#i wanted it to be something that would feel like he had picked it as a kid and just sort of continued to use it

[ellewritesx]

terms of service

(part two of the sugar, baby series)

Summary: Before he can break you in, he needs to know exactly where you break.

Warnings: sugardaddy arrangement, fingering, oral (f!receiving), use of vibrator, mention of handcuffs, blindfolding, a panic attack, repeated use of safe words, a ton of ''good girl'' (oops), dom!Harry, it just gets kind of intense guys

A/N: i had so much fun writing this and i've got sooo much still in store for the series! i have no idea how this ended up being almost 5k words cause it feels shorter than anything else i've written but yk what i'll take it. let me know if you like this x

Word Count: 4,870

...

The morning after that first night with Harry, you wake up to the shrill buzz of your phone, a new notification lighting up the cracked screen. Bleary-eyed, you swipe it open and freeze. Your stomach drops. You blink once. Twice. But the number doesn't change.

Ten thousand dollars.

Deposited directly into your checking account at six o'clock in the morning. For a moment, all you can do is sit there, fingers trembling slightly where they clutch the device, heart hammering against your ribs like it's trying to punch its way free. It feels unreal, like a glitch in the system, like some impossibly generous mistake you should scramble to correct.

Before you can spiral too far, another notification rolls in.

Harry: For your trouble. Don't get any ideas, it won't always be this generous.

You don't know if he's joking.

Still in your pajamas, still half-numb, you stumble over to the kitchen table and open your laptop. In a daze, you pay off two months' rent in advance. Clear the electricity bill that's been relentlessly stacking up with threatening red letters. Kill the last of your credit card debt, the looming, gnawing anxiety that's been a permanent fixture in your life for as long as you can remember. With one click, it all vanishes. Just like that. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You sit back in the wobbly wooden chair and stare at the zeros. No debts to pay off. Rent covered for months. You blink slowly, feeling weightless and heavy all at once.

You should cry. You'd expected you would. But no tears come. Only a heavy, eerie kind of calm. Like you were standing on the edge of something vast and bottomless and have just taken your first step backwards, away from the deep end.

Later that afternoon, your phone pings again.

Harry: Quit the fucking cafe. Waste of time.

You stare at the message, thumb hovering over the screen. It would be so easy. To type out a resignation email, walk out of that dingy little shop with its sticky counters and fluorescent lights that make your head ache, and never look back. To let Harry sweep you up and off your feet and stay at home, maybe pursue a hobby.

But you don't. You type out a short, almost defiant reply. Can't. I like it.

You don't explain that working keeps you tethered to yourself. That hard work isn't just something you do; it's part of who you are. You've never had anything handed to you before. You've worked for every scrap, every small victory, every breath of air above water. Walking away from that would feel too much like walking away from yourself, even if a selfish, aching part of you wants to.

You wonder if your answer will piss him off. You wonder why a wicked little part of you wants it to.

When he doesn't reply, you expect to be iced out. Canceled. Game over before it even begins. It makes your stomach churn in fear. But the next day, after a particularly exhausting shift, a message comes through, curt and demanding:

Harry: Come to mine tonight. 9PM. Need to finalize terms.

His tone is sharp and professional, but something about it makes a subtle anticipation bloom between your legs anyway. You spend an hour picking out an outfit, second-guessing yourself the whole time. In the end, you settle on something simple. Comfortable, but soft. Easy to take off. You tell yourself it's practicality, but the fluttering in your stomach calls you a liar.

You take the bus to his place, cringing at the cost of a ticket until you remember that you've got more than enough money now. Hell, you could've ordered a limousine if you'd liked.

You never visit this part of the city. The people here wear designer sunglasses that cost more than a year's worth of your salary (besides, what's the point of wearing sunglasses when it's nearly pitch-black outside?), peering over them at you like they can sense that you're not like them. That you don't belong here.

When you knock on his door, Harry answers immediately, like he's been standing just behind it, waiting. His lingers in the doorway, broad shoulders framed in a loose black hoodie, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his curls damp like he's just stepped out of the shower. The faint smell of vanilla and mint clings to his skin, warm and heady in the cool night air.

He leans against the doorframe, appraising you silently for a moment with those unreadable green eyes, and something tightens inside your chest. You wonder if he notices the dark circles under your eyes you've tried covering up, exhaustion having clawed its way into your skin, unrelenting. You wonder if he resents it, a reminder that you aren't fully his yet. That you still belong, even a little, to a life outside of what he's trying to build around you.

''Come in,'' he says finally, voice low and gravelly. It's not a request.

You step inside, heart hammering.

"You're late," he says without looking at you, voice dry, turning his back on you and walking back into the apartment like he already knows you'll follow.

Your breath stutters. "Five minutes."

He only shrugs, like it doesn't matter, like you don't matter, and maybe you don't, but something in the way he leaves the door open, wide and waiting, soothes the sting a little. An invitation, even if it's a sharp-edged one.

The apartment smells like expensive cologne and the faintest trace of smoke, like he aired it out but not quite enough. The lighting is low, casting long, moody shadows across the heavy furniture: sleek, cold, and obscenely rich. Dark leather sofas. A steel-and-glass coffee table. No rugs, no paintings, no photos. No personal touches at all. You take a few cautious steps inside, pulse thrumming, letting your eyes roam while he moves into the kitchen.

The place feels like a model home. It's sterile. Hollow. Like a space meant to impress but never to be lived in. There are no family portraits, no framed snapshots of drunken nights with friends, no messy piles of mail or keys on the counters. Just the necessities. Barely even that. You wonder what kind of person chooses to live like this. You wonder if he even notices the loneliness curling in the corners of the room, or if he's too used to it by now to care.

You hear the clink of glass behind you; Harry fixing himself a drink. Something amber and expensive sloshes into a crystal tumbler. Without asking, he pours a second drink, slightly lighter, and sets it down on the counter with a muted tap.

Decided for you, like everything else. You take a small sip. It's good. He knows you better than you think.

When he finally turns back to face you, he's cradling his drink lazily in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. He cocks his head, surveying you like you're something he's bought and isn't quite sure he's satisfied with yet.

"Clothes off,'' he orders without ceremony, without even offering the barest pretense of conversation or kindness.

You blink, caught off-guard by the bluntness of it, the complete lack of foreplay, not sexual, but social. No small talk. No polite lies to smooth the way. Just a command.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, the blood in your veins boiling unpleasantly with offense. It's not like you didn't know what this was (you agreed to it, after all), but still, something about the way he dismisses any human interaction and social norms you're used to stings a little more than you're prepared for. Like you're less a person, more an object now. A thing he's purchased fair and square, and can use however he sees fit.

For a split second, you hesitate. The frown that flickers across your face is small, barely there, but it flashes quick and instinctive before you can school your features.

And Harry sees it. Of course he does. His eyes sharpen, a glint of something unreadable flickering behind the casual facade. He lifts the tumbler to his mouth, sips slowly, never breaking eye contact.

But he doesn't apologize. Doesn't explain himself. Doesn't soften the command. He just lets the silence stretch, heavy and deliberate, until the only thing you can hear is the faint hum of the busy bustling outside and the sound of your own breathing.

Still, something shifts almost imperceptibly in the air between you. Like he's offering you a choice, even if it's silent. Testing you. Waiting to see if you'll push back or fold.

Your fingers reluctantly move to the zipper of your dress, fumbling slightly. The fabric feels heavier than it should, thick and stubborn under your touch. Your cheeks flame with heat as you let it pool around your ankles, the air cool against your bare skin. You don't dare meet his eyes. Your panties come next, sliding down your legs in a slow, humiliating crawl.

You stand there, naked and flushed, heart jackhammering, feeling less like a goddess offered up on a velvet throne and more like a product left bare on a shelf for inspection.

Harry finishes his drink in one long swallow, sets the glass down with a sharp clink. Then he moves, slow, deliberate, until he's standing right in front of you, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. Two fingers tilt your chin up until your gaze locks with his.

"Color?" he asks quietly, almost gently, surprising you.

The simple question unravels something in you. You swallow hard. "Green," you whisper, the word catching slightly in your throat.

His mouth curves, not a smile, exactly, but something close. Satisfaction. Approval. Good girl.

You don't know if you're trembling from the cold or from the way he's looking at you like a man starved.

"On the bed," he orders, voice lowering, rougher this time.

You hesitantly walk toward the bed, your nerves buzzing like an electric current, your skin prickling under his watchful gaze. He follows behind at a leisurely pace, his steps deliberate, as though he owns every inch of the space between you two.

When you sit, knees pressed together tightly, a nervous instinct, you can feel his eyes on you, sharp and calculating. He doesn't say a word, but his stare is almost suffocating, like he's dissecting every tiny twitch of your body. You think you're hiding it, the tension coiling in your gut, the sharp breath you can't quite control, but Harry notices. He always notices.

"Spread."

You hesitate, just for a second, but that's enough. A flicker of amusement passes over his features, the kind that tightens your chest even more. You obey, reluctantly, the cool sheets beneath you feeling too uncomfortable, too foreign, your breath stuttering as you do what he says. He slowly kneels before you, like he's got all the time in the world, his hand casually holding something you hadn't even seen him grab: a slim, black vibrator, sleek and intimidating.

Your stomach flips. You open your mouth, but the words get stuck somewhere between wanting to beg him to stop and wanting to prove yourself.

"We're gonna test your limits," he says simply, his tone darker, more serious now. "Gotta know what you like. What you don't."

You swallow. "I thought we were... going to talk about the arrangement. Finalize the terms?"

He smirks, slow and cruel. "We are, baby. This is part of it."

Your heart races as he rolls the vibrator between his fingers, eyes glinting as he examines you. He's studying your every reaction, every subtle change in your body language.

You shift uncomfortably. Your hands are trembling, but you try to control it. You're not good at this, not good at admitting when you're not okay, not good at showing your hesitance.

The vibrator hums to life with a quiet buzz, low at first. He starts slow, teasing the inside of your thighs, moving closer to your hips, barely brushing against where you need him. Your body clenches, straining towards it instinctively. He watches you, eyes focused, reading every tiny twitch in your expression, every sharp intake of breath, every subtle, desperate movement of your body.

"No lying," he says, voice serious now. "I'll know."

You nod shakily.

His fingers hover near your skin, just enough to make you ache for his touch, but not enough to relieve the pressure building inside you.

"Beg."

"Please," you whisper, barely audible.

"Please, what?"

"Please touch me."

His smile deepens, satisfied, and he presses the vibrator firmly against your clit. Your hips jerk violently at the sensation. You need more, so much more, but it's too much at the same time. Your body can't decide what it wants.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and guttural.

He keeps the vibrations steady at first, gentle pulses that send waves of heat and discomfort through your body, your breath ragged, eyes shut tight. But then he turns it up, gradually increasing the intensity, and you feel like you're losing your mind.

Your body is already sensitive, already overstimulated from a long day at work dealing with insufferable customers, and the more he pushes, the more your thoughts scatter.

When the toy brushes lower, teasing your entrance, your body tightens reflexively. You flinch. You can't help it. The discomfort, the anxiety, it all hits at once.

He immediately pulls back, eyes narrowing as he watches you, still calm, still in control.

Your breath is shallow, your chest rising and falling too quickly, too erratically. You're embarrassed. This is not the reaction he was hoping for. He's watching you, scrutinizing you.

"That's a no, then?" he asks, voice still cool, but there's a hint of something else, a hint of curiosity.

You blink quickly, nodding hesitantly as you try to steady your breathing. Your chest is tight. Your hands are still fisted in the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but it's hard.

He clicks the vibrator off, the absence of the buzzing almost as deafening as the silence between you. He moves up the bed toward you, his gaze softening just a little, but the dominance in his posture remains.

"You should tell me when you don't like something," he tells you, voice low, almost like he's lecturing you, but there's no harshness in it. ''It's not my job to guess what you want. You've gotta speak up when things aren't okay."

Your throat tightens. "I didn't want to... disappoint you."

He laughs softly, not unkind but with an edge of exasperation. ''You're not a fucking robot, baby. Don't play me for one. I'm not paying for you to pretend.''

His bluntness cuts through the shame, leaving you raw, exposed.

"Let's continue," he announces, the smirk tugging at his lips. You nod, dazed, unable to think clearly.

He presses his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin with sharp little bites, and you gasp, your whole body reacting to him.

He doesn't give you time to recover before his hand disappears under the bed, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. The cold metal glints in the dim light, and your stomach plummets, dread pooling at the pit of your stomach. Your eyes flick to the cuffs, to him, to the way he's watching you, waiting. You don't want to seem weak. But the panic is rising, bubbling just under the surface.

He sees it. That flicker of fear. And to your shock, he tosses the cuffs aside without a second thought.

"No?" he says, arching a brow, the coolness of his voice making your heart beat faster. ''That's alright.''

You don't know whether you're relieved or disappointed. But you're grateful, more than anything, that he noticed. That he cared.

He shifts you, gently but firmly, positioning you on your stomach, ass up. He pins your hands behind your back, his grip firm but not painful, his fingers like iron. You can't move, can't escape, but it doesn't feel like punishment.

"This," he mutters, low and dark with satisfaction, his voice laced with something rough and possessive. "This I know you like."

You can't help the soft whimper that escapes your lips as his body presses against yours, grinding slow and punishing, drawing out each movement. Your mind starts to unravel as he moves over you, your body arching into him automatically, desperate for more.

Harry's hands let go of your hands and stroke slow along your arms, down your sides, grounding you in the bed's soft sheets. His touch is almost tender, but his voice stays steady, purposeful, like he's still holding back, still working toward something darker.

''Wanna try something,'' he mutters, his mouth brushing over your ear. ''Think you can handle that, baby?''

You hesitate, heart jumping a little too fast in your chest. But you nod, eager to please, eager not to disappoint him, even if there's a pit opening up inside your gut.

He notices the slight delay in your answer, a flash of reassurance passing over his face before he pushes up from the bed and retrieves something from one of the drawers in the nighstand beside his bed: a long strip of black silk. Smooth, intimidating.

You tell yourself you're fine. You tell yourself you can handle it.

He straddles your hips, pinning you lightly to the mattress with the weight of his body, and your breath catches when he brings the silk to your face, letting it ghost across your cheeks. He watches you, studying every twitch of discomfort, every tiny tremble of your lips, but when you don't say anything, he smiles, slow and satisfied.

"Good girl," he breathes, tying the blindfold tight around your eyes.

Darkness falls immediately. Your world narrows to the sound of your breathing, too loud in your ears, and the rough scrape of Harry's sweatpants against your bare skin.

You feel his hand trail down your side, but you can't see it coming, can't prepare for the way it jolts through your body, can't anticipate where he'll touch next. The loss of control makes your heart hammer faster, panic starting to simmer under the surface.

It's fine. It's fine.

Except it's not.

You can't see him. You can't read him. You can't breathe.

The air in the room feels too thick, too heavy. Your chest tightens, your hands gripping at the sheets helplessly, your body locking up beneath him. You try to stay quiet, you try not to ruin it, but your breathing gives you away, short, ragged little gasps that stutter out of you uncontrollably. The harder you try to stop it, the worse it gets.

At first, Harry doesn't notice. His hands are moving, teasing, rough and unrelenting, dragging noises out of your mouth you don't even recognize. But when you whimper softly, not in pleasure, but in fear, you feel him freeze above you. His body goes stiff. You realize, even through the roaring of your rapid heartbeat in your ears, that he's gone completely silent.

''Take the blindfold off,'' he commands sharply.

You struggle to move, shakily reaching up, but he swats your hands away and rips it off himself, tossing the silk onto the floor. His face is right there, inches from yours, his brow furrowed, his mouth drawn into a hard line.

''What the fuck do you think you're doing?'' he demands, voice low and cold and furious.

You flinch, shrinking down into the bed, heat flooding your cheeks in shame. You don't know what to say. You don't know how to fix it.

He sees the panic still written all over you, the way your hands are still trembling, the way you're practically vibrating with anxiety. His mouth curves into something crueler, something sharper, the fire of burning frustration clear in his eyes.

He's disappointed. You've responded poorly to nearly everything he's into. You bet he's offended. You bet he regrets picking you.

"You think I'm mad you're uncomfortable?" he growls, voice harsh enough to make your stomach drop, like he knows exactly what you were thinking and he doesn't like it. "I'm not mad you didn't like it. I'm mad you didn't fucking say so."

Your throat closes up, tears stinging behind your eyes, but Harry doesn't let up. He grabs your chin roughly in his hand, forcing your gaze up to meet his.

''You have a mouth. Use it. I'm very fucking strict about my safe words. You hear me?''

You nod quickly, shame burning through you, but it's not enough for him. Not nearly enough. He sits back on his heels, looming over you, voice cool and clinical like he's disciplining a disobedient pet.

"You're gonna sit there and answer me properly," he says, voice sharp enough to cut. "And you're gonna think about what you say. Understand?"

You nod, small and desperate.

"Use your fucking words."

"Yes, Harry."

"Good," he mutters, eyes narrowing.

He leans in a little, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding. His thumb strokes lazily over your pulse, feeling it race.

"What do you say," he begins, voice low, "if I've got my hand around your throat... just like this... and I'm fucking you slow, deep, making you feel so full you think you're gonna split apart... and it feels good, but my pace is leaving bruises? Hm?"

You blink up at him, breathing shaky. "Yellow." Slow down.

His mouth twitches, the ghost of a smile. "Good girl."

"What do you say if I'm making you suck me off, not letting you breathe, holding your head down, spit and tears dripping off your chin, and it starts feeling like too much at once?"

You shiver, heat flooding through your body at the image, even as shame creeps higher up your throat. "Yellow," you whisper.

"Louder."

"Yellow, Harry."

He nods, satisfied, squeezing your jaw in his hand.

"And what if I decide to cuff you to the bed," he murmurs, "and leave you there for hours. Touch you, tease you, never let you come. What then, hm? What if you realize you fucking hate it?"

Your breath stutters. "Red." Stop.

"Say it like you mean it."

"Red!"

"Good girl."

He shifts closer, his knees spreading your legs wider, his hand sliding dangerously low along your stomach, stopping just before your core.

"What if," he growls, "I'm slapping your clit, making you sob for it, and you're struggling to breathe?"

You flush so hard your vision blurs.

"Yellow," you stammer.

"Good girl," he praises darkly, the words sliding over your skin like a brand. "Now, what if I'm spanking you... so hard you can't tell if you love it or hate it... and you panic? What do you say?"

"Red!"

"And if you want to fucking leave?"

"Red, Harry, red!"

He pulls back finally, still watching you, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.

"You don't ever sit there like a dumb little doll and hope I notice," he says, voice cold and cutting. "If you feel it, anything, you say it. If you even think about feeling it, you say it. Got it?"

"Yes, Harry," you breathe.

His hand cups your cheek roughly, thumb pressing into the corner of your mouth until you open obediently for him. His face softens, barely, the smallest flicker of reassurance in his gaze.

"Good girl," he mutters. "That's better."

He doesn't touch you right away, just sits there, watching you through hooded eyes, the heat of his body wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Your chest is still heaving, nerves buzzing just under your skin, but you force yourself to stay still, to breathe. You've earned that tiny nod of approval, the glint of something warmer in his expression. You don't want to lose it now.

"Lie back," he says finally, voice low but not sharp anymore. You obey immediately, heart hammering, limbs trembling a little with the aftershocks of your panic and the brutal interrogation that followed. But he doesn't punish you for it. He doesn't mock you or push. Instead, his hands slide over your thighs, slow and steady, coaxing them apart with a patience that makes your breath hitch.

The first touch of his fingers is almost unbearably gentle, just the barest ghost of contact over your folds, tracing the wetness there like he's reacquainting himself with you. His thumb brushes your clit so lightly you barely feel it, and a broken sound escapes your throat.

"Shh," he murmurs, voice soothing. "We go slow. Yeah?"

You nod, desperate to be good, to show him you can handle it, and he rewards you by pressing a little more firmly, circling your clit in those slow, devastating spirals that make your hips twitch off the bed. His free hand anchors your thigh down, keeping you open, keeping you grounded.

He works you open with maddening care, two fingers sliding in eventually, curling shallowly inside you, his palm keeping constant pressure against your clit. Every movement feels deliberate, measured, for you, not for him. There's none of the bruising pace from before, none of the overwhelming force. Just the steady building of heat, the way your body starts to bloom under his touch.

At one point, you feel his mouth replace his hand, the scrape of his stubble against your inner thigh, the warm flick of his tongue over your clit making you whimper. He's thorough, almost clinical about it, not showy or indulgent, just focused, relentless, coaxing you higher and higher until your body locks up, shuddering through a release so gentle it almost feels like floating. He licks you through it, slow and steady, until you're gasping and twitching under him, pushing weakly at his shoulder.

He pulls back then, finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks at you, really looks at you, like he's checking that you're still whole.

"You did good," he says quietly as your eyes flutter closed. You feel the mattress shift when he gets up.

You barely register him moving around the room, but when you blink open your heavy eyes, there's a cold bottle of water being pressed into your hand. You clutch it gratefully, gulping it down while he disappears into the ensuite. A few minutes later, he comes back, tosses a towel onto the bed without a word, and jerks his chin toward the open bathroom door.

"Shower's yours."

You stumble toward it on shaky legs, grateful for the excuse to hide your face. His bathroom is ridiculously luxurious, heated floors, fluffy towels, expensive soaps that smell like cedarwood and spice. You take your time, letting the water wash away the sticky remnants of your anxiety, trying to piece yourself back together.

When you return to the bedroom, he's already under the covers, scrolling lazily through his phone like he hasn't just shattered you and stitched you back together in the same hour.

You hesitate for a moment, but he flicks the blanket up wordlessly, making room for you. Your heart swells a little, and you slip in beside him, careful not to touch him unless he invites it.

For a long moment, there's only the soft sounds coming from his phone, the quiet hum of the city outside his window.

But you can't help yourself. The questions bubble up, tentative and trembling, before you can think better of it.

"Harry?" you whisper.

"Hm?"

You pick at the edge of the blanket, voice barely audible. "Are you... seeing other people?"

He doesn't look at you. Just scrolls once more, then locks his phone and sets it on the nightstand. He turns his head toward you.

"No, baby," he says simply. "I told you this arrangement is exclusive. You're the only one."

Your breath catches.

"And... and how often would I... I mean, how often would you want to... see me?"

"Couple times a week. More, if you're okay with that."

"And... the payment?"

He smirks slightly. "We'll work that out. Money. Gifts. You can have whatever you like."

You chew your lip, heart pounding. "And if I... if there's something I can't do? Or I... I can't—"

"You say no," he interrupts bluntly. His voice is firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "You use your fucking words. I don't want your obedience unless you're giving it to me freely. Understand?"

You nod quickly, throat tight.

He watches you for a long moment, something shifting in his expression, almost imperceptible. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he says:

"Don't like when people fake things with me. Had enough of that for a lifetime."

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. You don't know the story behind those words. But you know it's not a conversation you're meant to push. Not tonight.

So you just murmur a soft "Okay", and burrow a little closer under the covers.

He doesn't touch you. But he stays close, close enough that the heat of him soaks into your skin, close enough that when you finally drift off, you swear you feel the edge of his pinky finger brush against yours, the smallest, secret tether.

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

sugar, baby series tag list

@indierockgirrl @prettygurl-2009 @cherryflavoredbyme @dipmeinhoneyh

general tag list

@2601-london @mads3502

...

[maskedbyghost]

Okay but I think it would be so fun for the roles to be flipped for once. A man flirts with out possessive reader and simon absolutely loses it. Tells her she belongs to him, maybe leaves a big ole lovebite on her neck. Ugh I need him

Alright, this one’s for all of you who wanted Simon to be just as possessive as the reader. I didn’t hold back here, did I? Hope this hits the spot! Let me know your thoughts in the comments, ly byee!

You were just going through the aisles, minding your own business, when it happened. You barely noticed at first, just some guy hanging around, trying to offer you help with a box of cereal. You smiled politely, not thinking much of it, but when you glanced over at Simon to tell him something, you saw his jaw tighten, his grip on the cart getting a little too hard. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that look. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

You didn’t really care when the guy leaned a little too close, standing too near you while you picked out what you needed. You knew Simon was behind you, just a few steps away, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, his eyes boring into the back of your head. The guy didn’t know it, but he was already in the danger zone.

The worst part? The guy was talking to you like he owned the place. Smiling too much, leaning into your space, trying to keep the conversation going like you were the one who wanted it. You saw Simon shift, his eyes narrowing, and you didn’t need to be looking directly at him to know that his patience was running out.

When you caught his eye again, he didn’t look mad, not exactly. He looked… frustrated. Frustrated in a way that you didn’t quite understand, at least not yet. You hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of Simon’s jealousy before, but you were starting to get it now. He didn’t want to share you, not even a little, and it made him uncomfortable in a way you hadn’t expected.

Before you could say anything, Simon was there. He didn’t make a scene, didn’t grab the guy by the collar or push him away. He didn’t even address him directly. All he did was slide his hand around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, just enough for the guy to see the way Simon looked at you, possessive and silent, his presence like a barrier.

But the guy didn’t get it. He tried to keep talking to you, but Simon wasn’t having it. Not once did he raise his voice; not once did he look at the guy. He simply turned his head and said one word, flat and cold: “Mine.”

You weren’t even sure if the guy heard him or not, but you saw his expression falter, a little unsure now. He stepped back, hands raised like he was trying to say ‘hey, no harm done,’ but the damage had already been done in Simon’s mind. That was the first time you realized just how much Simon hated the idea of anyone even thinking they had the right to get too close to you.

As the guy walked away, Simon didn’t let go of you. He just kept you right there, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His voice was low, just for you, but you heard every word. “Don’t know why I have to share you with the world,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he was angry at the universe itself. “They get the privilege of seeing you, but they won’t ever touch what’s mine.”

The words made you pause for a second, something heavy settling in your chest. “You’re not mad at me,” you said, almost a question. You were used to being the one who got possessive, who got territorial, but now… it was Simon. And it was different.

“No,” he muttered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the possessiveness behind it. “I’m not pissed at you.” He sounded almost… conflicted, like he was trying to get across something without making it seem like a big deal, but his anger was still there, simmering. “It’s just… I fucking hate the way everyone else gets to see you. I hate that I can’t keep you all to myself.”

Your heart raced, a little thrill running through you at the thought of Simon—normally so in control—suddenly feeling like he had to fight for you. You liked it. You liked that he couldn’t hide it, that this was the first time you’d ever seen Simon struggle with the fact that other people even noticed you. You could feel it in the way he kept you close, his hand tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

He wasn’t done, though. His voice came again, this time with a rough edge to it. “Every time someone thinks they can get too close to you, it just makes me want to remind them that you’re mine. And when I see you talking to someone like that…” He trailed off, his lips curling into a snarl. “I fucking lose it.”

You were too busy soaking it all in to answer at first, too caught up in the way his words made you feel. You weren’t used to him like this, so out of control, and you had to admit that part of you thrived on it. You were always the one getting possessive, but now, for the first time, it was his turn.

The tension between you both was thick, so thick you almost didn’t notice when he started pulling you toward the exit. You only realized what was happening when you were outside, the cool air biting at your skin, and Simon was already pushing you up against the side of the building, eyes wild with that possessive hunger you’d seen a hundred times before.

“Simon,” you breathed, but he wasn’t listening. He was too busy claiming you, lips crashing into yours, hands rough on your neck. He pulled you close, body pressed tight against yours, and you could feel all the anger in his kiss.

He didn’t stop kissing you and didn’t stop his hands from roaming your body. He was marking you, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. When he pulled back just enough to drag his teeth across your neck, you bit back a gasp, and that’s when he spoke again, voice low and dangerous.

“You think anyone else could ever have you like I do?” His voice was rough, filled with jealousy, but there was a dark satisfaction in it, too. He kissed you again, rougher this time, like he was trying to erase every trace of anyone else from your skin. “You’re not theirs to want. You’re mine in ways no one will ever understand.”

The words struck something deep inside of you. You could feel the weight of them, the truth in them, and your chest tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing hard against yours.

His hands roamed down your body again, finding that spot where your skin seemed to burn just for him. "No one will ever touch you the way I do. No one will ever make you feel like this. They can’t. They won’t."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in his hoodie as your body pressed against his even harder. "Simon, you—"

He cut you off with another deep kiss, his lips fierce and demanding. “You’re not just mine,” he murmured against your mouth, his breath ragged, “You belong to me. In every way that matters. And no one will ever be allowed to take that from me.”

His grip on you tightened, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, forcing your face upwards to meet his gaze. “Every time someone thinks they can just walk up to you, I’m going to remind them,” he snarled, his voice a dark promise. “You’re mine. And I’ll make damn sure no one gets the chance to look at you, touch you, or speak to you like that again. They’ll all learn the hard way that you don’t belong to anyone but me.”

Your heart raced, blood rushing in your ears. This wasn’t just possessiveness anymore—it was something deeper, darker. And for the first time, you felt the intensity of Simon’s own jealousy, something you hadn’t fully experienced before.

“Simon,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath, “I’m yours, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he growled, cutting you off, “I don’t have to do anything. But I will. And every single person who dares think they can come close to you will be reminded exactly who the hell you belong to.” He kissed you again, his lips pressing hard against yours, claiming you, his hands tight on your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was shallow, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. His fingers were tracing the line of your jaw as if he wanted to memorize every detail of your face. “I don’t share, sweetheart,” he whispered. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened with desire, the intensity of his words sinking into you. The way he spoke—like he was ready to fight for you, to own you in the most raw, primal way—made your heart race. You gripped him tighter, breathless with how much you wanted him.

"Fuck," you whispered, your voice heavy with understanding, "now I get it... why you get hard every time I show my possessive side." You smirked, feeling that rush of heat at the back of your neck. "You're just as insane as me, aren't you?"

Simon’s gaze darkened even more, if that was even possible. His lips curled into a grin, predatory and wild, his grip tightening on you. “You’re damn right I am.” He leaned in close, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. “And that’s why no one else will ever have you like this. Not now, not ever.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @bunnyxiis

[callsign-fox]

Dance with Me? - Bob/Robert Reynolds

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Fem!Reader/Superhero

Super fluffy, no warnings xo

I knew this movie would get me to write again, and I haven't even seen it yet! Don't worry, I am seeing it tomorrow ;)

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

Bucky’s apartment wasn’t home—but it was the closest thing to it. Nestled in a secured corner of Brooklyn, reinforced by his new position as a Congressman, it was a safe haven. A quiet place to hide. It was where Y/N had been laying low ever since she’d turned into a massive, flaming Phoenix above Manhattan—an event that had sent the world into a panic. The headlines hadn’t stopped. Neither had the government’s search.

The Phoenix inside her was too new. Too wild. Too dangerous. So, she stayed hidden. Waiting. Healing.

But that quiet broke the moment the Thunderbolts burst through Bucky’s door, weapons holstered but tension palpable—and someone new in their midst.

Something inside her shifted.

Light moved over her skin like a breeze—curious, tingling, alive. She felt it before she even saw him. From her place curled on the couch, Y/N lifted her head, gaze narrowing on the stranger. Her voice was calm, but her instincts were alert.

“Who's your new friend?”

“This is Bob,” Bucky replied casually, already heading toward the kitchen like this was just another Tuesday.

But Bob… wasn’t just another face.

Y/N’s eyes lingered longer than they should have. She could feel it—that coiled, restrained power humming beneath his skin. But deeper than that was something raw. Broken. Familiar.

He met her gaze, but didn’t smile.

She wondered if he felt her too.

Rising from the couch, Y/N moved a step closer, her voice soft. “He’s not like the rest of you.”

“No,” Yelena cut in, her eyes sharp. “Is this where you’ve been hiding the past few months?”

“Maybe,” Y/N answered, a sly grin tugging at her lips as she picked up her empty mug and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re a terrible government official,” Yelena called after Bucky. “Hiding a nuclear-level threat under your own roof. Cute.”

“I’m not a threat,” Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes.

Yelena mumbled something under her breath that Y/N chose to ignore. Bob quietly slipped into one of the armchairs while Yelena turned to the group.

“We’ve got things to discuss. Mind babysitting, Phoenix?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bob said, barely louder than a breath. But even he didn’t sound convinced.

Y/N moved back into the living room, her fingers trailing along the back of the couch as she sat, perching at its edge. Yelena took the hint and filed out, Bucky following her with a last glance.

“You two don’t get into any trouble,” he said before the door clicked shut behind him.

Silence settled over the apartment like dust in sunlight.

Y/N rose slowly, her bare feet brushing over the cool hardwood floor. She could feel him watching her—his presence tugging at something inside her chest. It was strange. Electric. Right.

“You don’t talk much,” she said quietly.

Bob’s voice was rough, but not unfriendly. “Not a lot to say.”

She didn’t push. Instead, she turned to the bookshelf, flipping through the records until her fingers landed on something smooth and timeless—Sam Cooke. She dropped the needle, and the music filled the apartment like warmth spilling from an open window.

Turning to face him, she lifted a brow. “When’s the last time you smiled?”

He blinked. “I don’t really know.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Well… I don’t know you yet, Bob, but I have a feeling I can fix that.”

She held out her hand. He stared at it, confused.

“What?”

“Dance with me?”

A flicker of something crossed his face—surprise, maybe. Hope. He didn’t move, not at first.

“You want me to dance with you?”

“You heard me,” she teased, her grin growing. “A pretty girl is asking you to dance, you’re not going to turn her down, are you?”

He opened his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to laugh—but no words came. Instead, he slipped his hand into hers and stood, slow and uncertain.

His hand was warm in hers. Solid. Real.

“One song,” she said softly. “No brooding. No worrying. Just… be human with me. Just for a moment.”

She guided him in, gently placing his hand on her waist, her other hand resting against his chest. It had been years since someone touched him like that—like he wasn’t dangerous. Like he wasn’t broken.

She moved first—swaying slowly, fluid and graceful. Bob was stiff at first, clumsy and hesitant, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t watching his feet.

She was watching his face.

“What are you, anyway?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

His eyes narrowed, shadows flickering behind them. “Something powerful. Too powerful.”

She studied him for a beat, then nodded with a hint of a smirk. “Sounds like you’d give me a run for my money.”

He gave a small shrug, unreadable. “Maybe.”

But he didn’t look away, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re allowed to let go sometimes you know,” she whispered, her breath brushing against his cheek. “I do.”

His eyes met hers, flickering with something fragile. “What happens if I let go… and everything falls apart?”

She tilted her head, inching closer. “Then we dance in the ashes.”

Something in him unraveled.

His shoulders dropped, his arm relaxed against her waist—and then, for the first time in what might’ve been forever, he smiled.

Y/N’s heart skipped, and she beamed back at him.

“There it is,” she said. “And it’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

His smile lingered, shy and uncertain, but real. Y/N felt it again—like a pull deep in her chest, a thread tying her to him. It wasn’t just the dance or the song. It was him. The quiet storm beneath his surface. The sense that somehow, even though they'd just met, he wasn’t a stranger.

Their movements slowed until they were barely swaying, just standing in each other’s space. Close. Breath mingling.

Her hand slid up from his chest to rest just over his heart. “That smile looks good on you.”

Bob looked down at her, his brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a rather difficult puzzle. “You feel… familiar,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent, like he was afraid of breaking whatever moment they’d stumbled into. 

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I was thinking the same thing.”

The air between them shifted—charged, magnetic. Her eyes flicked to his lips just as he leaned the smallest bit closer. His hand at her waist tightened, just slightly, anchoring them in that fragile, suspended second.

It felt like the world had gone still, like the Phoenix inside her was holding its breath.

Then—

Click.

The front door swung open.

“You leave them alone for five minutes,” Bucky’s voice filled the room, too casual and far too loud, “and they throw a damn prom.”

Y/N took a sharp step back, cheeks flushed, pretending she hadn’t just been about to kiss a man she’d known for less than an hour.

Bob ran a hand through his hair and turned away, the moment shattered like glass underfoot.

Bucky blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, voice an octave too high as she reached to turn off the record player. “Just... entertaining your guest.”

Bob sat back down without a word, his eyes carefully avoiding hers now, like if he looked again, he’d lean right back in.

Bucky raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Right. Well. We’ve got updates. Let’s all have a chat, shall we?”

Y/N nodded, but as she brushed past Bob on her way to the kitchen, her fingers grazed his—and just for a second, she felt that spark again. That pull.

Whatever this was between them—it wasn’t done yet.

[hughes-your-daddy]

he can’t find out

pairing: macklin celebrini x will smith reader sibling

summary: sneaking around with macklin is proving harder than you thought.

warning: a little angst/ hurt and comfort

“your gonna get me in trouble,” macklin whispers, half on gear, pinning you against the cold concrete wall of the arena.

“hey, you invited me tonight, i had to lie to will saying i got a spare ticket from your media girl.” you whisper back, his lips coming down to graze yours.

“come back to mine tonight yeh, i want you to stay over tonight.” he says and you bit back your bottom lip.

you had moved out to san jose, once you started college, moving in with will since he just got his own apartment. one thing you didn’t think would happen would be ending up in a secret relationship with his best friend.

“i’ll try ok? i’ll see if my friend will cover for me or something.” you say before he breaks out into a smile, coming down to press a kiss to your lips.

“ill see you tonight baby,” he whispers before he’s slipping away back to the locker room. you quickly slip back into the suite upstairs with the rest of the friends and family who come to watch, keeping to yourself, waiting for the boys to come out to warmups.

you always wear wills jersey, as you couldn’t wear macklins, but hidden underneath you always have on the small gold chain with a heart on the end, an M engraved on the inside.

he gave it to you a couple of months ago, halfway through the season after you made it official being boyfriend and girlfriend, a gentle reminder that your his, even if you can’t wear his name on your back.

the team come out for warmups where you move over to sit with cat, the only person to know about your relationship after you and mack had an argument and you had no idea idea who to go to. you crying on her couch however only led to tyler finding out as well.

“told him yet?” she asks, keeping her voice low when turning to you.

“not yet, think he’d kill mack.” you say, cat letting out a small laugh.

“better sooner rather than later though.” she says as you agree, knowing you should tell will, you’re just too nervous.

the sharks end up winning, you quickly head down out of the stands but not before being knocked into a railing by many drunk men. you wince at the pain, feeling your back ache before pushing it to the back of your head. everyone is on a high as they each come out of the locker room, grins wide on their faces. you smile seeing will and mack come out together, will pulling you into a tight hug, wincing but not letting him notice.

“good job will.” you smile, as he pulls away gushing about the game, mack pulling you into a small side hug like usual after games.

will was driving you both home, mack getting a lift from him as well, so you quickly make your ways out to his car, getting in and heading home, deciding not to see any fans today since you were so tired.

“hey, i think im gonna stay at my friends tonight.” you say, and you see mack look up from the backseat through the car mirror.

“yeh, that’s fine,” will smiles before looking over at a red light, “you need a ride?” he asks and you shake your head no.

“nah, she’s coming to pick me up.” you say, mack’s eyes widening before looking back down before will can see.

he drops mack off at the thorntons before driving round to the apartment. your quick inside, going straight to your room, packing some clothes and toiletries in an overnight bag even though you have a few bits already at the guest house.

you move to change out of your jersey and jeans before realising it hurts too much to lift your arms up. you sigh before forgetting about changing and just decide to change your shoes to some sliders and tying your hair up before your phone pings.

mack

i’m outside now baby

you smile, before quickly grabbing your bag and heading out.

“i’ll be back tomorrow will,” you call out to the living room where he’s already in pyjamas movie on with some leftovers.

“message me if you need anything,” he replies before you’re leaving and heading down in the elevator. you leave the complex before spotting macklins car just around the corner from the entrance.

you open the back doors, placing your bag in before moving to the passengers side. you slide in, mack smiling, dressed in his own sweats and a hoodie before frowning at your tshirt.

“thought you would have gotten changed.” he says, as you laugh at how stroppy he gets when you wear wills jersey and not his.

“i lost track of time,” you lie but smile through pretending like you just ran out of time. he changed back to a smile landing over to press his lips to yours.

“mmh,” you hum as he pulls away, “the quicker we get to yours, the quicker i can be in your clothes,” you tease, knowing his favourite thing is seeing you swamped in his clothes.

“don’t need to tell me twice baby,” he whispers against your lips before pressing another kiss to them and pulling away, lacing your hands together.

the drive to his place is quick, letting the radio play softly in the silence of the night, a few cars passing as he makes his way to the thorntons.

he pulls into the driveway before hopping out and grabbing your bag, coming around to swing his arm over your shoulders.

you wince at the pain that runs down your spine at his action, but you manage to play it off before he notices. yous walk around the back through the gate to the guest house, mack unlocking the front door letting you inside.

you slide your shoes off, about to slide off your jacket when you feel macklins arms snake around your waist, his head nestling in your neck.

“i love you baby,” he mumbles against your skin pressing soft kisses up your neck. you tilt your head slightly to give him more access, a soft moan slipping past your lips.

“love you too mack,” you whisper before he’s spinning you around his mouth grazing yours, “god i’ve missed you.” he whispers letting his lips press to yours.

you giggle pulling away, your arms wrapping around his neck, “i saw you like 4 hours ago.” you smile before he’s attaching his lips to yours again.

he groans low in his throat, lifting you effortlessly, like you weigh nothing. your legs wrap around his waist without thinking, as he stumbles backward, dropping down onto the big sectional couch with you in his lap.

“pretty girl,” he whispers, hands running up your jersey, running over your waist.

you arch into him, gasping as his mouth finds yours again, harder this time. his hands shift, one gripping your thigh, the other slipping higher under your jersey, feeling the hunger in him, the way he wants you, real and burning and unstoppable.

“mack,” you moan out, feeling his hand move to squeeze your ass as his lips slip down your neck again.

you shift your hips, grinding down against him, mack by growling, deep and rough, one hand sliding up your back, as he flips you so your laying against the couch, him hovering over top.

that’s when you feel it, the sharp pain run up your spine, all across the middle of your back.

you gasp pulling away and freezing, eyes shut in pain.

he immediately pulls back, hand coming up to cup face

“baby?” his voice calls out, filled with worry, “what’s wrong? talk to me.” his eyes scanning your face for an answer.

“m-my back, shit,” you mumble, “my back hurts.” you get out, open n your eyes to see his face change into an instant state of panic.

“okay, okay, don’t move baby, just stay there.” he says quickly moving off of you, to kneel down beside your head, his hand cradling your cheeks turning your face to look at him.

“where? baby, tell em where it hurts, how bad?” he asks, hands almost hovering, like you are so fragile.

“like the middle of my back, goes up my spine,” you say, mack nodding as he pushes a few strands of hair back out your face, “mack it really hurts.” you whisper, tears springing to your eyes.

“i’m so sorry baby, i-i didn’t meant to hurt you,” he says, voice filled with panic, as his hand shakes gently against your cheeks turning, “ i-i didn’t mean to i just-“ he starts but uh cut him off, grabbing his hand with yours.

“mack, stop.” you say, his rambling coming to a harsh stop at your words, eyes finding yours in confusion, “i got knocked into a rail at the game, didn’t think it was much of an issue.” you mumble, seeing macklin’s jaw tense, not in anger but over how protective he is of you.

“baby, why didn’t you say anything? does will know?” he asks, hands not leaving yours, his thumb brushing ver your knuckles as you shake your head a few tears falling

“i didn’t think it was this bad.” you say, taking a shaky breath.

“ok you stay there, i’ll be back in a minute.” he says quickly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing.

he comes back with an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel, a bottle of water and some pills in his hand.

“ok baby, you think you can sit up at all?” he asks, setting them down on the small coffee table table.

you give him a small nod, as he gently helps you to sit up, one hand on your lower back the other on your arm to help.

“take these for me, should help the pain.” he says, handing over the two pills and water. you quickly take them before he’s sitting right where your head was.

he helps you lay back down, sideways, your he’s in his lap, as he gently lifts up your jersey to lay the ice on your back, immediately sighing in relief.

“that better baby?” he asks, one hand holding the ice against your back the other running through your hair, taking out your hair tie.

you nod, wiping your cheeks of the few tears before he’s pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“just relax baby, we’ll leave the ice there for like 20 mins,” he says, eyes still filled with worry, “wanna order some takeout maybe?” he asks and you nod as he fishes his phone his pocket, ordering your go to comfort food.

yous lay there, letting macklin talk about the game, distracting you before the food arrives, mack going out to get it. he helps you to sit up against the couch before going to grab the food. he’s quick, being back and sat next to you pulling out your food.

“hey, do you mind if i get changed first?” you ask, macklin nodding with a soft smile.

“need any help?” he asks and you think for a moment before nodding shyly. he presses a soft kiss to your temple before helping you stand, hands softly on your waist as you walk to his room.

he pulls out some of his sweats and hoodie, helping you out of your jeans and jersey before slipping the sweatpants on.

“want your bra off baby?” he asks as you nod, a small blush coming across your cheeks. he gives you a comforting smile before quickly unclasping your bra, seeing a large bruise starting to form across your back.

“if it gets worse in the morning we’ll have to go to the doctors i think baby, looks pretty bad.” he sighs, fingers grazing over the bruise.

“i think it’s just a bump, i should be fine.” you say, giving him a reassuring smile before he carefully slides on the hoodie.

“that better?” he asks, hands cradling your cheeks, and you nod.

“come on then, we’ll go eat.” he smiles, offering you a hand to help you up over to the couch. setting back against the cushions, you lift your feet up to lay across mack’s lap, one hand running up your legs as you both eat.

he plays some disney movie, a comfort thing for both of you, placing the empty dishes on the coffee table when his phone starts ringing.

wills name across the screen.

“don’t you dare.” you glare across the mack but not quick enough as he’s reaching across and answering the face time.

“hey will,” he says slightly nervous.

“hey, just wondering is y/n has contacted you? i just bumped into her friend when picking up some food, says she’s not staying with her? i’m getting worried, she’s not answering.” will says slightly panicked as mack’s eyes drift over to you.

you shake your head, sending him another glare before wills voice is coming out through the phone

“macklin? do you know something?” he asks, before mack mouths ‘in sorry,’ you sighing.

“she’s here will, perfectly safe.” macklin says, short and sweet before a moment of silence.

“why’s she with you? is she ok?” he asks rushed again, hearing shuffling on the other end.

“she’s fine, here.” he says, flipping the camera to show you.

you awkwardly wave after hearing another silence.

“is that your hoodie?” he asks, stopping moving as you look down seeing yourself wearing a sharks hoodie.

“uh yeh i think so,” macklin nervously laughs, turning the camera back to himself.

“i swear to god macklin, you better not be fucking my sister.” will says and your eye widen immediately knowing that tone, a one he uses very rarely.

“hey dude, it’s not like-“ macklin starts but wills quick to cut him off.

“no, don’t fucking dude me. what the fuck man? i said one rule, my sisters out of bounds. i’m on my way over.” he says, nearly shouting down the phone before handing up.

you immediately try to move standing up, wincing a little.

“i need to go, need to talk to will.” you say trying to move around but each step is building the pain.

“y/n, stop.” macklin says firmly, taking your shoulders in his hands, holding you in place, “we would have had to tell him at some point, now just seems like the time.” macklin says as you nod hesitantly.

you take a breath before moving to sit back on the couch, macklin trying to tidy things up a bit, as much as wills his best friend, right now he’s the brother of his girlfriend, needs to make a good impression.

you snap out of your day dream hearing angry knocks the door. you see mack take a breath, himself, before opening it, immediately being met with a smack across the face.

“what the fuck macklin.” will shouts, you immediately panicking.

“will stop please.” you plead from the couch, his eyes flickering to yours before back to macklin.

“do you know how wrong this is, you betrayed me macklin, i said, no messing with my sister and you just went and did it anyway?” he shouts, macklin coming back strong.

the arguing goes back and forwards between the two as you start to see a small red mark appear on his face. it just keeps intensifying, as you feel yourself tear up becoming too overwhelmed.

you quickly grab your phone and slip out, neither of them releasing, moving to sit on the curb, forgetting about the pain and shakily calling cat.

it only takes a few rings before she’s picking up, her voice coming through.

“y/n?” she asks, voice tired, probably just woke her up.

“cat?” you ask, your voice wavering and you hear her immediately sitting up, more attentive.

“y/n? what’s wrong?” she asks, as you hear tys voice in the back.

“it’s will and mack, he found out and they’re arguing, i-i just i need to get away.” you say, a few tears falling, hearing her move, grabbing some keys by the jingling noise.

“y/n im on my way, you at mack’s?” she asks as you let out a small ‘yeh’, before she’s hanging up the phone immediately driving over.

you curl up on the curb, letting the tears fall freely before a cars pulling up outside, cat and tyler immediately coming over.

“i don’t know what happened, will came in, hit back and they just started arguing.” you rush out, cat pulling you in for a tight hug, tyler immediately going out back to cool off the two boys.

“come on, you can stay at ours for the night.” cat smiles, wiping your cheeks before leading you to the car, letting you in the passenger seat before driving away, saying tyler will be a while.

she drives you back to their house, letting you inside before leading you up to the guest bedroom, both of you sitting on the bed.

“he’ll get over it trust me, probably just a bit of a shock.” cat says, offering a sympathetic smile, you shrugging.

“i’ve never seen him like that, neither of them, i thought he was actually gonna like really hurt him.” you say, voice getting small, at the thought.

her phone bings, a message from tyler.

“wills bringing him back home, you wanna speak to him?” she asks and you think for a second before nodding.

“yeh, but if it’s ok, i’ll still stay here tonight i think.” you say as she nods, before leaving, giving you some privacy.

it isnt long before there’s some soft knocks at the door, before opening it to show wills face peaking in. you see him hesitate to say something before moving inside, perching at the end of the bed.

he looks up and that’s when you can see the black eye forming on his face.

“i don’t like it when you yell.” you whisper, his face softening. he moved to be sat beside you against the headboard, letting his head fall back.

“if it cheers you up, i think he won.” he mumbles making you chuckle slightly.

you turn your body to face him better, wincing slightly at your back.

“you know i love him right?” you ask, his head falling sideways to look at you.

“yeh, think i got that, and i think i understand he loves you too, especially after this,” he says motioning his black eye, making you chuckle slightly, “but you also know i love you right?” he asks sitting up better.

“yeh, i know,” you smile resting your head on his shoulder.

“and i guess i could be cool with it, like you and mack,” he says, fighting a small smile on his face, “but if you hurts you, he’ll never forget it on the ice ok?” he says and you nod, just enjoying the peace for a second.

“he said you hurt your back, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, you pulling your head back up to look at him.

“i didn’t think much of it to be honest, just got in the way of some drunk men.” you say seeing his jaw tense in a little bit of anger towards the men not you.

“how are you feeling now?” he asks, eyes searching your face for any lies.

“better, mack iced it but still hurts a bit.” you admit, will thinking for a second before nodding letting out a soft sigh.

“message me tomorrow yeh? if it’s still bad ill drive you to the doctors, i dont have morning skate so im free.” he says you smiling with a small nod.

“as you later baby sis.” he smiles, pressing a quick kiss to your head before turning to leave.

“wait, will?” you call out, him turning over his shoulder, “you didn’t hurt mack right?” you ask, concern laced through your voice.

he gives a soft chuckle before shaking his head, “nah, trust me i got it worse and im still walking, i got barely any punches in.” he says, as you try to hide a smile but seem to fail.

“wow, even my sister isn’t on my side.” he teases, a wide grin on his own face, “but maybe call him, or message? i think he’s a bit worried.” he says as you nod before he leaves.

you look over to your phone, having had it turned off all night, quickly entering your password to see missed calls and texts from both will and mack.

you hesitantly press the facetime button in mack’s contact, his face popping onto the screen straight away.

“oh my god baby, are you ok?” he panics, and you take in his appearance, only a small red mark that’s already fading from where will smacked him but his eyes red rimmed like he’d been crying.

“no mack, im ok please don’t worry,” you say but you can still see his face full of concern, “i just got a bit overwhelmed, i don’t like people arguing.” you mumble, resting you head on your hand.

“i’m sorry, i-“ he starts before taking a breath, “i really love you, and i wasn’t gonna let him come between us ok? your brother my best friend none of that would stop what we have ok?” he says and you nod a soft smile on your face.

“you love me so much that your willing to punch my brother in the eye?” you ask as he feeezes, eyes wide.

“so you’ve spoken to him?” he mumbles as you laugh.

“well, i’ve seen him and that was enough.” you say, macklin smiling himself.

“hey, i’d do anything for you baby.” he smiles, your heart fluttering a bit.

“i know macky.”

[puck-luck]

He’s insufferable. He’s horrible. You hate your boyfriend, you actually hate him, and it’s all because he’s so much better at waiting than you are. 

You blame it on his ability to wait through both Quinn’s and Luke’s games. Maybe he’s patient because he had to go on all of those long road trips with his parents for his travel games. Maybe it was waiting through the tourneys themselves. 

Either way, Jack is fucking smug as he watches you squirm above him. 

He’s really beautiful like this, honestly. His hair is as messy as it always is, long and brown with a jagged part just slightly off-center. The waves, barely wavy at all, flop over the right side of his forehead for a few seconds longer before Jack brushes them back like he’s about to hide them under a hat. He’s got a pimple right near his temple, which’ll probably turn angry at red tomorrow morning after he notices it and starts to pick at it. 

You do just about everything you can to avoid his eyes. You know it’ll just make you more desperate if you look into the blue depths.

You thumb over his Adam’s apple, resting for a moment on the point of it before moving to the columns of his neck. One of your hands works around to his nape, running your fingers through the hair there. You get caught on a knot and brush it out, pressing your lips together to avoid an amused smile at Jack’s exaggerated wince. He’s such a baby.

You think about pressing a sweet kiss to Jack’s button nose, which is tinged pink like his cheeks and spotted with almost invisible freckles, faded into a tan that he’s been perfecting since he suddenly found a boatload of free time. He twitches his nose like a bunny would when you trace a finger over the ridge. It’s a simple act, aiming to draw a laugh from you, and he succeeds. 

Out of habit, you find your way to his eyes. Yours meet the gorgeous blues that you’d fallen in love with ages ago and they’re no less hypnotizing than the first time you saw them. You fall straight into them, gaze filing through the shades of blue and green that decorate Jack’s irises. 

Unfortunately, you’re now trapped. You can’t look away.

“There’s my baby,” Jack teases. “Long time, no see.”

You find that old annoyance creeping back in. He’s got you seated on his lap, cock buried deep inside of you, and he just wants you to sit there. He doesn’t want you to move, he doesn’t want you to come, and he doesn’t even want you to feel good. He just wants you to be.

Infuriating. Unfair. Miserable.

You frown at Jack, bottom lip jutting out slightly. “I’m right here,” you grumble. “Been here all along.”

“Yeah, sweet thing, but you’ve been ignoring me,” Jack replies. He tilts his head to the side and matches your pout. “So warm around me, but you’re barely even enjoying it like I am.”

“It wasn’t my idea to cockwarm you until we’re ready for bed,” you remind him.

“But you didn’t say no,” Jack tells you. “I think you said an emphatic yes, actually.”

“I wouldn’t say my yes was emphatic.”

“Enthusiastic.”

“I was enthusiastic after you said that you’d make sure I felt good.”

“You don’t feel good?” Jack asks. He sinks his fingers into your ass cheeks and rocks you forward, changing the position only a bit and providing a semblance of friction before settling you back down. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m almost ready.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble under your breath, eyebrows drawn together angrily.

Jack quirks one of his. “You don’t like the feel of my cock inside you?”

He’s being unfair again, asking you a biased question that he knows you can’t say no to. Of course you like having his cock inside of you, but you like it more when it’s fucking in and out of you and rubbing against all of your sweet spots.

You wiggle on his lap, trying to goad him into doing something. 

Jack keeps his hands on your behind, blinking up at you with a pleased smirk tugging at his lips. He makes no move to satisfy you.

“Jack,” you complain, indignant and getting truly frustrated.

“Look at you,” Jack observes in a soft and reverent voice. A blush blooms in your cheeks and travels down to where your heart pounds in your chest. “So desperate for my cum, angel. I’ll give it to you, right where you want it… right in this pretty pussy. You want me to pump my cum into you, don’t’cha?”

“Yes,” you mumble sheepishly, like an embarrassed child. He’s so annoying. You don’t like him… except that you really, really do.

“Be sweet and ask me for it then,” Jack tells you. “Go ahead. I’m listening.” He looks at you and waits and now you’re really struggling to find your voice. 

This might never end, not with the renewed pressure Jack put on you to beg prettily enough to deserve his seed.

[hedwig221b]

Hiii, I love ur work. U r an amazing writer but now they leaving me wanting more. I’m not sure if you’ve done this already but do u have any recs for size difference sterek? Please and thank u!! ❤️

Thank you! Most of these are pwp but maybe that's a plus lol

Compatibility by SinQueen69

Only compatible Alpha’s and Omega’s smell good to each other, everyone else smells awful so when Derek and Stiles scent each other in the woods that day, they can’t stay away.

The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams

Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway… right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.

so now you've got the best of me (come on and take the rest of me) by mangotangos

"It doesn't matter how hot Derek is, how Stiles barely comes up to his shoulders or how Derek's hands could probably fit really snugly around his waist. None of it matters, because he's basically a glorified babysitter for the foreseeable future and Stiles wants him out. Operation annoy Deputy Derek Hale into leaving begins now." ~or, the one where Stiles' dad hires Deputy Derek to be Stiles' bodyguard, Stiles hates him on principle and then 2 seconds later falls in lust (and love) and tries to seduce him into bed with his sexual prowess.

Cherry by j560

"He promised himself he wasn’t going to think about Derek at all when he got it done. That he wasn’t picking this piece out because red was Derek’s favorite color. But he couldn’t stop himself from hoping maybe this time Derek would notice and say more than two words about his new piercing. That he would take Stiles seriously for once, and recognize all the newfound confidence Stiles could feel himself thriving off of. He hoped Derek would do something other than stare." OR Stiles keeps getting piercings until one sends Derek over the edge.

The Wolf God by SinQueen69

A magical barrier kept the Wolf God Derek safe when his Rut hit, but it unexpectedly allows a human through.

reverence by pocarisu_danshi

"Morning.” Stiles says, still sleepy. He’s fucked out tired and loose and sluggish, up most of the night until he’d passed out onto the pillow they shared. Derek rumbles a response, the timbre of his voice low and strong. “Morning.” He bends and kisses Stiles’ forehead, who takes the kiss with his eyes slipping half closed and a hum in his throat. Derek regards him. Focused on Stiles like he sometimes gets, eyes mottled and gold but not demanding.

I’m Knot A Pretty Boy by KnottheWolf

Day 8: Size Difference- “Do you always offer rides to strangers.” Derek grunts, wishing he could cross his arms but is stuck standing there staring at the Alpha. “Only the pretty ones.” Derek feels his cheeks go impossibly red at that, his ears burning up like candlesticks as he thinks on those words, he’s never been called pretty before. Handsome. Yes. But pretty? Nobody ever called him pretty; Derek was hairy, muscular and tall. Qualities that were often looked down upon on Omegas whether they be male or female, society had such constraint views on what an Omega should and shouldn’t look like. Often times he was mistaken for a Beta, once in awhile an Alpha, but when it was discovered he was actually an Omega people seemed to walk around him like he was a pariah.

Don't Be Cocky by Spindiver

For reasons, Derek wants to get a Prince Albert piercing. The only shop in town belongs to Stiles Stilinski. Who knew that Derek's life of lonely isolation was about to get a proper shake-up? “Hey”, he says, in greeting, “what can I help you with, this morning?” Given the man’s size and somewhat surly demeanour, Stiles is not expecting the voice of the giant to be so measured and polite. “My name’s Derek Hale, I have an appointment booked for 11 o’clock.” “Right”, says Stiles, coming out from behind the counter, he gestures towards his workspace, one of three rooms off the lobby of the shop. “Come on through, my name’s Stiles, I run this place. I have to confess, the appointment book didn’t say what you were after.” He raises an eyebrow at the man, now sitting gingerly on the padded worktable in the middle of the room. He’s starting to look ever so slightly uncomfortable. “Oh, I um…I’m looking to get a Prince Albert”, he mumbles.

Don't Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property. Except, apparently, Stiles. Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

Only Me

He held Stiles’ face like it was the most precious thing and licked Stiles’ neck like he owned it. A kiss was the first thing to greet Stiles in the mornings they spent together, and at nights, it was the last thing he felt on his face. Each time was more desperate than the last. Derek told him he was made to be kissed. It was a reward, a pleasure, a relief. And then, after all of this, he would disappear. For two days, three, or for a week. Stiles would choke from the thought that this time he definitely ruined it (how? god, how?), and then, in a click of a light, Derek would come back as if he were always there. Calling from a hidden number, cupping his chin, tugging Stiles closer with his hand splayed on his back, so big and insistent. Kissing, loving, refusing to let go. But only in a closed room, in the darkest corner of a restaurant, in a black sports car with its windows thick and tinted. Stiles dreaded saying goodbye.

Desperate

Derek understood perfectly well how young Stiles was. Just how many times did he stop himself from digging his teeth into that lovely neck to claim him? Maybe, next time he shouldn’t. The thought, wild and sudden, came to him, and once it did, there was nothing he could do to get rid of it. If he got Stiles pregnant, then the omega would be his. Fully his. They would be bound for life. Stiles wouldn’t refuse the mating bite, then. Stiles was his omega. Derek would do anything to keep him. Anything.

Untouchable

The day Stiles Stilinski entered the Berkeley campus was the day all the alphas went absolutely fucking nuts. See, omegas were rare, even more than redheads. Got to be extremely fucking lucky to even see one in a lifetime. They were supposed to be these ethereal creatures of beauty and elegance, irresistible and blinding. And Stiles Stilinski was exactly that.

Treasure

"I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

[masterlist link]

[beomiracles]

The summary had me hooked from the start. No more words needed I fear. LETS GET TO IT!

Yeonjun as his support system is,, something! No but he’s so cute for cheering his friend on jsjsjn,, and kai is endearing for freaking out like this. — Kai’s eyes bug out. “Now?! I’m not ready!”

I’ve been in love with you for years, I can’t imagine my life spent beside anyone but you, and I really hope you’ll be my girlfriend. — MY MAN HAS THE CUTEST LITTLE SPEECH PREPARED SOMEONE SAVE ME.

“Do you wanna hook up with me?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking. CUT THE CAMERAS. Im grabbing my face in agony for this man. — You shrug. “Alright, we can hook up.” OH HELL YEAH

His hands start moving down your body, dipping below your shirt to hold onto your bare waist. Your skin is warm and soft, and it feels like territory that Kai needs to explore. — genuinely love this last line like… omg. 

He’s so pathetic it’s insane I love it give him to me this instant. Acting all cute and stuff like he isn’t the biggest freak who wants to be fucking choked, STAND UP. 

If you want him to be quiet and lay down like a toy, he’ll be ten steps ahead of you, leaning back on the mattress waiting to be used. If you want him to throw you around and treat you like a whore, he’ll show you strength like no one else has. — I love a diverse man. 

“So bad I could cry,” he says. You laugh, and he panics. “Then cry.” — PLEASE HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT MY (very obvious) DACRYPHILIA KINK? 

Your eyebrows are upturned, eyes glazed over with lust, and suddenly you look a lot less like a hungry wolf and more like a poor little lamb. — I love this switch jsjjsn. 

Yeonjun doesn’t understand what it’s like to feel even a quarter of the yearning Kai holds for you. — men who yearn…

Him going to get palm readings is such a side quest I love it so much you have no idea!! — “This one means you like long walks on the beach. And this one means you want to go back to the car and give me head.” Oh hell yeah we’re smooth with it 

You smile at him. “Is that all you want to say?” you ask. BROTHER TELL HER. It’s eating me alive, get the truth out there.. “That’s all,” Kai says. Wrap it up. 

“So act like it. Pick yourself up and go to her like a man. Quit ruining your own life—she’s not gonna want some bum who can’t even work up enough courage to say he loves her, — genuinely golden advice, get this man a mic and on a podcast right now. 

You smile. It’s breathtaking. “I know. Yeonjun told me.” My man snitched… — “Why did he tell you?” — “In case you pussied out. Which you did,” you answer. “And because he knew I’m in love with you too.” AW WAIT IM GIGGLING. 

“Yeah, fuck, come fuck me,” Kai begs just as breathlessly. STOP THAT. 

Kai will dedicate his every next breath to you. He’s yearned and longed for years, with a force much stronger than a human heart has. — no like I love it. I love this. 

I am the BIGGEST ‘mean who yearn’ enthusiast. I love it, I love when they chase, when they’re pathetic and disgustingly dumb in love. KAI I NEED YOU IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. The dynamics between them was so perfectly written and executed, the fic was also so lighthearted and easy to read despite kai crashing out at least three times. And wingman yeonjun?? Squee where would we be without him?? I really like the small addition of them going to do palm reading, it’s an extra scene that adds so much dimension and depth to the fic and I loved the mc’s quick wit and sarcasm,, seriously I love this so much !! 

pining with a hundred hearts

summary: Confessing to you should be easy. Kai’s got his whole speech prepared, having gone over it about a million times in his head now. All he has to do now is say it exactly as rehearsed. As long as he keeps his cool and doesn’t veer off script, or say something stupid and thoughtless like—“Do you wanna hook up?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

…Yeah. Like that.

pairings: huening kai x fem!reader

word count: 11.3k

tags: fluff, smut (mdni), friends to lovers, best friend!kai, yeonjun being a mediocre wingman and the biggest dudebro on earth, kai is a ball of anxiety, a couple religious metaphors, incredible amounts of pining

smut tags: multiple smut scenes… this is only like one step above pwp okay, switch!kai, switch!reader, dry humping, choking (m rec.), unprotected sex, oral (f rec.), car sex, sooo muchhh kissinggg, praise, spit kink kinda, handjob for a second, multiple orgasms

notes: thanks again to this anon for the idea! yes this is another best friend fic i’m sorry i can’t help that this is what calls to me. anyway i hope u luv thisssss!

Kai’s staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, wondering if he should go run and buy flowers or if that would be too corny. He examines his appearance with a critical eye, not wanting to look the slightest bit unattractive when he sees you. A small strand of hair falls into his face, and he pushes it back until he looks perfect again. He tries to imagine how he’d look with a bouquet in his hand.

“Dude, the harder you try, the worse you look.” Kai turns to Yeonjun with a frown, putting his hand back to his side and releasing the imaginary flowers. He deflates when he sees Yeonjun’s unamused expression.

“I’m not good at this stuff like you, though. I don’t know how to ask girls out,” Kai says, moving to sit beside Yeonjun on the edge of the bathtub. He brought Yeonjun here to cheer him on, not to make him feel worse about himself. Kai’s confidence is dwindling the longer he spends in Yeonjun’s presence.

Yeonjun ruffles Kai’s hair, and Kai immediately swats his hand away, scolding him for ruining the hair he had perfectly in place. Kai stretches his neck out to look at himself in the mirror again. He pouts when he sees the mess Yeonjun made.

“Just be normal. She’s your best friend, she’s not gonna bite your head off,” Yeonjun reasons.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kai says. “Her biting my head off might actually be better. I’m scared of her rejecting me.”

Yeonjun smiles at Kai, making Kai scrunch his brows. It feels like there’s some joke he’s not in on. Before he can ask, Yeonjun’s pushing himself up and off the bathtub, stretching out his legs. Kai looks up at him, wondering how to be even half as carefree as him.

“I’m exhausted,” Yeonjun sighs, looking out the window. Kai doesn’t know what for—only twenty minutes have passed, it definitely wouldn’t be dark out yet. “Let’s just go to her place now.”

Kai’s eyes bug out. “Now?! I’m not ready!”

Yeonjun laughs, “I can promise you that she doesn’t care how you look.” He leaves the bathroom then, and Kai feels like he has no choice but to follow.

He’s so worried, he can’t stop thinking about how you might react to his confession. What if you don’t feel the same? That would crush Kai, but he would never make you feel like you have to say yes to him. He just really, really wants the feeling to be mutual.

Suddenly he’s walking outside with Yeonjun, and he knows exactly where Yeonjun plans on taking him. He recites his confession under his breath, making sure he remembers it all still. I’ve been in love with you for years, I can’t imagine my life spent beside anyone but you, and I really hope you’ll be my girlfriend. Whew, he’s still got it.

“Stop freaking out so much,” Yeonjun says from beside him, snapping Kai back to reality. He blinks at his friend, processing what he said for a few seconds.

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Yes you are, dude. You’re, like, hyperventilating next to me.”

“Oh god, I’m hyperventilating?!” There’s no way he can confess to you like this! He imagines how gross it would be for you to hear him declare his love for you through jagged breaths. He turns around abruptly, ready to walk back home.

Yeonjun stops him with a hand gripping his shirt. “No backing out,” he says, pulling Kai back to him.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Kai says, shaking his head with panicked eyes.

Yeonjun grounds Kai with his hands on his shoulders, making sure he’s looking him in the eyes. “If you don’t do this today, you never will. I’m not letting you walk away now.”

Kai sighs and drops his head in defeat. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go.”

Time passes way too quickly, and Kai finds himself standing at your door much too soon. Yeonjun abandons him as soon as your apartment is in sight, telling Kai he’ll be waiting for his success story when he comes back. Kai’s heart is pounding. He really hopes there ends up being a success story to tell.

He’s scrambling around for the words in his brain, making sure he doesn’t choke on them as soon as you open the door. I love you, I don’t want anyone but you, please be my girlfriend—something like that. He’s in the midst of a breathing exercise to calm himself down when the door swings open. He flinches, straightening his posture and sending you a smile.

“Hi Kai,” you say, backing up so he’ll come inside. Is he shaking? It feels like he’s shaking.

“Hi. I have something to tell you.” He wants to slap himself. Why'd he say it like that?! Does he think he’s the grim reaper or something, delivering some message of death?! He sounds so ominous, you must be so scared.

“Alright, let’s go to my room then.” You don’t sound shaken at all. You must be really good at hiding that you’re scared.

When he’s sitting across from you on your bed, he can clearly feel the way his body’s shaking. He almost wants to jump off the mattress so you don’t feel the way he trembles. You’ve done this a million times before, sharing your bed and staring at each other, but it feels so different this time.

You look around the room awkwardly in the midst of Kai’s prolonged silence, then start scrolling through your phone. You’re bored—he’s boring you, he needs to get on with it, this is already going wrong.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to him. He opens his mouth and already starts stuttering on his words. He shuts up immediately, racking his brain for his confession again, and freaking out when he can’t find it.

“Kai? What’d you wanna tell me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He just has to spit it out now. He can’t waste your time any longer. He prays the words will just find him if he opens his mouth and starts speaking.

“Do you wanna hook up with me?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

Fear crashes upon him so fast. That’s not what he meant to say. He feels the world crumbling around him, and he prays the universe is kind enough to swallow him whole.

Your silence is horrifying him, but he can’t blame you. He should probably see himself out now. You aren’t going to want anything to do with him ever again.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” you ask.

Kai gulps. “Um, yes.”

You look him up and down. “You’re shaking so much.” Kai looks down at himself to check. Yep, he sure is.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Are you a virgin?” He can’t be surprised that you asked that; he’s making himself look like the biggest loser ever right now.

“No,” he answers shakily. He’s not super experienced, but he’s definitely not a virgin. He can barely stand looking at you as he waits for your answer, feeling your rejection creeping up on him.

You shrug. “Alright, we can hook up.”

Kai feels his brain start to malfunction all over again. He wasn’t expecting you to agree. You were supposed to scold him and slap him and kick him out of your apartment for asking something so heinous. He’s not sure what to do now. It’s not like he can back out of this—or like he wants to.

“So… can I kiss you?” he asks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his jeans before he leans in to start closing the gap between you. He lets his face hover a few inches away from yours, taking in your beauty from this close up. You’re so pretty that he already feels himself getting hard just looking at you like this. He stares at your lips, thinking about all the hours he’s spent dreaming of how they’d feel against his.

A voice in his head urges him to run away and hide. What if he’s not good enough for you? What if he doesn’t make you cum? Maybe he should just apologize for saying anything and blame it on being drunk or something.

You push forward before he can pull away, and suddenly your lips are on his and fireworks are going off everywhere. Or at least that’s how it feels, Kai doesn’t know—half of his thinking prowess is in his dick right now.

The poets were right, a kiss with your true love does feel different. This is a high Kai has never felt before, one that leaves him lightheaded and struggling to cling onto reality. God is real, the universe is good, and he’ll devote himself to worshipping you for the rest of his life.

His hands find your face with a feather-light touch, unsure how far he should go just yet. One hand tangles itself in your hair, using gentle force to press your face closer to his. He wants to feel your soul enter his body, to become so intertwined that your beings blend into one.

He grants your tongue access into his mouth as soon as he feels you licking at his lips. He has half a mind to be embarrassed by the whine he emits when you deepen the kiss, mentally scolding himself for being so pathetic. He shivers when your hands fall onto his shoulders, completely weakened by your touch. He’ll let you go as far as you want, he’ll give you the world.

You pull away to catch your breath, staring him down like you’re some hungry wolf. Kai wishes that it didn’t turn him on as much as it did. To see your eyes dark and wanting for him makes blood rush to his cock. This is something Kai’s waited years for, and it does wonders for his confidence, if only for a moment.

He drags you back to him, capturing your lips yet again. There’s more heat in his movements this time, conveying all his attraction to you through tongue and teeth. He licks into your mouth, wanting more, needing more, aching to get you delirious off his touch. His hands start moving down your body, dipping below your shirt to hold onto your bare waist. Your skin is warm and soft, and it feels like territory that Kai needs to explore.

He bites your lip and soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue, then places another quick kiss to your lips. You look like something out of his wildest dreams, your lips wet and swollen and your eyes blown out with lust. He must not be faring any better. Your eyes dart to the bulge in his pants, and Kai feels a smidge of humiliation that you can see how he’s already fully hard. If a little bit of making out is enough to get him like this, he really has to pull himself together for when you actually touch him.

You push down on Kai’s shoulders until his back meets the mattress. He stares up at you and bites his lip, waiting for your next move. There’s a million different things you could do right now, and he thinks he’d be okay with any of them. You could throw your clothes to the floor and ride his face, you could shove his pants down his legs and tug at his cock, you could sit on his lap and just kiss him some more—hell, you could do nothing but sit there and look pretty and Kai would eventually burst.

“So what made you suddenly decide to hook up with me?” you ask while you situate yourself on his lap. He gasps as you let your hips fall into a slow grind over him. He curses the number of layers separating you two, wanting nothing more than to feel you directly. His hands fall to your thighs, gripping the soft flesh.

“I just…” It’s hard for him to find his words when he’s so focused on the sight of you on top of him. He’s fantasized about this countless times, but none of his imaginations could compare to this.

You laugh and let a hand trail up his chest, stopping at his throat to hold it in a loose grasp. He doesn’t want to be a pervert and beg for you to close your fist, but the idea of you choking him while grinding on top of him has his dick twitching in his jeans. The light pressure isn’t enough, he’d let you go all the way if you wanted.

“You just what?” you coax, smiling at him. He doesn’t know if you meant to be condescending or coddling, but either way it leaves him gripping onto your thighs a little tighter to keep his composure. His tongue is useless, no words find him when you’re toying with him like this. “Tell me, I wanna know,” you press. Kai doesn’t have it in him to create some lie on the spot.

“I-it’s kinda hard to think right now,” Kai says, hands moving up to your hips to try to urge you to move a little faster.

“I can stop, then,” you say, pausing your movements.

“No!” He presses his hips up into you and uses his hands to continue grinding you against him. You squeeze his throat at that, which only makes him whimper and buck into you harder.

“Kai,” you scold, and he finally listens and calms down. It takes a lot of willpower to lay still beneath you. You’re so tempting, he can’t help but try to relieve the strain in his pants.

“It’s just been a while, and… you’re really hot, so,” he explains as he tries to control his breathing.

You give an unsatisfied hum. “So you chose me just cause I’m hot and available?”

Kai squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. He thinks you’re doing this on purpose. “No. You’re my best friend, and I trust you, that’s why. Please move,” he says, trying to urge your hips forward again. He’s a little surprised at how easily he can hide the fact that he was originally planning on asking you out today. Being this horny must grant him superpowers.

You sit there for a moment, pondering his words. Those ten seconds feel like torture, but you’re undoing his pants as soon as you decide his answer was satisfactory, and it makes everything worth it. You push them halfway down his thighs before tugging your own shorts off, and Kai’s hands work quickly to feel up the exposed skin.

You’re back to grinding on him, but this time less clothes separate you. It’s still far too much, though; Kai needs to feel skin on skin. His fingers pry at your panties and try to tug them off, but you swat his hands away. He looks up at you with the most pitiful look he can muster, and it only serves to make you laugh at him like he’s some handsy perv. He blushes a little, letting his hands fall back onto your thighs.

“You just can’t wait, huh?” you taunt, hands sliding up his stomach and chest until his shirt is pulled as far up as it will go. You stare at his body with a bitten lip and dark eyes, and the intensity makes Kai shudder.

“I-I can wait,” he counters, rubbing his thumbs on your skin, keeping his hands right where they are to show that he’s being good. If all you’ll give him is some grinding and heavy petting, then he’ll be happy to just shut up and take it. He needs to prove himself to you, to show you that he can be whatever you want him to be. If you want him to be quiet and lay down like a toy, he’ll be ten steps ahead of you, leaning back on the mattress waiting to be used. If you want him to throw you around and treat you like a whore, he’ll show you strength like no one else has. This is about doing everything exactly how you want.

“How cute,” you coo, letting your nails lightly rake down his torso, stopping once your fingers are at his boxers. You let your finger run over the hem teasingly, just tracing it back and forth with no care as to how much this is torturing Kai. His hips rut up without his permission, body acting on its own accord, and he’s worried for a second that you might scold him.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, but his body betrays him again. He swears he’s not intent on making himself look so pathetic and horny—this is just what you do to him.

“Do you need me now?” you ask, snapping the waistband of his boxers playfully. He whines and nods, squeezing your hips with need. “How bad?”

“So bad I could cry,” he says. You laugh, and he panics.

“Then cry.” His eyes widen. He knows you’re serious when you still your hips over him once more, crossing your arms and grinning down at him. You’re such a tease, he might just die.

“Please, please use me!” If you want him to beg, he’ll put on a whole damn show. He holds you in place above him so he can roll his hips up into yours, making sure your clit catches on the head of his cock each time. His grip is bruising, and your gasps are like music to his ears. He can’t stop now, he’s insatiable. “Hnng—I’ll cum in my boxers if you don’t let me inside you now,” he whines, giving you a particularly rough thrust.

He’s thankful that you don’t push him away again when his hands scramble to yank your panties off. He pulls them down your legs and throws them hastily somewhere off the bed. He flips the two of you over so you’re lying on the mattress, and you’re giggling at him while he loses his mind above you. He takes off the rest of his clothes as fast as he can, itching to feel your hands all over his skin.

He’s panting by the time he’s finally got his dick in his hands, stroking it and spreading his precum down his shaft. You’re way too beautiful beneath him, and the fear of not lasting long enough to make you cum is making him feel incredibly insecure. You’re way too good for him. Oh god. He has so much to prove, so much to live up to.

He tries to dive down between your legs, figuring he could at least get you to cum on his tongue to ease his worries. He’s stopped by your fist in his hair, pulling him back up before he could even get eye-level with your pussy. His fingers are quick to separate your folds then, rubbing up your slit persistently.

“Let me prepare you,” he says, moving his head down again. He only gets to nibble your thigh before you’re giggling and pulling his head away.

“I’m ready,” you insist, spreading your legs a little wider. His head spins. You’re insane. Now he’s really in danger of cumming too soon—like, before he even sticks it in. He leans his head onto your shoulder, trying to get a hold of himself. His fingers swipe rapidly at your clit, trying to get you as close to the edge as he is. He can’t embarrass himself. He has to be good for you.

Your legs shake and close over his hand, and you try tugging him by the wrist to push him away, but he’s too intent on making you cum to be deterred by that. “Fuck, Kai, stop, you’re gonna..!” Your voice is getting high-pitched and whiny, and your pleas for mercy are really only working against you; if anything, it only motivates Kai further.

“It’s okay, just let go,” he urges, watching your face to see if you’re close. Your eyebrows are upturned, eyes glazed over with lust, and suddenly you look a lot less like a hungry wolf and more like a poor little lamb. He realizes then that the most important thing in the world right now is getting you to fall apart under him.

“Ah—oh, god,” you cry, hips rolling up into his hand as he keeps his relentless pace. He watches arousal drip from your empty cunt, leaking down to the mattress, and it’s the most enticing sight Kai’s ever laid eyes on.

“Come on, cum for me. Promise to stuff you so good when you do,” Kai urges, feeling dizzy at the sight of your twitching body. You must be so close. Every part of him aches for your climax.

“Fuck, cumming..!” you gasp out, grasping onto Kai’s arm for dear life. He loves this feeling, it’s like you need him, like he saved you, like he showed you divinity. It gets too much to his head, and he knows at that moment that he just became addicted. He’ll keep searching for this high for the rest of his life.

He lets up once your body starts convulsing too hard, using his hand to gently hold your waist down instead. He looks at you like you’re something magnificent. A part of him still wonders if this is real or not, but his mind could never make up something this life-changing.

He leans down to kiss you, something deep and hungry, portraying all the need that’s nestled its way into his being. Your hands find his shoulders easily, and it feels like they were meant to be there. Kai thinks your bodies must have been made to touch each other.

You pull away from the kiss, smiling up at him like a little devil. “I thought you said you were gonna fill me up now?”

Something about you saying that makes everything seem much more real all of a sudden. Anxiety strikes its way back into Kai’s stomach, and he doesn’t know if he is greater parts fear or lust when his hand finds his dick again.

“I will,” he promises, and he prays you don’t hear the shake in his voice. He holds back a gasp when he brings his tip to your entrance. You’re soaked, and he feels the way your hole flutters pathetically for him. You need him. He almost feels possessed at the thought.

He bites his lip hard as he starts to push in. He’s trying not to get ahead of himself, but you’re so easy to get drunk in. You’re so tight, he would have stuffed you with his fingers if he’d known you’d be squeezing him like a vice.

He bottoms out with a gruff moan, holding onto your waist for dear life. He can’t believe this. He’s inside you. He’s in love with you. He’s as close to you as he could possibly be. The physical world constrains him from tying your souls together infinitely, but the intimacy of this is almost good enough.

How does he prove himself worthy for you? He feels himself getting lost more and more in a fantastical world in which you love him too, and the two of you are making love. But that’s not what this is. You just want him to fuck you.

His hands trail down to your hips, holding you still as he starts to pull out a bit. He’ll give you what you want. He’ll prove himself capable, make sure you know how well he can satisfy you. He’d spend a lifetime making you believe him if he could.

Your breath catches when Kai bottoms out again in a hard thrust. “You’re big,” you say with a little giggle, hands coming up to rest on Kai’s shoulders.

“T-thanks.” He doesn’t know if you’re laughing at his stutter or at his response, but either way it makes his face flush. He fucks into you at a steady pace now, slow enough to keep himself from cumming.

Your hand trails up to the nape of his neck to grip his hair, and it makes Kai whine. You roll your hips up into him, meeting his thrusts deliciously, tugging harder at his hair when he speeds up a little. You’re making things really hard for Kai right now. He wants to give you the best time of your life, but you keep hypnotizing him with how sexy you are.

He can’t be selfish. He brings a thumb to your clit and relishes in the way you groan out at the stimulation. “Just like that,” you praise, clutching onto him a little more desperately.

“Wanna be good for you,” he says, letting his hips buck harder against you. He’s never felt so brainless in his life; he only acts on instinct as he chases his orgasm and your own. There’s a primal urge to claim you, to paint your walls with his seed.

Your back arches up into him, like you’re presenting yourself fully to him. His free hand snakes up your shirt to find your tits, playing with them as he pleases, watching your reactions to everything. You look so overwhelmed. Your mouth hangs open with broken whines as Kai keeps stimulating you, and the sight has his stomach clenching in threat of climaxing soon.

“Kai,” you moan, accompanied by some garble of words that he can’t quite decipher. He doesn’t know if that’s because you’re unintelligible from how good you feel, or if it’s because he’s so far off in his own need to make you cum that everything else is blurred out.

Your walls start tightening around him now, and he knows you’re cumming when you throw your head back with a cry. He almost bursts inside you at that moment. He feels like something more than human, like only the most divine of beings should be able to see things like this. He burns the image in his mind.

“Where can I cum?” he asks, jackhammering into you as he chases his high. You’re whimpering from the overstimulation, but Kai thinks you can take it for just a few more moments.

“A-anywhere,” you stutter out. For the first time, Kai thinks you look breakable. He has a scary thought of wanting to ruin you.

“Inside you?” he asks, coming down to mouth at your neck. You whimper when he bottoms out again and grinds against you.

“Wherever you want,” you say.

Fuck. It’s that same second he spills inside you, almost as if your words were what allowed him to cum. He groans into your shoulder, hands squeezing at your flesh while your cunt milks him dry. He will never get closer to heaven than this.

He’s not sure how many minutes have passed by the time he’s picking himself back up, hovering over you, still sheathed inside your walls. All he knows is that you look even more beautiful now than you have before, and the urge to confess his love to you falls over him once again.

“Is this gonna change things?” Kai asks. He hopes you say yes. He hopes he made you see him in a new light, that you suddenly realized he’s the man of your dreams and you need him to be with you forever.

“No,” you answer, running your fingers through his hair. “But we probably will fuck again. That was mind-blowing.”

Kai’s still a little too hazy to process that. “Alright,” he says. He collapses back down on you, figuring he would take advantage of the moment and hold you like this a little longer.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Admittedly, Kai didn’t think this through very well. He’s pacing around his bedroom, going on and on to Yeonjun about how much he messed up and how scared he is to see you again. Yeonjun lays on Kai’s bed, much more relaxed than Kai is.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Yeonjun says. Kai can’t believe how he can be so casual about this. “You can still tell her how you feel.”

“No I can’t! I should have told her before we had sex, this is a nightmare!” Kai holds his head in his hands, trying to keep it from exploding. The amount of stress he feels right now is probably enough to guarantee him heart problems later in life.

“She won’t care, dude. Just tell her you choked,” Yeonjun reassures. It does very little to comfort Kai, though.

“I’m not gonna tell her. I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can. If you don’t tell her, I’ll ask her out myself.” Kai’s not sure if Yeonjun’s threat is legit, but it strikes a bit of fear in his heart anyway.

“I’ll tell her in, like, a month. That’s enough time, right?”

“Why not tomorrow?” Yeonjun counters.

“Are you crazy?! We had sex two days ago! If I tell her tomorrow, I’m gonna look pussy-whipped!”

Yeonjun laughs, “Well…”

Kai rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not telling her until next month.”

“You’re just gonna push that date back over and over again. Get it over with sooner, that way you don’t have to worry about it all the time,” Yeonjun explains.

“You don’t get it. This is hard for me. Have you even been in love before?” Kai asks, pausing in front of the bed so he can look Yeonjun in the eye when he answers.

“I guess not,” Yeonjun says, shrugging like he doesn’t see how that would matter. “You know I give good advice about dating, though. I can look at it objectively because I’ve never been in love.”

Kai doesn’t have a response to that—not because Yeonjun’s right, but because he thinks Yeonjun’s reasoning is so ridiculous. Yeonjun doesn’t understand what it’s like to feel even a quarter of the yearning Kai holds for you. He doesn’t know a fraction of the fear of losing you.

Yeonjun starts up again, “You’re seeing her tomorrow anyway, so you might as well.”

Kai shakes his head. “I can’t. I can barely handle seeing her tomorrow as is.”

Yeonjun sits up, clearly taking the conversation more seriously now. “Why though? You act like you’re so doomed, but I guarantee you that hooking up once isn’t something to cry about.”

“That’s the problem, it wasn’t just a hook up for me. I will never be the fucking same again. I literally can’t move on.” Mild irritation laces all of Kai’s words.

“Then take a step back and chill out. The more you stress about this, the worse you’re going to make things,” Yeonjun says. He still sounds so unphased about it all. Kai wishes he could make him see how pressing this really is, how this actually feels like life or death for him.

“How am I gonna take a step back when I see her and talk to her all the time?” Kai asks. That’s just scratching the surface; he doesn’t even mention how his every thought goes back to you, how everything in the world reminds him of you one way or another. His devotion toward you feels like it’s embedded in his bones, like it’s part of his wiring. There is no him without an undying love for you—the two cannot be separated.

“I don’t know, dude. I don’t wanna sound like a dick, but if you don’t want my help, figure it out on your own,” Yeonjun says, exhausted.

Equally exhausted, Kai sinks down the wall until he’s sat on the floor. “Let’s just stop talking about this for now,” Kai sighs out.

It’s quiet in the room for a minute as the tension slowly dissipates. Then, Yeonjun chimes in again with a five-star idea: “Wanna get drinks?”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Kai thought he’d be too scared to see you today, but he proves himself to be horribly wrong. As soon as you call him telling him to come over, the only anxiety he feels is in the form of antsiness to see you again. He doesn’t waste a second before driving to your apartment. He could walk, but that would just be more time lost.

He realizes the moment he walks into your bedroom that maybe he shouldn’t have been so careless before coming here.

Your eyes fall to his shirt. “Is that One Direction?”

“No.” He looks down at his shirt only to see the five boy band members staring back at him. He looks back at you, hopefully concealing the fear he feels from his face. “Yes.”

You laugh. Oh god, do you think he’s a loser?

“It’s my sister’s shirt,” he explains quickly. “It was too big for her, so she gave it to me.”

“Please go out in public wearing that,” you say. “I’ll literally treat you to lunch right now.”

Kai feels his face flushing in embarrassment. “I don’t even like One Direction!”

“You do now! I think I’m in the mood for a discography dive, actually,” you laugh. Kai hides his face in his hands as he trudges his way over to you, falling backward onto your bed. He feels your hand run through his hair as your laughter dies down.

“Do you have any of my sweatshirts here?” Kai asks, even though he knows you do.

“Nooooo, I don’t want you taking those from me,” you whine.

“You’ll get it back, I just don’t want to go out like this.” You pout at him before getting up and rummaging through your closet. You throw a sweatshirt at him when you find one, and Kai is quick to throw it on once it lands in his lap.

“It feels like a crime for you to be covering them up,” you say, brushing your hand over where One Direction’s faces once were.

“It would feel like more of a crime letting people think I’m a modern-day Directioner.” Kai relishes in the way you laugh at that.

“You’d be such a Niall girl,” you say with an amused glint in your eye.

“I don’t even know which one Niall is.”

“He’s”—

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” he cuts you off.

“Fine. No one ever wants to talk One Direction with me anyway.”

Kai laughs, and he’s a little starstruck by how pretty you look when you smile at him like this. “Where do you wanna go today?” he asks, changing the conversation.

You shrug. “We can just drive to the city and see what’s around,” you offer.

“Do you wanna just head out now then?”

“Let me get ready and then we can,” you say, getting off the bed.

It’s a miracle how normal Kai’s been able to act so far. He still looks away when you change your clothes, wanting to be respectful, but he wonders if there’s even a point to it anymore. His face heats up when he thinks about how you said you’ll probably have sex with him again.

Yeonjun’s words from yesterday come back to Kai, how he seemed so confident that Kai should confess to you today. For a second, he considers it. Yeonjun’s so much better with girls than Kai is, it would probably be stupid to not take his advice. But then Kai remembers that there’s no stakes when Yeonjun talks to girls; he doesn’t go after his best friend like Kai does, he goes after random girls at random parties that he’ll never see again.

For Kai’s own good, and for the sake of your friendship, he can’t tell you today. Even if it means swallowing down his compliments when you come to him all ready to go. Even if it means staying silent while being at risk of going into cardiac arrest, heart beating rapidly from how pretty you look in the passenger seat of his car.

Kai makes the mistake of letting you control the music on the ride there. He conveys his disappointment with a single glance to you when he hears you play What Makes You Beautiful. You’re grinning so hard that your cheeks must hurt, but your joy is contagious, and Kai finds himself smiling against his will.

“What? It’s your favorite band!” you tease. You turn up the volume as the chorus hits, singing the lyrics to him. Kai can’t help but laugh. He might have to buy a hundred more stupid t-shirts if this is what he’ll get every time.

Once you arrive downtown, Kai walks with you as you look for an intriguing store. He usually lets you pick out what shops you enter, but he catches sight of a building that calls out to him. “Let’s go here,” Kai suggests, motioning toward the sign on the store.

“Palm reading? Since when did you get so spiritual?” you ask.

Kai looks at you for a second, admiring your smile. “I just think it might be fun,” he says. “You don’t like it?”

You shrug. “I’m just not super into it. I’m down to watch you get your palm read, though.”

The shop is typical for a spirituality store—there’s crystals, tarot cards, incense, and everything else Kai usually sees at these places. He walks to the woman managing the register at the back, eyeing the board behind her that displays their services.

“Oh wow, they do mediumship here,” you say quietly as you follow behind Kai. “What the hell is an aura reading?” There’s a bit of amusement in your voice, and Kai hopes the worker doesn’t hear you.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done those,” he whispers back to you. He smiles when the woman behind the counter comes up to him, greeting her quietly.

“How can I help you?” she asks.

“Could we do one of those palm readings?” Kai says, pointing up at the text on the board describing the palm reading service.

“Just that? Would you like me to look at anything else?”

“Just the palm reading,” Kai answers. The woman calls out another worker to watch the store, then directs you and Kai to a room at the back.

“Oh, this room is tiny. It’s like a closet,” you say with a laugh, and Kai hopes the woman knows that you say this with no malice. She motions for the two of you to take a seat at the small table in the room. The chairs aren’t very comfortable—they’re pretty hard, and they squeak when you both sit in them, but Kai thinks of it as another charm to the place.

There’s a lot of unlit candles in the room, and the light instead comes from a lamp that stands in the corner of the room, casting the room in a yellowish glow. Spiritual posters line the walls, as well as shelves that hold huge crystals and other trinkets Kai doesn’t quite recognize. He looks to you for a second, to which you return his glance with a smile and a raise of your brows. His heart races a little, sickly sweet feelings for you rising in his stomach.

“Would you hold out your hands?” the woman says, and Kai immediately places his hands palm-up on top of the table. He suddenly feels nervous, as if he’s baring something as sacred as his soul rather than just his skin.

He’s not sure what he wants to hear today. He hasn’t done anything like this before, but the worker seems nice enough. Kai doesn’t know how to tell if someone is the real deal or not when it comes to spiritual stuff, but he trusts this woman’s vibes. She’s funky, in a good way.

He wonders if palm readings can say anything about love. With you right here, perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t ask.

The worker hums as she assesses Kai’s hands. He can feel them starting to get clammy from the nerves, antsy to just hear whatever she has to say. He hopes he doesn’t have bad fortunes.

The woman rests her thumb over a deep line that runs across Kai’s palm. “Your life line is very pronounced.”

Kai blinks at her. “What does that mean?”

She runs her finger over the full line. “It’s a long, deep line. Usually that means you’re energetic, and you’ll have a successful life. You might be good at sports too.”

You laugh beside him, and if his hands weren’t busy getting read by this lady he would’ve used them to shove you. “Please don’t mind her,” he says, feeling his face heat up.

“There’s just the capacity for you to be good at sports. And it doesn’t have to be a very physical sport,” she continues. Great—your laughter made the palm reader start scrambling for an explanation. She thinks he’s unathletic now.

“I am good at sports,” Kai says, feeling like he has to prove himself. “I like working out.”

“Yesss, and he loves bowling,” you add.

“What? She just made that up,” Kai defends. “I don’t like bowling.”

“He was a pro bowler in high school.”

“No. You’re a pro liar.” Kai is also failing to see why you find it important to sell this lie to the palm reader. He’s lucky enough that the reader doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your antics.

“You seem to have a lot of emotions,” she says, finger lying on one of the other prominent lines in Kai’s palm. He sees you smirking in his peripheral, and he tries his very best to ignore it. “Do you usually repress what you feel?”

Oh gosh. He makes a point to not look at you, but the first thing he thinks of is how he’s been holding in his feelings for you for years. He’s been bottling that up for a while—a lot of other emotions, too, but namely that one.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he answers with a nod, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“All the time,” you correct. “He rarely opens up.”

The palm reader hums in acknowledgement. “I can see that. You might want to work on expressing your emotions more. It’s not good to let everything sit in your body.” She looks him dead in the eye to make her point. Kai nods and gulps, feeling a little intimidated.

The reader releases Kai’s hands and turns her face to you. “Would you like a reading?” she asks. You wave your hand in denial.

“I’m alright, thank you. Hey, you got him dead on, though. Congrats,” you say, smiling at the lady and getting out of your chair.

“Thank you,” Kai says, fishing his wallet from his pants. “How much is this?”

“Ten dollars,” the woman answers, taking the cash from Kai when he hands it to her. He runs over to where you stand at the door, waiting for him with a smile. The moment the two of you step foot out of the building, you’re already going on about how fake and scammy this gig is.

“That lady was so full of shit. I could probably do this job. It was actually meant for me cause I love to lie,” you say. You stop walking and turn to face Kai. “Here, give me your hand.”

He hesitates for a second and braces himself for whatever insane story you’re about to come up with.

“Oh yeah, fingertips of a bowler,” you start. You cackle when Kai immediately tries yanking his hand from yours at that, but you keep a solid grip on his wrist. You trace over a line in his palm. “This one means you like long walks on the beach. And this one means you want to go back to the car and give me head.”

His interest is piqued. “For real?”

You drop his hand. “Yeah, says exactly that. That’ll be ten bucks.”

“I can think of a better way to pay you,” he says, unable to contain his grin. He takes your hand and speeds to his car. He doesn’t really care how desperate it makes him look. You’re giggling the whole way there, and the noise just goes straight to his cock. Maybe he is pussy-whipped.

He urges you into the backseat as soon as you make it to the car, getting in behind you and slamming the door shut, too eager to get his hands on you. Your smile doesn’t leave your face when he leans in to kiss you, but that doesn’t stop him at all. He cradles your jaw in his hand, keeping your face connected to his as he works his lips against yours.

“Hope no one catches us,” you giggle, only pulling away long enough to say that before being taken by Kai’s kiss again. Kai doesn’t let your words get to him; he’s too horny to think about anything besides boning you anyway.

Kai hovers over you, and there’s not much space in the backseat of his car, but he’ll sure as hell make it work if it means getting his face between your thighs. He wastes no time pulling down your jeans and your panties, yanking off your top and bra too so that you lay fully nude beneath him.

His eyes scan your body hungrily, taking in your skin at its most vulnerable. “You’re pretty,” he says as his hands find your tits, squeezing them and listening to you sigh at the feeling.

“J-just pretty?” you tease.

“And sexy,” Kai says, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it until he hears you whimper. “And so gorgeous,” he adds before moving to your other nipple. He’s greedy—he wants all your pleasure to be his own, for you to only associate sex and satisfaction with him.

You gasp and arch into him. Kai catches your movement, holding your back to keep you pressed close to him as he continues showing you how beautiful he thinks you are. He could spend lifetimes doing this. He was made to worship you.

Your hand curls in his hair, and Kai wonders if you could cum like this, just from some nipple stimulation. With the way you’re panting and moaning into the air, he thinks you might. He’ll have to try that someday. Today, it’s not enough. Today, he craves you more carnally. He starts dragging his lips down your body, trying not to smile in satisfaction when your breath hitches.

He brings his head between your legs, staring at you with intensity blazing in his eyes. He wonders if your skin is buzzing too. He wonders if you’ve never felt more alive than now, just like him.

“Can I?” he asks, gently maneuvering your legs to rest over his shoulders.

You lean up on your elbows to watch. “Mhm,” you hum with a small smile.

He can’t be bothered to tease you—it would probably be more torturous for him than you, anyway. He dives in right away, bringing his tongue to your folds and tightening his hold on your thighs. He can’t count how many times he’s jerked off to the thought of this. He doesn’t even care that he’s cramped in the tight space of his car, all he cares about is that he finally knows how you taste.

His tongue swirls at your clit, gliding along the bud with determination. He’s dying to feel your legs clamp around his head. He wants to be suffocating, to feel the air slowly leave him as he laps at your pussy. He grunts against you, moving down to tongue at your entrance.

He presses his face further into you, aching to get closer than what’s physically possible. He curls his tongue up inside you, huffing out a laugh when your thighs jolt at the sensation. He repeats the motion until he hears your moans get high-pitched and breathy, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. Nothing could be better than this.

Your hands grab at his hair, desperate and shaking and so needy, and he can’t help but feel the urge to take care of you. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” you ask, sounding all worked up. Kai thinks it’s very cute. He doesn’t answer, of course—he’s a little preoccupied.

Your words motivate him to go further, lapping at you with more fervor. His brain turns to mush, reduced to primal instinct that begs you to cum all over his tongue. He grips onto you tighter when your hips start running away, not letting you escape him. You whine out as he mouths at your pussy; it’s filthy and messy, but Kai couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to have you.

“Kai—Kai! Like that, shit, you’re so fucking good.” Your legs start closing around his head, and Kai thanks the universe for putting him in this position. You twitch and gasp as you get closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening in Kai’s hair.

He’s feral now, and his vision might be blacking out, but he fucking loves this. He doesn’t stop or slow down, and the payoff comes in the form of his name tumbling from your lips as you finally cum. He can’t get enough, continuing to lap at you even as you try to tug him away.

“I’m sensitive!” you yelp when he comes up to your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking until you cry. He doesn’t do it to be mean, he’s just so crazy about you. He wants you to cum over and over again, but you keep trying to pull him away, so he finally lets up.

He comes up to you for a kiss, taking your hand to hold it as he pants into your mouth. He doesn’t care about catching his breath. He doesn’t want to waste time on insignificant things like taking in air. He only wants to breathe you in, to be overwhelmed with the way you take over his senses.

Your free hand clumsily tries to push his pants down, and he resorts to helping you out after a few failed attempts. He doesn’t separate from the kiss for a second as he gets his cock out, lining it up to your entrance needily. He pumps his shaft in his hand as he sticks his tip in, eating up your moans as they pass from your mouth into his.

Maybe he’s too in his head, but this feels like more than sex between two friends. This feels too transformative to be anything casual. He pushes in further, breaking from the kiss to watch your face as he bottoms out. He brushes your hair back, then lets his hand rest on your cheek. His thumb rests over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You have beautiful lips.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth the same moment he starts thrusting inside you. He feels the vibrations of your moans as he fucks into you, groaning at the way you clench around him.

“You take me so well,” Kai grunts out, pushing his thumb down on your tongue so your mouth opens up. You look like a wet dream. He brings his other hand to your breasts, playing with your nipples. You mewl, and he finally takes his thumb from your mouth so he can kiss you again.

It doesn’t take long for him to feel ready to burst. He pinches your clit, trying to bring you to the edge with him. You tug his hair, pulling his face away so you can stare into his eyes as you get closer to cumming.

“Cum inside me,” you urge, sliding your hand down from his hair to his neck. You hold his throat in a possessive grasp, and Kai almost sees God in that moment. His hips buck into you faster, motivated by your fingers slowly tightening around him.

Kai bottoms out and bursts inside you with a moan, letting your walls squeeze around him and milk his cock. He moves his fingers over your clit rapidly until he feels you convulsing around his shaft; his head spins from both the noises you make as you orgasm and your hand around his neck.

You finally let go, and Kai gasps for air, leaning his head down into your shoulder as he rides out the last of your highs. He runs his hands all over your body, cherishing the feel of your bare flesh. He licks the skin at your neck and shoulder mindlessly, still foggy from how turned on he is.

He pulls out after a minute, pulling his head from your shoulder so he can watch the way his cum drips out of you. He grins at the sight, and he knows it’s perverted and gross, but he loves the way it spills out. He can’t have his cum dripping onto his car seats, though, so he has to put your panties back on and make sure your cunt keeps it all in.

“How you feeling?” you ask, still laying down and catching your breath.

“Good. That was so good,” Kai breathes out, staring at your lips, then your eyes.

You smile at him. “Is that all you want to say?” you ask.

No, it’s not. He wants to say he loves you. He wants to say that this means more to him than you know. He wants your lips beyond these slivers of moments, he wants your body beyond these hookups. Do you know that? Do you know he wants to say all that?

He grabs your hand and laces his fingers between yours. The lines embedded in his palms spell out a path that was fated for loving you. He’s more sure of this now than ever before. There’s his answer.

“That’s all,” Kai says.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“I don’t get it,” Yeonjun says. “Why’d you hook up with her again if it fucked you up so bad last time?”

Kai sighs, “Cause I’m stupid. I don’t know.”

Kai’s not sure how debriefing with Yeonjun after hanging out with you became such common practice, but it at least offers him some sort of reprieve from suffering alone. Now he doesn’t have to mope around crying about his lost chances with you. They’re sitting in Yeonjun’s car in the corner of some parking lot, since Yeonjun didn’t want to just hang out at Kai’s place again.

“Are you ever gonna confess?” Yeonjun asks. He sounds like he lost hope in Kai.

“Yes, I am,” Kai says, not knowing how to bare himself to Yeonjun like this. “Just not yet.”

“Mhm,” he gives an unconvincing hum.

“I am,” Kai insists.

“When? Ten years from now, when she’s already settled down without you?” That pisses Kai off a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Yeonjun continues, “Listen, dude. For your own sake—and for mine, at this point—just tell her you love her. And not in a month. Tell her today.”

“I’m not seeing her today,” Kai reasons.

Yeonjun puts the car in drive. “Yes you are.”

“Oh my god, you’re not taking me to her place,” Kai says, but Yeonjun’s already pulling out of the parking lot and heading out. Kai’s eyes go wide. “You’re not.”

“I am.” What the hell?! Kai’s not ready for this! You don’t even know he’s coming over!

“I don’t know what to say!” he exclaims, starting to panic.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yeonjun says.

“I just saw her yesterday! You’re making me look desperate!”

“You are desperate,” Yeonjun laughs. Kai doesn’t find it funny. Kai can’t really find anything funny right now.

“I can’t do it. I’m not doing it.”

Yeonjun doesn’t even respond; he just keeps his eyes on the road and continues on the route to your apartment. Kai’s getting flashbacks to when he first tried confessing to you. That was around a week ago now, and look where that attempt got him. He's more pathetic than he was before.

Of course he wants to tell you how he feels. It’s not like Kai wants to be such a coward about this, but the fear of you rejecting him and scaring you off forever is mortifying. Yeonjun doesn’t understand how paralyzing that idea is. There would be no kind of hurt stronger than the one of you turning Kai away. He knows he can’t make you love him, and while he would simply die to have his feelings be reciprocated, he can’t force it onto you.

Yeonjun’s approaching your street now, and Kai has never felt closer to death in his life. There’s no chance he’s getting out of Yeonjun’s car. He’ll rot away here in the passenger seat before he confesses to you.

Yeonjun turns to Kai when he parks by your apartment complex. He raises an eyebrow when Kai doesn’t make a move to get out of the car.

“I’m too scared. I can’t,” Kai says, sounding completely sure of this.

Yeonjun’s quiet for a few seconds, pursing his lips in thought as he decides on what to say. “How much do you love her?” he asks.

This is a stupid question. “You know how much. It kills me how much.”

“So act like it. Pick yourself up and go to her like a man. Quit ruining your own life—she’s not gonna want some bum who can’t even work up enough courage to say he loves her,” Yeonjun says, and his words are harsh, but they strike some kind of determination in Kai. “Dude, I don’t know any guy who deserves her more than you. You’re the best. I mean it. You gotta go get her.”

Kai’s palms are sweating and his heart is racing, but there’s a fire lit beneath him now. Yeonjun’s right. Even if it’s the end of all things, Kai has to tell you his feelings.

Yeonjun continues, “Do it. It’s not as bad as you think. You have to do it.”

Kai finally opens the car door, and he can feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. “I’m gonna call you later,” Kai says before shutting the door. He hears Yeonjun cheer him on as he walks off, letting his feet lead him to your door.

It all feels too familiar when Kai’s standing at your doorstep. He has no script this time. He couldn’t begin to try and conjure one up—his nerves are making him jittery and scatterbrained. There’s no backing out this time. Yeonjun’s words ring in Kai’s mind. He has to do it.

“Oh, hey,” you say when you open the door. Kai steps inside and gathers his breath. “Did something happen?” you ask.

You stare at him with concern, and he figures it must be because he’s visibly anxious. He tries to get himself together, straightening his posture and breathing slower.

“No, not really,” he answers.

“You look like you’re ready to pass out.” You glance at your living room. “Did you want to sit down?”

“No,” he says, then musters up whatever courage he has to grab your hands. He clutches onto them desperately, as if you ground him, as if you remind him to be brave. “I just want to tell you something.”

Your eyes dart between his like you’re trying to find his words before he can say them. “What is it?” you ask.

Kai’s whole world has been building up to this moment. It’s finally time. He breaks the dam open, letting his vulnerability loose.

“I love you.” His heart hammers against his chest.

“I know,” you say.

“No, like—I love you,” he emphasizes, squeezing your hands.

You smile. It’s breathtaking. “I know. Yeonjun told me.”

Yeonjun—what?!

“Are you kidding me?!” Kai forgets everything else he wanted to say in his horror. That fucking asshole, he’s dead! Kai can’t believe this! He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised; this is such a Yeonjun thing to do. “When did he tell you?!”

You laugh like this is all so funny, meanwhile Kai’s world is crumbling down. “The day before we first hooked up,” you answer.

No fucking way.

“You knew this whole time?” Kai asks.

“Yup,” you confirm.

“Why did he tell you?”

“In case you pussied out. Which you did,” you answer. “And because he knew I’m in love with you too.”

Kai doesn’t quite process what he heard. “Huh?”

You grin and roll your eyes, and then you’re pulling Kai’s face in so you can kiss him. His head spins. He’ll wake up any second now. Your lips feel very real, though, and far beyond what his dreams could conjure up. They’re soft and sweet and just as delicious as he remembers.

You pull away. “I love you too,” you say. “You should be my boyfriend.”

Kai’s in disbelief. You love him—the words echo in his mind on a constant loop. He can’t think about anything else; all he can do is pull you back in for another kiss and make it count. This is your first kiss officially together, after all.

“You should’ve asked me before,” Kai breathes out, holding your face dearly. “You knew I would’ve said yes.”

You giggle, “I like the chase.”

The world around him fades away as Kai devotes his full attention to you. Nothing else in the universe could mean more than this moment. You drag him to your bedroom, and he follows eagerly, grinning victoriously the whole time.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to finally say it,” you tease as you push him onto your bed, straddling him and resting your hands on his chest. “Or that I had to hear it from Yeonjun first, a week before I heard it from you.”

“He fucking sucks for that,” Kai says with a little laugh. He holds no real malice toward Yeonjun, but he will definitely be having a word with him later. Honestly, Kai couldn’t even be mad if he tried right now. With you smiling like this on top of him and Kai finally being able to call you his, nothing could bring him down.

You bring Kai’s face to yours for a quick kiss, then you pull away to throw off your shirt. “Let’s make it feel like the first time,” you say, lifting off of him to take off your bottoms.

“It always does with you,” Kai says sweetly as he pulls his own pants and boxers down. You spit in your hand and bring it to his cock, pumping him quickly to get him fully hard. You bite your lip as you twist your hand over him, earning a choked out moan from Kai. He brings his hand to your folds, rubbing at your slit with just as much fervor.

“Do you want me to ride you?” you ask, a little out of breath from Kai’s hands on you. His head nearly explodes at the thought of you riding him. He wants you to do whatever you want. He wants you to use his dick to make yourself cum ten times over, if that’s what you’d like.

“Yeah, fuck, come fuck me,” Kai begs just as breathlessly. He places his hands on your hips while you position his tip to your entrance. You have fun with it, sliding the head of his cock through your folds until Kai starts whining.

You grab his face so he’ll look at you when you start sinking down on him, and the eye contact is so intense, but Kai doesn’t dare look away. He lets you dip two fingers past his lips, and he sucks them diligently, moaning around them when you sink down on his cock all the way.

You grind against him, slow and sensual, while Kai swirls his tongue around your digits. He wants you to feel his devotion. He wants his love to be so apparent that you could never doubt it. His insides are lit aflame with desire, a need to be claimed by you. You don’t know it, but you’ve carved your name into his soul. He’s eternally yours.

“I love you,” you whisper. You put your body to work, keeping all the passion and sensuality in the moment as you start riding him. Kai gasps, and you pull your fingers from his mouth, bringing them to your own to suck his saliva off of them. The act is so dirty, but it makes Kai’s dick twitch inside you.

“I love you too,” he whimpers. You take your saliva-coated fingers to your clit and rub it as you hasten the pace of your hips. His hands find your tits, squeezing the flesh and thumbing at your nipples. Your mouth drops open, and your eyes fall to Kai’s lips. He smiles as he leans in, kissing you and capturing all your moans.

He holds onto your hip so he can buck up into you, trying to get you both to your orgasms. “Cum with me,” you breathe into his mouth. You don’t have to tell him twice.

He bottoms out and releases inside you, cock twitching as his seed spurts out. You’re cumming right along with him, legs trembling and hands clutching onto Kai to keep yourself up. He watches your stomach tense up as you ride out your high. You’re the hottest sight to be seen.

Kai feels euphoric, like the world has blessed him to be the luckiest man on earth. The happiness bubbling inside him makes him feel like he could explode. He’s all giggles and stupid little smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

“I can’t believe this is real. Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he says, staring at you like you’re something precious.

“This didn’t feel real to you?” you ask, rolling your hips over him. He’s sensitive, and the motion makes him jolt. You laugh and pull yourself off of him.

“I’m ridiculously in love with you. I wish I had the words to tell you how much,” Kai professes.

“What a shame. I would’ve loved to hear it.” You peck the tip of his nose.

If that’s a challenge to get Kai to try, he gladly accepts. “I never believed in destiny until I fell in love with you. I don’t think a love this strong existed anywhere else, I think I’m the first person to love someone this hard.”

Kai will dedicate his every next breath to you. He’s yearned and longed for years, with a force much stronger than a human heart has. Feelings like this are bigger than life itself; they’re bigger than celestial bodies, bigger than metaphysical concepts. Feelings like this haven’t yet been given words to describe them.

He feels like a winner when he sees you fluster at his words—getting you to blush is not an easy feat. You look away shyly, but your lips are tilted up in a cute smile.

“Well, I love you too,” you say. Kai doesn’t need the fancy words from you; this much is more than enough. He steals a kiss from you once more.

Kai doesn’t forget to call Yeonjun when he gets the chance, figuring he should still have a word with him. It goes to voicemail. That’s fine. He leaves a very kind message for his friend to find when he decides to check his phone.

“You’re seriously the worst. You’re unbelievable. Call me back when you can, you’re gonna want to hear this.”

notes: ahhhhhh what do we think?? 🙈🙈 i’m issuing a formal apology to the one direction fans and haters who had to sit through the 1d bit. extra apology to niall girls. i also apologize to the bowling community. contrary to what this fic may imply i really do respect you guys. lmfao i hope you enjoyed this! always happy to hear ur thoughts :)

taglist: @dawngyu @fancypeacepersona @hyukarma @kveclair @mental-hollows @moaadiry 🤍

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

this one morning. l Joel Miller

Summary: signs appeared

Warnings: fluff, some worries and concerns, some tears, Ann and Tommy appear, pregnancy?

A/N: tell me what you think about it. about this chapter? about this story? about what I write? about anything? special thanks to @underneath-the-sky-again. thank you, sweetie

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The patrols had been called off due to the blizzard. Joel and a few other men were securing the stables and then they were going to tackle the interior of another house. Ellie and Dina didn't feel like spending time with you, which you understood perfectly, so you bundled up and went to Ann's house. The Christmas lights were shining in her windows, Ann had an uncanny ability to create a wonderful homely atmosphere and you knew that spending time there would definitely help you.

“I can’t believe how fast he’s growing,” you said, looking at Elijah who was sitting in his playpen, busy with his toys.

“I just need to blink and he’ll grow up a little.” Ann laughed, placing a cup of tea in front of you. “Joel brought in the wooden blocks he made for him yesterday. I didn’t know he could do things like that! Are you sure you don’t want some coffee?”

“No, thank you.” You replied. “I haven’t been able to drink it or even smell it lately.”

Ann handed you a piece of cake, smiling as if she remembered something really funny. “I remember Shane making me coffee once. I got sick and threw up in the kitchen sink. Then it turned out to be Elijah’s fault. Right, honey?” she cooed at the boy, and he squealed as if he understood her.

But his mother's face suddenly turned serious, her eyes widening as she looked at you. Your name fell from her lips in a whisper. "Can you be..." she began.

You couldn't answer. The thought had been circling your mind for almost two weeks. You hadn't talked about it with anyone, but deep down you were glad that it was your friend who asked the question you were afraid of.

"I don't know." You answered quietly, gripping the hot mug tighter in your hands. "I... I have no idea."

Ann sat on the edge of the couch, leaning toward you. “But you can be? How late are you?”

“Six weeks, almost seven.”

Ann’s face gave way to a ghost of a smile, but then she turned serious again. “Did you take a test?” You shook your head. “Joel knows?”

“I didn’t tell him.” You looked down, feeling a knot in your stomach. “I don’t want to give him hope…”

“Hope?” Ann’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You tried for that baby!”

You put the cup on the table and hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply. You wanted to tell Joel everything. You hated keeping secrets from him, but at the same time you were afraid that it might be a false alarm. You had been feeling uneasy for a few weeks now, but you kept it to yourself.

"I'm scared." You finally said, giving vent to what had been sitting in your chest for so long. "After what happened last time, I'm scared..." You looked at Ann, tears glistening in her eyes. You finally stopped defending yourself. A few tears rolled down your cheeks. "What if this all happens again? My heart would break if..."

“Don’t think like that.” Ann cut you off and quickly stood up, then sat down next to you. “You both deserve to be happy. You should take a test and tell Joel. Do you have one?”

You nodded, wiping your cheek. “I found it at the pharmacy on my last patrol.”

“Don’t tell Joel that.” Ann grabbed your hand, smiling. “If Joel finds out you suspected you were pregnant and were on patrol…” 

You both giggled. A weight lifted from your heart and you felt a little better. This conversation didn’t solve all your worries, but you already knew you weren’t alone in this. And that was comforting.

The soft whistle of the kettle echoed through the kitchen. Joel poured boiling water into the mugs, then picked them up and slowly walked up the stairs. It was still early, and you had plenty of time before you had to take care of your duties. You could spend this time lounging in your warm bed and lazily cuddling—Joel really liked that. Time just for the two of you, time to pretend the world hadn’t ended at all, and everything was as it could be.

He set the cups down by the empty bed and noticed that the light was still coming from under the bathroom door. Nothing else. No sound, no morning bustle, no running water. That worried Joel a little. He walked quietly to the door.

“Sweetheart?” he knocked. “Are you okay? I made you some tea.”

Silence. Joel frowned, feeling a growing unease in his chest. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and knocked again.

“You’re worrying me, sweetheart. Can I come in?”

You didn't say anything. Joel put his hand on the doorknob and the door opened without a problem. He carefully entered and immediately saw you sitting on the edge of the tub. Something was wrong. Joel swallowed.

"Something wrong?" he asked "Baby, talk to me, please..."

You looked up at him with barely visible eyes, tears glistening in them. "Joel..." your voice broke.

You couldn't speak. You held out the long, white object to him, and Joel, slightly confused, took it in his hand. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at. Two distinct lines could only mean one thing.

"Baby..." he sighed, looking at you in a way he had never done before. "Really?"

You nodded, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. "I'm almost 7 weeks late. I don't feel nauseous, but my breasts are sore, and the smell of coffee is irritating... Yeah, I think we did it, Joel."

You looked at each other for a moment. Neither of you knew what to say, the moment had swallowed you like a bubble and you were completely stunned. Finally, it was Joel who made the first move, placing the test on the sink and reaching for you. You took his hand and stood up, snuggling up to him. He was warm, smelling like home. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, feeling your heartbeat and at the same time feeling like his legs were made of cotton.

"Are you happy?" you gasped, your cheeks still wet.

A warm hand cupped your cheek. Joel smiled. You saw the small wrinkles around his eyes, his soft brown eyes full of feelings for you.

"I'm the happiest man in the world, my love," he replied, "I have everything with you."

And he kissed you, already knowing that what he was saying was true.

"Joel? What the hell are you doing here?"

Tommy approached his brother, who was preparing to go on patrol. His horse was already saddled, and his rifle was slung over his shoulder. He looked at him, demanding an explanation.

“How does that look to you? I’m going on patrol,” Joel replied, still working. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“It’s not your turn,” Tommy said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What now? She was feeling sick the other day, and then she had to help Ann. You can’t keep covering for her on patrol.”

“That doesn’t bother anyone,” Joel muttered. “Come on, Tommy.”

The man snickered. “What? Is she pregnant or something?”

Something in Joel shifted slightly. Tommy had known him long enough to notice it. He noticed the small gesture, the change in his gaze.

“No shit!” he choked out. “Really? Damn! You still have it, don’t you? Oh, man!” he patted Joel on the shoulder. “That’s good news!” But he noticed that Joel’s face wasn’t as happy as he’d expected. Quite the opposite. Something was nagging at him.

Tommy leaned in slightly. “But she’s fine, right? Have you been to the clinic yet?”

Joel nodded. “Yeah. She goes almost every week. Listen…” he looked at Tommy, and Tommy saw the hidden fear in his eyes. “After what happened, we don’t want to take any risks. Morris says everything’s great, but we won’t be able to relax until we get to the second trimester.”

“What week is she?”

“Almost ten.” The corner of his mouth lifted. Just the thought of you and the baby growing under your heart made him want to smile.

Tommy looked at the men preparing for patrol, then back at Joel. “Listen, you’re not alone. We’ll all keep an eye on her, I promise you. No patrols, no hard work.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family, right?”

Joel nodded. “Don’t spread it around. We want to keep it to ourselves as long as possible.”

“Sure.” Tommy grinned. “Back to diapers, huh? You must be so happy.”

“We are.”

The same day you took the test, you went to the clinic. You waited until dusk again and kept it a secret. Dr. Morris examined you and assured you that the pregnancy was progressing.

“The results are normal. The heart is beating strongly,” he said as you stared at the blurry image on the screen. “You should be more careful because of what happened earlier. But I think you’re out of danger at this point.”

From that day on, every night, Joel put a red cross on the calendar in the workshop. He counted down the days until you were both safe. There was nothing more he could do. Joel took over for you on patrol, but that was all. Oh, and he also started drinking coffee by the open window or on the porch so the smell wouldn’t bother you. Despite all your fears, you were truly happy.

And you were in this together, like a family.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait

[spaceyaemonds]

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: jack finally decides to give you your ring.

warnings: none??? a child/parenthood? maybe implied angst?? reader did get into a car accident while pregnant and that is also mentioned here! minors DNI

notes: this is how jack (doesn’t) propose! just a short lil something. i do still intend to have part 7 posted tomorrow!! unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 649

set in this universe

Jack creeps in as quietly as he can, hoping that Bug isn’t up yet so he can at least shower before making her breakfast.

The apartment is quiet, and he’s sure to go press a kiss to your head as he makes his way to the ensuite attached to your bedroom, showering quickly so he can go make breakfast for the three of you.

He makes his way back to the bedroom, hair still damp as he sits at the edge of the bed to put his prosthetic back on.

You, as always, catch his eye.

He hopes Bug’s been good. She’s going through a phase where she doesn’t sleep all night and constantly wakes up, probably because she’s teething.

He would prefer to be there on those nights, but knows you unfortunately get the brunt of that more often than he would care to admit.

Jack watches you a few moments longer, eyes tracing the features of your face, a face he could describe blind.

He’s loved you since the first time he slept in your bed, well watched you sleep in your bed. He bought a ring two days later on the way to work, and it’s sat in the bottom of his backpack ever since.

A dainty band with a big diamond that he just hasn’t worked up the courage to give you. Not that he thinks you’d say no, but after having it so long, he can’t think of a good way to ask.

Jack didn’t want to trap you, or make you feel trapped, in this situation if you didn’t want to be, so despite just knowing deep in his chest, he didn’t ask when he bought the ring.

Didn’t ask when you cried to him and told him your fears of motherhood. Didn’t ask when you’d been rolled into the ED after getting rear ended at a stoplight by some jackass who wasn’t paying attention, when he felt like he was gonna die watching Shen stitched the gash on your temple while you hyperventilated as Ellis’ shaky hand tried to find the baby’s heartbeat. Didn’t ask when tears streamed down his cheeks and he smiled the biggest smile he had in years when he held your baby for the first time.

Despite the dozens of opportunities to ask, he never could bring himself to do it.

But watching you now, something stirs deeper than it usually does.

So, in true Jack Abbot fashion, he goes and quietly digs the ring out of his bag.

He slips it on your left ring finger when he comes back in the room, kissing the side of your mouth twice before turning the baby monitor on your nightstand off and going to wake up his baby.

She looks just like you, everyone agrees. From her nose to her toes, she’s all you.

Especially when she pouts up at him with little tears lining her eyes.

“Oh, you poor, pitiful baby,” He coos at her as he picks her up and kisses her head repeatedly, “Daddy’s poor baby. You had a long night huh?”

He gets a squawk in reply.

Thirty minutes later, his girl is changed and eating some mashed bananas, giggling at every face Jack makes at her.

He feels you before he sees you as you wrap yourself around him and bury his face in his neck. He feels a wetness and the shaky breath you exhale as you squeeze him tight against you.

“I love you.”

One hand reaches up to hold your arm, “I love you more,”

Jack watches as her eyes light up when you look at her, hands clapping together as she lets out another giggle before fisting at her mashed bananas.

You let out another wet laugh as you angle your head towards your fiancé to kiss him as deeply as you can while Bug is distracted by her bananas.

[redrose10]

Yoongi x Female Reader. Arranged Marriage AU.

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism, slight mention of bullying and abusive relationships

Word Count: 2,306

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Yoongi was in kindergarten the first time he saw you. One of the bullies was making fun of you for having a Barbie lunch box. They took it and threw it down into the mud while laughing and pointing. He saw your lip begin to shake and it broke his heart. He knew what it felt like to feel alone and hurt. He walked up shoving the biggest of the bullies to the ground knowing he would probably get suspended for fighting, but he didn’t care. Silently he picked up the bag and took it to the bathroom where he washed off the mud the best he could. You thanked him with a shy smile and gave him your last sticker before you went on your way. He stared down at the glittery star and he didn’t know it yet, but that was the beginning of his crush on you.

In the sixth grade he went to every one of your basketball games. Your team was named The Shooting Stars, fitting he thought. His friends would tease him about why he wanted to waste his time watching girls play. He would laugh it off and say that he had to be there for volunteer hours or something. His friends weren’t really quite bright enough to question it so they let it go. Secretly he watched you with admiration and cheered every time you scored a basket. After every game he would be waiting by the exit where he would hand you a bottle of water and congratulate you either for the win or for trying your hardest if you lost. You would always get giggly and blush even harder making his stomach fill with butterflies.

In high school he tried to ask you to the senior dance, A Night Under The Stars. He bought the biggest bouquet of roses he could find and wrote a cute little note sticking both of them in your locker. He stood just a few feet away pretending to be busy rearranging his own locker. You pulled the roses out with wide eyes shocked at how beautiful they were. Yoongi was shaking with nerves as he peaked over seeing that you were reading the note.

“Ooohhhh who are those from?”, your best friend asked.

“I don’t know.”, you shrugged, “Theres no name.”

Yoongi felt like he was going to throw up. In his nervousness he forgot to sign his own name. A dumb mistake.

You never did figure out that it was him that placed the roses in your locker. He went to the dance with some girl he can’t even remember because he spent the whole night staring at you.

After high school the two of you went your separate ways. You went to college. He heard from a friend of a friend that you majored in early childhood education and were now a preschool teacher at Little Stars Academy. That suited you.

Yoongi on the other hand was put through the wringer. His parents worked hard to turn him into a successful and feared businessman so that he would be primed and ready to take over the the family company one day.

He didn’t know if it was the cutthroat business world or the fact that he realized he was nothing more than a pawn to his parents, but over time he became cold, hardened, and distant. He didn’t have much of a care for anyone in the world other than himself. He lived and breathed for business and making money. That was it.

Then on his 30th birthday his parents invited him over for a dinner. A small part of him got excited that maybe they actually did care about him as a son and not just an heir that they needed. But instead of balloons or a cake or even simply a card, he was handed a contract by his parent’s lawyer. Yoongi was required to be married by the end of the year or he would forfeit over all of his rights to the company and they would pass it on to his oldest cousin. They were kind enough to include a clause in that contract that he could either find his own bride or marry the woman they had picked, Kim Aera. Yoongi’s head started pounding at the thought of being married to her. She was loud, obnoxious, and pretentious. He would rather be married to a grizzly bear than her.

So after a couple of months and with much pestering from his parents without really thinking he threw out your name. It was the only one he could think of.

To his surprise his parents were okay with it. Of course they only saw the headlines though, “CEO Marries Sweet Preschool Teacher.” It would make people fall in love with him and that meant more money. An even bigger surprise was that you also agreed to it. The two of you hadn’t spoken since high school so he fully expected you to not even remember him.

He had heard from his friend of a friend that you were in a tough spot. Your mom passed away shortly after you graduated. Your dad became an alcoholic and you went no contact. You were struggling financially and stuck in an unhealthy border line abusive relationship. So when Yoongi offered you an out you took it.

Things moved pretty quickly after that. The two of you met for dinner quite often and then to go over things for the wedding a few more times after that. You wanted the colors to be navy and white with hints of gold. It reminded him of the stars in the night sky. Yoongi liked that. You wanted the cake to be a lemon cake with a raspberry filling. Yoongi hated raspberries, but he agreed because the way your face lit up when you tasted the sample made his heart race. You wanted no alcohol thanks to the bad memories it gave you about your father. Yoongi thought that a wedding without alcohol was blasphemy, but agreed and even stood firm when his parents tried to argue. He wanted to be your safe space and your comfort and he was going to make sure that happened.

As the months went on and he spent more and more time with you he could feel his cold heart starting to warm. The two of you would often sit outside on the balcony of his penthouse late at night staring at the sky.

“If you were to wish upon a star right now what would you ask for?”, you would question him.

He would look at you with a raised eyebrow, “I thought that the wish wouldn’t come true if you told someone?”

“That’s for birthday candles. Stars are different.”, you would laugh.

Yoongi would reach for your hand and smile, “I would rather not risk it.”

After you came back into his life he smiled and laughed more. Greeted his employees good morning much to their confusion. He didn’t drown himself in work because he actually looked forward to going home to you and hearing about your day. In a few short weeks he would be getting married, something he never imagined doing. For the first time in a while he was genuinely happy.

But things started taking a turn. He had to work up until the day before the wedding. His company had lost a major bidding war to buy a smaller lesser known although important company. It was not only a financial loss, but also an embarrassment. His parents were livid and taking it all out on him calling him stupid and useless and wishing they had a son to be proud of. On top of that the venue called wanting to know where to store the fifty cases of whiskey and wine his parents had ordered behind his back. The florist called and said there was a shortage on hydrangeas so all of the arrangements would need to be redone and they weren’t sure if they could do it on time. And to top it all off the baker called and cancelled last minute and no matter how many bakeries he called he couldn’t find one able to make the lemon cake with raspberry filling in time for the wedding.

When he finally he got home he was frustrated and angry and hurt. You came to greet him with a nice warm cup of coffee like you usually did, but this time your foot got caught under the rug sending you flying forward. The dark brown liquid spilling all over his favorite suit. That was enough to push him overboard. The old cold, hard Yoongi had returned and he didn’t care who his words hurt. It was like his brain blacked out for a moment.

“Cant you do anything right?!”, he spat, “You are such a waste of space. What benefits do you bring? All you’ve done is mess everything up. I can’t believe that out of all of the people in this world I have to marry someone like you tomorrow.”

Yoongi watched as your lip began to shake just like it did in kindergarten when the bullies threw your lunch box in the mud. Back then he was your rescuer, but right now he was no better than the people that hurt you.

“Y/N…I.”, he tried after realizing what he had said, but you pushed past him and into the bathroom locking the door behind you.

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning he entered the venue fully expecting ti find out that the wedding had been called off. But to his surprise you were there in the back room getting ready. He tried to apologize then, but was whisked away to get his own hair and makeup done loosing the chance.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. The vows were said, a kiss was shared. The entire wedding party took photos and then it was time for the reception. That’s when Yoongi noticed things felt off. You were distant. You stood off to the side trying to keep space between the two of you. Rarely did he ever see you smile or laugh. It killed him inside to know he was the cause of that, but he couldn’t blame you. He was a heartless jerk and said hurtful things to the one person he cared about.

As the night was winding down he saw you head outside to the terrace area and he took his chance to finally get a few minutes alone with you. He found you leaning against the ledge staring down at the city below. You looked gorgeous standing beneath the stars of the night sky.

“If you could wish upon a star right now what would you wish for?”, he asked after walking up next to you.

You remained silent. It hurt, but he knew he deserved that.

He continued on anyways, “I would wish that I could go back to that day in high school and actually write my name on that stupid note I put in your locker.”, he chuckled, “Then maybe we would have gone to the dance together. And then we would’ve gone to college together. I would have proposed to you on Christmas morning while sitting next to the tree watching the lights sparkle. We would’ve had a small ceremony, just our friends. Bought a house in the countryside. Got a dog maybe a cat too. Maybe even a couple kids if you wanted. I would make you breakfast in bed and dessert by the lake. I would have taken you on vacations all over showing you the world and showing the world how lucky I was. Then when we were old and gray I would take care of you until our last breath making sure you were warm and comfy. And then in my last days I would wish to do that all over again with you by my side.”

He looked over at you noticing you gently wiping underneath your eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”, he said, “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I’m especially sorry for how I spoke to you last night. That was uncalled for and I didn’t mean any of it. You are perfect in every way and just by being here you light up the world. In a world full of darkness you’ve always been my bright star Y/N.”

Softly you leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder as you stared out at the sky. Yoongi thought he might have a heart attack.

“You know what I would wish for?”, you finally spoke after a while. He hummed to acknowledge that he was intently listening.

“I would wish to go back to high school. To that day I saw you putting the roses and note into my locker. I would wish that I would have had enough courage to go up to you in person instead of pretending I didn’t know where they came from because I was too scared to say anything since you didn’t leave your name for me to be certain. Then maybe we both would have turned out differently.”, you said wrapping your arms around his neck. He moved his own arms around your waist squeezing you tight.

“I really am sorry.”, he whispered in your ear, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

In the back of the limo on the way to the hotel Yoongi had you tightly pulled against his side. His right arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both looked out the window watching as the night sky passed by.

“Yoongi look!”, you gasped, “A shooting star. Make a wish!”

He watched as you closed your eyes wishing for whatever it was that your heart desired. He knew he didn’t have to make a wish of his own. He already had everything he could ever want and ever need. But he did it anyways. He closed his eyes and thought of his wish.

“What did you wish for?”, you questioned once you opened your eyes.

“I can’t tell you.”, Yoongi smirked, “If I do it won’t come true and I’m not taking any chances.”

[arkaiveofurown]

Kikoku’s Secret Charm

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Reader

“Don’t tell the crew I like this.”

You catch Law admiring a cute keychain in a marketplace. You buy it for him later—and to your surprise, he actually attaches it to Kikoku (his sword) when no one’s looking.

Words Count: ~2000 words

tag: fluff, law likes cute things

my masterlist here ♡

——

The air smelled like sea salt and grilled skewers as the Heart Pirates scattered across the town’s open market. You were trailing behind Law, not because he asked you to, but because you always somehow ended up keeping pace with him when the crew made port.

He didn’t talk much, but his presence was…comfortable. You liked how he moved with purpose, always scanning quietly, arms tucked in his pockets. You weren’t even sure if he noticed you next to him most of the time.

Then something unusual happened.

He slowed near a small stand. Handcrafted trinkets swung from a canopy strung with beads—keychains, hairpins, and other things that screamed cute. That alone was enough to catch your attention. But what caught your eye more was him. Staring. At a chubby white seal keychain with a tiny pirate hat.

You blinked. No way.

You glanced at him again, noticing that he was still staring at the keychain, his expression unreadable. But you could see the way his fingers twitched, just barely, as if he wanted to reach out but was stopping himself. A strange flutter tickled at your chest.

He quickly stepped back, eyes scanning the crowd like nothing had happened. But you could feel a warmth spread through you at the thought that he—Law, the stoic and always composed captain—had been admiring something so… cute.

You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

⸻

You waited until the crew had returned to the ship. When Law had gone to oversee the loading of supplies, you slipped back to the marketplace and made your way to the vendor. The old woman with the sunhat noticed you right away.

“Back for that seal?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You picked it up, holding it in your hand as you smiled at her. “Something like that,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

She chuckled knowingly and wrapped the keychain in a piece of cloth before handing it to you. You paid, feeling a small excitement building in your chest as you thought about what you were about to do.

It wasn’t much—a simple keychain. But you had a feeling it would mean more than Law would admit.

⸻

Later that night, on the Polar Tang, you stood outside the captain’s quarters. Your hand hovered near your pocket. Nerves bubbled in your chest like carbonated soda.

Just give it. It’s not a confession. It’s just a keychain.

Knocking lightly, you stepped in when he called.

Law glanced up from his maps. “What is it?”

You tossed the wrapped keychain on his desk. “Don’t open it until I leave.”

His brow lifted. “Why?”

“Because if you make a face, I don’t want to see it.”

That got a rare smirk out of him. “You’re assuming I’d react.”

“I know you’d react,” you said, backing toward the door. “And you better not throw it out.”

You were gone before he could say anything else.

⸻

A few days had passed, and the crew had been busy with the usual preparations. You were securing boxes with Penguin when you spotted something strange on the deck.

Law stood by the stern of the ship, his ever-present sword, Kikoku, resting on his shoulder as usual. But this time… something new had been added.

A tiny white seal keychain dangled from the guard of Kikoku. The sight of it made your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you rushed over to Shachi, who was standing nearby.

“Wait, is that…?” Shachi leaned in closer, his eyes widening. “That wasn’t there before, right?”

You quickly tugged him away, your face flushing with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. “Don’t ask.”

Shachi raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. “Why not?”

You smiled, trying to keep the moment between you and Law private. “Because he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

⸻

Later that day, you found yourself walking down the hallway, lost in thought. You hadn’t meant to run into Law, but of course, you did. He was standing there, leaning against the wall as if lost in his thoughts.

For a moment, you just watched him, noticing the way his shoulders relaxed, his usually guarded expression softened just a bit. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you couldn’t resist the urge to speak up.

“It looks good on Kikoku,” you said, your voice quiet but carrying through the space between you.

Law turned slowly, his eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment before shifting away again. “You said not to throw it out,” he replied, his voice low, but there was something almost… shy in his tone.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. “I didn’t expect you to actually use it,” you said softly, walking toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Law’s eyes flicked down to the keychain, then back to you. He didn’t say anything at first, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, in a voice so quiet you almost missed it, he muttered, “Don’t tell the crew I like it.”

You blinked, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, as if unsure how to continue. And you, for the first time in a while, felt that fluttering warmth deep in your chest. Something had shifted between the two of you, something unspoken but undeniable.

⸻

That night, after the rest of the crew had retired for the evening, you stayed behind in the mess hall. The air was thick with the scent of leftover food and the faint hum of the ship’s engines. You sat at one of the tables, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your cup.

A few minutes later, Law walked in, holding a cup of tea in his hand. He looked around, and when his gaze landed on you, he paused for a moment, clearly surprised that you were still there.

He walked over to the table and sat across from you, his posture relaxed, as if he’d grown accustomed to having you around. The silence between you was different tonight—easier, comfortable even. It wasn’t heavy or awkward.

After a few moments, he broke the silence. “Why do you always sit near me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked up at him, a playful grin crossing your face. “Because you let me,” you said, leaning back in your chair.

He stared at you for a moment, his lips slightly parted as if unsure how to respond. “It’s not that I mind,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “So, you do mind?”

He caught your gaze, then looked away, his cheeks slightly flushed. “That’s not what I said.”

Your heart fluttered at the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. You leaned forward slightly, your hand resting on the table. “Do you like cute things, Law, or just that seal?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Instead, his fingers tapped his cup thoughtfully. “…I like some things,” he said, his voice unusually soft.

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

Law finally looked at you, his eyes intense. He paused for a beat before speaking, his words carrying an unexpected weight. “Like you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You couldn’t believe he had just said that. The air between you felt charged, thick with unspoken emotions.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “You think I’m cute?”

His lips twitched slightly. “You’re cute when you’re not annoying.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth rush to your cheeks. “Wow. High praise.”

He smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. But there was something softer in his eyes now—something that told you he wasn’t just teasing.

⸻

The conversation lingered between you both like a quiet melody, filling the empty space of the mess hall. You could feel the tension building, the unspoken words that hovered between your breaths. The moment felt fragile, as though it could slip away if you didn’t do something.

You stood slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you moved. “What’s the matter, Law?” you said, your voice low, teasing. “You going to do something about this?”

He didn’t move. His gaze stayed locked on yours.

“Try me,” he said.

So you did.

You leaned down, kissed him gently—warm, slow, real.

And when you pulled back, you caught it. That flicker of red near his ears.

“Don’t tell the crew about this either?” you whispered.

His voice was husky. “Especially not them.”

[thewritingfairy]

When I think of nobody's child I feel that one of the most depressing and scary things is that the reader can't learn self defense/will have the hardest time learning it because of how their medical condition is, especially how it's got after Jason's beating.

I was thinking of an idea you can make into an UA where the reader's mother was secretly an ex assassin or a spy or something like that who was so good at what she was doing to the point that even Bruce didn't suspect a thing when he met her. He thought that she was a completely Normal person.

Maybe she left the field when she got pregnant, or maybe because of her medical condition.

The mom believes that the best way to protect someone is to teach them how to protect themselves. so she ends up teaching the reader how to fight, how to read people and how to know if someone is a danger.

I remember reading from a book named Spy secrets that can save your life. It's talked about trusting your sense of danger and knowing how to read people and situations.

It said that one of the best ways to not get in danger is to avoid it in a safe way. Know when to be nice and when to show how much you don't trust.

I wonder how much may change with this. Imagine the reader not telling the fam about how strong they are but the one who started to really see that they are strong are Damian and Cassandra.

Damian attacked them with a katana and in the kitchen and they blocked him and fight him of using a pan. (I took this one from Rapunzel 😅) Like imagine Cass walking in on the 'Normal' kid fighting the son of assassins. 🗡️vs🍳

Also imagine when Damian attacked Tim the reader defended him (using the pan again?).

I believe in this UA they will tell the reader about their nightly activities. Maybe the reader didn't want to join because they know their medical condition and how the vigilant life can negatively affect it.

I don't know how Jason attacking them will go. But if they are strong enough to fight off Damian they will be strong enough to fight him off (?).

Anyway, I love how you portraited Jason. Even if he is a bigger asshole in this fic (I love Jason) he's still believable in a way. I can imagine a universe that has a Jason who is like that. I mean there's a universe where Bruce sacrifices Damian to a Demon to protect Gotham.

Love your work. Please take care.

-😶‍🌫️

Story mentioned: Nobody's child

First off, I absolutely understand why you feel that Reader's inability to defend themselves is one of the most scary and depressing thing. But what I believe is the scariest part about this is, they used to be able too. Reader always had moments of great health. Before Jason's attack Reader was already losing strength, but they didn't know why, after Jason's attack their illness just flared up.

They were able to defend Tim because their mom made sure to keep their health up when their first health flare disappeared. Reader's mama was basically obsessed with preventing another flare up, but did that obsessing in a productive and non-toxic way.

But your au idea is a good one, and Jason's attack would still make sense as well as the other details (to an extent). Health can come in waves, some weeks I do have the strength to carry 4 kilos with both arms. Some days I cannot carry 1 kilo with my bad arm. And I used to be able to lift up to 10 and 20 kilos (something I was really proud of and my doctor too, this was with the help of my bad arm/shoulder. I am advised to not pick up more then 2 to 3 kilos alone with my shoulder as it could stress my birth condition severely if I lift the object wrong).

Reader's health also comes in waves, and their waves are more problematic then mine because due to their drive to get out of the Wayne manor they forget to take care of themselves. And they have no one to help them, sometimes a wave is just too harsh and you cannot get out of it yourself, so their health tends to get worse and worse until their friends (and Duke) can help them or motivate them to try and get their health back.

But I like the pan idea, tangled is my favourite practice new languages movie bcs the humour of the pan hitting Flinn or another character translates in every language.

[itzpookiepooh]

Uncomfortable

You hate change (I hate change)

Caleb knew it well how much you hated change. You hated it so much that it made you cry. Today you needed to replace your mattress that you were oh so happy with. You could sleep in it and that’s all that mattered. So when you absolutely had to get a new one you were a good sport about it. You let them bring it in and you let Caleb put it together. Everything was fine until it was time to sleep in it.

You got cozy and laid there for a few minutes before you burst into tears. Caleb was so confused because you did well the whole day. He comforted you as best he could. He felt bad but he couldn’t have you sleeping like that for much longer. You bawled like you’ve never bawled before making Caleb worried. He grabs your face so you’ll look at him.

“I don’t want a new bed.” You cried as fat tears rolled down your cheeks and his hands. He cooed before pulling you into him. Sadly, the bed was already gone.

“The bed was messed up, pips. I’m sorry.” He rocks you side to side trying to calm you down.

When you do calm down, you tell yourself it’s not that bad. You just needed to cry first and it may have taken a while especially with having to break the bed in however, you got use to it. Caleb was so happy that you warmed up to the bed or else he would’ve had to drag it from the curb.

Xavier watched as you stared at your new pillows that he convinced you to buy. Your old ones were as flat as a SIM card and hurt your neck. You missed your old ones that were just across the room. You laid on them and they were comfortable but you had that nagging feeling. You were making yourself uncomfortable just thinking about getting them earlier.

You had changed your mind as soon as it felt real. You picked them up just to put them back down again. You didn’t want them nor did you want to change a part of something you were comfortable in. Xavier explained to you that you’d really mess your neck up trying to sleep on the old ones. You tried that night to sleep on them and it wasn’t the best night sleep—you could admit but you kept the old pillows on the bed just in case.

“It’s alright. The first night is always the hardest, I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He reassures you as he lays with you the second night.

“I’ll try again.” You answer softly. It took a few nights before these pillows became your favorite. Xavier was just happy that your neck wouldn’t hurt anymore.

You decided to face this overbearing fear of change and rearrange your room. The room had been the exact same since you moved in and you refused to change it. You got this burst of needing something different so you moved everything. All was well, bedtime, morning routine but suddenly that change felt uncomfortable.

When Rafayel came home he saw you moving the mattress back where it originally was. He slowly blinks at your actions. Didn’t you just move everything yesterday? You had a determined look on your face as you moved everything. He didn’t argue with you he knows how you get. Instead of asking questions he helps you put everything back.

“Didn’t like it?” He finally asks when it’s over, your exhausted bodies falling onto the mattress.

“Hated it.” You pant making him chuckle. He didn’t mind you thought this way because he of all people knew change was a hard thing to overcome.

You got a laptop for Christmas one year from Zayne. It became your favorite thing in the world. You would watch all your favorite videos on it. You took great care of it too! Zayne was glad you loved his gift and he loved seeing you smile every time you used it. That is until it broke, the second time. The first time was an easy fix since you sent it back to be fixed and all was well for a while.

This time it broke and wouldn’t turn back on. A ping sounded and it never came back on. This devastated you and you cried for a long time. This was your laptop and you loved it so much. Yeah it may have had its complications but it was your baby. You even tried to unscrew it and fix it yourself to which Zayne stopped you. He went with you to have it looked at and the people at the shop were very kind. They didn’t feel right taking money from you not knowing if they could even fix something this expensive.

“I just want my laptop.” You cried as Zayne comforted you on the couch. He knew how much this disheartened you.

“I know but they can’t fix it. Things get old and stop working. We’ll find you a new one.” He reassured you, wiping those tear stained cheeks.

You searched and searched for a computer that looked similar to your old one. You quit a few times saying you’ll just pay them whatever to fix whatever. Endless sad nights and you were even more upset because you couldn’t watch anything new on anything else but your beloved laptop. This was until you found the perfect laptop. It was from the same company and it looked similar to yours! You bought it so quick and when it came you were nervous that you’d hate it. You ended up absolutely adoring it.

“Feel better?” Zayne asks kissing your temple as you nod enthusiastically. He was happy you were happy. You did however keep the old one just in case and Zayne didn’t bother to ask about it.

Sylus is willing to make your life 100 times easier if you tell him to. So imagine him when you had to get rid of your raggedy old fan. You lost the cover of it in a move, it was stained beyond repair and the nail in the coffin? It began to make this clicking noise you just couldn’t stop. It has fallen over many times too many to count honestly Sylus has tried many times before to get you to get a new one. He offered to buy whatever you found and liked. You told him simply, you don’t like change.

You hated the noise and the temporary fix was to tie a fuzzy sock around it. You had enough and went to get a new one. You were in the aisle iffy about every single one you saw. You didn’t want to do this anymore. You love that fan, why can’t it just act right? Sylus showed you powerful ones and ones similar to your old one.

You settled on one and took it home and boy was it quiet and powerful. You were so happy and so was Sylus because it couldn’t possibly live through seeing that fan much longer. He was happy that you found something that fit you. He snapped his fingers making the fan disappear to the trash outside with a smile.

“Good riddance.” He smirked before getting ready for bed. You slept soundly that night cuddled into Sylus. He won’t lie he was in love with the fan too.

These are personal experiences? 😅🌚

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — ELEMENT OF SURPRISE ˚

꒰ synopsis : another day, another celebration with the straw hats but this time, the truth begins to creep out as zoro begins to let loose. ꒱

꒰ content : zoro roronoa x reader ; alcohol use (zoro is drinking a cup of sake), use of the term “pretty girl”, fluff — WC : 1.9k ꒱

꒰ Whispers of the Wind anthology ꒱

The wispy chill of the fading twilight’s salty breeze brushes across your face, along the cheeks that were warm with the glow of celebration — another party amongst the Straw Hats that left your heart feeling full.

There was no telling exactly what they were celebrating this time around but judging by the spread on the table, it was because someone had caught a huge fish. 

Which of course meant Sanji had to pull out all the stops — heaping trays full of colorful appetizers and bottomless cups of booze flitting around the deck of the Sunny that was drumming with a buzz of joy and laughter only the captain could summon up.

It was quite the sight to see.

Soundlessly stalking up beside you with the quiet lethality of a tiger, Zoro’s arm lazily wraps around your shoulders. It was a welcomed weight, a subtle show of how comfortable the swordsman was by your side and the notion made your heart swell.

“Hey.” His voice is gruff but his chest is warm as he mindlessly pulls you closer to it. A homey hearth with a tiny flame of affection that would spark to life whenever he had just a mere drop of alcohol in his system.

The liquid courage made the walls around his heart wobbly, his actions becoming more fluid than they normally would be on a regular basis. 

You lived for leisurely times like these.

“Hi, Zo,” You smile sweetly, looking up at him. Your breath almost hitches at the heavenly sight. His unfairly long lashes sweep across his cheek as he blinked down at you with his steely eye. Involuntarily, you touch his chiseled jaw, tracing along the sharp lines as his pointed gaze stays on you. He remains unmoving but you swore you heard the slightest hitch in his breath. Maybe the alcohol affected you in the same way. “Having fun?”

“Now I am.” A satisfied smirk droops across his face before he takes a sip of his drink. It was always easy to see the love that Zoro held in his heart if you knew where to look.

His eye always gave him away.

The sparkle of joy that twinkled like the north star in the otherwise dark and cloudy sky, one filled with the hope of tomorrow and a contentment that is only brought on by being surrounded with the people you can truly let your guard down around.

Zoro didn’t give his feelings up freely, but after a while, he didn’t really need to. Not only were you an expert at reading the stoic swordsman, but the others also became more attune to him as well. Something you’re almost sure he’s never had before he joined Luffy on the journey that changed the trajectory of his life.

“Why don’t we go join them?” You nod over to where Luffy and Usopp are playing a game on the deck, laughing and goofing off together. You wince as Lufffy shoved sticks in his mouth to resemble a walrus and started running circles around a scrambling Usopp — Chopper now in tow and squealing after them.

“Those idiots?” He raises an eyebrow but the glint in his eye tells you everything you need to know. Zoro gives your shoulders an extra squeeze. “Nah, I'm right where I want to be.”

The honest words strike your heart, something said so effortlessly yet leaves you with warming cheeks that rivals the sake that burns down your throat.

“You’re an idiot too, you know.” You can’t help but poke back at him, trying to calm your ever racing heart. But there was no way he didn’t notice the sudden uptick in its beat.

“We all are.” He scoffs amused, “Why else would we join this crew?”

“Fair." The wind picks up and you find yourself burrowing into Zoro's strong side a little more, his arm tightening around you protectively. “We might as well enjoy the show then.”

“Now you’re talkin’.” 

The warmth of Zoro’s palm ghosts along your lower back as he leads you to the nearby bench, settling in next to you as you take a seat. The laughter and music from the deck fades away into something softer as you two tuck yourselves away on the outskirts of the celebrations. 

Wordlessly, he shifts even closer, so close that the distinct whiff of sea, steel, and sake greets your nose, a scent that never failed to ground you in this ever changing world.

With a subtle, yet almost teasing smile, Zoro glances down at you for a brief moment before covering the delicate curl of his lip with his trusty cup of sake, using it to veil the deep effect you undoubtedly had on him. The hand that kissed your back finds your hip after sliding around your waist and pulling you until you’re flush against him.

 The fleeting glance turns away from you, dousing you with a chill from the loss of his warmth. Even though he watches the crew with his everwatchful eye, it’s clear by the firm grip on your side that his attention is here with you.

And you couldn’t stop staring at him.

Something must’ve happened because in the next moment, Zoro barked out a laugh. The kind that takes your whole body to enforce, bubbling and bursting from somewhere deep inside, after having been choked down for so long, finally free to meld into the night air and ease a hidden weight off of his sturdy shoulders.

The usual sharp lines of his features grew dreamlike as a wide smile stretched along his face and you swore you could count all of his teeth. The force of the laugh shook you slightly, encouraging you to join him even though you didn’t really have a clue on what he was laughing at.

But it didn’t matter.

“What?” Zoro’s attention flits back to you, looking down and raising an eyebrow with a slight smirk resting on his handsome features.

“Nothing.” You pause, letting the words marinate in the sweetness of your tongue just a little bit longer, letting it melt into honey before it effortlessly spills from your lips. “I just missed seeing you smile.”

“Oi, don’t give me that crap.” His cheeks dusted pink, blooming all the way to the tips of his ears, leaving a speckle of warmth that you can’t help but find endearing. Even as he scowled, he still managed to leave you breathless.

“Well, you asked.” You fire back, trying to maintain some semblance of control in the exchange that you were quickly falling victim to. 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d get all sappy on me.” Zoro takes another swig, some of the sake dribbling down his chin. Transfixed, you watch as the droplet flows down his skin, clinging along his cheek. The sight ushers in a sense of envy as the liquid kisses in places you could only hope to.

“You must not know me very well then.” You tease, fingers twitching to clean it up but his tongue beats you to the punch. The motion has you licking your own lips, a single swipe that does not go unnoticed by the swordsman.

“No, I know you.” The seriousness in his voice almost stopped your heart. The previous banter subsided into a distant dream as reality washed all over you. Now, it was your turn to be flustered.

“Oh stop.” You dismissively wave your hand in the air and he’s quick to catch it, the glass of sake he was holding in his hand was now resting beside him on the bench, the motion happening so quickly you didn't even see.

“I'm serious.” Zoro pauses for a moment, his grip loosening. Instinctively, your hold tightens as your body tenses, your breath trapped in your lungs as you listen intently. “I know you better than anyone else on this ship. Hell, maybe even the world.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I don't forget anything when it comes to you. Everything you say or do stays in my brain. I've known you long enough that I know your tells for whenever you’re not feeling well. How your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes or when you nervously play with your fingers as you try to find a way to speak up.” The pads of his fingers touch yours, spreading them out before they slide along them, interlocking with yours. “I know you.”

“I didn't know you paid that much attention to me.” You murmur as he drops your hand, the loss feeling too great as your own retreats back into your lap. Zoro takes his glass and polishes off the rest of the sake that was responsible for his loose lips. For a man who said he never had a way with words, he’d have his moments where time seemed to stop, that every word he uttered had a gravitational pull that lured you in. 

“You’re hard to miss.” He sighed a bit, muttering under his breath. “Impossible to ignore.”

The tidal wave of shock passes over you, leaving you drenched in his honesty. Was it a trick of fate that had your faces pulling together, gazes set on the others lips? Or was it a whirlwind of desire that pushed you forward, the universe begging for the collision that would become a catalyst against the world?

“Ma bien-aimée!” Sanji interrupted with a smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. The sudden emergence of the chef had you jumping back and away from the swordsman, your heart threatening to thump out of your chest and spill out onto the wooden deck floor. “Can I get you another drink? Or perhaps a snack?”

Before you have a chance to catch your breath and answer, Zoro lets out a low huff beside you, muscles tensing under the strain of his annoyance with the cook that never failed to drive him up the wall.

“Oi, eyebrows.” Zoro leveled a glare, one that Sanji quickly matched, his eye narrowing at the man before him. The energy around the three of you grew tense in a heartbeat, an effect you’re used to whenever these two were in close proximity to each other. “Don’t you have something better to do than bother us?”

“I wasn't talking to you.” Sanji snapped back, his attention on you never wavering. “I was talking to the one who is always happy to see me.”

Zoro grumbled something under his breath, no doubt another insult resting at the tip of his tongue, tainted by a swirl of jealousy that not even the booze could wash down. 

“It's okay, Sanji. I don't need anything right now but thank you.” You smile, trying to diffuse the tension that was steadily building like a ticking time bomb ready to implode.

“Anything for you my sweet, but don’t let this big green oaf squander your desires.” Sanji moved a little closer, causing Zoro's eye to twitch. “What would you like?”

The swordsman couldn’t hold back anymore, his swords drawn with the speed that only Sanji could pull from him whenever they quarrel. The cook was more than ready, countering with a kick of his own.

The two continued to fight, a flurry of limbs in front of you. Across the deck, you make eye contact with Nami and give her an exasperated look before getting up and making your way over to her.

There was no way you were going to entertain one of their spats, the two lost in their own world for a little while as you mourn the lost moment you could’ve had with the swordsman who’s been steadily claiming your heart.

thank you for reading !!! :3

[kxsagi]

ok i'm literally about to rip my head off instg. I'm asking because I LOVE your writing, but does anyone remember a ff with Kaiser with multiple trigger warnings (no NSFW) with reader who ran away from home and met him while she was rummaging through the garbage for food? That was the lore or something like that, ISTG I'M GOING INSANE BECAUSE I WAS STARTING TO LOVE IT AND IF SOMEONE CAN FIND IT I MIGHT MARRY THEM. Please let's help each other 🙏

“𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐩”

a/n: girl i’mma be so honest… i have no idea which fic this is and i’ve never read it 😭

but since you really wanna find it… and i like the plot idea… i figured i would write my own version

but if anyone finds the original, pls comment or message me their @ so i can tag them and credit them! 

(art credits go to jinxx_yu on X)

tw: child neglect, poverty, homelessness, implied abuse, food insecurity, emotional distress

you’re ten when you meet him. and you haven’t eaten in two days. 

it’s early morning, still foggy with dew, and the back alley behind the bakery is quiet, save for the soft rustle of your hands digging through the bin. you’re small enough to go unnoticed, quick enough to run if you’re not. but your legs feel heavy today. slow. your stomach cramps with every movement, and your fingers are shaking so bad you almost drop the stale muffin you find. 

you’re about to shove it into your mouth when a voice says, “hey.” 

you spin around, heart in your throat. 

a boy stands there. not much older than you. probably your age, even. but taller. sharper. he’s not wearing a shirt, just black sweatpants a little too big for his slim figure. he doesn’t look scared. doesn’t look mean, either. just curious. 

you narrow your eyes. “what do you want?” 

he remains calm, hands resting in his pockets. “nothing. just… i come here, too.” 

you blink. “to… dig?” 

he shrugs. “sometimes they throw out the ones that are only a little old. if you get here early enough, they’re not soggy yet.” 

you stare at him for a beat. and then you look down at the muffin in your hand. 

“… you want half?” you offer, quiet. 

he’s shocked. you’re too bright for someone living like this. 

“you serious?” 

you break the muffin in two, handing him the bigger half. 

“you’re weird,” he says, taking it. 

“so are you.” 

the two of you sit on the curb, eating in silence. crumbs fall into your laps. he tells you his name is michael, but he says it with an accent (mee-kha-el) and then adds, “but i prefer kaiser.” 

“why?” you ask. 

he shrugs again. “just… sounds cooler.” 

you snort. “okay, kaiser.” 

he grins a little, and it makes your chest feel warm. 

you learn a lot about him that morning. like how he hates the rain because of how fast it soaks his already-worn-out shoes. and how his dad makes everything he does a punishment. how sometimes he climbs on top of the bus stop just to feel above it all. 

you tell him you ran away because home didn’t feel like home. you don’t give details in the moment. you don’t need to. he doesn’t ask. 

“we’re kinda the same,” he says, picking at a loose thread on his waistband. “like… like nobody wanted us. so we had to want ourselves.” 

you glance at him. it’s the first time anyone’s ever said something like that to you. something that feels true. 

you nod. “yeah. we have to be our own people.” 

he holds out a pinky. “so let’s promise.” 

“promise what?” 

“that we’ll find a way out. not just survive. like… really live. better than them. better than this.” 

your throat burns. not from hunger this time. 

you hook your pinky with his. “promise.” 

𐙚

years later, you’re standing in the world’s loudest stadium. confetti rains gold. his name echoes across the world. 

but michael kaiser only sees you. 

you’re at the edge of the field, eyes glassy, mouth trembling with a smile. the same way you looked when you shared half a muffin with him behind a bakery all those years ago. 

he doesn’t hesitate, he jumps the barrier, running straight into your arms. 

“we made it,” he breathes, medal warm between your chests. 

you nod, laughing through tears. “yeah. from trash bins to trophies.” 

he kisses you like a promise kept. 

and when he lifts the world cup over his head, he looks at the cameras, the crowds, the sky, but smiles only at you. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error: 410 (Self Aware!AU Caleb Edition) Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader.

Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, fluff, Stressedout!reader, Hypersexual!reader.

Word count: 1k

Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog

"Your words, eyes, and hands only belong to me My dreams, smiles, and daydreams are solely for you As I couldn't find you, I am getting lost in the sky now I find myself dancing with your own hands"

You have a new message from Caleb!

We'll only say hello from now on, there won't be any goodbyes

You woke up to the embrace of warm sheets surrounding you. You didn’t want to get up, not really. Not when the bed was so warm. You lay under the covers lazily for a while until you heard your name being called.

You sat up with a groan, stretching your arms. Picking up the cup of coffee placed on the bedside table. You woke up just in time; it was still warm. You stood up, taking a few sips of the warm drink. That felt so much better. Coffee always made waking up a little bit better.

Walking outside of the room, you saw Caleb already standing in the kitchen. He was making breakfast, leaning against the kitchen counter, the morning paper held in his hands.

“Morning, sunshine. It’s 8:45 in the morning. That’s a new record for you on the weekends, isn’t it?” He asked, a smile on his face. You just rolled your eyes in response, walking over to the kitchen, sipping on your morning coffee.

“That’s rich coming from someone who wakes up at 1:30 in the afternoon.” You said, walking up to him and resting your head on his arm, letting him press soft kisses on your forehead.

“Not really since that was a one-time thing, and you never wake up before 10 on the weekends, 9:30 if I’m being generous.” Caleb said, watching you put your empty coffee cup in the sink.

“Mhm… Good morning to you too.” You said, walking over to the bathroom. He could be so annoying sometimes. You picked up your toothbrush. The sound of plates clicking from the kitchen echoed through the apartment.

When you walked out of the bathroom, the breakfast was already set on the small coffee table in infront of your couch. You sat down in infront of him, muttering a small thanks as you picked up your plate, glancing at the newspaper that he had placed beside your usual seat.

“What’s your schedule this month?” You muttered, focusing on your breakfast. His cooking was always so good. Fluffy and soft pancakes that are not too sweet. Just how you liked them.

Caleb was a good cook, a great cook, in fact, but sometimes the things he’d give you would almost make you question his sanity and taste buds.

“You know, the usual.” Caleb said in reply, his brown eyes looking at you. Both of you could get so caught up in work that sometimes you couldn’t find time to spend with each other. “You want me to take a few days off?”

“No, it’s fine… Besides, my schedule is full. I have a few cases lined up, so it wouldn’t really be a wise decision to take days off when I’m still going to be working.” You said, chewing on the pancakes in your mouth, leaning forward to take a blueberry off of his plate with your fork. “Unless you want to spend it on yourself.”

Caleb shook his head, his warm brown eyes finding yours. “Was that something you did in your past relationships?”

“Not really. I mean, my dad used to. He is really fond of traveling, and my mom isn’t. So, he’d usually plan trips with his friends, and sometimes they’d fight about it, but in the end, he would get his way and go whenever he and his friends decided they wanted to visit.”

“And how did that feel? Didn’t you want to travel around with your dad, or did you prefer staying at home like your mom?”

“It was fine, I guess. Sometimes I wanted to go, but I knew he wouldn’t take me with him, so I just never said anything. And the house was always slightly calm compared to the usual whenever he would be away... That honestly sounds so horrible to say.” You said with a small chuckle. You didn’t even know why you told him that.

“Hmm... well, would you prefer traveling with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like it a lot…but in the future—just not now.”

Hours later, you and Caleb were lying on the couch together. His head lay on your stomach, his fingers tapping your thigh as your fingers ran through his hair.

Honestly, you both preferred this over usual dates. Of course, dates were always amazing, but sometimes you just want to stay in bed and relax and binge-watch some TV, which was perfectly fine.

Caleb’s hair was really soft. That thought had crossed your mind multiple times since you had started watching this Netflix series with him, The Crown.

You glanced down at him, and he looked completely focused on the series. “You know, I don’t really get it.” You said, shrugging as you shifted your gaze to watch the episode playing on the screen.

“Get what?”

“I don’t know why you watch all this. I mean, there is no monarchy in your world, and it’s just a bunch of people’s lives being played up for drama. Why is this interesting to you?”

“Should I ask you the same question when you’ll eventually sit down and watch those crime documentaries?”

“That’s different.”

“It really isn’t. Besides, it’s something new, isn’t that a good enough reason?”

“I guess…”

Slowly, you and Caleb had built a home with each other. Saved up money together and bought an apartment together. Though it was more about the feeling of being safe and being together that made this apartment a home for you two.

Even though everything was like a fairy tale most of the time, every relationship has its own flaws.

It was nothing you both couldn’t handle together.

But it did worry you, especially his nightmares.

He had been getting them almost every night.

You groaned, pulling the sheets over yourself, your hand reaching out to touch Caleb, but your hands found cold sheets instead. He wasn’t here. You yawned, sitting up on the bed. One of your eyes closed, trying to cling to the comfort of sleep.

Caleb was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, one of his hands resting on your ankle. He didn’t even turn to look at you. “Go back to sleep, honey.” He said, his voice sent shivers down your spine. It sounded... scared.

You rubbed your eyes, disregarding his words and crawling up to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek against his back. “You should’ve woken me up. I don’t mind…”

“I know… I was just—I didn’t want to worry you.” He said, with a sigh, his hands reaching up to hold yours. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses on your fingertips.

“You want to go back to sleep… or we could go to the kitchen and eat something. Maybe watch a small movie if you want?” You said, your free hand rubbing the side of his arm gently.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Caleb asked, intertwining your fingers, squeezing your hand gently.

“I can take a day off; it won’t kill anyone… hopefully.” You asked with a smile, yet Caleb didn’t reply, just letting out a hum in response. “It was a joke…”

“A really bad one.” Caleb replied, letting go of your hand. His hand found your ankle, pulling you closer against his back. His hands held your thighs, picking you up in a piggyback style. Your hands are wrapping around his neck.

“I found it funny.”

“Of course you would.” He replied. Walking out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. He gently sat you down on the kitchen counter before letting go. “What do you want to eat?”

“There is chocolate ice cream in the freezer.” You replied, picking up two spoons, watching Caleb open the freezer and take out a tub of chocolate ice cream. He handed it to you, taking one of the spoons from your hands as you opened the tub of ice cream.

You scooped up the ice cream, putting it in your mouth—it was rich and sweet but so, so cold. Making your face curl up. Caleb chuckled, looking at you as he put a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. “Too cold?” He asked, smiling when he saw you nod.

He stared at you for a minute, letting out a sigh. He couldn’t stop having nightmares. It terrified him because every time he slept, all he could dream about was you dying. Something happened to you when he wasn’t here, when he wasn’t holding you close.

You could take care of yourself, he knew. And if that wasn’t enough, he can teach you how to.

A nudge broke him out of his thoughts, looking at you to see a spoonful of ice cream in your hands, near his mouth, your other hand hovering under the spoon to make sure nothing would spill.

Caleb smiled, leaning forward and taking the spoon in his mouth, letting himself savor the taste of the dessert.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

He was happy like this.

With you.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine and he’ll be fine.

Because at the end of the day;

you were together.

A/N: Wow, this is the last chapter of the series. I don't have a lot to say right now but there will be a (probably) long author's note about this series posted in a few days. Please leave any comments you might have about this series in the comments and I'm gonna answer it to the best of my abilities in the Author's note.

There is gonna be a spin off series. I'll talk to you all properly in that post, answer any questions you might have so stay tuned. Have a nice day!

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