty little mouth. He blinked a couple of times, fighting the urge to rock into you as he wanted to see your true form. Your kind was rare, very rare. In fact, many shinigami believed your kind to be just a myth and a fantasy of depraved men.

The sun had begun to set and the golden hour illuminated your skin. Its rays glared at his eyes once more and when his eyes adjusted again, he caught the shape of two horns curling by the side of your head like a crown and stretched wide behind you were the most majestic set of wings, a shade of deep purple. Your eyes were shut as his thumb swiped your lower lip. Were you embarrassed?

“Didn’t I tell you to look at me?” He chuckled and you adorably blinked your eyes open, lashes fluttering. God, you were so cute. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

Gently with his strength, he switched your positions. Your back landed on the soft mattress of your bed, taking you by surprise that your wings had contracted into themselves. His hands held your hips as he hoisted them onto his thighs, lifting them up. You stared at him, eyes wide. His thumb spread apart your puffy lips, humming satisfactorily at how it glistened with slick.  When he returned his gaze to your face only to find it hidden behind your hands, he found it endearing that you were being shy especially since it was in your nature…

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing his length between your folds, collecting your slick before guiding his head to your entrance, merely kissing with the tip. You whined into your hands at the feeling, hips wriggling for more. “Talk to me, Y/N-channn.”

“I-I have never shown anyone…” you peaked through your fingers, his ash blonde hair prettily a mess over his eyes as he looked at you with such a gentle look, a contrast to your former lover from a hundred years ago whose face had contorted in horror in a rare blood moon. “…shown anyone at will…”

“You hide this cute form of yours?” He pushed the head of his cock in, turned on by the way your back arched at just him entering you.

He sighed out in bliss, sinking slowly, inch by inch feeling the warmth of your walls hug him. It was heavenly. God, he was never going to get enough of you. There’s so much he wanted to do to you. This was just the tip of the iceberg.

“K-kisuke,” you whimpered, not satisfied with him just remaining still inside you. You needed more.

"What's gotten you so submissive, hm?" He teased, taking his thumb and massaging your clit. The pressure made you moan. "You were the one who started all this." He drew his hip back a little to shallowly rock in and out of you. His own moan accompanied yours, your walls contracting needily around him.

He was right. You were the one who started this but now you were melting in his touch, helplessly needing his touch. You believed it was the strength of his reiatsu. It was stronger than any human you've played with to just get enough energy to keep your powers available to you. His sexual reiatsu, unlike humans, felt as if you had no way of depleting it, it was making your senses and your lustful need increase a thousandfold.

"P-please, I need you." You whimpered, your hands no longer hiding your face. They fell to your side as you gripped your sheets, the slow rocking of his hips, the slow sensation of his cock scraping your walls, was driving you insane. You wanted it in full force, not like this, this was torture. If it had been just another human, you would've maintained full control. He was different.

"You beg just as cute as I thought." He smiled at you, hands gripping your hips tight. "I still have questions." Though he was stalling from giving you what you want, enjoying the obscene sight of your body shivering and aching for pleasure, and your cute lewd face, he was using everything in him to not just fuck you senseless in your bed.

"I'll answer anything you ask after!" You cried out, the burning ache in your core too much. You needed the sweet burst of relief to wrack your body, you needed the vulgar rapture of fucking to ruin you. "Just, please, please, use me as you wish." You never begged any of your victims like this.

The sweet sound of your voice pleading him like that deepened his desire for you. He'll show you just how much he's been wanting you all this time.

He drew his hips back, almost leaving the velvet heat of your walls. You were about to whine, thinking he was going to tease you to no end but no. Like a man starved, like a dog in heat, he drove back into you, fully sheathing himself again, and regulated a rough and fast pace.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, that tingling and electrifying feeling you’ve deprived yourself of in the full flux of your energy for years, sent strong, crashing waves of pleasure throughout your body. It was euphoric. Each deep stroke had your toes curling and your eyes shutting in pure bliss. Every nerve receptor was on overdrive and made the right coiling feeling in your tummy contract further.

You didn’t care about the lewd moans that left your lips or the obscene sound of skin slapping on skin and the wet squelching of your pussy as Urahara pounded into you. That burning ache within you was being scratched and god, why did his cock feel so good. 

Urahara was relentless. He drew his hips back and drove them back in in a crazed frenzy, chasing his own high and addicted to the warm plush walls of your pussy squeezing him. His own groans and pleasurable moans melded with yours, the two of you a hot sticky mess of sex.

Even in the daze of carnal lust, he made sure to enjoy the pornographic sight of you on his bed, puffy pussy lips split apart by his cock and tits bouncing with each collision of his hips against yours. You were so out of it too. Your cute little tongue poked out just a bit between your lips and your eyes couldn’t even stay open, you were just spiraling in pure pleasure.

He brought one of your legs over his shoulder, angling himself in a way he could rut in you deeper. “K-Kisuke!” You screamed his name out so sweetly, his cock head kissing your g-spot repeatedly. You were just a mess of arousal. He could feel how wet you were by the way you coat his cock and even drip over his thighs and the bed. It was downright dirty. And it was all for him.

“F-fuck,” he swore to himself, thrusting endlessly, feeling a tightness in the base of his spine. He was dangerously close and it didn’t help that you were too. Your walls were hugging him tighter and you messily continued to get wetter, his cock scraping your walls over and over emitting sloppy wet sounds.

You could feel him get harder inside you and you bit your lip at how delicious that felt. He looked so pretty when he fucked you. His cheeks were pink and his skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Your release was growing nearer and nearer. Sweet refrains of his name continued to leave your lips, begging and pleading for more, and telling him how good he felt which encouraged him to fuck you harder.

His hand caressed your lower tummy, pressing his palm against where his cock was inside of you. The pressure made you keen, your fingers gripping the sheets now.

Urahara was completely focused on the beautiful creature you were, wanting nothing more than to make you his and be the only one to hear your sweet moans. To be the one who would make those cute lewd expressions form on your pretty face. The only one to see just how beautiful you are.

His thumb finds your throbbing pearl and massaged it in circular motions. You cried out in pleasure, the added stimulation making you tip over the edge. Your walls gripped his cock tight making it almost impossible to pull out as your body convulsed. Your lips were parted and your eyes were shut as pleasure shot through you like electricity. Your hips were shaking as you came all over him, your sweet honey spilling forth as he shallowly thrusts, his balls tightening.

“F-fuck, tell me where to cum, sweetheart.” He tried to control the quick rhythm of his hips that was moving desperately to empty himself into you.

Urahara searched for your face through the curtain of his blond hair over his eyes. Your hair was strewn over your face as you panted, hips shaking and soft breasts bouncing with his movement. He needed your answer and he hoped it was the one he wanted.

“I-inside.” You sighed dreamily, watching him through heavy lidded eyes. You moved your leg over his shoulder to join the other in wrapping around his waist, trapping him in place to uphold your answer.

The symbol in your irises was glowing pink. You held out your arms, inviting him into them and he leaned forward, crashing his lips into yours as he did. He kissed you deeply, driving his cock hard and fast, focused on the hot grip of your pussy around his throbbing and aching cock. Your arms were wrapped around him as you kissed him back, moving your lips in perfect tandem with his.

Your body was still electrified from your orgasm and the continuous sensation of his cock rocking in and out of you was sending you into overdrive. You wouldn’t be truly satisfied til you had his seed anywhere on you and even better inside of you.

With a couple more thrusts and giving it all in his final one, the tightness in the base of his spine, exploded. You moaned into his mouth as you felt heat shoot inside of your womb, it made your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Urahara kept himself hoisted up as he emptied his balls, groaning as he felt your walls milk his cock. How salacious your pussy was, he had thought. You were going to drive him crazy.  He remained still inside of you, relishing in the sweet victorious sensation of fulfilling one of his dirty fantasies.

He peppered kisses along your neck as your bodies remained pressed against one another. This wasn’t anything he’d experienced before. It was definitely out of this world. 

“You feel so good, Kisuke.” You hummed sweetly, petting his head as the two of you laid side by side now on your bed.

He rested his head on the pillow of your breasts, his arms draped over your abdomen as yours and his legs remained tangled with one another. The climax of both your highs lingered longer than expected and you two cuddled as you both recovered from the raw mindless fucking you two indulged in. 

“The things you do to me, woman.” He let out a sigh, though a little tired, his cock twitched to life wanting to bury itself inside you once more.

You giggled. “You can ask me anything you like. I did. promise you.” You lovingly pet him, your heart tied to this man.

“You’re no normal cutie neighbor that’s for sure,” he concluded, light-heartedly. He caressed your side. “How long have you starved yourself?”

You didn’t expect that…he almost sounded pained to have asked that.

“A while…”

“Myths say your kind needs semen to survive.” He couldn’t help but think of how he came inside of you as he said that.

“That myth is partially wrong.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “We don’t need it to survive. We feed off sexual reiatsu that is emitted when we engage in any kind of sexual activity with a man. The semen is the most potent form of a man’s sexual reiatsu.”

“Which means?” He was honestly curious. He adjusted his position so he could comfortably look at you as you spoke while still holding you close.

“To put it simply, to us, it’s like an energy shot. A very addicting, delicious, energy shot that our bodies happily respond to.” You explained, your cheeks warm. You couldn’t help but be flushed by him. He was gazing up at you as you spoke to him about the ways of your kind. It was unnatural and you expected a far more negative reaction, not this sweet adoration in his eyes.

“How come I’m not depleted of my reiatsu ?”

“B-because…I don’t want to.” Your voice trailed off, getting softer.

“How long have you abstained?”

“For quite sometime now. I didn’t want to continue feeding off humans…they will...have deteriorated if they kept relations with me.”

Urahara could hear the pain in your voice. You found your very being to be a curse. He assumed you had stopped because of your soft heart but that was dangerous of you to do to yourself.

Silence fell before the two of you, there was a far-off look in your eyes and he wondered about how lonely you must’ve been. You’ve probably never had the chance to really have a relationship with a human man. To be in love.

Oh, the thought made his heart ache. Luck for you, he wasn’t a human. He could fulfill all your needs if you asked him to.

“What happens if you keep continuing to…um…see… the same man? Besides deterioration.” He asked, breaking you away from your trance.

You knew what he insinuated.

“O-oh…well…I would form a bond with him but in the past, I'd always chose not to feed off the same man twice. So I never bonded with any of them. ”

“And how will you know if this bond has formed?”

He was asking very specific questions but you didn’t think much of it. Though you haven’t even formed a bond yet, you felt your heart was chained to him. You wanted him all to yourself.

“A very special mark would show up right here,” you took his hand and placed it a couple of centimetres below your navel, low and close to the apex of your mound.

Urahara followed your hand and stared at the smooth, unmarked skin.

“Kisuke…”

He’ll never get tired of you saying his name.

“Yes?” He looked at you once more. His pretty little goddess.

“What are you really? Your reiatsu is different from a human. It’s stronger and there’s so much of it.” You cupped his cheek. “You’re no ordinary shopkeeper.”

He didn’t feel the need to hide the truth from you. You had shown him your true form, which he didn’t understand why you were ashamed of. To him, it was cute and sexy. Every man’s sick fantasy.

The playful and aloof facade he always wore, faded. His eyes were serious now but still gazed at you gently. The tone of his voice was no longer in the usual happy melodious tune he took. “I was once a soul reaper, my dear.”

You blinked, surprised at the revelation that explained his reitasu being different from anyone you’ve ever met. You knew of shinigami , you see them in Karakura town both in their true form where other humans can’t see them, and in their gigai . You didn’t expect your handsome, cute but pervy, neighbour to be one.

“I see.” Was all you said, still holding the man in your arms who comfortably remained in your warm embrace, his own limbs draped over your own.

Your brows furrowed when you felt him slip away, sitting up beside you, his broad muscular back flexing as he did.

“Kisuke?” You sat up too, on your knees.

He glanced at the call of your name and shuddered at the cute sight before him. Naked skin glimmering, cute eyes staring at him, little cute horns curled on each side of your head and your wings relaxed behind you, had him enchanted by you once again. He was down bad. Very, very bad.

He sighed, turned to face you, and inched close. His surroundings were clear of that haze your energy created. The entirety of your room was clear and no longer blurry, yet this invisible glowing halo on you still remained.

“The sun has set.”

Was he leaving? Your heart cracked at the thought. You didn’t want to use your powers to keep him, you wanted him but you wanted him to want you for you of his own volition. “Y-yes it has.”

“We shouldn’t…” He looked down, his hair falling over his eyes.

You understood. A little ashamed, dejected even, you slowly brought the sheets up to your chest, covering yourself as you bit your trembling lip, waiting for words that would feel like a knife pierced your chest.

“We shouldn’t waste any time then.” Urahara nodded, as he came to a decision about whatever he thought.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

In a flash, you found yourself, torso down on the bed with a pillow underneath you to keep you comfy while his hands firmly gripped your hips, hoisting it up. You yelped at the sudden position, feeling the remnants of  Urahara’s seed unloaded into you that didn’t fit in your womb anymore, leaked out of your messy slicked hole.

“Oh wow, how messy.” He teased and then blinked. “You didn’t tell me you had this cute tail!” From the base of your spine and extended was a slender black serpentine tail.

His reiatsu was insane. One encounter with him replenished your powers and awakened your true form. No one ever had this effect on you. And he thought this form, horns, wings, and tail were cute?!

"Ah!" A ticklish shudder ran up and down your spine. The sound that left you was a mix between a moan and a yelp. "D-don't do that." You whimpered, legs shaking.

"Do what?" He played innocently, fingers trailing over where your tail connected to your spine. He was enjoying having you under his control. Then repeated what he did again, watching the way your thighs shook and your cute pink pussy pulse.

"Don't pull at it!" You whined, feeling embarrassed. You've never, ever, dared to be seen in your true form. You buried your face into the pillow and Urahara was screaming internally at how adorable you were.

"Awe, I'm sorry." He pouted, caressing gently the base of your spine. "Why are you hiding?"

"I-I'm just not used to being seen like this."

"But you're sooo cute, like this." He replied, pressing himself against you, slowly rubbing his hardening length between your folds making you mewl.

"Y-you want to..." you panted, losing yourself at the friction of his cock rubbing your clit. You wanted him again and more if he was able. You didn't want to tire him out. "...again?"

"I told you didn't I?" He popped the head of his cock into your pussy once more, slowly filling you up inch by inch. "We shouldn't waste any time." Urahara groaned, balls deep inside you once more with the gorgeous view of your back curved with your plush ass against him.

You squealed into the pillow, unashamedly pushing your hips further back to feel him deeper.

"By the end of the night, Y/N-chan," he huskily spoke, gently tugging at your tail. The action made you squeeze around him deliciously, arousal tickling your whole body. "We're gonna make sure I leave that mark."

  if you enjoyed my works and you’re feeling generous, you can tip me on ko-fi!

[tommyshelby87]

Robert and mister Rogers

Hey everyone, I wrote a short story about Robert meeting mister Rogers, which I think would be very wholesome and sweet :3 I would love to know what you all think!

Robert Fischer let out an annoyed sigh when the elevator stopped abruptly. He knew that it might take a while before the elevator would be on its way again, there have been problems with it for weeks now. He kept pressing buttons, hoping to jig it awake but it was no use. He growled in frustration and glanced at his watch.

“It might be a while, we should relax and take a breather,” an elderly man in a red cardigan and sneakers said in a soft voice.

Robert turned to face him, he hadn’t even registered that there had been someone in the elevator with him, busy as he was.

“Oh..eh…yes…I guess that’s true. But I have an important meeting to get to…” he stammered, checking his watch again.

The man smiled at him and shrugged. “Nothing we can do about it, I’m afraid.”

Robert huffed and started to pace around. “I’m not someone that gives up easily,” he said in an annoyed voice and got his phone out, cursing when he noticed that he had no reception.

Again he started to slam on the elevator buttons, getting more and more agitated. “Go damn it!”

The other man stepped closer and put a hand on Roberts shoulder. “Come on, step away from the buttons, over here,” he said softly but firmly as he led Robert to the other part of the elevator.

“I have things to do, I can’t just stand around and…and…do nothing!” Roberts said in an agitated manner, even though he did follow the other man into the other corner.

“ Son, you are working too hard. Take a breather. Think of something that makes you smile.”

Robert scoffs. “I don’t have time to smile.”

The man tilted his head, looking concerned. “You don’t have time to smile? But what could be more important than that?”

Robert stared at him in disbelief then snorted in derision. “You think my father build this company by smiling? That I can keep it running with a grin? Doesn’t work that way in the real world, I’m afraid.”

The man smiled at him. “Ah Robert Fischer. Nice to meet you. I’m Fred Rogers.” He held out his hand and Robert reluctantly shook it. “A pleasure to meet you, mister Rogers. I take it you don’t work here?”

The man chuckled. “Oh no, no, I’m just here to see someone, that’s all.”

“So you have no idea of the things that are on the line here, of the deals I have to make, the deadlines I need to follow..” Robert listed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You know what the most important thing in the world is to me right now, Robert” Mister Rogers asked him kindly.

Robert scoffed. “Do tell.”

“Talking to Robert Fischer,” the man answered.

For a few moments, Robert was taken aback. Something about the kindness of this man struck a chord with him. He didn’t want anything from him, he didn’t need anything from him.

He didn’t make Robert worry, he didn’t scold him for missing a meeting, he wanted to talk to him. Even more so, talking to him was the most important thing to him. Tears filled Robert’s eyes and he looked away with a sob.

“I’m sorry..I..” he muttered, embarrassed to the core. “It’s alright, Robert. You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?” Mister Rogers said as he put a hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“Very hard..it’s…it’s all I do. I have to make my father proud,” Robert rasped.

“I bet your father is very proud of you. Just for being you.”

Robert shook his head. “Then you don’t know my father. My mother died when I was eleven years old. ‘Robert, there's really nothing to be said.’ I was eleven,” he bitterly recalls.

Mister Rogers frowns and thinks it over.

“When we love a person, we accept him or her exactly as is: the lovely with the unlovely, the strong with the fearful, the true mixed in with the façade, and of course, the only way we can do it is by accepting ourselves that way. Maybe…maybe your father struggled with that. And that doesn’t make you feel any better of course but…but I think that your father loves you. To the best of his capabilities,” he finally says.

Mister Rogers smiles as he sees that Robert is struggling with a response.

"I'm proud of you for the times you came in second, or third, or fourth, but what you did was the best you had ever done."

Robert starts to cry. Mister Rogers holds him, stroking his back soothingly. “There, there, neighbour. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you,” Robert rasped and he meant it.

With all his heart.

[papipedroo]

Sunlight and Lemons

Sunlight and Lemons (Joel Miller x reader 🍋)

Rated: Fluff | Age Gap (Joel is 40 & reader is 23)

Summary: Your father’s Bill and Frank welcome two new guests and one catches your eyes.

The three of you were eating breakfast.

Bill’s famous bacon, eggs, and buttered toast… With extra bacon?

You could tell something was up with the way Frank was bouncing excitedly as he spoke and the way Bill’s lips curled even deeper into a frown.

“Something is going on and I would like to know what it is.” You finally said, eyeing the two men.

Frank cut is conversation about the ripe tomatoes quickly as he began to fidget with his silverwear.

“You set up it up so you tell her.” Bill motioned to Frank with an unamused tone.

“Well sweetie… I decided we’re going to make some friends so I invited guests over this afternoon for a celebratory garden party.” Frank’s eyes lit up the more he talked about what he has planned for today.

“We’re having… Guests?” You muttered confusingly.

They never invite guests. It was practically the number one rule in every given apocalypse… A rule the Bill broke twice and Frank once, but still. It was a real. Don’t let people in and you remain safe.

You looked between the two, not sure who to settle your gaze on until you finally settled on Frank. The one who easily spilt everything.

“Who exactly? Are they dangerous.” You asked.

“Oh no.” Frank waved off your worries immediately.

“That we know of.” Bill muttered.

Frank gave him a look before smiling at you, “The woman I have been speaking with is very kind and she’s bringing a friend of hers, a man.”

You nodded slowly still unsure of the whole ordeal, “I see.”

“We’ll be doing trades with them often.” Frank continued, “So after breakfast, get dressed and I will love some help preparing the table outside while Bill will be preparing lunch a little later.”

Bill’s eyebrows raised as he took a bite of bacon, “I am?”

“You are.” Frank assured.

And that was that.

The three of you were having a garden party with complete strangers. Should be fun…

What was Frank thinking? That was the only thought you had as you got ready.

You couldn’t even be upset with him at that moment. He was the one who found you hobbling to the fence after your terrifying escape from raiders… He was the one who yelled at you to stop… He was the one who opened the gate… Who patched me up… Bill was the one who gave you clothes… And made you food… Gave me what little medicine they had…

You remember that day clearly. You were 17 then and now 7 years later, here you were adopted by two of the most kindest people you knew. You couldn’t have asked for anything more in this world, apocalyptic or not.

You decided to slip on your best dress, a white summer dress with yellow daises embroidered on it. Frank and you had picked it out at the boutique the day after they told you that you could officially stay with them.

You also slid on your favorite worn out yellow sneakers. Even after a few years they were still good. Before you left your room, you hid a small knife that Bill gave you, under your dress. You knew that you couldn’t be too trusting as Bill would say. You left your room after that and headed downstairs to find the front door wide open and Frank dragging out a table.

“Frank!” You called out to him with a laugh, “You were supposed to wait for me.” You said as you quickly rushed outside to help him.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.” He scratched the back of his head, “It’s been a while since we’ve had guests.”

You gave him a soft smile at seeing him so nervous, “It’s okay Frank, just make sure you let me help you.”

Bill was already in the kitchen cooking lunch by the time the both of you headed back inside.

“It smells wonderful Bill!” Frank leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips before washing his hands.

Bill had a blush that only Frank could bring out as he muttered, “It’s nothing.”

“More than nothing, I’m starving.” You said reaching over to sneak a bite when suddenly Frank’s light tap on your hand had you pulling back.

“Don’t even think about it sweetie.” He scolded lightly before grabbing the lemonade pitcher out from the bottom cabinet, “They should be here soon. Can you be a dear and fetch me some lemons so we can make some lemonade for our guests?”

You nodded your head, “Sure.” You proceeded to grab a small basket on the counter, “But I expect to be having a feast when I get back.” You gave your stomach two pats to make your point clear.

This had both men chuckling. Bill shook his head while Frank shushed you out the door.

“Of course. Of course. Now go get some lemons.” Frank laughed.

You walked out towards the back where the garden was. It a short distance, but you took my time finding the lemon tree so to nerves.

What if they were mean? Or violent? Or they lied and now a group of raiders were going to show up and kill us?

Plenty of unwanted thoughts filtered through your mind, but one raised above all the others. Just please don’t let my dad’s get hurt.

You had finally made it to the tree when Frank pulled out the driveway.

They must be here. You thought before turning your focus back to the tree. There were only three lemons that you were able to reach, standing on your tippy toes.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You muttered to myself.

Most of them were higher up just begging to be ripped off of the branch. You huffed as you set the basket down and looked around for the small wooden bucket.

“Where did Frank… Ah there it is.” You smiled triumphantly.

It was tipped over on the ground, hidden behind the tree and blending in with the soil. You bent down to grab it and placed it face down on the ground. You were feeling proud of yourself as you stood up on top the bucket to reach a few more lemons.

All seemed to be going well until the last lemon you needed was just a little out of your reach. Instead of just moving the bucket though, you decided that you would just teeter on the edge and grab the last lemon that you needed… Until you did grab it, but ended up teetering on the edge.

“Whoa!” You cried out at the unsteady bucket.

You tried to balance yourself and almost succeeded until the bucket wobbled once again. At that you expected your fate and was ready to feel the hard ground beneath you when suddenly…

You didn’t fall… Not really. Gravity seemed to be on your side or at least two arms were as the held you.

You took a breath of relief looking up and expecting to see Bill.

“Thank-” Your gratitude was cut short as you stared wide eyed at a man you have never seen before.

Is he just my imagination or did a Prince really just sweep me off my feet…

“You’re welcome.” He stated gruffly as he gently set me on my feet.

“You…” Your voice trailed off as you stared up at him, his face calm as he waited for an answer.

My word was he some kind of handsome dressed in sunlight.

You cleared my throat and quickly straightened out your dress. You tried your best to calm your nerves and the growing blush on your cheeks, “You must be the guest Frank invited.”

“I must be.” He answered shortly.

I can see he has Bill’s wonderful conversation skills.

“Well.” You nodded as you shyly looked away, “Thank you…”

“Joel. Joel Miller.” He introduced himself.

“Thank you Joel for saving me.” You replied before introducing yourself as well.

“Beautiful name.” He complimented, a small smile appearing on his face as he watched your cheeks grow even redder.

“Thank… Thank you.” You couldn’t look away from his eyes.

It seemed as if his big brown eyes stared into your soul as his tan skin looked like honey against the sun.

He nodded his head, “Anytime darling.”

You picked up the basket of lemons, “These were for you anyways so I suppose you saved your drink as well.” You laughed lightly.

“Lemonade?” He implied as you began walking towards the house with him following in suit.

“Plum juice actually.” You stated seriously as you tried your best at a the poker face Bill has been trying to teach you.

However, the grimace on his face made you laugh, “I’m joking. It’s lemonade.” You said, easing his worry.

“Real funny sweetheart.” The curl of his lip didn’t make him seem cocky or bullheaded. He looked amused, a spark shining in his coffee eyes, “You need anymore help?” He asked as his gaze softened.

That look left you a blubbery mess, “Oh no. That was all thank you. I better go and find a glass-no a pitcher to put the lemons in. Of course not just lemons! But the lemonade you make from lemons? Yeah… Anyways! Yes! Um.. Yes.” You quickly took a few steps back before rushing inside.

You don’t think your flushed cheeks will ever return to normal again as you heard his honey silk chuckle at your reaction. You placed one of your hands over your chest to at least try and attempt to calm your racing heart.

Oh boy… Just what did I get myself into? But his eyes and how warm his hands were when he…

What was I doing? Right. Lemonade.