#i got into the things you like so i could be a part of you and now you are a part of me altered in the back of my mind though here you see

[starmocha]

I've got this doubt that I can't shake off: if MC's pregnancy, for some reason, is a very tough and risky one (both might die or something), which one of the guys would have the saddest breakdown at some point (just ugly crying into MC's arms after months of keeping it together for her sake) and which would have the angriest (trashing entire offices, taking their anger out on their enemies or both)?

(I had intended to respond earlier, but man…that trailer…) Gosh, you guys know how to prod at that special part of my brain with these asks lately… 🥺 I may or may not have...started writing...little...snippets, really... ����

Zayne would go into “doctor-mode.” He is going to utilize his medical knowledge and resources to give you the best care possible for both you and the baby, and while it seems you have nothing to worry about, you will feel the emotional-withdrawal from him as everything will feel so methodical and clinical and he forgets completely his role as a husband until you break down crying.

You had tried to keep your emotions in check these last few months, rationalizing that Zayne was never an expressive person, but his feelings and actions were always sincere. He was pacing across the bedroom reviewing with you about your recent prenatal checkup and what it meant for both you and this baby. It had been like this for several months now, and with your weak heart and the risk it posed for both you and the baby, Zayne had been extra attentive about your prenatal care.

As you sat on your bed, heavy with his child and close to your due date, listening to him rattle off different medical terms and speaking to you less as a wife but more as if you were his patient, you could feel your emotions peaking. You couldn’t remember the last time he was affectionate with you or actually asked how you were personally feeling throughout this whole pregnancy. He was by your side more, but you had never felt as lonesome as now, needing him back as your husband and not a doctor. You could feel the tears brimming, but it was getting harder each day to suppress your feelings.

Everything Zayne was saying sounded like muffled gibberish to you. You could barely focus on the present, barely acknowledging even the faint movements of the baby you were carrying, feeling more lost in your loneliness. You finally let your emotions and hormones collide and broke down crying in front of him, startling him immediately. Within seconds, he was on his knees before you, grasping your arms as he asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you hurting somewhere?”

It took you a minute to gather yourself before you felt calm enough to speak, finally revealing to him how you hated who he had become during this time. At first, Zayne looked shocked, not quite comprehending what you had just said to him, but the more he pondered your hurt words, the more he realized there was a lot of truth in what you had said.

He kissed your belly, surprising you. Then, he got up and sat down next to you on the bed, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed your forehead, his apologies immediate and sincere.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, holding you a little tighter, “I just…don’t want anything to happen to you. Either of you.”

You leaned into his embrace, and sighed softly, “I know…I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”

Zayne looked down, noticing how your words gradually stopped and you were withdrawing again. He lifted your chin, making you look at him as he coaxed you gently, “Just what?”

“I just miss you,” you said, voice breaking again and fresh tears brimmed your eyes. As he brushed your tears away, you cried harder, “And I’m scared…and I can’t stop thinking about all of the things that could go wrong…and then I realize stressing over this is also hurting the baby and…and…”

Zayne looked guilty as he realized that while he was too focused on your physical health, he had neglected your mental and emotional state, realizing how you had been suppressing your feelings for his sake.

He sat back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against him. He apologized again for his neglect, and for the rest of that night, he listened and comforted you through your anxieties. There was that familiar warmth in his embrace that you missed, and the softness in his eyes returned as he listened to you earnestly. While your anxieties were still there, they seemed more manageable now that you realized the man by your side in this moment was not Doctor Zayne but your Zaynie, your beloved husband.

Rafayel is angry and emotional and will lash out and say things he doesn’t mean, such as he would rather lose the baby than you.

It had been like walking on eggshells these past few months. You had tried to keep your spirits up in spite of the situation, but eventually everything that had been quieted was going to surface, reaching an ugly peak.

You just had never expected him to say such words to you.

“You…don’t want…the baby?” You felt like you were choking as you uttered those words back to Rafayel.

He looked conflicted, his face twisted in pain and frustration. “I…I didn’t mean it,” he finally said, seeming to struggling with not just his words, but also his feelings.

You glared at him with tears in your eyes. “You said it! What could you have possibly meant to say if not that!”

“I don’t want to lose you!” he finally yelled back, frustrated that his words were being used against him by you of all people.

A strained silence filled the space, creating a rift between the two of you as you stared at one another in shock. In the distant, there was the cries of seagulls flying outside the studio, the sound of waves crashing on the shore a peculiar reminder that time was still moving forward even as you two stood frozen, locked in this seemingly unbreakable tension.

After several beats, Rafayel dropped to his knees, his head buried into his hands as he apologized, though it seemed more like he was apologizing for hurting you and not because of what he had said.

You walked closer to him, surprised when his arms wrapped around your waist, and his face pressed against your rounded stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He didn’t look up at you, but his words were heard clear: “I just can’t lose you again.”

You stared down at his head of hair, unsure of what you could say in this moment. He looked so broken and helpless, and while you understood his sentiments, it still did nothing to alleviate the hurt you felt at his earlier words. Shakily, you let your hand rest on the back of his head, as you said softly, “My fishie…I won’t leave you…”

You said that to comfort him, but even you had doubts about whether you could hold true to your words. It was so bright and sunny outside in Linkon today, so why did your future look so gray and uncertain? This was to be a joyous time in both of your lives, but even as you both felt the baby kicked and moved, that cloud of doubt remained.

Xavier is stunned and feels helpless.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks. Xavier was quieter than usual, but he still answered you whenever you spoke. You didn’t think he was upset at you, but you also couldn’t ignore the sudden distance between the two of you.

“Captain Jenna had put me on desk duty for the remainder of my pregnancy,” you told him over dinner one night.

He didn’t answer you, appearing distracted as he was grilling some beef slices on an electric griddle.

“Xavier?”

“Huh?” He looked up, surprised. “Oh, sorry, I had something on my mind. What did you say?”

“I…I said Captain Jenna is putting me on desk duty,” you repeated hesitantly.

“That’s good,” he answered and picked a slice of beef off the griddle to place in your bowl. “You should have some more meat for protein.”

“…thank you,” you said, noticing the way his eyes kept averting with yours. You placed your bowl on the table, upset now. “Xavier, did I do something wrong?”

He looked taken aback by the sudden question. He immediately shook his head. “Wrong? Why would you even think that?”

You frowned. “You’ve barely spoken with me lately,” you said, “It’s been nothing but ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ ‘alright’ from you lately.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked at you with remorse etched on his face. He sighed as he turned the griddle off before he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I…I just have something on my mind.”

“You keep saying that,” you retorted, mildly irked now, “What could be on your mind that is more important than being here with me?”

“You.”

Your irritation disappeared in that moment, his solemn gaze resting on you. Slowly, you found your voice, your words stuttering a little in confusion, “Wha…what do…you mean?”

“You and the baby,” he clarified. “Ever since the doctor said this was a high-risk pregnancy, I just…can’t stop thinking about…everything that could go wrong.”

“Xavier…”

“I don’t know how to make this easier for you,” he continued, suddenly unable to hide his anxiety any longer, “And even if we do everything right, what if things go wrong at the last minute? What if—no, just…no…”

You gasped when he suddenly came to you, his arms wrapped around you immediately in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head and apologized again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Xavier…it will be alright,” you reassured him.

He was silent.

“We’ll both be alright,” you continued.

“Right…” he answered, but you noticed he still didn’t want to let you go. You also didn’t want him to part, so you both remained in this moment a while longer.

Sylus has all of the money and connections in the world. He is going to ensure that both you and the baby will be alright throughout the pregnancy until birth. On the surface, he seems calm and confident, but to keener eyes, such as yours, you will pick up on his anxiety through little tics or behavioral changes.

The moment you had told Sylus you were pregnant with his baby, he lavished you with even more luxuries than before. You received the best care possible, especially when it came to light that this pregnancy was not going to be easy for you and there was concern about the health of the baby. Sylus made sure the most qualified doctors were monitoring you and he had ordered the personal chefs to prepare only nutritional dishes for you and the baby.

He was adamant that you received only the best of the best, and to strangers, Sylus appeared to be so level-headed and grounded, not a trace of worry could be seen on his face.

You, however, noticed how he seemed to drum his fingers on hard surfaces more often. He would also pull out his coin to flip at the most peculiar time, and his visits to the boxing ring also seemed to have increased. There were so many odd tics that you couldn’t ignore, but you suspected you knew the reason why.

One evening, you slipped into bed earlier while Sylus was still sleeping. It would almost be time for him to wake up from his slumber, so you waited. When you noticed the fluttering of his eyes, you leaned in closer, smiling as your face was the first thing he saw once he awoken.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a mischievous smile, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Mm…morning,” he answered back in amusement, still a little groggy and bleary-eyed. He yawned. “What did I do to deserve seeing such a sweet sight first thing after waking up?”

“I wanted to talk.”

His mirth disappeared in that instance upon hearing your stern tone. He shifted in bed, sitting up with his back to the headboard. “Is something the matter?”

“You tell me.”

Sylus shook his head in confusion. “Sweetie, you are going to have to elaborate more,” he responded with a frown. “What are we talking about?”

“Are you…worried?”

“Worry?”

You rested a hand over your belly, his gaze instantly following your movement. “About the pregnancy,” you clarified.

“Of course I worry,” he answered back in that same even tone.

“You…seemed so assured, but lately, I’ve noticed these little…tics,” you explained, elaborating to him more in details as he listened patiently. When you finished, Sylus gently pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his. His arm wrapped around you, his hand resting on your belly to rub gentle little circles.

“I will always worry about you,” he said, “but panicking over things will not achieve anything, so I just redirected my worries elsewhere. Is that a problem?”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “No, I was just…wondering if you wanted to talk about them with me.”

He laughed and bent down to peck your lips. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to?”

He smiled in amusement and kissed you again. “Then who am I to argue with my pregnant wife?”

“What would you do?”

“Do what?”

“If…I don’t ma—”

“You will be fine,” he immediately cut you off, his demeanor shifting entirely. “You will both be fine.”

“But—”

He lay back down in bed, pulling you closer to him in a tighter embrace. “Lull me to sleep,” he said instead.

“But isn’t it time for you to wake—” You clammed up when he shot you a pointed look. You could sense his unease, feeling his fingers digging into your flesh a little more. He was upset, deeply troubled, and you hated how he carried that burden alone on his shoulders.

“Alright,” you answered, snuggling into his embrace. You sang a song, a lullaby you had learned recently that you hoped to sing to your baby in a few months. As you sang, Sylus quietly hummed along, and it wasn’t long before you both fell asleep together, your worries left behind as you dreamed of the upcoming months when a new bundle of joy would arrive at Onychinus’ base.

Caleb is nervous, but he pours himself into taking care of you, because that is all he has ever known. He’s never liked seeing you ill or hurt, so he is going to do everything possible to make sure you receive the best care ever. He will do a lot of research and ask as many questions as he could to gain insight on what can be done to minimize the risk so both you and the baby will make through the pregnancy as safely as possible. He does not even want to consider the possibility of losing you.

You didn’t have any autonomy over yourself anymore. Whatever you wanted to do, Caleb did it for you first. Whatever you were craving, he would negate it half the time, citing it was better for you to eat a healthier alternative.

Even though you wanted to be mad at him, you knew he was doing this out of worry after the reveal that there were some concerns about this pregnancy. The moment that you had heard the word “risky,” everything afterwards suddenly sounded muffled as you were frozen in shock, a sudden anxiety creeping in as you stared down at your belly. Meanwhile, Caleb was already proactive, asking what needed to be done, what you both needed to be aware of, and so on and so forth. As if he could sense your worries, his hands immediately rested on your shoulders as he stood behind you while he continued to converse with the doctor.

He was your pillar and your protector. He always was, and he always will be.

Even if sometimes you found him to be overbearing.

You had missed many of his more indulgent dishes ever since he had put you on a clean-diet, and each time, you made a point of letting him know just how upset you were as you sulked when he finished setting the table with steamed fish and green veggies with bamboo shoots.

“It’s only temporary,” he reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you picked at the fish half-heartedly.

“Most women get to enjoy their cravings while pregnant,” you said sullenly, taking a small bite of the fish.

He nodded in agreement as he sat down opposite of you. “If this was a normal pregnancy, then of course you should be able to indulge on your cravings—”

You looked at him hopefully.

“But your cholesterol level is higher than normal, and we also need to be cautious about the risk of developing gestational diabetes—”

You sulked again. “You are killing my appetite again.”

Caleb laughed softly as he set his chopsticks down. He cocked his head to the side, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he leaned forward on the table. “What are you craving, pipsqueak?”

“What does it matter? You won’t let me have anything…” You bit into your bamboo shoot, not making eye contact with him.

“Pretend I will,” he answered in the same tone.

You shrugged. “…Pasta.”

“Pasta? Okay,” he answered thoughtfully, “What else?”

“Hmm…pizza…cheesecake…dumplings…”

Caleb covered his mouth to suppress his laughter as he watched you list each food longingly, practically lost in your own world and not even paying attention to him anymore. When it seemed you had finished listing, he questioned you again, “That’s all?”

You sighed and shook your head.

“What else is there? You’ve practically listed all of the food available on takeout menus,” he teased.

“…Braised chicken wings…”

Caleb looked surprised. “What?”

“Your braised chicken wings,” you clarified and looked up to meet his surprised gaze.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll make some braised chicken wings tomorrow for dinner.”

You perked up. “R-really?” You eyed him suspiciously. “What about my clean diet?”

“In moderation would be fine,” he answered, smiling, “Besides, having the mother of my child miserable the whole time is also not good for the baby.”

You huffed at him, annoyed. “I’m miserable because of you.”

He blinked, not expecting you to suddenly be mad at him again. “I’m only—”

“I can’t enjoy the food I like, I’m tired all of the time, I can’t even see my feet anymore, my back hurts, my feet are swollen—how am I fat when I’m not even eating anything yummy?!”

“…are you having a mood swing?”

“Yes!” you cried out hysterically, nearly sobbing, “It’s your fault, too, I can’t control my hormones right now!”

Caleb laughed helplessly as he stood from his seat and crossed over to your side. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his waist, your face buried against his stomach as you continued to cry and list your grievances with him.

“Alright, alright, it is my fault I gotten you pregnant,” he agreed. He peered down at the top of your head, smiling when you sniffled against his shirt while he rubbed the back of your head soothingly.

“…dummy…”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dummy,” he continued in a very pacifying tone.

“…A big dummy…”

“Mmhmm…”

“The biggest…”

“Right, right…”

You looked up, suspicious again when he continued to be very agreeable. You yelped in surprise when he immediately grabbed your face and leaned down to steal your lips with his. It took you a few seconds to register that he was kissing you before you gave in, feeling a warmth in your chest at his sudden display of affections.

“What else?” he asked softly when he pulled back a few centimeters, still close enough that his breath brushed against your trembling lips while his eyes locked with yours. You could feel his thumb brushing away the tears that were still on your cheeks.

“…you…”

“Me?”

“Uh huh…”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just you…”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Alright, pipsqueak,” he said, “You have me. I am all yours. Forever.”

You guided his hand down to your pregnant belly, smiling when that same look of surprise crossed his face again when he felt the baby kicked. Your smile widened as you answered him, “You’re ours.”

He knelt down on one knee, his large hand still resting over your belly as he smiled back before his eyes drifted down to your stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sighing almost as if in disbelief by this current life he was living, “Both of yours. Forever.”

[kermdoeswriting]

Bruce Wayne's a Foster Parent. Also he avoids death a lot so a dead person can usually tell if a humans meant to have died but didn't.

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"Bruce you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but-"

Bruce just sighed from his side of the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nobody ever really expects to get a phone call nearing 3 am but exceptions had to be made when you were a legal foster parent and also a part-time secret super hero. If it wasn't one thing calling for him it was the other.

On the other side of the phone, Bruce heard the caseworker, Roni, chuckle.

"It's just for 3 nights and half of the day after, but I need you to be prepared for something before I can pass them off to you."

Bruce sat upright now on his bed, attentively listening to her words. Usually the kids didn't really come with any pre-warnings from the Caseworker themselves, letting anything about each Foster kid be said inside of their personal files that got sent along with them.

But when she gave out this information it was usually important. The last time Bruce had gotten a warning like this it was for Jason which was ages ago it feels at this point.

"What is it?"

"The kids are-" Her voice trailed off, like as if she was still searching for the right words to say. "They've been through what I can honestly only describe as the equivalent to a meta-kid trafficking lab"

Bruce shifted as he heard the driving continue on the other side of the phone.

"They're very guarded because of what they went through and they might display.. unusual behavior. More unusual then a meta-kids behavior after such a situation would be, but don't let it fool you! The kids are really sweet beyond being afraid."

Bruce frowns at the descriptions before replying to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the idea of these kids and what they might have went through.

"I'll make a note of it then. Thank you, Roni"

"No, thank you, Bruce. I really appreciate this last minute placement. We'll be by really soon"

He was left with a click as he removed himself off his bed and threw the covers to the side of him. Alfred would want to know that they would have 2 new guests in the manor, at the very least to greet them and have rooms prepared even if they didn't need to have them prepared further then what they already were.

It was less then 5 minutes later that Bruce found himself, with Alfred, greeting the temporary fosters at the front door. Roni looked tiredly at them as she pushed the kids front and center.

Bruce could relate heavily.

"Hello Danny, Ellie. It's nice to meet you both, I'm Bruce Wayne."

Danny just stared at the mans outstretched hand for a second before he turned to look up at him, a pinched look on his face. Ellie matched his expression, although being a bit more subtle about it as she looked over Bruce as a whole.

Eerily, Bruce felt like his very soul was being judge the longer the kids stared at him. He also felt a sense of familiarity with these two kids the longer this continued.

They seemed detached rather than afraid like their caseworker had explained earlier, more so viewing the world as if they were outside of it rather then in it in any way.

Danny was quick to glare at him after another moment, "You're a fruit-loop, aren't you?"

Ellie broke from her own scanning almost immediately when she heard Danny's comment, cackling beside him before shoving him off with her arm. The action made Bruce smile as he took his arm back and placed it by his side.

Alfred also looked amused between the pair of siblings before turning attention to the task at hand again. Bruce just smiled at his pseudo-fathers usual fondness over children, knowing he was being reminded of his own grandchildren.

"This is Alfred. He's going to be the one to show you over to your rooms for the next few nights." Alfred greeted the kids in the same polite way he usually greeted all guests before he leaned down and extended his hands towards their belongings. He didn't grab their belongings just remained leaning over them before questioning the kids if they would like help to take their stuff to their rooms.

Bruce only really saw it faintly and if it were any other moment he might have ignored it as a sleepless hallucination, but for some reason he noticed the change immediately. The twins eyes go from a darker blue to a flashing bright green.

As if alarmed by the sudden movement towards their belongings.

Danny was quick to catch his own staring as well, eyes flashing back to blue for only a second before reverting back to green. Almost as if to give off some kind of warning.

Ellie noticed his staring immediately and shoved Danny again, this time more forceful for his attention before turning to whisper something to him when she had him back.

Bruce felt his skin crawl before turning away to face their caseworker, not really understanding anything they were saying beyond hearing a few words and feeling their eyes look between each other and his back.

Death Touched was an especially new description, and one that stuck in his head the second he heard it.

Bruce waited until the kids were guided away by Alfred before talking to their caseworker officially and waking her up from her half delirious tired drop-off.

"Hey Roni? Is there any chance we can extend the Fenton kids stay?"

There was something going on here with these kids and he was going to get to the bottom of it. One way or another.

[leyavo]

Simon x Cat x Neighbour!reader

Part two > (previous part)

Simon Riley was a lot like his cat, dropping by your flat whenever he wanted. Thanking you for looking after Cat in small little ways.

Bringing you home little trinkets from his work travels. “Got it from some market, can’t tell you where though. Would have to kill ya and I really don’t want that.” Little things that line every inch of your windowsill, crystals he’s found because he knows you like them.

Thankfully it wasn’t a mouse, Simon hunting one down after Cat delivered one to you. And as you watched him pause, head angled to listen for the squeaks or little scurries. You couldn’t help but think he was a cat too. For a big guy, he was light on his feet and everything he did quiet.

“Dinner?” You asked, trying not to look at the mouse dangling between Simon’s finger and thumb by its tail. “Not a huge fan of rodent.”

He invites you into his flat for the first time, promising that it’s rodent free. “Woah your place is real big,” you say, opening your arms in the space as if you expected to touch wall to wall. Simon’s thinking of all the activities he could do with you, but decides dinners a good start.

Dinner turns into grabbing a morning coffee after a run and even going on evening runs, which angers him because before him you never would have done so alone. Sitting on the bench in the park to stretch or take a rest as you sip your water bottle, stickers decorating the outside.

When the pipe under your sink was dripping water for months, he fixed it and you didn’t find out till you went to check if the bucket was full of water again. No, no bucket under the sink. There was a small tool box in its place, stuff you had no idea what to do with.

Cat was drinking from the bucket under the sink, that’s how Simon discovered it. He’s even got a picture of it on his phone as well as a load of pictures you’d sent him with Cat. Sometimes he looks through them in his room back at the base. A few videos of your soft voice calling Cat.

So you sent him a picture of said toolbox and messaged him. “Did the fairies visit me?” He didn’t respond till the next day, “big bloody fairy.” promising to show you what they were for and sending you a video of basic plumbing if you wanted to learn yourself whilst you waited for his return.

Cue Simon teaching you how to fix the plumbing in your flat. The two of you squeezed into the little box of a bathroom as he listened to you explain about the low pressure of the shower and the tap on the sink you wanted to swap with something pretty.

The eroded shower hose snapping and spraying the both of you with water. Simon’s hoody drenched, sticking to every curve and dip of his muscles. Your back leant against the wall as his arm reached above you to turn the water off.

“I really wanna kiss ya,” he said, head inching closer to yours, gaze flitting to your lips. “Kiss me.”

You use his place for sex and make sure Cat is in your flat, “don’t want the kid to see,” is what Simon says.

Whenever Simon sees you’ve run out of anything, he’ll pick it up when he’s doing his weekly food shop. The coffee sachets refilled when you go to the kettle and when you ask, Simon shrugs “the fairies,” he says, sipping his cup of tea with the morning paper.

Even when you are officially dating you were still going between the two flats. Joking that cat had the studio and you could stay with Simon.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

mean!rafe slowly getting soft for reader but she realizes what sort of sick person he really is so she leaves him and now rafe is the desperate one (this would be really appreciated pretty!!!)

i loved, i loved, i loved you

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — talks of murder, stalking, manipulation

summary — after overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and his best friend, you begin to rethink your decisions.

authors note — can be read as a standalone but is apart of the mean!rafe series. part 1 is “i just wanna be one of your girls” and part 2 is “but i’ll do anything for you.” i’ll probably make a masterlist for this cause it’s probably going to end up turning into a series tbh so lmk if i should do that! please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“baby?” you heard him call out from the living room as the front door shut. he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack then followed the smell of food into the kitchen where you stood all pretty. you had a cute little pink sundress on, a white apron with a ribbon adorning the middle, and your hair was perfectly curled. “you look like a fucking dream.”

he walked over to where you were standing and pulled you into him with his big hands lightly squeezing at your hips. “thank you, rafe. i made your favorite,” you replied with a smile on your glossed lips as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “how was work?”

a sigh left his lips and his body tensed. “same thing as usual. nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he said with a kiss to your temple. “i missed you, angel.”

you frowned slightly and hugged him. “i missed you too, rafe.” you nuzzled into his chest deeper and he held you close, taking in the delightful scent of your shampoo. you pulled away a little sooner than he would’ve liked and pulled out his designated chair at the table. “why don’t you eat before the food gets cold?”

he nodded and sat down, laying the napkin over his lap and unraveling one pack of utensils you spent your afternoon packaging up to look professional. you sat across from him in your own seat and waited for him to take his first bite before beginning to eat your own.

he wrapped up some of the noodles on his fork and placed it carefully into his mouth while you sucked in a breath and waited for his validation. “it’s amazing, sweetheart,” he praised while getting more onto his fork. “you always prepare the best, you know that.”

you smiled to yourself and glanced down at your own plate, a red blush spreading across your cheeks. you began to eat as you two sat in a comfortable silence and enjoyed the pasta.

once he finished and was getting ready to get up and place his dish in the sink, you stood and beat him to it. “i’ve got it,” you said softly. you knew how long and draining his work days were and you’d do anything to make the rest of his day better.

“thank you, angel,” he replied gratefully while standing and brushing past you with a loving squeeze to your hip. “i’ve gotta finish up some stuff on my laptop. i’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

you nodded and began to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. once you were all finished, you neatly folded your apron and placed it in the closet in the living room before heading up the stairs and to the office to see if he needed anything. before you could even knock, you heard a loud bang, which you assumed was his fist against his desk.

“goddamnit barry! i fuckin’ told you that i had it handled,” he spat into his phone. “i took care of him, alright? they got rid of the body, the evidence, all of it and now you’re over here screwing it up.”

the body? you placed a hand over your mouth to cover the sob threatening to slip past your lips. you pressed your ear closer to the door and waited for him to speak again.

you heard him curse under his breath and laugh angrily. “it was all going to plan and then—“ he paused. “get rid of him. do whatever you have to do, just fuckin’ get rid of him. i’ll do it myself if i have to.”

a tear hit your hand and you quickly backed away from the door and quietly walked into your shared bedroom. you immediately began throwing clothes into a bag until you heard the office door open. you shoved it under your bed and sat at the edge of it.

he came in and immediately made his way over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands in his. “hey. what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

you just shook your head and faked a sad smile. “i jus’ miss you, rafe,” you lied as convincingly as you could.

he sighed. “i know, baby. and i’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. “look. i gotta go handle something really quick but we can spend the whole night together the moment i get back, ok? i promise.”

a shaky breath left your lips as you nodded and allowed him to kiss you then your forehead as he stood and made his way out towards the front door. the moment you heard it shut, you packed everything you could and sprinted out towards your car. you didn’t know how much time you had until he got back.

you were quick to disable your location on everything and turn on do not disturb before speeding off towards your parents house an hour away. you hoped it would be far enough and undisclosed so he’d never find you.

and only 30 minutes into the drive, you had 72 missed calls and 101 texts from rafe.

[p0orbaby]

Like can we pls pls pls pls pls get a smut where Reader sees alexias new photos for nike (though she had shown to reader some they did had the edit the impact you know) reader getting all hot and bothered and jumps on alexia qhen she gets home like do it everything with me

it’s not smut because i’ve got to save some material for bitter sweet

shameless plug

-

The day is, for the most part, unremarkable.

You wake up at 07:26, which is two minutes before your alarm, which is irritating because you could have had those two minutes. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, assessing your bodily functions—slight stiffness in your neck from the way you slept, residual warmth from the duvet, a faint need to pee but not urgent enough to act on. Alexia is still asleep next to you, her breathing slow and deep. There’s a dent in the pillow from where she’s been lying, a strand of hair curling across her cheek. You could stay here, watch her, but then your alarm does go off, and reality intrudes.

You shower, make coffee, scroll absentmindedly through your phone, thumb moving in automatic, practised motions. You see the photos at exactly 08:02.

And that’s when everything changes.

At first, your brain doesn’t fully register what you’re looking at. There’s a moment of lag, like a buffering screen, a stutter in your synapses. Then the full weight of it hits, and it’s like being smacked in the face with a sledgehammer. A very attractive, well-lit sledgehammer.

It’s Alexia. Obviously, it’s Alexia. But it’s Nike Alexia.

Sweaty. Flexing. Half-naked.

Her abs look like they’ve been sculpted by the gods. Her arms—veins subtly pronounced, muscles taut, defined—are a work of art. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her skin, catching the light in a way that feels almost… obscene. Her gaze is focused, intense, fixed down the lense, like she’s contemplating the meaning of life but also potentially about to fight someone.

You stare. Then you blink. Then you stare again.

Something warm pools low in your stomach, and your grip on your phone tightens. You have seen Alexia naked. Repeatedly. You live together. You have firsthand knowledge—intimate, detailed knowledge—of every inch of her body. And yet, somehow, these photos manage to feel like a personal attack.

Your first thought is: How dare she?

Your second thought is: I need to sit down.

Which you do, heavily, onto one of the kitchen stools. Your coffee is abandoned, cooling rapidly. The world outside continues as normal—birds chirping, distant traffic noise, the faint hum of the fridge—but your internal landscape has been irrevocably altered.

You should say something. React. But words fail you, so instead, you just keep staring, swiping through the photos in what can only be described as a state of near-religious awe. You don’t even realise you’re making a noise—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—until you hear movement behind you.

Then, her voice, still thick with sleep.

“What are you looking at?”

Your soul leaves your body.

You exit out of the app too quickly, fumbling with your phone like a guilty teenager caught watching something they shouldn’t be. Which is ridiculous. You are an adult. You are in a committed relationship with this woman. There is no reason for you to be acting like this.

And yet.

“Nothing,” you say, entirely unconvincing.

Alexia pads barefoot into the kitchen, wearing one of your T-shirts, her hair slightly messy. She yawns, stretching, and your eyes immediately zero in on the movement, the flex of muscle beneath skin. It is unfair that she looks this good first thing in the morning. Unethical, even.

She squints at you, then at your phone. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve seen God.”

You take a slow, steadying breath.

“Not God,” you say. “Just Nike’s new campaign.”

She blinks. Then, the smirk starts, slow and knowing. “Ah.”

“Don’t ah me,” you say, pointing accusingly. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” She moves to the fridge, retrieving the orange juice. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You posed.”

She laughs, pouring herself a glass. “I did.”

“You flexed.”

“I did.”

“You—” You gesture vaguely, helplessly. “You glistened.”

She tilts her head, amused. “That’s usually what happens when you’re sweating.”

“I don’t sweat like that,” you say, almost mournful. “I sweat like a normal person. You sweat like—like—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Like a Nike advert.”

Alexia sips her juice, looking infuriatingly pleased with herself. “That’s convenient.”

You exhale sharply, dropping your head onto the counter. “I need help.”

“Probably.”

Silence stretches. You can feel her eyes on you, can hear the faint clink of her glass as she sets it down. Then, her voice, softer now, but with an unmistakable thread of amusement.

“Do you want me to sign one for you?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

She gestures toward your phone. “A print. I can sign it for you. Make it personal.”

You gape at her, scandalised. “Do I look like the kind of person who would have a signed picture of their girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You have my old Barça jersey framed.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s—” You flounder. “It’s memorabilia. Historic.”

She raises an eyebrow. “So these pictures aren’t historic?”

“Not unless I drop dead from looking at them,” you mutter.

Alexia grins. “Want me to flex for you right now?”

You make a noise that is neither dignified nor human.

Alexia laughs. It’s light, teasing, but there’s something else behind it, something knowing. She closes the small distance between you, leans in, voice low.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” you lie.

Her hand brushes your arm, slow, deliberate. “You are.”

You swallow. Your mouth is dry. Your heart rate is—scientifically speaking—fucked.

This is fine. This is manageable.

Then, she actually flexes.

And you black out.

Metaphorically.

Mostly.

[burrowdarling]

My MVP II (18+)

Summary: What happens after the NFL Honors, especially after your ride back to the hotel. Read part one here!

Pairings: boyfriend! Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), light spanking, elevators, Joe praise, sex (p in v), MDNI

Note: Heyo! Here's part two: The Hotel Room from My MVP, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all so much for the love on the first one, which has over 600 notes in 3 days (like what?!?) Happy Superbowl Sunday, wish we had our boys playing, but smut always help with that right?

Word Count: 2.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You tried your best to keep pace with Joe’s long legs as you trailed behind him, fingers knotted through his. He Handed his keys off to the valet, his face expressionless as he did so. You felt your cheeks flush at the knowledge of what you had just done, knowing some stranger was about to get into the same car. Trying to keep your face down, you mumbled a thank you to the man as you passed him by. The walk wasn’t long, but your short legs were no match for Joe's long strides. 

“Joey, can we slow down? It’s hard to walk in these damn things,” you pleaded, wishing you had taken them off and reaped the consequences later. 

He wordlessly obeyed your request, slowing his pace slightly so you could catch up. Joe took the opportunity to release your hand, slipping his own protectively around your waist to keep you close. You walked through the sliding doors of the hotel lobby, Joe making a beeline for the elevators. The wait was short, glad to have gotten an elevator all to yourselves. Joe pressed the ‘close doors’ button as fast as he could, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, trying to spin to face him. You were feigning for his touch, still riding the high from your first orgasm. It was nothing compared to what Joe could give you, him knowing your body better than you did.

Joe pulled you tightly into his front, the feel of his cock straining against his dress pants making your breath hitch in your throat. The thought that this could stop on any floor, anyone could walk in had your pulse thrumming. Joe leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” Joe asked as more of a rhetorical question, “how badly I wanted to rip this dress off of you before we even got out of the car at the venue?”

He slipped the back of your dress up, keeping your front covered. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden breeze on your backside, feeling more exposed than you were in the car. You were shocked, unsure of what to do with this new side of Joe. He was always so reserved when it came to you, but tonight was like he had flipped a switch of his own.

“I’m regretting letting you put your excuse for fucking panties back on right now,” he groaned, giving your ass a smack and a squeeze. Joe took the chance to grind himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips at the feel of him, desperate to have him against your bare skin

You made it out of the elevator unscathed, in a desperate pursuit to find your room. You fumbled with the keycard, unsure as to why Joe entrusted you with the job considering his composure was much better than yours. He waited patiently though, large hands on your shoulders while you went through your bag to find it, slipping it out of your purse and only dropping it to the floor once before you both made it in the confines of your room. 

The moment you passed the threshold, Joe was on you. You had only taken a few steps in as your back was against the door as it closed. Joe’s mouth was everywhere on your skin, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He walked you backwards to the center of the room, mouth never leaving yours. When he was satisfied with your placement, he left one final kiss to your lips before parting from you. You groaned at the loss of contact, confusion over your features when he took a seat in the armchair. 

“I want you to strip for me, sweetheart,” Joe growled out, eyes heavy with desire. His eyes were so blown with lust, you’d give him anything he asked of you. 

You walked towards him silently as you spun around, needing help unzipping your dress. You felt his large warm hands move up your back before settling on the top of your back. Joe gave you a short stroke of his thumb as a way of saying he was there, using his other hand to move the zipper down to the base of your spine. You walked back towards the middle of the room, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you turned back to face your man.

You hesitated for a brief second, processing his request fully under his domineering gaze before he gently nodded towards you as a sign to go ahead. He dropped you a wink before giving you a small smile, reminding you that your Joey was still here, even if he was putting on this persona tonight. You wanted to please him, give him the proper celebration he deserved. 

You pulled your hair to one side, exposing your shoulder and the skimpy strap of your dress. You locked eyes with him, taking your hair and moving the strap to slip down your arm. His eyes never left yours, licking his lips as he was unable to settle into the chair fully. You could tell he was ready to jump your bones, holding himself back to preserve this moment for as long as possible. You moved to drop the strap from your other shoulder and watched as the fabric pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of it as Joe moved from his stop on the chair. He had you in his arms, tossing you like you weighed absolutely nothing back against the pillows on the bed. You erupted in laughter, feeling heat pool in your stomach at his sheer size and strength.

You were laid back on the bed, knees bent and your heels sticking into the duvet. You watched Joe as he started to rid himself of his clothes. You admired him, feeling a strong pull of lust and love for the man before you. A well of pride sat heavy on your chest that you were able to shower him with the love and affection he deserved, to treat him like the MVP you believed he was to you. You watched as he reached around his neck, getting ready to slip the chains off for the night.

“Keep them on,” you spoke softer than you meant to, breathless at the sight of him, “you never wear jewelry, I wanna enjoy it.”

Joe nodded at your request, beginning to remove his jacket while leaving the chains around his neck. His skin was taught, his muscled chest finally being within your reach after he wore that suit all night. You got up from your place on the bed, moving on your knees to meet Joe where he was standing. He took the last of his clothing off, tossing it to the side before turning towards you. You took your opportunity, slipping a delicate hand up his chest and settling on one of his chains, giving a soft pull towards you. Joe groaned at the feeling of the taught jewelry at the nape of his neck, nipping at your lips in praise. His hands settled on your ass, gripping your cheeks in both hands before giving them a tender squeeze. You gasped at the sudden touch, Joe capitalized on the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth. Moving one hand to the middle of your back to support your body. 

It was raw and full of passion, unfiltered and encompassing the pent up emotions of the day.  Your hands were lost in his hair, gripped whatever you could to keep your head from spinning. Joe laid you back on the mattress, getting to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Much like he did earlier, he took the time to take off each one of your heels

“As sexy as these are, I wanna be able to move you around freely and not risk taking a heel to the face,” Joe joked lightly, slipping off your heel as he kissed up your calf. You nodded in agreement knowing you weren’t the most coordinated person. Even in intense moments like this, he always knew how to keep you comfortable. He repeated the same on your other leg, taking the time to move slowly up your body. Joe didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched by his lips as he settled at the apex of your thighs. 

“God you’re fucking dripping for me, sweet girl. How do you want me first?” Joe asked as he toyed with you, stroking the area just above your pubic bone causing you to stir.

“What do you mean first?” you question him, you did already finish once tonight. Your mind went blank at the possibility of just how much he wanted to wear you out tonight.

“You heard me, I plan on getting you to cum multiple times tonight. How many times do you think I can make you finish him? Once, twice, maybe three times if I’m lucky” Joe said with such confidence in his voice that your body trembled with excitement. 

“Though I think we both know I don’t need luck for that. I know just what makes you tick, exactly what my girl likes” Joe said as he brought his hand down between your legs, swiping a finger through your slit before moving up to circle your clit with his thumb.

The simplicity of the touch already had your back arching off the bed, having been craving to have his hands on you for hours. He took his free hand and brought two fingers up to your lips, tapping them to get you to open. He slipped them inside, thoroughly wetting them like you did earlier. Your eyes stayed locked on his gaze as he slipped them past your lips with a pop. You could tell he was imagining his cock in your mouth, drawing a lazy smile to your lips as the later probability. 

He brought the wet digits down to your core, slipping them inside of you as he pumped them in and out slowly to start. You were already beginning to lose it, your  body wound so tightly, it wouldn’t take much to get you there. He increased his pace as he changed the angle of his fingers, moving them in the ‘come here’ motion as he kept hitting that certain spot inside of you. In perfect rhythm, you were on fire from his touch as you were seconds from losing it, his movements unrelenting. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles going white at the sheer pleasure he was causing your body. You felt electric, a simple spark could send you reeling. You tossed your head from side to side against the pillow, eyes clenched shut from the pleasure coursing through you. You were so close to the edge, fighting to get to the point of that sweet release.

“I'm so close, Joey. I wanna cum for you like a good girl,” you moaned, stirring something inside of Joe at your words. It was as if he took your words as his own motivation to get you there, feeling how close you were.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers baby,” Joe praised as your high ripped through your body, feeling a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Number two will be with my mouth, I gotta get a taste of you.”

Before your mind could uncloud from the high, Joe’s tongue was already slipping inside of you lapping at whatever he could get. Your hands settled into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as you possibly could. You were a moaning mess, earning a groan from Joe in response that only made things feel more intense from the vibrations. It didn’t take long for you to finish on his face, grinding down to ride out your high that came so fast out of left field. This one feeling more intense than the first, the realization dawning on you that you had just squirted all over Joe. A small pit formed in your stomach that he would be upset somehow, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him between your legs.

His gaze met yours, telling you everything you needed to know. His pupils were blown so wide with lust. A look that said ‘don’t you dare feel bad for that’ while he made no move to part from you. He tenderly licked as your breathing even out, lapping at your juices like he was deprived. He moved to make his way up your body, flipping you around and lifting your hips so you were on your knees. He climbed on the bed to settle behind you, leaning down to bring his mouth by your ear. 

“You have no idea how hot that was, watching you do that. I can’t wait for number three to be around my cock, I already know your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Joe growled out as he brought his mouth down to you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hadn’t spoken much, mumbling back an incoherent string of sounds that were meant to come out as words. Joe laughed behind you, pulling you up from your hands to rest back against him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking the time to breath before he would wreck you with his unrelenting thrusts. He gave your temple a kiss, gripping your breasts and toying with your nipples. He already had that knot in your stomach forming again, the pressure building in your center with an ache to have him inside of you.

“Need you inside me, Joe,” you whined against him, reaching your hands around to get any part of him in your grasp. 

“I can’t deny my baby what she wants, good to hear your voice still works for now,” Joe said as he moved you back to your hands and knees. You arched your back and wiggled your hips, ready to have him inside you. You pushed back against him, feeling his hands on your hips to stop your movements. A low whine slipped past your lips, ready to beg for his cock to be inside you already when he slipped in without warning.

You moaned loudly at the fullness of having him inside you, dropping your head in relief at the contact. Joe’s grip on your hips was firm as if he was taking out all of his pent up tension and the nerves from the night out on your body. You weren’t complaining, relishing in the thrusts and feel of his body coming into contact with yours after each one.

He pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your back before quickly finding his way back inside of you. He dropped to his forearms above you, caging you into his body as you locked eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, i wanna see your face when I make you come undone on my cock,” Joe said as he deepened his thrust more than you thought was possible.

Your hands were clawing at his back, trying to ground yourself into the moment, every delicious stroke making you lose more and more of your sense of control. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, your release on the edge of tipping. It was as if Joe knew exactly where you were, dropping one of his hands between you and rolled your clit with his thumb and forefinger, the touch acting like a catalyst to your orgasm. You were a mess below him, arching up into his body as your nail raked down his toned back. 

Your release brought Joe to his own, painting your walls with his own cum shortly after you. He slowed his strokes, the both of you feeling sensitive to the slightest touch after your highs. You both laid there and caught your breath.You brough one of your hands to cup his cheek, Joe leaving into the gentle touch in the aftermath of everything.

“Congratulations, Joey. That was way better than any afterparty’” you said, giving him a peck to the nose as you giggled. Joe’s hand found their way to the sides of your face, still propped up on his forearms.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Joe said as he picked you up in his arms to bring you into the bathroom. Your body felt tired, but your desire was still high.

“Round two in the shower?” you questioned, wiggling your eyebrows at him making him let out a laugh and you to pout, “I didn't get to reward you properly. Someone was too caught up in my pussy to let me.”

“Let’s get in there first and go from there you minx, a man needs a moment to recover.”

[whentheycry-problems]

Canonically, Keiichi Maebara's only objection to getting forcefemmed is that it would tarnish his reputation.

He dissociates and overperforms a caricature of masculinity. He is hyperaware of the misogynistic treatment women face, and sometimes wonders how he would deal with misogyny. He also narrowly avoids facing actual transphobia for crossdressing in front of a bunch of misogynist assholes.

Keiichi doesn't really have any close male friends and is mostly comfortable around girls*. At one point he gets annoyed that his friends share some nebulous bond that he doesn't, and wishes he could share that bond too. They're literally his closest friends. There's no deeper bond that he's missing out on other than... also being a girl.

There is a scene where he confronts a another guy, Kameda, about his "secret embarassingly feminine hobby". the whole thing takes place in a bathroom and is framed like he's clocking a trans woman. he literally threatens to out the guy, but eventually confides "don't worry, I too struggle with having embarassingly feminine interests". The "embarassingly feminine hobby" that they share is "eating delicious pastries". This story has a whole bunch of symbolism about eating pastries being a symbol for having weird thoughts about women, but is pretty clear that Keiichi and Kameda are having different thoughts about women than the horny straight guys are having.

When Keiichi gets into a card game tournament with a penalty forcefem game for the loser, his tactic for success is literally to "think like a girl". Keiichi is extremely interested in women's clothing and repeatedly claims to be a pervert despite, frankly, seeming totally uninterested in sex. He has a bunch of opinions about cosplay that basically boil down to "Women's clothing is so cool but can we please not talk about the body of the person wearing them. If someone wore women's clothing, I bet they'd feel really happy about it. Wearing women's clothing would be the best thing ever. For someone else. I swear I these are heterosexual feelings." Kameda, the other guy with "embarassingly feminine interests" feels almost the exact same way. If you read between the lines, Keiichi is absolutely one of those eggs who swears they just have a thing for crossdressing.

*Keiichi's best friend Mion would almost certainly be a trans guy if she knew that was an option. She is consistently extremely uncomfortable with performing femininity. She always tries to take an authoritative masculine role. Mion has straight up said, completely unprompted "I wonder what it'd be like to be born as a man" and has gotten THIS close to breaking down in tears and sobbing about how she wishes she could start life over as a guy. Also, she constantly calls herself an old man and carries a phallic symbol everywhere. The only part of femininity she seems to enjoy is the thought of dating Keiichi. And the closest they ever got to that actually happening, she put him in a maid outfit and paraded him around as her trophy wife. She seems to be obsessed with forcefem as a coping method for dysphoria, something like "at least I won't be the only one forced to act like a girl"

Higurashi: When They Cry is about a bunch of idiots trying to figure out their identities. And then the killings start.

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[be4chywritez]

shot to the heart (and the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

You come home from college and Luke is smitten...maybe a little too smitten

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

part two!

Growing up next door to the Hughes family meant one thing—hockey was a religion.

It was loud, it was competitive, and it was everywhere. If the Hughes brothers weren’t on the ice, they were playing in the driveway, tracking in mud from the lake, or tossing pucks against the garage door until Ellen threatened to take their sticks away.

And you?

You were the neighbor kid. Not quite in the mix, but not completely out of it either.

Your families were close—vacations together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas parties in the winter. You and the Hughes boys had spent years at each other’s birthday parties, running through sprinklers, roasting marshmallows, and competing over who could eat the most popsicles before Jim made you all go inside.

But if hockey was the Hughes brothers’ thing, quiet was yours.

Luke, in particular, had always been the opposite of quiet. He was the one making up rules for backyard games, the one yelling over everyone else, the one who would get so frustrated when you’d rather sit and watch than dive into the chaos.

He never bullied you for it, not in the way other kids might have, but he pushed—nudging you toward the action, insisting you could keep up, making sure you weren’t left out.

Jack and Quinn weren’t much different. Jack, the natural show-off, would always try to impress you (even if you weren’t watching), and Quinn, forever the responsible older brother, would make sure you didn’t get completely trampled by their energy.

Then, of course, you all grew up.

You spent high school buried in books and extracurriculars, aiming for an Ivy League acceptance letter. Luke spent it on the ice, chasing the NHL dream.

By senior year, your friendship had faded into nothing more than polite nods and see you at Christmas waves across the room.

And then you left for college.

Luke got drafted.

Life moved on.

Coming home after months at school was weird.

The air smelled the same, the roads felt the same, but you didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was the time away, or maybe it was the fact that being home again made you realize just how much things had changed.

The car rumbled up your street, your mom chatting about how good it is to have you back while you stared out the window.

And across the driveway, in the Hughes' kitchen, three heads turned in unison.

Jack was the first to react. He dropped his sandwich. Fully dropped it. “Holy shit.”

Quinn, still chewing, furrowed his brows. “What?”

Luke didn’t say anything, just stared.

Because there you were, climbing out of the car—same face, same features, but different.

College had done something to you. Or maybe you’d just grown into yourself.

Jack nudged Luke’s arm, grinning. “Dude. You seeing this?”

Luke was seeing it. That was the problem.

You were tan, your hair was different, your shorts were short, and fuck, had your legs always looked like that?

“Oh my god,” Quinn muttered, leaning against the counter. “Luke, close your mouth.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, scowling. “Shut up.”

Jack just smirked. “Bet she still won’t talk to you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

A few days later, you were walking up your driveway when you spotted Luke in his front yard.

He had his shirt on this time (unfortunately so) wearing a Team USA tee with the sleeves cut off, and ripping shots into the net with a ridiculous amount of force.

You should’ve known better.

Really, you should have known better.

Because one second, he was shooting.

And the next—

Crack.

Right to the face.

“Holy shit!”

Luke dropped his stick so fast it clattered against the pavement. In seconds, he was in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t see you,” he rambled, eyes darting between your nose and your expression. “Are you—holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your face. “Luke. What the fuck.”

“I swear I didn’t see you—”

“No shit.”

Luke winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.” He ripped his shirt off in one smooth motion, bunching it up before carefully pressing it against your nose. “Here, hold this.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Sacrificed my shirt for you? Yeah.”

“Oh, so chivalrous.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, tilting your chin up slightly to examine the damage. His hands were warm, calloused from years of hockey, and being this close to him was… distracting.

His eyes flickered over your face, studying you.

“You look… different,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “So do you.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah?”

And that was when you realized—he was still holding your chin.

And smiling at you.

And looking so unfairly good doing it.

You exhaled sharply. “Quit smiling at me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I feel weird.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

His grin widened, slow and lazy. “Huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said easily. “Just thinking I should smile at you more often.”

You groaned, shoving his chest. “Oh my god.”

Luke just laughed, but then his expression sobered. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Mom’ll kill me if I leave you out here bleeding.”

Before Luke could even pull you up, the door to the Hughes house slammed open.

Jack and Quinn came speed-walking—borderline running—toward you, eyes bouncing between Luke, you, and the blood dripping down your face.

Jack, of course, spoke first.

“Oh my god, did Luke hit you?”

You groaned, still pressing Luke’s (formerly white) Team USA shirt to your nose. “You say that like he didn’t just slapshot a puck into my face.”

Quinn sighed, looking so unimpressed. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke, still crouched next to you, lifted his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t see her! I was just—”

Jack cackled, pointing at Luke like he’d just won the lottery. “You obliterated her!”

“Jack,” you deadpanned. “Not helping.”

Jack waved you off. “No, no, because this is insane. You come back from college looking totally different, and the second Luke sees you, he shoots his shot—literally.”

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jack, I swear to—”

Jack ignored him. “I mean, I knew he was gonna lose it when he saw you again, but this—this is next level.”

Luke shoved him. “Can you shut up?”

Quinn, ever the responsible older brother, rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s get her inside before she passes out in our driveway.”

Jack smirked. “Or before Luke confesses his love again.”

Luke shoved him harder.

You just sighed.

The moment you stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the Hughes home hit you—laundry detergent, whatever Quinn had been cooking earlier, and a faint trace of hockey gear.

And then—

“Oh my god!”

Ellen practically flew down the stairs, eyes zeroing in on your face.

Jim followed behind her, frowning. “Jesus, what happened?”

Jack, still very much enjoying the situation, grinned. “Oh, you know. Luke saw her for the first time in, like, a year and immediately tried to take her out.”

Luke groaned. “That is not what happened.”

Ellen, ignoring them, cupped your face as gently as she could, careful not to touch your nose. “Sweetheart, oh my gosh! You’re hurt!”

Jack, ever the instigator, added, “She is hurt, but also—she looks amazing, right?”

Ellen’s eyes flickered over your face—well, the parts of it that weren’t covered in blood—and beamed. “Oh, honey, you are stunning! Look at you! College has done wonders for you.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Ellen, she’s bleeding.”

Ellen waved him off. “Yes, yes, I see that, but look at how grown up she is!” She turned to Quinn. “Quinn, tell me she doesn’t look gorgeous.”

Quinn, handing Luke an ice pack, huffed out a laugh. “She does.”

Jack smirked. “Luke sure thinks so.”

Luke whipped around. “Jack, I will actually—”

Jim chuckled, finally stepping in. “Alright, El, let’s fix her up before we start matchmaking.”

Luke, still looking like he desperately wanted to disappear, guided you to the kitchen table and sat you down. “Okay, let me—uh—yeah, just—” He fumbled with the ice pack, hands slightly shaky.

You raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Just—quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—” Luke exhaled sharply. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

Jack howled. Quinn raised his eyebrows.

Ellen gasped like this was the best news she had heard all day.

Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

Luke groaned.

And you?

You just smiled.

It was going to be a great summer.

part two!

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

CRUSH- D.GRAYSON

pairing: richboy! dick grayson x girly! innocent!fem! reader

part one here!

word count: 2.7k

summary: its the morning after your prince charming had swooped you off your feet, and somehow- dicks secret superpower is diminishing hangovers, by taking care of you.

warnings: sexual thoughts/ implications, kissing/ slight make-out session, pet names, mentions of masturbation, size kink implied, swearing, dick asks reader out on her first date and kinda acts like a sugar daddy lol, he's kinda a soft dom in a way...

Your head felt like a truck had run over it.

As if you had been tossed on the road, and a Ford F150 had slowly taken its time driving its tires over your head.

You woke up, still in your clothes from the night before, makeup smudged and jewellery tangled. Groaning, you slowly pulled each limb out of bed, feeling like a jello.

The clock hands ticked just past ten thirty, but it felt like you had got an hour of sleep, tops.

You were in definite need of a nap today, you thought to yourself as you slowly rocked up to your feet, tugging off your clothes from the previous night.

The fact you had worn outdoor club clothes in your bed… yeah, you’d need to wash your sheets today too.

You let the morning light that peaked through your thin curtains illuminate the path to your dresser, where you tugged on a new pair of panties and an oversized band tee. Kicking past skirts and thongs, you placed your head in your hands before you managed the courage to go out and brave the bathroom.

And the kitchen. But the thought of greasy bacon and eggs made you excited, just a little.

You creaked open your door, starting to walk to the bathroom before stopping in your tracks.

Oh fuck.

Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the couch, blanket covering practically nothing as he snoozed. His legs were spread, one out on the floor, the other over the arm of the couch.

And his abs… Oh god.

Here was this man- completely sprawled out in your living room- that you had completely forgotten about him staying- mind you. You didn't know why he stayed- the couch clearly was not suited for him- but you were glad he did.

You just needed to get things ready before he woke. And put pants on.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…” you mumbled, feet pattering on the hardwood as you scurried to the bathroom.

What you didn't know of course, was the man was already awake- and had been for a while. He had learned to “pretend sleep”, so his roommates would leave him alone when they came home and he was in the living room.

You didn't even let the water warm up before you were scrubbing at your face frantically, like a mad woman before trying to fix your bedhead.

Soon he’d be awake, and you wanted to make him breakfast in bed (on the couch? You didn't know what the hell to call it).

It was the least you could do for him, for taking care of you. He was so sweet. It made your heart flutter, remembering how kind he was to you last night. And here he was on your uncomfortable ass sofa!

A true gentleman indeed.

You frantically rushed to the kitchen, seeing his body still splayed out as you darted to the kitchen, trying your best to be quiet.

“Fuck fuck okay make coffee, make him coffee and find eggs…” you whispered to yourself, making him smirk to himself. He cracked an eye open, shifting so he rested his head over the sofa, watching you silently.

You were in your own little world, trying to reach for a mug on the highest shelf.

“Need any help with that bun?”

You jumped, whipping around to face where he rested his arms and head over the couch back- a smirk on his face.

“You scared me! How long have you been awake for? I’m so sorry if I was loud-”

“A while. You werent loud sweetheart. Dont need to get yourself all worried about me, okay?”

He stood with a stretch, ruminging around on the ground before he found his target- tugging on his pants from last night. You quickly averted your gaze- covering your eyes with a hand as he tugged them on, pulling your fingers apart just a peak to try and get a glance.

You felt guilty but- oh well. You already saw him when he was “sleeping”. 

Heat spread throughout your body as he made his way over to you, trapping you in against the countertop- facing his chest as he reached up with ease to grab the mug you were after. You were frozen in place for what felt like forever, as if you were a statue, just marveling at the sight of him.

“T-thanks.” you managed to mutter out as he handed you the mug, cocky grin plastered across his face- knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Oh but wait! Things get better! Your inner monologue shouted at you as his hand reached up to brush a stray eyelash of your cheek, rough thumb so gentle across your skin.

“You feeling okay?” he asked gently, knowing last night was… something.

“I’m okay. I have this throbbing in my head- like a drum. S’annoying.”

He snorted, grabbing another mug for himself.

“Yeah that’ll do it. Coffee will fix you up.”

“Do you not have a headache?” you asked, suddenly broken from your trance as he neared the coffee machine, reminding you of your duties before he decided to flip flop your heart around.

“Me? You’re cute.”

You frowned, forehead lines crinkling in a way that made him swoon. You were so adorable when you frowned. Like a little bunny, crinkling its nose.

“Thats not fair.”

“Sweetheart, one of us here is a lightweight, and one of us here is not. Thats the way it goes. Plus, I’m a lot bigger then you.”

You raised your eyebrow, flicking on the machine, the hot liquid beginning to trickle out into his mug.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. And stronger too.”

You swallowed, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller, and smaller. You’re apartment wasnt exactly a penthouse suite, but it wasnt super small either. Yet, your kitchen felt like it was crammed with him in it, the room turning hot, your cheeks filled with heat.

“I-I think your coffee is done Dickie.” you murmered, watching as he reached right past you, grabbing the cup and taking a sip.

He drank it black. Of course.

Whistling a little tune as he opened your fridge, craining down to dig around in your fridge, as if he had lived here for years. “Do you want some fruit?” he asked, pulling out a container of berries, and a carton of eggs.

“Please. God I need a strawberry in my system, or I’m gonna crash out.”

“What- you haven't already?”

You lunged at his remark, wacking his bicep lightly, making him laugh. “Make me eggs or I’ll crash out even more.” you smiled, snagging the milk out of the fridge door to pour in your own coffee, adding some sugar.

Popular opposites, it seemed.

He raised his hand to his forehead, giving you a stern salute. “You got it sweetheart.”

----------------------------------

It was the best hangover morning you’d ever had.

You didn't even know those existed, but with Dick Grayson- they did.

He made breakfast in your kitchen, like it was his house. Serving up perfect eggs and toast, with your fruit- it was as if it was gourmet.

Planting a soft kiss on the top of your head, before serving it to you was the cherry on top.

The two of you talked as the sun steadily filtered through the clouds, laughter and utensils clattering. He was just- you couldn't even put your finger on it. It was like he was your boyfriend- honestly.

You just met him the other night, and here he was, making you breakfast and laughing at your stupid jokes after staying the night on the couch- AFTER taking care of you.

There was no sex. No trade offs, no nothing.

It made your head spin, at the complete 180 he seemed to be from most college guys. He was older, yes, but not by much. A few years at most. But he carried himself as if he was matured, older and wise.

Like he could get anything he wanted, if he talked slickly enough- which he always did.

You were captivated under his spell, watching his blue eyes sparkle as he talked, and the ink black strands that would fall in front of them.

He was smart, he was funny and he was oh so sweet.

You wanted him to stay forever, just as company- in all honesty. He was amazing company. The silence was never awkward, when there was some that hung in the air. He’d just admire you from where you sat at the breakfast nook.

“You’re so pretty. You know that? The prettiest girl.”

It made your skin heat, always looking down at your hands fiddling in your lap, when his compliments became overwhelming (they all did).

But when the coffee grew cold, reality had set in, and he had to leave. As much as it pained you to let him go from your safe haven, you knew he had his own life to attend to- and you had yours. But that didn't stop you from trying to convince him, nonetheless.

”I think you should stay.” you teased as you opened the front door, leaving it swung open- as if to coax him back inside.

He groaned. “Bunny, you know I’d love to. But-”

His phone started to buzz, and he rolled his eyes, fishing it out of his pocket. Tim’s name flashed across the screen, a man you presumed was his friend.

“Speak of the devil. I gotta get back to help my roommates with something I promised them sadly, but I promise I’ll be back. Okay?”

You nodded, stepping out from where you were shielded by the door, body coming into full view. His eyes darkened, as he saw your thighs that poked out at him from your t-shirt in the dimmed hallway lighting.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can. Would you like to get dinner sometime this week?” he asked, stepping closer to you, so your breaths were practically intermingling.

You crained your head up to look at him with wide, doe eyes- and he nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that Dickie.”

“Yeah I know you would. Now cmere, I wanna kiss you. That okay?”

You licked your lips as he slowly backed you up against the doorframe, caging you in as his hand slipped up to grasp your jaw, holding it gentle- yet firm.

“I’d love that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? This okay sweetheart?” he breathed, leaning down so his lips were almost touching yours.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, the sweet taste of him sending shocks up your spine- nerves coursing on fire at the sensation, as his tongue coaxed your lips to part, begging for entrance.

You moaned, muffled by his lips as he swallowed you whole, consuming you as he gripped your waist, tugging your hips closer to him, so your back was arched against the old wooden frame.

You felt dizzy, when the two of you finally parted, your lips feeling flushed and swollen, a dazed look in your eye as you just stared at him.

Was that the best kiss of your life? Yes.

Were you going to tell him that? Hell no.

You knew his ego did not to be inflated anymore.

He smiled mischievously, like a feline as he planted a kiss on your forehead, and then another, before he turned down the hall. Like he didn't just sweep you off your feet, leaving you dazed like some swooning princess who had just found her prince charming.

“I’ll call you sweetheart.” he called, waving without a second glance, before he disappeared down the stairs, and out the door- leaving no trace of him but your flushed skin and the door swinging on its hinges. 

--------------------------------

Dick was hounded the second his foot stepped in the door.

“So? When do we meet her?” Tim asked from the living room, perched beside the IKEA boxes of parts for the new couch he was supposed to help put up (even though they could easily do it without his help).

He slammed it behind him, hard. “Don't even start.”

Jason let out a little whistle, not even sparing Dick a glance, though he knew the look in his eye would set him off anyways. “He really likes this one Drake. Means he’s gonna get all possessive and not share her with any of us.”

He tossed Dick a wink, making Dick clench his fingers into fists. God they knew how to get under his skin.

“He’s scared she’ll decide she likes us better, don't worry Dickie, I get it.” Tim called, watching as Dick rolled his eyes, making his way over to the mess on the hardwood floor.

“When do we need this done by?” he ignored Tim, starting to pry open one of the boxes.

“Uhh I don't know, when do you want a couch for?”

“I don't know why we need a new couch. Our old one was fuckin fine.” Jason grumbled, flipping a screwdriver between his fingers, even though he was strong enough to probably just press the damn nails in.

“Because it was disgusting and I’m tired of breaking my ass on a spring whenever I watch a game.” Tim mumbled.

Dick was in his own world, tuning out anything that wasn't the thought of you. He already missed your presence. Your soft touch, your sweet smell, the little noises you made when he kissed you, pressing you firmly against the door.

So close he could feel your hardened nipples brush against his chest, skin hot to the touch.

He needed to see you, and soon. Where the hell did he want to take you for dinner?

Up on the East end?

No, not fancy enough.

He needed something spectacular for you. Ideally, he’d want you ending the bed in his bed, in his car- he didn't care where. He just wanted you again, your lips and your pretty little sounds that he would most definitely be imagining tonight when his hand was wrapped around his cock.

He’d take his time with you, unravelling you like a gift. Whether that was on leather seats or memory foam mattresses, he didn't care.

He’d needed this extra special for you.

He’d call in some favours.

---------------------------------- It was nearing the late evening when your phone buzzed, the only name you wanted to see popping up on it.

You were all ready for bed, facemask completed, everything shower done, soft pjs on, nails painted and candle lit. Seeing his name flash on the screen made your heart flutter, and you quickly opened his message, not even bothering to pause your show before responding.

Dick: Hey pretty. Does Tuesday work for dinner?

You: Hi :) Tuesday is perfect!

Even if you had plans that night- you’d push them aside.

Dick: Perfect. Be ready for 8pm, sharp ;)

You: Yes sir:)

You watched his message bubble up, before disappearing again. Then it popped up again, a notification alerting you that he had sent you money.

Your jaw dropped.

This man had just sent you $800 dollars.

Dick: You’re gonna accept this okay? Or I’m going to be very upset and I’ll find a way into your apartment and hand you the money myself. Get yourself something nice for Tuesday.

You were gobsmacked.

How the fuck were you supposed to accept this?

You: Dickie… I don't think I can accept this. And I don't even know what to wear.

Dick: You’ll accept it, and you’ll find something. Anything you pick will be beautiful, I promise bunny.

Your hands were shaking as you held your phone between twitching fingers, in a state of shock. You had known this man for two days, and he was splurging $800 on you? You didn't even know how to respond.

Although to him, you supposed- it probably was next to nothing.

Here he was, making you play dress up to some date planned- that you were unaware of. You had no theme to go off of, no idea of what was happening.

You bit your lip, fighting a little more, even begging for a clue or hint of what to wear- but he gave you nothing. Claiming he wanted you to be authentic, to wear whatever you wanted.

It was too much creative freedom.

Your head swarmed with thoughts of all the possibilities, $800 was a lot of money, and you didn't even know where to start. You let yourself have a mini freakout, and be overwhelmed, before you tucked yourself under the covers, pulling out your laptop to start browsing Pinterest.

You had no time to mess around.

You had a crush to impress.

--------------------------------------------------------

eek so dickie is gonna go all romantic and take reader on her first date? hmmm ;)

@gwyneveire <3 if anyone else wants to be tagged i can try and remember to add you in the future!

[cinnawonbabe]

ATTENTION, PLEASE!

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris x dealer!reader

💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: you and chris spend the night hanging out on his roof after your first day of making sales together.

there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

The sun sank slowly below the skyline, and the evening turned to nightfall as you and Chris finished up your last deal of the day. You'd been showing him all the stops, introducing him to your customers, and teaching him the way you did everything.

He got into your passenger seat and sighed as his head fell against the headrest, really wishing he had a joint right about now. "Damn, ma. I can't believe how much money we made today," Chris mumbled, slouching down into his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the wad of cash he'd made for the day.

"I know, and we're only a third of the way through the product," you smiled back, doing the math in your head about the potential profit. "I could never work a 9 to 5," Chris sighed, sifting through the $100 bills. "Can't believe I just made in a day what it would take some sucker to make in two weeks at some office job."

You fastened your seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, admiring Chris, who brought his fingers to his lips and slowly licked them as he separated the crisp hundreds. "What are you thinking about, ma? My tongue or my fingers?" Chris flirted, catching you staring out of the corner of his eye and giving you a seductive smirk as he ran his tongue along the pads of his fingers again, flitting through his money.

You squeezed your thighs together as you bit down on your lip. For a moment, you were thinking about both at the same time. You hated the effect he had on you, the way he knew how to get inside your head, intrude on your thoughts, and invade your sexual fantasies. "You're fucking gross, Chris," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to hide how turned on you were.

He responded with a chuckle, knowing that he was getting to you even if you wanted to deny it. "So, am I dropping you off at your girlfriend's house?" You asked, reminding him that he had one. "Nah, can you drop me off at my place? I'm staying home tonight," Chris requested. "I can do that. Just tell me where to go," you replied, your eyes darting around between the road in front of you, your side mirrors, and your rearview.

"So, have you told Daisy yet?" You asked, your gaze flickering over at Chris, who was shaking his head. "I'll tell her, ma, when I'm ready," Chris grumbled. He knew you were right. He knew he had some things to work out, like telling his girlfriend the real way he made his money or dealing with the fact that he was finding himself sexually attracted to his new business partner. He stole another glance at you from your passenger seat as the fantasy he'd had the night before flashed through his mind, praying you wouldn't notice the tent forming in his jeans.

When you pulled into Chris' driveway, he thanked you again for the ride. "I can't believe I've been sober for eight hours," Chris mentioned, bouncing his leg as you parked. "No wonder you've been so uptight today," you teased him. "Maybe you should come smoke with me since you're always uptight," Chris smirked, nudging you in the arm with his elbow, but his offer was genuine.

You gave him an annoyed look, but you couldn't hold back the smile that spread across your lips. "I don't smoke weed, Chris. I haven't since I was a teenager," you replied, fidgeting with the material of your black steering wheel cover. "Why not?" Chris wondered, surprised by your admission. "I like being clear-headed. I don't like feeling out of control," you shrugged.

"We're on a floating rock in space, ma. The idea that you have control over anything is an illusion," Chris laughed, reaching for his door handle. "C'mon. Come inside. Do you drink? I've got a beer with your name on it if you wanna hang out with me for a little."

You were quiet for a second. It wasn't often that people invited you to hang out or just do something fun with them, and for a moment, you thought maybe you could use it. "I could stay for one beer," you responded hesitantly, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "That's what I'm talking about, ma. Let your hair down once in a while," Chris replied, beaming with a smile.

You trailed behind him, staring down at your shoes as you followed the pattern of the stepping stones that led to his front door. "Oh, shit. I forgot my house key at Daisy's place," he sighed, running his finger through his hair. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Do you need me to take you to Daisy's place after all?" You huffed, slightly annoyed at the situation.

"Nah, it wouldn't do any good anyways. She's at work. Plus, this won't take long," Chris said, pulling a pin out of his pocket and fiddling with the lock. You nervously looked around, worried someone was going to see him picking his lock and call the cops or something, but in a matter of seconds, you heard a click, and you watched as he turned the knob. His door creaked open, and he glanced back at you with a mischevious smile.

"Okay, now you're just showing off," you replied, raising an eyebrow. "What can I say, ma? I'm good with my hands. Gotta show you my skillset somehow," Chris playfully winked at you. You scoffed, biting back a smile. A part of you liked the way he couldn't keep himself from making sexual innuendos and flirting with you.

"If you need me to pick a lock on a deal, though, you're splitting the money 50/50 with me," Chris told you, stepping into his living room. "What kind of shady shit do you think I'm up to, Chris? I'm just selling coke. Not robbing people," you joked, following him in. "You never know," Chris peeked back at you over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.

"This is it," he announced, raising his arms to present his place to you. It was a dimly-lit, relatively small place, but it had a safe, cozy vibe to it. "I like it," you told him, your eyes scanning them room. You noticed his sprouting marijuana plants in the corner sitting beneath his grow lights and an old shelf beside it that was littered with comic books and novels you'd never heard of.

His house faintly smelled of weed and sandalwood, like how Chris always smelled, and you found the familiar scent comforting as it wafted through the air. He directed you over towards his couch and motioned for you to sit. You sat down, awkwardly perching at the edge of the couch cushion.

"C'mon, ma. You can relax. Kick your feet up," he told you, heading over towards his fridge to give you that beer he promised you. You exhaled and slowly leaned back into his sofa that was much softer than you imagined it would be. Chris twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to you. The red and white label that read Stella Artois stared back at you, and you hesitantly reached out and took it.

Chris plopped down on the couch beside you, and you watched as he sprinkled a bit of ground weed into his rolling paper. You peered down at his rings and his fingers at the way they skillfully handled the joint, tucking the paper in and folding it in on itself.

His gaze flickered up at you as his tongue darted out, and he licked a long, slow stripe across the edge of the joint. His lips curled into a suggestive smile as he noticed you watching him, but you acted unamused, pulling your eyes away from his. You held the bottle up to your lips, taking a small, refreshing sip, the bubbles fizzing against your tongue as you relaxed further into the comfy couch.

You peered down the hall to an open door at the end. The room was dark, but you imagined it was probably Chris' bedroom. You found yourself wondering what it looked like, how comfortable his bed was, and how hard it would be for you to keep your hands off of him if you ever found yourself alone with him in there.

"You coming?" Chris asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and standing to his feet as soon as you'd gotten comfortable. "Coming where?" You wondered, giving him a perplexed look. "To the roof. The view's great up there," Chris responded, making his way towards the back door.

You hesitantly followed him back out into the cool air of the backyard where he had a ladder propped up against the side of his house. "C'mon, ma. I'll hold your beer. You start climbing the ladder," Chris told you, extending his arm to take your bottle from you. "Yep. Just smoking and drinking on a roof. What could possibly go wrong?" You muttered under your breath as you wrapped your fingers around the cold, metal rungs.

"Don't worry, ma. I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, I'll catch you," Chris' breath tickled your neck as he pressed his warm body into yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. It was the closest you'd ever been to him. You were just glad you were faced away from him, so he couldn't see the unmistakable look of desire written in your expression as heat radiated off his skin.

You cleared your throat and regained your composure. "Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me?" You snarked at him, peering over your shoulder in an attempt to take control of the situation again. Chris chuckled, but he didn't answer you, leaving it up for interpretation. You started to hesitantly climb the ladder, and Chris followed closely behind, keeping his promise to not let you fall as he held your beer in one hand and the unlit joint between his lips.

The two of you made it to the roof, and Chris handed you your beer once the two of you got settled. The star-filled sky hung overhead as you looked out at the horizon. You saw the tops of the other houses, the city lights scattered across the skyline, and the waves crashing on the beach shore off in the far distance. You brought your bottle of Stella Artois up to your lips and took another sip as you took in the view. There was something about this perspective that made your problems feel smaller and less pressing.

"Pretty cool, isn't it, ma?" Chris asked beside you as you heard the flick of his lighter sound as he held the flame up to the end of his joint. You quietly nodded, surprised by how much you could see from Chris' roof. "So, ma. What do you say we get to know each other better and play your favorite game, twenty questions?" Chris smiled over at you with the lit joint pinched between his two fingers.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn't have an excuse this time. There was no work to be done, and there was nowhere to go to avoid his questioning, so you took a deep breath and another swig of your drink. "Okay, fine. Hit me," you finally replied after a moment of hesitancy.

"Where do you go to clear your mind?" Chris wondered, his gaze locked on you. "The beach. I like the waves. The sounds of the seagulls. Feeling the sand between my toes. It's peaceful," you shrugged. Even though the question wasn't a very personal one, you felt vulnerable answering.

"What about you, Chris?" You wondered aloud. "You're looking at it," Chris said with his joint tucked between his lips. He didn't need to explain anything further. You could tell why this was the place he went to sort out his thoughts.

"Alright. What kind of music do you listen to?" You blurted out, not sure of what to ask him next. "Anything, really. But I prefer indie over everything else," he told you. "Okay, play me your favorite song," you told him, gesturing towards his phone he had sitting beside him. He picked it up, staring back at you as he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he responded, scrolling through the saved albums on his phone until he came across AM by Arctic Monkeys. No. 1 Party Anthem started playing through the speaker of his phone, and you nodded in approval as the melody filled the space between you.

"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you choose?" Chris asked, turning off his phone screen and letting the song play softly in the background of your conversation. You thought about it for a moment. "See, I wanna say Pablo Escobar or something, but I think I'd want to have dinner with one of those druglords who flew under the radar so well that we don't even know their names," you replied. "Damn, ma. That's a good answer," Chris mumbled with the joint hanging from his lips.

He glanced up at you as if silently reminding you it was your turn to ask a question. "What did you think of me when you first met me?" You wondered aloud. You gave him a look like he should be careful about how answered this question. He cracked a smile, remembering the first time you'd approached him and threatened him for selling his weed on your block and trying to steal your customers. "I thought you were tough. Not the kind of woman you want to mess with. I also thought you were super hot," Chris admitted. You blushed, hoping Chris couldn't tell in the glow of the moon.

"What's one thing you don't leave the house without?" Chris asked you, pulling a long drag from his joint. "My keys," you sharply responded, subtly teasing him for having to break into his own place earlier. He let out a laugh. "And my gun," you told him. You sipped on your bubbly drink, noting that the song had changed.

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High started to play as you glanced back over at the blue-eyed man beside you. "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?" You asked, peeling the label off your beer bottle. "Nothing," Chris smirked over at you. "Nothing?" You reiterated, furrowing your brow. "Nothing," he repeated. "You're a little cocky, aren't you?" You shot back. "I prefer confident," Chris chuckled before he pulled from the joint again.

"What do you think the most important quality in a friend or partner is?" Chris asked after a few seconds of silence. "Honesty and loyalty," you said without hesitation, and Chris nodded in agreement. "You?" You asked. "Probably just someone who isn't going to bail when things get hard," Chris sincerely responded.

"What's your biggest fear?" You asked him, the questions getting deeper and deeper. "Losing the people I love," he answered, staring down at the build-up of ash on the cherry before flicking it off. "How about you, ma?" He returned the question. "Trusting the wrong person and getting hurt," you responded almost immediately. "I get that," Chris answered, his gaze still fixed on you.

"What's your guilty pleasure?" Chris asked you, his luscious lips curling into a smile as he awaited your response. "Probably those dumb reality shows," you admitted, your cheeks growing warm. "Really? Never took you for a girl who likes trash TV," Chris teasingly nudged your arm. "Daisy loves that shit, too."

"What's one of your guilty pleasures?" You asked Chris. He bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down. He knew what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be crossing the line of just playful flirting and venturing into uncharted territory, so he came up with something on the spot.

"Watching the trash TV with her. I'm always making fun of her for watching The Bacholorette and shit like that, but then I find myself watching it with her and getting all invested," Chris confessed.

"I totally get it. Like, I started watching it as a joke at first, and then you get to know the people. Then you start wanting them to end up together," you said, glancing up at him, and his eyes met yours. The song changed again, and you listened as the lyrics came through:

🎶 If you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours. 🎶

The two of you stared at each other in a comfortable silence for a moment, Chris taking a puff of his weed as you took a swig of beer. "So, what does Daisy think you're out doing all day when you're working?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him. "As far as she knows, I work in sales, which isn't totally a lie. She just doesn't know about the drugs," Chris shrugged. "Yeah, she doesn't know about the most important detail," you scoffed, tapping on the glass of your bottle.

"Why are you always judging me for that, ma? I've got my reasons. Why are you so pressed about it?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. "I had an ex who kept things from me, like how much money he owed certain people. He put me in a lot of dangerous situations. Don't want to watch you do the same shit to Daisy," you murmured, letting Chris in more than you had up until this point. "I didn't know, ma," Chris said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder and relaxing his jaw. "You know, I'd never intentionally hurt her. Or you."

"It doesn't matter, Chris. You can be the most well-intentioned person in the world and still hurt the people around you," you responded. He was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what you said.

"Your ex? Alex?" Chris wondered, blowing out a cloud of smoke against the night sky as he recalled Joe using that name earlier. "Yeah. My dumb fuck ex. He got himself killed because he owed the wrong people money," you said in a dry tone. "Holy shit. Ma, I'm so sorry," Chris whispered. "Don't be. He deserved it," you muttered under your breath.

"Hey, I have a question. Why do you always call me ma?" You chimed in. "It's just a sign of respect. That's all," he shrugged. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No. It's fine. I don't care what you call me. You gotta stop looking at me like that, though. Looking like you're gonna kiss me or some shit," you accused him, following his gaze that danced between your eyes and your lips as you took another drink of your beer. The song changed again.

🎶 How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep. 🎶

"I'm not looking at you any type of way! Maybe you're projecting because you wanna kiss me," he shot back. The sexual tension between the two of you was thick, and for a moment, you each thought about it. The temptation was there, and it was strong. You wanted to pull him as close as you could, passionately press your lips against his, and tangle your fingers in his soft, brown hair, but you didn't want to ruin your business relationship with him.

Chris thought the same, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, but he didn't want to screw up what he had with Daisy, and he didn't want to give you the wrong impression. He diverted his eyes, glancing down at his joint that had burned down to the roach, and he put it out. "Get enough of the view, ma? I'm getting kind of tired," Chris chimed in as you admired his profile in the moonlight.

For a moment, you forgot he was talking about the scape of the city from the roof. "Oh, right. Yeah, of course. I should probably go," you said, fiddling with the empty bottle in your hand. "You can stay the night if you need to," Chris motioned towards the alcoholic beverage you'd finished off, but he knew he was playing with fire the moment the words left his mouth, inviting you to stay the night.

🎶 Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you'd stay. 🎶

The two of you exchanged a look like you both knew it wouldn't be a good idea. Even with you both sleeping in separate rooms, you each knew deep down that a closed door wouldn't be enough to deter you two from the temptation. "It's cool, Chris. It was just one beer. I'll just grab a glass of water, sit on your couch for twenty minutes, and I'll be fine to drive," you told him. Chris picked up his phone and paused the song. "I got you, ma. I'll help you down."

You felt elated once you were finally sitting back down on Chris' couch, sobering up. You weren't sure if it was a buzz from the alcohol, an adrenaline rush from being on the roof, or just the way you were starting to feel around Chris.

Chris gave you some crackers to help "absorb the alcohol," because he had "heard somewhere that it does," and even though you'd only had one beer, it was sweet that he cared enough. You also both just knew that you had to sober up, because staying the night wasn't an option unless you were both prepared to give into the force that was pulling the two of you together and end up doing something that could hurt Daisy or hurt your business relationship.

So you were munching away on Ritz crackers on Chris' couch after your single beer, and once you felt like the effects of the alcohol had worn off, you made a comment about how late it was getting and about how you should probably get going.

You left, following the same stepping stones you'd used when you walked up. When you approached your car, you reached into your empty pocket for your keys just to remember you'd left them on Chris' coffee table. "Shit," you whispered, realizing you were going to have to do a walk of shame back up to his front door after giving him shit for forgetting his keys earlier.

Chris had already started to get ready for bed, shedding his layers and slipping into a pair of flannel pajama pants when a soft knock sounded at his front door. He peeked through the peephole to make sure it was you, his heart racing and secretly wondering if you'd come back to kiss him or confess your feelings for him, his mind swirling with half a dozen possibilities.

He turned the doorknob, and when you saw him, your eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that he was shirtless. "Uh, sorry. I forgot my keys," you told him, unable to conceal your smile at the irony of the situation. "Oh, you mean, the keys you don't go anywhere without?" Chris asked, leaning against the door frame and indulging in the fact that you were doing nothing to hide the fact that you were checking him out.

"Yeah. Those ones," you smirked, biting down on your lip. "I'll go get 'em, ma," Chris chuckled at you as he turned to retrieve your keys. You found yourself holding your breath as your gaze danced over the definition of his back muscles in the soft lighting of his living room.

He handed them to you, and as you took them from him, his hand brushed against yours. You both exchanged a look that was heavy with the words unspoken between you, but you also both silently agreed it was for the best. "Okay, goodnight," you said, unconsciously batting your eyelashes at him. "Goodnight," Chris smirked, eyeing you up and down as you turned to walk away before closing his door again.

As soon as you made it to your car, you reflected on the way you acted and how stupid you must have sounded, silently kicking yourself. You didn't harp on it for long, though. Your embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the intoxication and bliss you felt from being around such an attractive man who was beginning to make you smile more than he made you roll your eyes.

taglist: @skye-44 @faiyaz555 @idrk2292 @chrisclean @drewswife @trevorsgodmother @sofisturns @milo-the-dog @rockstarchr1s @bluetalia @xaristhings @nomusic-nodreams @birkinbratsworld @wastelandzella @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @drewstarkeys @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[hscherrywine]

Tired Teasing

Summary: A relaxing night with Harry takes a naughty turn. Some more cute fluffy smut. Harry is a tease and you’re tired.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: none really just some smut, female receiving

Ever since you and your boyfriend, Harry, decided to become serious, Sundays have been your favorite day of the week. The two of you have the day off almost every week and always make the most of it.

The day itself was great - being able to be lazy with Harry and watch some movies. But now it was night and the two of you were getting ready for bed. You took a shower and got cozy in your fresh sheets, excited to read some of your current book read. Harry was somewhere downstairs finishing up some chores he’d promise to do.

If you could capture a feeling, it would be this one. So content with life that nothing could bring you down. Plus part of your nighttime routine tonight was an everything shower because you just needed some “me time”. You felt so relaxed and comforted by your bed.

You lay peacefully on your side, book in hand, curled up under the covers. You were waiting for Harry to come up to bed. Before you knew it, you heard his footsteps padding up the stairs. Within minutes he wandered into your room. You put your book down so transfixed by his being. He walked into your sight line since you were still lying on your side. You watched in awe as he changed from his everyday clothes into something more comfortable to sleep in.

Without even saying a word to you yet, he found his way to bed. His body dipped behind you and your body ignited. He was quick to wrap himself up in you, hugging your body from behind.

“Did you like the show?” He asks and you know he was aware that you watched him get dressed. Your cheeks flush feeling called out a bit, but you know he can’t see because your back is pressed to his front. You’re glad you're not facing each other because you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You don’t respond to his comment. Partly because you had no shame in watching your hot boyfriend strip and another part because you were too tired to engage him. Harry could sense this or something because he didn’t antagonize you much more, he just snuggled himself deeper into your neck like he couldn’t get close enough. You liked when he was soft and clingy with you.

His hands rubbed up and down your arms as he made small talk with you about your days. You loved being able to unwind with him like this. It was all very casual, him pressing mindless gentle kisses to your exposed skin as you talked. Until, he got a bit more carried away and you could tell that he was looking for a bit more.

“Harry…” you start but only trail off. The half of you that is exhausted just want to go to bed, but the other half always melts at his touch. Which one will win? you still don’t know. He keeps going up and down your neck and shoulders showing his affection until you call out his name again seeming slightly aggravated. He stops briefly, but only to get a few words out.

“You always smell so good..can’t stay away.” He mumbles and you feel his breath on you. That’s how close you two were. He reaches up to move your wet hair away from your shoulders to get closer to the spot he knows you love. “Can’t believe you showered without me baby.” He admits.

His affection tonight was undeniably adorable, so you give in. “I was waiting for you, why do you think it took me so long in there?” you tease. Truth is, you did take a long shower tonight, but not entirely for his sake.

“We’re not good at showering together.” He admits breaking away from you. “We never end up clean after those.” He jokes and you know exactly what he means. Memories come flooding back of times the two of had sex in your marble shower. “We’re not good at a lot of things, Harry, we always end up just having sex or something.” you laugh. It’s funny because it is entirely true. The two of you just can’t resist each other it’s like in your pheromones or something. Even mundane tasks like cleaning, doing the dishes, or folding laundry tempt the two of you. Right now is no different. With every delicate touch from Harry, you were getting less relaxed and more worked up and you were unsure if that was part of his plan or not.

“Look at us right now.” you point out “We can’t even relax in bed without being horny.” you scoff.

“Who said anything about that?” Harry asks playing dumb. Not cute. He doesn’t get to purposely rile you up and then pretend like that wasn’t his intentions.

“I know what you’re doing, Harry, and honestly i’m not sure if I have the energy right now.” You confess to him, still facing away. You know he respects your boundaries and everything but you’re shy to admit it.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want Y/N, but what if I do something for you. You know..just so you don’t over do anything.” He suggests. The idea is very tempting. At this point he was already slotting his leg in between your thighs and slowly moving the two of you so you were facing each other more. When you don’t immediately answer, Harry places a kiss away from your back and neck and on your check instead. The sweet gesture has you turning to face him with a smile. The two of you look at each other for the first time tonight all tangled together.

When you look into his eyes, you give in completely. After mere seconds, you are the one making the moves. You lean in the short distance to kiss your boyfriend in the lips for the first time tonight. The action is desperate in itself and quickly deepens. You hand Harry wrapped up in each other find a rhythm with your lips and body. All you can do is moan into his movements.

His hands trail up your back trying to squeeze you closer into him. Eventually they find their way under the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Without breaking the kiss, he unclasps it like he has a hundred times before.

Slightly in awe you pull away and notice a guilty smirk on his face for what he just did. It’s one of your favorite things that he does. “I’ll never get tired of you doing that.” you says to him. “And i’ll never get tired of how perfect your body is” He compliments. You don’t always agree with the compliments he showered you with. Sometimes you feel like he says things just to make you happy, but the way he delivers them is impossible to make them insincere.

It’s like he can hear your thoughts going round in your head. “I mean it, baby, every time. Everything about you is so perfect.” He rambles. He goes back to his favorite position with his mouth on yours. This time his hands travel back to your back but they take of your shirt instead. His is quick to come off too.

“I know my girl is tired and it’s been a long week, but I just need to appreciate you a little.” he whispers to you. The energy between you two is heating up so much so he is practically above you at this point. He is taking in your body with his eyes even though the two of you are still under the covers. Harry isn’t a huge fan of that and gently exposes the two of you from your bedding. It is here where he notices that the shirt he removed from you was the only thing you wore to bed.

He is slightly shocked by the discovery. “You had me doubting the mood tonight, but here you were all ready for me.” he scolds. You rarely sleep completely naked so this is a surprise for him. He can’t contain himself now running his hands up and down your thighs. Teasing you with a soft touch. He makes the split decision to move from your upper body to focus on your lower half. He did a lot of teasing already when the two of you were mindlessly chatting. He didn’t think he had that much of an effect on you until he revealed what was under the conversation and it became every apparent.

He slowly worked his way down until he was inches away from your core. He was slow to give you what you wanted, knowing that you were struggling without his conceding. He kissed and sucked in your thighs until he couldn’t contain himself. He gently ran one finger up and down your folds just to gather some arousal. He then sucked his digit clean and leaned back up for a kiss.

“Relax for me. I’m gonna make you feel so good before we go to sleep.” He mutters traveling back down to your heat. This time he gently caresses two digits on your labia but careful not do really pay attention to your clit yet. He was too teasing in his actions that you reached your hands up to play with your own tits while he teased your bottom half.

“Normally I’d be upset with you for touching yourself, but just this once you can because you look so hot tonight” he smiles completely enticed by the way your hold and squeeze your own breasts.

“I wouldn’t have to if you just gave me what I wanted.” you shoot back, tired of his teasing.

“And what is it that you want to bad baby?” He asks looking into your eyes and adding pressure on his fingers.

“Mouth. Fingers. I want it all Harry. I need it.” you whine at him. your hands move from your breasts to to clutch at the sheets beside you.

Before you know it, he’s feverishly answering your prayers. Wasting no time at all he inserted two digits into your wetness. The interruption made you gasp especially since you were so sensitive from Harry’s games earlier.

He wanted to be slow and take your time on you tonight since you needed to relax but he knew that it wouldn’t be possible. He abandoned all his plans and dove right into your cunt. Mouth attached and sucking feverishly on your clit and his fingers worked their way rhythmically in and out. Your release was approaching embarrassingly fast, but you knew you couldn’t give in.

You kept your eyes on him buried between your legs. Every time he does this you swear he gets better. You’ve never met someone who loved giving hess as much as Harry does. He out does himself every time. His fingers worked at a perfect pace moving all around your soft walls. they curled against the spongy area inside of you and encouraged your hole to leak and squelch.

In response he would just lick it up and go back to your clit. You were in heaven when he went down on you. You think he even bit your clit at some point to get you closer but you were too pleasured to even realize.

Listening to Harry’s advice about relaxing, you didn’t clench you body as your orgasm approached. You fought the tightening for your limbs and reached a whole new feeling. This was different than any other orgasm.

Harry could read your body like a book and knew you were about to come. He slowed to an agonizing halt only to receive an aggravated groan from you that he just brushed off. He was trying to work you up even more but quickly threw the bit out. The pleasure was too intense to risk at this point. Harry himself was grinding his hips into the bed to try and keep himself from exploding.

Your breaths became shallow and Harry’s grew intense. Your orgasm is seconds away from hitting you and your boyfriend is giving you everything he has.

“You gonna come for me baby? he asks taking his mouth away for a second. The cool air hits your clit and it’s almost enough to put you over the edge. Instead he takes his hands from inside you and rubs your clit with them until you release onto his hands.

He laps up the rest of the area with his tongue snd kisses your pelvis and thighs for a bit while you come down.

Your eyes are even heavier than before when you come down. The adrenaline wears off and you are left tired. “You want me to help you out now babe?” you offer but you can even get it out without a yawn. “Don’t worry about me.” He remind you “Just get some rest now honey.” he says crawling back up next to you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach after pulling the duvet back up to your necks. Between his hold and the sheets, you were ready to pass out.

So much for that shower, you ended up going to bed dirty after all. But all of it was worth it because Sunday nights with your boyfriend are the highlight of your week.

a/n: i swear i can write other things than my usual cute coupley tropes…i just choose not to rn. Also I wrote this while watching the chiefs lose the superbowl.

[boogiepopmeup]

God this reminds me of how yesterday I bought tickets to the Brutalist, got there and two old people had taken my seat. Theatre was small though so whatever I sat to the side. But then I proceeded to hear them are multiple points say they “don’t get it,” like shouldn’t you people be way more ready to “get” this than I, and under 40 year old? Are you Incapable of making connections?

There’s a part where a train derails. The characters state this was THEIR company that was doing the transport and two of their men are injured/could die, another character says this is a media disaster. Old people were like “why are they stopping? Just because one train derailed?” How flush with materials do you think they were back then?!? The film shows the entire crash and even has a character says that “it took 7 rail cars with it,” the MC even asks if he can go there to salvage materials and they say that’s not an option. So yea like. The train carrying THE MATERIALS TO BUILD WITH has EXPLODED essentially and possibly killed workers like yea that’s gonna pause construction. And the characters even stated why (can’t get materials, media nightmare, the entire film takes place before OSHA was a thing and highlights this multiple fucking times)

I think people have truly lost any ability to be patient with storytelling.

‘I don’t understand this’ They’ll explain it if you wait.

‘I don’t like how this episode left things hanging’ There’s a continuation next week.

‘This character is flat’ Wait for them to be fleshed out.

So many of the complaints I see about shows lately are people being confused by things THAT THE SHOW WANTS YOU TO BE CONFUSED BY THATS THE FUN OF MYSTERY AND FORESHADOWING YOU ABSOLUTE GOBLINS THE MAIN CHARACTER IS ALSO CONFUSED AND THEYRE GONNA DO A BIG REVEAL AND EXPLANATION LATER IF YOU WOULD JUST FUCKING WAIT

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

 “I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her.  “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”  she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

[simandy]

We're lacking just so many cultures in this game and the sad thing is that it's REALLY hard to make them work even if we try to because everything must be white usamerican suburb shaped 😒 "oh but we have cities-" I'm talking about the neighborhood framework. It's all those separated lots and you can even place walls on the last block. Why.

You know what I want, AT THE VERY LEAST? This:

This is Cape Town. But to be really honest? I didn't know what suburbs looked like in South Africa, which is an information that simply didn't reach me until now, but this is ALSO exactly what a suburb looks like in Brazil and now I'm happy to know I'm not alone in being pissed with the usamerican way every single sims world is built.

Sorry I kinda missed the point for a second there, it was just the human connection that transcends barriers again, [clears throat] anyway! All i wanted to say is that you don't need to live in the african continent or to be black to want an Africa inspired world, and saying "Africa inspired" is the LEAST they could ever do because what even is something "Africa inspired"? It's the same thing to say "South America" inspired and shove every single stereotype in only one world- ah, yeah. It has already happened. Well! It would be the same to say "european inspired"! But that would never happen, right? Since right now we have a [unfolds list] germanic world, scandinavian world, italian world... Did I forget any?

You don't need to be oh so cultured to want more diversity in your game, to honor such a big part of your fandom with representation, since black simmers are really the BACKBONE of this community and all they get is some hairs once in a while. All you need is a bit of common sense. And good taste. But EA and their bootlickers have none of it <3

And bellow, only some of the epic african architecture. I made SURE to get those from the same article, in the FIRST link google got me. Just so you know how easy it would be for EA to make it for you, but they won't. Because it's not profitable.:

Lideta Market, Ethiopia

Hikma Complex, Niger

Kenneth Dike Library, Nigeria

Great Mosque of Djenné, Mali