#it is actually entirely finished and ready to go so the only thing left to do is put the chapters out

[ninawolv3rina]

Hey psst anyone who likes my writing might want to follow @blood-water-serial 👀

[gracieheartspedro]

Lessons in Art History

my main masterlist - eddie munson masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 10.5k (tehe sorry not sorry)

description: eddie needs to graduate. a stupid summer art class is getting in his way. luckily for him, his neighbor and childhood crush is an art history major. and you're ready to make a deal.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, reader is in college, both parties are 18+, mention of abusive parents, drug use, consumption of alcohol, mentions of relying on alcohol, mentions of body mutilation, eddie is a doesn't understand art and you really do, smut, lots of tension, no mention of specific body type, dubcon (both are under the influence, they are tipsy/high), oral (f recieving) unprotected p in v, body worship, dirty talk, eddie cums 'quickly', eddie finishes inside. eddie just really loves your body. aftercare.

authors note: this has been sitting in my docs forever. i finally finished it on a whim. enjoy me combining two things i really love! art history and eddie munson <3 if you guys want to see more of these two, pls don't hesitate to pop in my asks. also thank you to my beta's aka @pedgito and @amanitacowboy! kisses to the both of you! MUAHHH!!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

sweet moodboard my dearest @amanitacowboy made for this fic <3

Eddie did not understand art. 

The fact that he even had to take the stupid art history course in summer school aggravated him. When the teacher would blab on and on about different mediums and their importance to history, he found himself almost dozing off. Sure some of the paintings they were studying were cool, but it seemed very… pretentious.��

But he’s failing and he can not be failing. 

As soon as he saw your old Chevy pull into the driveway across from his, he knew he was in for a treat this summer. Seeing you again would only send his heart racing, he knew that for sure. When he sees you in passing, mainly when he’s heading to the school in the morning, you always offered a passive wave and pleasant smile. You had only gotten more beautiful since you left for college. 

Luckily for him, his childhood crush and next door neighbor was in college studying Fine Arts and she was home for the summer. Finally. 

You had just concluded your freshman year at Indiana State University. It had been a dream of yours since you were a kid to go to school for art. Saving all your money made from the diner downtown helped with a good chunk of your first semester and your second semester was proudly sponsored by your rich aunt. Lucky you. 

You had plans to spend your summer working on some art pieces to build your resume. Your preferred medium was watercolors and oil paints, so your small bedroom was littered with canvases and cold-pressed sheets. You have lived in this trailer your entire life and it was by far the messiest it’s ever been. Not just from you, but from your mom and younger sister. You spent most mornings picking up after them, and you soon realize that’s all you have ever done your entire life. The reason the house was this bad was because you were now gone and not slaving to keep the base boards dusted. 

You needed to get out of the house. 

So you started spending time outside, occupying some lawn chairs on your back porch. The shade was limited to one corner of the broken down rotted wood, so you positioned the chair there and set up your easel. 

There had been a couple occasions in the time you have been home where you had seen your neighbors and had very basic conversations with them. You said hello to Max Mayfield when she skateboarded past your driveway, but you do not believe she actually heard you. Wayne Munson had waved to you one day when he was leaving for work. And then of course the moments you saw Eddie. 

He had not changed one bit, that boy. You had a sneaky small crush on him when you two shared a couple classes together your senior year. You had lived right across from him for practically your whole life, yet when he sat next to you in English class, you felt yourself stealing glances and sharing hushed jokes together. You were not sure if the crush was loosely based because you two were always in close proximity to each other, but he was cute. 

One particularly hot afternoon, you hear the crunching of your dying grass on the side of the house. You glance up from your canvas only to see him.

Eddie was supposed to graduate alongside you but between all his absences, bad grades, and mischievous behaviors, he failed. Twice. 

You put your paint down on a rusted out table, wiping the excess colors on your shirt with your elementary school mascot on it. 

“Hey,” You say lightly, shooting him a gentle smile. You could not lie that your stomach did a bit of a flip when his eyes locked with yours. And just like that, Eddie is reminded why he used to like you so damn much. 

Your smile was enough to make a man halt in place, and that’s exactly what he did. 

You seemed disheveled, which Eddie found oddly attractive. Your shirt was covered in dry and wet paint, looking like you just wipe whatever paint you’re not using on yourself. It was an array of colors, but mainly different hues of blues and yellows.

He quickly starts to regret his initial plan. Originally he was going to catch you leaving your house one day, asking how college was going, and see if you were interested in helping him study for his next test. But you never left your house at the same time, and he could not just casually hang out outside 24/7 waiting for you. That would be weird. Stalkerish. 

So after one particularly bad quiz, he worked up enough courage to walk straight up to you while you sat and worked magic. Problem was, he did not plan what to say, only thinking of it as he approached you. And of course, when you say ‘hello’, he quickly realizes you stole his voice with your gaze.

You just look at him, sensing he must be lost or something. 

He finally finds his voice after clearing away some phlegm, “I need your help.”

Your eyes flicker to your canvas, inspecting your work from another angle as you hop off the edge of your deck. Eddie starts to get nervous as you approach him, your eyes still firmly planted on your art. 

Eddie used to ask you for the dumbest favors when you two were kids. He used to knock on your door and ask for random ingredients, to walk with him to the mini mart down the street, just anything to get you out of your house and talking to him. 

Looking back now, it was kind of sweet he even thought to invite you, but you were not interested in helping with housework or walking along the back roads of Hawkins with him.

You finally look at him, pursing your lips in faux contemplation, “Eddie… I’m not helping you mow the grass-” He waves his hands in the air, halting you from talking. “No… it’s not that. I am in summer school-”

It was your turn to cut him off, planting your hands on your hips, “Again!?”

He exhales, bringing his ringed fingers over his face and dragging his lower lids down in frustration. 

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was not stupid. You knew he was smart if he applied himself. Problem was that he was bad about caring about school. You remember the days of sitting behind him in 10th grade Algebra and you almost failed with how much he interrupted class to laugh with some friends in the last row. He was the very opposite of yourself. 

He crosses his arms over his Metallica shirt that he’s been wearing for two years, using his fingers to fold his lower lip as you stand like a scolding mother.

“I need to pass this Art History class and I failed the first quiz already. I need it to finish out my credits. Please-” You roll your eyes, matching his stance by crossing your arms. Art History was the easiest subject to you and you adored learning more about it. And Eddie knew that, too. You realize you’ll have wet paint all over your arms as soon as your arm sticks to the front of your shirt. 

“What’s in it for me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, surprised that you are open to tutoring him so quickly. You watch him nod his head, dreaming up how he can repay you. “I’ll smoke you up whenever you want. And… whatever else you want, I guess.”

“Smoking me up whenever I want?”

You like the sound of that. You were just like every other art student at your college. Using substances to get you through each day. Lately, it’s been wine you get from the gas station down the road. But drunk painting is not as productive, so you mainly use it to numb all the other depressing things in your life at night. 

You missed smoking weed, but you have not had the budget to buy. 

But if tutoring Eddie Munson in your favorite subject would get you free weed, you could not say no. 

Eddie nods quickly at your response, desperate to pass. And if it meant hanging out with you, too, it was a win-win-win all around. “Yeah, I just need to pass this class-” You cut him off again, “Okay, fine. But we have to do it at your house.”

You did not need him seeing your hoard of paintings and messy house. And now you had an actual excuse to leave your house. 

Eddie shakes his head, blinking at you curiously. 

“Yeah, no problem,” He claps his hands in front of his body, twisting his foot a bit like a child would, “When can we start?” The wind picks up, and you watch his hair fly across his face. You giggle, watching him brush his locks away from his mouth. You could not deny how cute and endearing he could be occasionally. “What days do you have class?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

This would be a breeze, you think to yourself. You assume immediately that you would only need to see him two days a week. No big deal. 

You head back up to your deck, taking your canvas off the easel, “Then I’ll see you on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” You stop in movements as he simply states, “Today is Tuesday, sweetheart.”

Your head shoots around, seeing the cheeky smirk playing on his lips. The nickname he called you sends a slight shiver down your spine. It sounded nice coming from him. 

You roll your eyes, though, assuming he means you had to start today.

“Let me grab my notes and change,” His face brightens up at your words. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”

-

You soon realize two days a week was not going to help Eddie. You added Monday evenings to the equation pretty quickly when you realized he did not even have the proper textbook. 

“Emerson gave it to me! He told me it was the one he used last year!”

You just rolled your eyes and read his syllables to him, out loud, obnoxiously. He giggled the entire time, commenting about how you should have been a school teacher. 

You two would sit in his bedroom from five in the evening until 8 at night, mainly on his unmade bed, going over different texts and art pieces. Around 7, he would offer you to smoke, which you always agreed to. By 8:30, you were high as a kite and ready to go home. He would send you off with a ‘goodnight, sweetheart’ and watch you walk back over to your front door.

You notice pretty quickly he was always fiddling with his hands, tapping his pencils, biting his fingernails. He could not sit still and it drove you insane. You gave him one of your stress balls one day, hoping the silent squishing would ease his jitters, but instead he started throwing it up and the air. You took it from him soon after, scolding him. 

He was virtually impossible to teach.

You finally get him on track when they start studying Van Gogh. You would simply help Eddie interpret the art, as well as give him the basics information on the artist. 

He thinks it’s funny when you explain how Van Gogh cut off his ear, laughing hysterically when you show him the self portrait.

“Look at his goofy little hat! And the bandage around his head?”

You could not help yourself today. You roll your eyes and sit back against the edge of his bed, trying to redeem your resting easygoing expression. It was becoming too hard, but you distort your smile back on and pivot to him. His face is twisted in amusement, knowing his comment has you reeling.

It was only Monday and you had two more evenings explaining art to him. You could not get him to love the subject, but you try to place the ideas into his day to day life. It seems to stick better when you put it in those terms. It’s hard to do with Van Gogh, sadly, so you just listen to him cracking jokes until it’s time to smoke.

-

He hands you the joint, his lips pursed in contemplation as you take the hit. You are sitting back against his wall, crossing your legs vertically across his bed. You look more relaxed on his bed than he does. 

You exhale, handing him back back the roll. You really needed this high to bring the tension away from your shoulders.

“So, what did you learn today?” You probe, seeing if he actually learned anything. You would not be surprised if he said something about Van Gogh’s ear again. Instead, he just smirks at you, tilting his head back on his wooden headboard.

He takes a drag of the joint, his jaw ticking as he blows out the smoke. “That you’re very patient with me.”

You bite your cheek, preventing yourself for smiling. He could see right through you, no matter how hard you tried to disguise your annoyance with him. 

“You’re giving me free weed and all I have to do is explain basic concepts to you,” you explain, reaching over to him, brushing your arm across his knee and thigh. The physical touch leaves goosebumps all over your arm.

“Like 40 times, over and over again.”

You smirk at that, “Again. Free weed.”

“And the company, of course,” He says as he leans forward, poking your thigh with his pointer finger.

The comment makes your stomach flip, butterflies sprouting as you watch his smile get wider. 

You honestly would not have done this if it was any other guy from Hawkins High. You hated most of the people you graduated with, knowing they were all assholes or weird. Or both. 

And while Eddie was an oddball, he had manners and knew where to draw the line with you. He never made you feel unsafe or awkward. He was just so shamelessly himself and somehow that meshed well with your personality. 

“Yeah, you’re alright I guess,” You sneer, trying to act as coy as possible. You could feel the heat burning your cheeks and Eddie noticed it, too. He would not say anything though, just trying to rid his mind of the feeling of your arm brushing across his leg earlier.

-

“I just don’t get the point of big red squares on big black canvas.”

Week 4 proved to be the week where they throw high school summer school students into the deep end. You curse the teacher as soon as Eddie comes home with print outs of Mark Rothko’s abstract paintings.

You really enjoyed Rothko’s work, having seen it in person in Chicago on a school trip. You almost felt protective over his art. 

So when Eddie goes on his normal rambles about how silly art really is, you cannot help yourself.

You grab the print out of the unnamed yellow orange piece, “There’s nothing to get Eddie, it’s just…”

“You said this Rothko guy was this infamous artist and all he does is paint shapes,” He looks at the paper over your shoulder. He’s currently sprawled across his bed, while you sit on his floor with all the dust bunnies. His head is right next to yours and you can feel his curls laying on your bare shoulder. 

Why did you wear a tank top today?

You huff, sitting forward a bit, “Eddie, it’s not about what he wanted it to be, it’s what you interpret it as.” “Well it’s squares. That’s all I interpret, sweetheart.”

You inhale a deep breath, the anger rising within you turning quickly into how you could break down the kind-of pretentious pieces. You had to admit that Rothko’s ideas were pretty out there. You also knew that they seemed very grandiose to an average person, but he had his intentions in the right place.

“Can I explain it to you,” You look up at him, your faces inches away. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Cause you’re just… so wrong.”

A smile crosses his face, waiting for you to go into detail. “Go on, princess.”

You look back at the print, cocking your head to the side. You had explained his art to other people before but you knew you would have to phase it down a bit for Eddie.

“Rothko is not telling you to feel one way or another,” You point at the orange part of the pieces, “You may see those squares, but it’s more about the colors. The paint strokes. You see them in person and they are like… all consuming. His point was not to make something for himself, it was so that observer could reflect inward and use his art to their advantage. To grieve. To be happy. To reminisce. So it’s not about the squares. It’s about what the colors evoke.”

His finger points right beside where yours sits on the page, “What does this one say to you?”

You smile as you reflect on the painting. It’s not exactly where it needs to be. Rothko does not need to be a printed flimsy piece of paper, it needs a huge canvas, but it still evokes something in you. With Eddie over your shoulder, the ideas flowing within you sends goosebumps across your neck and back. His closeness only adds to the slowing of your heart rate.

“The yellow and salmon color make me hopeful. Like I can actually get somewhere and be something. It reminds me of some beautiful sunrises I’ve had the privilege of watching. Makes me feel like I’ll be alright.”

Eddie’s eyes search your face, watching your lips twitch as you observe the piece. It kind of spilled out of you. You try not to get too into your perceptions of art with him, simply just giving him information and making him write and conclude his own opinions. But art is the only thing in the world you felt held by and on rare occasions, you had to bare your soul. Eddie was just the unlucky bastard to hear about it.

The gentle way you describe things, every word sounding so precious, made Eddie’s whole head explode with adoration. He spent so many evenings watching you, quietly admiring the way you moved, the way you spoke, and while he knew the crush he harbored was major, it only got worse spending these last few weeks with you. He got to see your little unique quirks up close and he was hopelessly in love with you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, his voice a bit strained. You glance up at him, completely whiplashed by his response. 

The way he’s looking at you makes you believe he does not even realize he said that out loud. His eyes soften, as you scan his face. Your gaze falls to his lips before you finally speak up, your heartbeat in your ears.

“What?” 

His eyes widened, realizing his mistake. He sits back and snaps his gaze away from you. Your cheeks heat up as you come to realize you had read the situation correctly. He rubs his hand over his face in embarrassment, trying to gain his bearings.

“I’m.. I didn’t mean to… say that out loud.”

He’s fumbling over his words, which makes a smile creep across your face. You knew what it was to blunder like this, having done it one too many times with guys you liked. You wanted to reassure him without making it seem like too big of a deal. But boy, was it a big deal. 

“It’s okay,” You manage to say, trying not to giggle. You cannot help yourself, though. As soon as the breath leaves your mouth, he groans.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He is standing up now, rolling off his bed. His tall frame starts to pace his bedroom, his hands never leaving his face. He could not bear to look at you.  

You pull your knees into your chest, trying to ease his nerves with a simple, “Don’t be sorry, it’s completely okay.”

He stops in his tracks, placing his hands on his hips. You cannot help but find him charming, his face all red, his hair untidy, his shirt twisted from the way he was laying. You had to admit, in a not-out-loud-way, that he was beautiful, too.

“You just got on that whole tangent and the passion you had for the art put me in a trance and…” He starts to pace again when he sees your lips curve up, “I just… yeah.”

You giggle, his words sending your heart racing even more, “I put you in a trance, huh?”

He slaps his hand over his forehead, realizing he can not stop saying stupid things. “Studying session over. ‘M rolling a joint.”

-

It was final day. 

The last couple weeks with Eddie consisted of a lot of him really diving in head first into the topics they were discussing in class. While he still needed your guidance on dissecting certain pieces and how they related back to the artists, he was coming home with quizzes that had red scribbled ‘B’s’ on the top of the paper. That’s all he needed to pass. 

You had settled with the fact that Eddie was never going to bring up what he said to you again. After that evening, he was hesitant to even sit a foot away from you, always residing on the opposite side of the room. 

It hurt a bit. You do not know if he actually meant it or not, and the mystery of it all was eating you alive. When you would let your eyes linger on him for longer than usual, you wanted to crawl out of your skin when he would intentionally look away from you. He was avoiding it, and you knew it.

But Eddie was not avoiding it. God, he wanted to. You were consuming every thought in his head. When he was in class he was thinking about you, because you were teaching him even more than the teacher was. When he was driving home, a song would play and he would somehow relate it to the way your eyes twinkled at him or how your smooth voice would send tingles down his spine. When he was home, trying to have some down time, he would catch himself staring out his bedroom window, wondering what you were doing in your room across the street. 

He was officially losing it. 

On final day, he got in his car, his fingers nervously tapping his steering wheel, hoping to the heavens and angels that he would pass so he could race over to your front door and leap into your arms in excitement. He just wanted to be near you, always.

-

When he gets the bubble sheet back and sees a 89/100, he jumps up out of his chair and hoots like a banshee. He could not believe his eyes as he gripped the paper with an iron fist, waving it around to all 4 of his classmates. “I’m graduating, fuckers!”

He could not get home fast enough. With the paper sitting on his dash, he flew over curbs, unable to maintain his excitement at passing the stupid class. 

When he pulls into Forest Hills and fails to see your car in your driveway, his heart skips. 

Had you left to go back to school early? Without saying goodbye? Were you just out? Maybe you had just gone to the grocery store?

As he parks the van, he snatches the sheet up and takes his time getting in the house. He glances back at your place a couple times, failing to see any signs of life through the slightly drawn open windows. His mind was spinning with all the possibilities, all of them equally making him spiral. He places his test down his record player, swipes up his rolling tray and starts to get as high as he possibly could. He would check your driveway practically every fice seconds, willing you to appear, but after an hour, he ashes out a joint and lays back on his bed, defeated.

-

You pulled into your driveway, noticing Eddie’s van haphazardly parked in his driveway. You were tempted to pull in front of his house and knock on his front door to ask how the test went, but you were up all night getting drunk and wallowing. A fight with your mother really took everything out of you and you had next-to-no energy. 

You waste no time getting inside and throwing on your comfiest pajamas. You cuddle up in your bed, soaking up the quietness of your trailer as you have it completely to yourself tonight. Sleep eventually finds you after a bit, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. You take your time getting up, wandering through the house to the front door. On your way there, you stop and grab the half drunk wine glass on the counter. You had left your current self a little gift last night, it seems.

You get to the front door, slamming the wine before you turn the handle. As you open it, you see his curls first. You wipe the dribble of red liquid away from the side of your mouth, puckering your lips. 

“Hey,” You say simply, trying to hide the wine glass behind your back. He knew you drank, but you did not want to look completely disheveled in his presence. You already had bed head. “Hey, uh… I passed,” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping onto his test sheet. He holds it up, a small smile expanding across his face, “I got a B on my final, so… I’m on track to graduate this year.”

He looks nervous, but your heart jumps in excitement for him. This is the best news you have heard all day. You put the wine glass down on the wooden entry table and fly out the door. You wrap your arms around his neck, jumping up and down as you congratulate him. “That’s awesome, Eddie!”

His hand gently graces your waist, shifting your oversized t-shirt up a bit, revealing that there are shorts underneath. You hear a small chuckle escape his throat, almost reflecting some sort of relief. 

You really knew how to make him feel special, practically throwing yourself at him. “All thanks to you,” He whispers as you pull away from his grasp. You still have your hand on his neck, pressing your fingers into the collar of his jean vest. “Oh please…” You shift back, dropping your arm to your side. You giggle, watching him crumble the test paper and stuff it into his pocket. You move back a step, “I’m happy though. Truly. You earned it.”

There’s a pause between you two, both just staring at one another. You want him to say something back, unsure if your celebration was a bit too much. His face drops as if he’s remembering something. He digs in his jean’s pocket, hissing as he searches for something. He pulls out a small joint, the rings on his fingers sparkling in the sun’s rays. The sun is finally going down, shadowing a golden hue over Forest Lawn. “I uh.. Have a celebratory joint.. Do you want to smoke?”

Your smile gives away your answer. You push your elbow into the door, opening it wider for Eddie. Having the whole place to yourself would serve you some good tonight, but Eddie was not much of a bother. Plus, free weed.

“Yeah, I actually have the house to myself, if you want to hang here?”

His eyes light up, surprised that you are allowing him in your space, “Are you sure?”

You nod, gesturing him to join you inside, “Yeah, it’s cool. Mom’s working overnight, sister’s at Max’s.”

“Sure, yeah.”

-

Initially you decide to just hangout in the living room, but then you realize your mother would somehow smell the remnants of marijuana, so you offer Eddie the space of your room. He nods timidly, walking behind you through the kitchen. On your way through, you grab the already half drank wine bottle and walk to the end of the hallway. You push open your door, showing off your messy and cluttered room to Eddie.

“My room’s a mess, just a warning.”

You crack open the nearest window, before settling on your bed. Eddie stands there, taking in your room and art pieces. Stacked canvases take up most of the floor space, as well as a peeling easel. You pat your unmade bed, trying to get him to sit. He toes off his sneakers and plops down on your full-sized bed. 

He places the joint between his lips, something you hyperfixate on for a moment. Watching his mouth wrap around something so small makes you pause. His perfectly symmetrical pink lips were something that caught your attention often. 

You uncork your wine as he flicks his lighter and pulls some smoke. 

“You are gonna smoke, too, right,” He asks, handing over the rolled weed. You take a swig of the bottle, letting the cheap alcohol slide down your throat. 

You gesture him the bottle, offering him some of your own vice. He’s a guest, after all. “Yeah, I am. Want some?”

He shakes his head, scrunching his nose at the idea of drinking. “Not a wine guy. Thanks, though.”

You two sit there in a comfortable silence, passing the joint back and forth. When you feel enough of a buzz throughout your body, you stand up and decide to show off your newest pieces. 

You had never been one to show off your work. You did not mind if people looked or admired, but you’d rather not be in the room when it was happening. You were more afraid of failure, which to you, was someone not liking your work. Criticism. Such a scary thought. 

You grab a painting you created of the woods at the entrance of Forest Hills, a densely packed row of trees with the sun only slightly beaming through some breaks in the leaves. It took you a week to complete it, having spent most of your free time in the evenings with Eddie. 

You turn the canvas over with one hand as you grip your wine bottle at the same time. Eddie shifts on your bed, laying on his side and propping his body weight up on his elbow. 

The moment his eyes find the canvas, his jaw drops.

“Holy shit, sweetheart. That is incredible,” He sits up on his butt, his dark curls shifting around his shoulders as he does. “You could fill an entire museum with the amount of canvases in here.”

You beam at his words, a sense of unnerving weight that you carry around, suddenly lifting off your shoulders. You felt pride swirl in your stomach, watching him stand and approach one older stack of paintings. 

You place the piece of art down, feeling the tackiness of the clear coat on your fingertips. 

“That’s the dream, one day.”

He shifts some watercolors you did around, staring at them with the joint between his lips. He looks so focused and enamored with your work. It’s endearing seeing him able to admire art after dealing with him for weeks just poking fun at it. “Oh, you’ll get there,” he states with confidence, the bud wiggling between his teeth with his words. He takes it out of his mouth, finally looking back over to you. The rush of heat to your cheeks could be attributed to the alcohol, but he is sure it is because of his praise. “You’re incredible.”

And you can tell he means it. What you don’t know is he means it in every sense. Your artistic ability is just the tip of the iceberg. 

He swallows, letting the tension rise a bit as you muster up the courage to step closer to him. The joint is burnt out, now just a roach between his fingers. You place the almost empty wine bottle on your desk, practically invading Eddie’s space as you step one foot closer.

The weed has loosened him up a bit. His body feels weightless and his mouth is one of the muscles that has relaxed with the rest of his limbs.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, looking down at you with a lopsided grin. The moment is reminiscent of the first time he told you that, but the energy in the room is more charged than last time. 

The whites of his eyes are red, his lids drooping a bit more. You can feel the heat flush your cheeks as his gaze falls down over your face and to your lips. 

“Thanks, Eds,” your voice not crawling over a whisper. This time when you acknowledge his compliment, he does not backpedal. His eyes don’t stray away, nervously finding a way to bring up a new conversation. No, this time, he’s confident and sure fire about telling you how he felt. 

He had been holding onto it for so long, and soon, you would be back at school. He knew your mind would stray to other places, other things, other guys. And he knew he would not be able to live with himself if he did not express his feelings for you. 

“Truly, I mean it,” He mutters, shifting on his other leg. You can tell by the way he’s fiddling with his rings, he is nervous. The only thing you can think of is his lips, especially when he licks them, “You are… probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The statement catches you off guard at first. Maybe it’s the alcohol distorting your confidence, or maybe it’s the nerves of him getting an inch closer. You clear your throat, finally darting your eyes away from his mouth. “You are high.”

A smile spreads across his face which warms your skin, prickling tiny bumps scattering down your arms. “And right,” He emphasizes, placing the roach down by your wine bottle. Instead of putting his arm down, his hand inches towards the curve of your cheek. There’s a glint in his eye, something hinting at you to lean towards him. And you do. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker away, your vision falling onto your bedroom door. You had hung up a mirror there when you were 12 and became hyper aware of your appearance. Your mom was very good at making you feel inferior, so you would spend hours sitting on your bed and staring into your mirror with contempt. You had learned how to love yourself a bit more since you were not living at home, but coming back has only reminded you of all the things you hate about yourself. But the characteristics you did like about yourself seemed to shine a bit more as you stood next to Eddie.

“I think I have pretty traits,” You muster up, looking away from your own reflection. Eddie does not accept that. The moment your head snaps back in his direction, his fingers drifting down to your jawline, “No, baby, you are the whole package. Not just a couple things. You’re perfect.”

Perfect. You had never been appreciated by any guy like this. You did not know Eddie had it in him.

“Eddie, you’re just saying that-” He somehow forces you to look in his eyes. He levels with you, his eyes looking serious and bloodshot, “I’m truly not just saying it to say it. I… I have thought like this since like 8th grade, sweetheart.”

It feels like all the air has been pushed out of your chest. You choke out two words, “You what?”

And then Eddie cannot help himself. It’s like he had been gearing up his entire life for this moment. He just needed the push. And the way you are looking at him right now is enough for him. 

“The moment I realized I was completely beside myself into you was when you pushed that girl on the school bus for saying I was a freak for having longer hair. You literally pushed her into the aisle and stepped over her to get off the bus with me. I knew then I was a goner. You were all I could see.”

The day is so vivid in your mind. You even remember the t-shirt you were wearing that day. It was a memory that stuck with you, too. You did not realize you had made such an impact on him. It’s endearing to know he thought about you in that way. Endearing and… reassuring?

You try to break the tension, clearing your throat, “Well, she was being a bitch.” But he does not laugh, he just stares down at you. The rise and fall of his chest insinuates that he’s on the verge of panicking if you do not respond positively. “Yeah, she was.”

The silence eats away at you. The last part of his statement bounces around in your brain. 

“A goner?”

Your nose wiggles and Eddie cannot deny how much he just wants to lift you off your feet and ravish you in that moment. You did not know the effect you had on him just by changing your facial impression to something so disgustingly cute. But it was the way you shifted under his gaze, your hand trailing up to his side, toying with the hem of his raggedy band t-shirt.

He returns the touch, his other hand propping up on your waist. The warmth moves around to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. 

“Yes, princess. A goner.”

His eyes droop and his mouth stays ajar as you too creep closer and closer together. The energy is surging off the ways, striking you in the back and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hand trails down to your neck, the coldness of his rings shocking your system further the moment they touch your collarbones.

You lick your lips, slowly. It’s enough to make Eddie groan.

“You still feel that way?”

He shakes his head, almost to say ‘duh’. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely. You sticking by me all summer and puttin’ up with me only confirmed that I am practically in love with you.”

Your heart could hammer out of your chest at any moment. You feel the chills only further drive your nerves. You shake your head, your hand now balling up his shirt. It’s almost like a threat. “I don’t believe you-” He cuts you off before you can continue. “Let me prove it to you.”

You watch his hands carefully drift down your chest, his fingers resting right on your breast bone. Your breath hitches and you slowly release the fabric between your fingers. You cannot help but trail your eyes back up to his lips, watching him teasingly lick them before leaning in further to you. 

His pupils are huge and you are almost positive it’s because of the weed. 

But it is not just that. Your scent alone is enough to make his cock swell in his tight black jeans. You have yet to notice, but once you do, Eddie knows his cheeks will go bright red. 

The smell of weed is slowly being pulled out of your room by the crisp evening air pouring in from your window. It brings in a chill that has you shifting closer to feel his hot breath on your face. He is suddenly your heat source. 

His head cowers down, his wet lips pressing hesitantly against your jaw. Your voice quivers as he drags his lips all the way to your chin. Your lips are so close, he could just press them together. But somehow that seems more intimate. 

“Is this okay?” He ponders, millimeters from your mouth. You swallow back a hasty hum. 

“Mhm.”

You were never shy of making the first move in situations like this, but your body has completely locked up. You are at his mercy and you are almost positive you would let him do anything to you right now. 

His hands move quickly, sliding down your curves and committing them to memory. 

You just close your eyes and wait. You feel it coming and seeing him get closer is going to send your heart beating out of your chest. When his lips finally grace yours, you two move slowly. Dragging out each movement, tongues slowly slipping past teeth. 

Your brain draws a blank for a beat, not fully digesting the fact that you are kissing him. After weeks of getting high with him, teaching him about a subject you're passionate about, and that slight tension in the air. Especially after he first called you beautiful. That night you went home and tossed and turned in your bed. 

Now he’s gently backing you up to the edge of the mattress, causing you to drop onto your bed with a bounce. He does not waste any time, connecting lips again and giggling as you lay on your back. 

Eddie cannot believe you are below him, so willing to do something like this with him. The moment he starts to get in his head about it, he slowly pulls away from you, almost not to alarm you in any way. 

But the way you look at him. He feels this pull in his chest, like a gravitational drift back to you. He hovers above you, eyes searching your face. 

“God, you couldn’t get any more perfect.”

The heat returns to your entire body. “Stop.”

“Never, sweetheart.”

It seems like he’s going back in for another kiss, but instead he’s pressing his lips against your cheeks. You cannot help the smile that takes over your face. Your hands find a good spot, raking your nails gently through his scalp. The groans that escape him send pulsating need to your core. 

The moment you wrap your leg around his, it’s like a signal for him to further his exploration. His mouth drags across your skin, leaving his saliva in its wake. When he stops at the base of your throat, your hips jolt forward. You feel his jeans straining to keep his cock in one spot.

“More,” You mewl, your shorts riding up with your t-shirt, revealing your thighs and hips to him. He cannot help the strangled chuckling that comes out when you start to beg for him. As if he could not get any harder. 

“More, huh?” His digits spread out, dragging up your oversized shirt and kneading your flesh. The motion has you grinding against his leg even more. He’s dragging it out and it’s so painful. You wish he would just rip the bandaid off and completely unravel you. 

He spares you the pleading and pushes up the fabric to reveal your bare chest. You had not planned to have guests and to be quite frank, you completely forgot you had no bra on. You thought he would have to fumble around to get the full display. He puts his weight on his one knee, admiring you for a moment. You get a bit nervous when he pulls away, only to quickly realize he’s brushing his hair up into a bun.

It gives you a better look at the beautiful smile on his face and his lust blown brown eyes. 

“Can’t let the hair get in the way of all the things I’m about to do to you,” He admits, pecking you over and over again until you are laughing. “I can’t believe we are doing this.”

“I can,” You quip up, watching him unhinge his jaw right above your right nipple, “I see the way you look at me.”

Eddie shakes his head, his stubble brushing your flesh. His giggles subsiding the moment his lips wrap around your areola. You knew you were sensitive but you never felt so overstimulated in your life. The way his hands feel scooping your flesh. The way he is practically trying to fit your entire tit in his mouth. His guttural groans bouncing off your walls and canvases. 

He consumes every one of your senses. 

“Been dying to see you like this. You have the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen,” His voice is so gravelly and dripping with desire. Eddie needs to break the tension in his jeans, so while you are slipping your shirt off entirely, he pops the button on his pants. The zipper practically unfastens itself when he presses into you again, ravishing every inch of your chest. One hand on your waist, the other kneading your boob, all the while your hips are gyrating against his thigh. 

“Need more of you, Eds,” You plead, hoping to whatever god existed that he would litter your floor with all of his clothes. You watch him free his hand from fondling you to pull his t-shirt off from the collar, only briefly coming up for air from feasting on your chest. “Take off my shorts.”

The moment you say that, his eyes bore into yours. “You sure?”

“Eddie,” You press, pushing stray hairs away from his face, “I need you so bad, I may explode.”

“Jesus, say that again.”

You cannot help but scoff, your reaction making your boobs jiggle in front of his face. You lean up to his level, pressing a long drawn out kiss to his neck before bringing your lips to his earlobe, “I need you. So bad.”

The animalistic groan that leaves his throat even takes him by surprise. He stands up, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and practically ripping them in half. You squeak, adjusting how your panties sit on your hips. 

“Listen here, pretty girl, I am going to eat your pussy until you cum at least two times. And I’m gonna take my time. Then, if I don’t cum from doing that alone, I’m filling you up and fucking you exactly how I’ve wanted to for the last… I don’t know how many years.”

His game plan makes your stomach do gymnastics. His confidence in his words is simply derived from his primal need to please you. 

Sure, he wants to get his rocks off, but he could live the rest of his days with blue balls, if it meant seeing you cum all over his mouth over and over again.

The creak of the bed makes Eddie giggle. You have had this bed since you were 11, it has seen better days. 

He positions himself on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulder. Your panties were perfectly disguising the wetness that’s been pooling since Eddie started touching you. It was the only article of clothing left on your body. You want to feel insecure, but all of Eddie’s reassuring words wash over you. He sucks in a deep inhale, taking in your essence. 

“Can I take these off?” He tuts, pressing his fingers perfectly between your fabric-covered folds. The pressure is almost enough to send you over the edge. The craving you have for him is borderline embarrassing.

“Please,” You whimper, shifting your hips a bit trying to feel any friction you can. He pulls his fingers away, lacing them around the hem of your blue panties. Instead of locking his eyes on your glistening core, his gaze follows the panties being pulled from your legs. Once they are discarded, he presses wet kisses against the inner part of your legs.

“You look like a dream, all spread out for me,” He admits, his face now hovering over your core, “You know I dreamt this before?” 

He had. Countless times. Last summer when he watched you pack up your car for college, you were wearing these dangerously short daisy dukes and he stroked his cock about it for two months straight. Late at night, when he needed a release, he thought of you. He did not get much actual action in his day-to-day life, so his mind was consumed by his soul shattering crush on you.

“Eddie, I need you to do something.”

He ignores your pleas, dragging his lips across the skin right above your slit. He slowly drifts down, running his tongue through your folds, tasting every bit of you. 

“Just me having my face buried between your thighs,” He slaps them gently before digging his nails into the meat of your thighs. “God, these thighs… just so perfect.”

You jut your hips down, practically forcing his mouth on you. As much as you loved his dirty talk, you needed action. “Eddie.”

He chuckles, pulling his arm from underneath you. He takes his own fingers in his mouth, lacing his own spit between his digits, “You are so pretty when you say my name, baby. You want me to touch this beautiful pussy, hm? She’s just leaking for me, huh?”

You grit your teeth, watching him spread your pussy lips apart and drag his fingers all along your weeping hole. “I swear to God-” “I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue, don’t worry baby,” He pushes your thighs open wider, “Just painting my own little picture first.”

Truth be told, he was trying to drag this out so he could commit everything to memory. You would be leaving for school again soon, so who knows if this will ever happen again?

In your head, with the way he’s treating your body like a canvas in the finest art museum in New York City, he would be packed in your suitcase and dragged back to school with you. You needed this, always. 

You are pulled out of your thoughts when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue vibrating against your swollen clit. His fingers make work at fucking your hole, all the while his loose-lips occupy themselves making you feel good. Sure, you got head by guys before, but Eddie creates a whole different category in your brain. Maybe it is because you liked him so much and your body moved in sync with his. You were consumed by his very being.

His hips grind against his underwear and your bed sheets with every movement of his mouth. As he’s dragging your first orgasm out of you, he completely halts his lower body before he’s cumming in his jeans watching your body jolt forward and thighs clench around his ears. The sounds that pour out of you is music to his ears. Just enough to send him so close to the edge. 

The mixture of your cum and his saliva on his lips is something you wish to harness in a painting one day. His loose curls falling around his profile as his tongue sweeps across his lips to gather everything onto his taste buds. 

“God, this pussy is heaven. Fuckin’ divine.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit, giving it a quick swat before he peppers some kitten licks across your already sensitive clit. 

“You are so good at that, my God,” You breathe out, your hands raking down the sides of your body, meeting his right hand on your thigh.

“Yeah?” he giggles, shifting up onto his elbows to get a better view of your body from above, “I really want to make you cum again.”

You don’t hide how desperate you are, “Can you just fuck me already?”

He laughs even harder, crawling up onto your lower stomach. He kisses right below your belly button, “Can I be honest?”

“No, I want you to lie to me,” You joke, your nails drifting around his forearm. His eyebrows raise, questioning your response silently. You roll your eyes, swatting him, “Yes, of course.”

“If I fuck you right now, I will cum almost immediately,” He admits, his voice gravelly. 

“Well, we can go another round if you do.”

It’s like all the air leaves his lungs when you say that. He did not expect you to want to do this again. As much as he wanted to, he did not truly know where your mind was. You just drove the nail right into the coffin. 

He pulls himself further up your body, his hand shifting to cup your mound as his mouth latched on your nipple. Your body instantly reacts to him, practically holding onto him for dear life, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew.

“Fine, I’ll fuck you now,” He mocks, dragging his lower lip up to your neck, “Since you’re just begging.”

You scoff, your hands finally reaching the waist of his jeans and yanking them down with his boxers. You would ignore the fact that he’s wearing Batman boxers. It was fitting, but also hilarious. You are more focused on the fact that he was huge. 

Definitely the biggest you’ve ever held in your hand. 

He looks between your bodies, smiling at the way your hand cradles his length. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming right now?”

This only happened in his dreams. It was about to consume your dreams, too, when you were done.

“All real,” You say, languidly pumping him, “I’m not sure how you’re gonna make it fit.”

You are feeding his ego. You knew that. 

You are one of the prettiest girls to come out of Hawkins and you are saying he’s too big. He’s never going to shut up to Gareth and the guys about it. With your permission of course.

“Don’t you worry about that, princess. I’ll make sure it fits.”

He shifts onto his knees, propping your knees up on his waist. You gawk at it for a moment longer. His tip is glistening with precum, which only adds to the silkiness of it's appearance. You also have the perfect angle to feel up his chest, touching each of his tattoos with your pointer finger, as if to map each of them out. You offer a cheeky grin as he appreciates the swell of your breasts. 

“Do you need me to get a condom?” He whispers, his cock probing at your inner thigh. 

“I’m on the pill. And I’m… I haven’t slept with any guys without one.”

His jaw drops a bit, “And you are okay with me going in raw?”

You are not sure why you are so sure about Eddie, but you just are. All of this felt just right. 

“Yeah. Only if you want to.”

Air escapes his nose dramatically as he uses his thumb to press down his shaft closer to your weeping hole. “Have I mentioned that you are perfect?”

“A million times now.”

“Gonna make it a hundred million by the end of this,” He sinks closer to you, his dripping tip diving between your lips, “And a trillion more times after.”

He drags himself over you, propping himself up right beside your head. The stretch starts to get more intense the more he slides into you. It is not a bad feeling, just something you would have to adjust to. 

And he would have to adjust, too. The way your spongy walls squeeze him is so overwhelming, before he’s half way in, he twitches. “You’re squeezing me so good.”

“I’ll try to relax,” You manage, the quick snap forward he does taking you off guard, “Fuck, Eddie!”

“I’m sorry! I-” He tries to explain, but you shut him up by propping yourself up to meet his lips. He stills inside you, filling you to the brim but not moving. You were eager to shut him up before he made things awkward, because they simply did not need to be. He felt incredible. And with his lips slotted between yours, you feel as if you may have died and gone to heaven. You take his bottom lip between your teeth playfully as you pull away, eyes locked onto his, “Do it again.”

He experimentally pulls back, the lack of resistance as he fucks into you only possible because of how soaked you are. He repositions himself so he’s back on his knees, eyes locked on the way your pussy just sucks him in. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last,” He reminds you, pushing himself in deeper. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling for a bit. You cannot help but smirk at him, looking down as his hips snap to yours sluggishly. 

“Yeah? Pussy’s too good for you?” You pose, trying your very best to drive him even more insane. There was something about his eyes when he got all worked up. They become this deeper shade of brown that causes chills to spread over your arms. When he finally looks back at you, a cheshire grin spreading across his face, you knew you were in for it. 

He picks up his pace a bit, holding your upper thighs down. If he looks down at what’s happening below the waist, he will surely lose it. So instead, his almost carbon-black eyes bore into yours. With every moan and jolt against the bed, you are inching towards your own climax. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t stop, please.”

His smile droops a bit, his teeth clenching as the pace he’s at is causing the headboard to slam against your wall, “Yeah? I want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart. You know how much I love hearing you talk.”

The words send you babbling. Your pussy is practically gushing around him, but your body has yet to explode. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Eddie. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Knew you’d treat me good. So fuckin’ good.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, baby. Gonna fuck you every day just to make it up to you. I promise,” He accidentally steals a glance at your messy cunt and his dick twitches, “Ah shit, fuck.”

He knows he’s a goner. The way you squeeze him when he says that makes him take action to put you out of your pleasurable misery. He presses his thumb against your practically pulsating clit. The mixture of his pistoning hips and his frantic fingers makes your orgasm slam into you like a freight train. You grab onto whatever is close and curl your fingers around it. It just happens to be his t-shirt and your bed comforter. 

With your mouth wide open, you keen endless curse words, trying your best not to alarm the nearby neighbors.

As your come down starts to soothe your buzzing nerves, Eddie’s hips still completely inside you. 

You had never seen him so ethereal. His curls wild, his brow furrowed in concentration, his pale stomach muscles tense, jaw slack. He was surely your next muse. 

“My god, princess,” He sighs, his body practically going limp over yours. 

His hair falls around your mouth and nose as his head rests perfectly between your boobs. The curls tickle your nostrils, causing you to blow out aggressively. 

“I love you, but please get your little hairs out of my nose,” You joke, pushing his hair down. The bun he put at the base of his head is practically completely undone, leaving his dark locks pooling all around you. 

While you are too focused on his hair, Eddie’s ears are ringing at the first half of the sentence. His head slowly shifts to look up at you, his eyes now that beautiful warm hue. “You love me?”

His voice is shaking, nervous over the possibility you did not mean to say that. But it was one of those things. Instinctual. You knew you did love Eddie, so those words leaving your mouth seemed natural. You felt no need to retract them. 

You nod, pushing some bangs away from his view, “Is that surprising? I don’t spend my precious summers with people I hate. I especially do not let them into my bedroom and let them look at all my paintings.”

The revelation is enough to make Eddie crawl up to your lips, pressing a chaste, eager kiss. His hand cradles your cheek as he pulls away, “I’m just that special.”

“You could say that.”

He laughs softly, “For the record, and I know we are keeping one, I love you, too.”

-

The goodbye always sucks. 

You did not love being home, but this trailer was truly all you knew. You secretly did not despise Hawkins. It was home. 

And now it was even more like home because it’s where Eddie was. So this goodbye is even worse than it was before. 

He pulls your last suitcase into your Ford, closing the hitch for you as you hug your sister goodbye at the door. You walk down your creaking steps, eyes glued to the way Eddie stands at the back of your car. You practically fall into his arms, squeezing him so tight that you swear he may just mold to your body. 

His hands do not want to leave your waist as his nose tucks into your neck. 

“I’ll come visit you in a few weeks, I promise,” He hums, kissing the spot right below your ear. A slight chill runs up your spine. You will never get sick of his kisses. You have gotten very familiar with them lately.

“And I’ll come to visit in October for that Battle of the Bands,” You say as you pull away to get a good look at his face. His sweet, blushing face. “I’ll join your hoard of groupies.”

He scoffs, shifting back as if he’s appalled, “Hoard? That’s a bit dramatic. We have like… maybe 2.”

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. “Yeah, me and that girl Jeff drags around.”

“Jennifer is his cousin.”

You shake your head, completely dumbfounded, “Even worse.”

He laughs dryly in his throat, “I think she has a crush on Gareth or something.”

From the few times you have hung out with his group of friends in the last two weeks of your summer vacation, you did not get that impression from the girl. She seems very into her cousin. 

“Right on,” You laugh, pulling him towards the driver’s side so you can get in, “Give me a grand kiss in front of the neighbors and let me go on my merry way.”

His hands lace around your back, groping your ass, “I’ll give ‘em an even better show if you want.”

You bring him down to your height, pressing a longing kiss to his lips. He deepens it, his groping now turning into him kneading your ass cheeks. You pull away the moment he does that, knowing your mom is probably watching from the kitchen window. 

“You are a devious one, Munson,” You snicker, weaving your way out of his arms and into your driver’s seat. You start the car, letting it warm up as Eddie leans his hands on the very top of the car doorframe. His entire body blocks out the blistering sunlight, his shadow casting over your eyes. 

“Yeah, maybe, but you love me.”

Your eyes flicker back up to him. God, you really did love him. 

He slants more towards you, placing one more kiss on your mouth. Your stomach starts to roll when it hits you that you will not get to see him for the next few weeks. It makes your chest tighten the more you thought about it. 

“I sure do.”

His nose crinkles, his eyes getting weepy, “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now, get on the road and call me sometime tonight? Let me know you made it safely?”

You lift your hand in a salute, “Of course, my art apprentice.”

np tags (love u guys and i gotta tag some of my fav eddie/steve writers): @mediocredreams @hockeyhughes @votel4dybird @minamoomoo @disabilitymissunderstood @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours

[shaiyasstuff]

won’t go home without you | zayne

synopsis : “You and Zayne were never perfect, but you were always right.” content : zayne x reader, established relationship, heartbreak, some fluff, pretty basic stuff, your classic couple quarrel. quote : “It’s not over tonight, just give me one more chance to make it right.” - Maroon 5

Inspired (loosely) by :

You and Zayne were never perfect, but you were always right.

The fights, the teasing, the way you always found your way back to each other.

It was a rhythm, a dance that only the two of you knew.

Zayne was never good with words, but he loved you in all the quiet ways that mattered.

The way he would pull you close in bed at night even after an argument, whispering an apology as he embraced you.

In the way he would stay awake, just to hear you fall asleep.

The way he would slide over a glass of dessert when he notices you eyeing it for too long, even if it’s his favourite.

The way his hands subtly covers the edge of the table when you bend down to pick up something that fell, knowing how clumsy you were.

The way he would memorise your coffee orders.

You would walk home after work and find your coffee sitting on top of the counter, from your favourite cafe.

“I love you,” you would say as you hugged him.

He would give you a small kiss on your forehead. No words needed, just warmth.

Or, even the way he would leave gifts around the house for you to find. Things that you mentioned casually when you both were driving home.

The way he was always there. No matter how busy he was at the hospital, even when he just finished an 8 hour shift, he was always there.

And you loved him for that.

All the little things were enough for you.

Until they weren’t.

Because throughout your entire 2 year relationship, he never said it.

The three words, ‘I love you,’ had never left his lips.

Not even once.

At first you didn’t complain, even when it bothered you.

Because you understood him, you loved him, and you knew he wasn’t good with words. So you never pushed the matter.

But, slowly, it started gnawing at you.

Like an annoying, nagging fly thats chipping away at your insecurities.

You were always patient with him. That’s why arguments were actually quite rare.

You would wait for him to finish work if you finished early, and he would drive you both home.

You would fill the silence at home with your corny jokes and though he acts frustrated, you could catch the corner of his lips curling ever so slightly.

You never forced him to talk when he’s not ready, you just stay close, letting him know you were there when he was.

On your day offs, you would even cook his favourite meals and leave it on his desk, pretending it was for you just so he would eat without arguing.

His quiet, calm demeanour gave you a sense of stability, he made you feel secure.

That’s what you loved about him.

But sometimes, you just needed to hear him say it. Just once.

Because sometimes love, can’t live on unspoken things.

—•

It was late.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing by outside.

Zayne sat on the couch, his head tilted back, fingers rubbing against his temple.

It had been a long day.

Too many meetings, too little sleep, and a gnawing exhaustion that even your presence couldn’t fix apparently.

You stood by the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes, glancing at him every few moments.

He looked tired, but more than that, he looked distant.

That distance had been growing for weeks now.

You weren’t sure when it started, when the warmth between you had started to cool, when the silence between conversations had started stretching too long.

You tried not to let it bother you.

Tried to tell yourself it was just a phase, just stress, just a bad month.

But the weight of it had been pressing on your chest all night, a silent ache that refused to go away.

You wiped your hands dry on a towel, hesitating for just a moment before speaking.

“Zayne?”

He didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

You chewed on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Do you still want this?”

His fingers stilled against his temple.

He exhaled, slow, before finally looking at you. His eyes were unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard. “Us. This. Do you still—”

Zayne sighed, “Darling, can we not do this tonight?”

You flinched.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? It was never the right time.

You weren’t picking a fight.

You weren’t trying to be difficult.

You just needed to know.

“I just—” You hesitated, but the words were already pushing their way out.

“You haven’t really been here lately. You don’t talk to me like you used to. And I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking, maybe I just need you to—”

Zayne let out a frustrated exhale, standing abruptly.

“Maybe you should just stop expecting things from me.”

The words hit like a slap.

The room tilted.

A sharp breath left you as your hands curled into fists at your sides.

He didn’t even realize what he had just done.

Didn’t realize what he had just broken.

You felt something shift inside you, something quiet but irreversible.

Zayne ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“Y/N you know I don’t mea—”

You didn’t wait for him to finish.

You turned, walking to the bedroom.

“Wait, Y/N,” His voice followed you, but you didn’t stop.

You didn’t argue.

You didn’t cry.

You just packed.

—•

The suitcase wasn’t even fully zipped when he appeared in the doorway.

His brows were furrowed, his expression somewhere between frustration and panic.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer.

His voice hardened.

“Are you really leaving just because of one thing I said?”

Your fingers tightened around the zipper, your chest aching.

“It wasn’t just one thing, Zayne,” you said quietly, without looking at him.

A silence stretched between you.

He was breathing hard, hands at his sides, fists clenched like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.

Finally, your eyes met his.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even try to stop you.

Maybe if he had reached for you, maybe if he had just, said something real. Then maybe things would have ended differently.

But all he did was stare at you, his expression unreadable.

And so, you walked past him, suitcase in hand.

Zayne didn’t move.

Didn’t follow.

Didn’t say a word.

The door clicked shut behind you, and that was it.

—•

The silence was the worst part.

At first, Zayne told himself it was just temporary.

That you needed space.

That you’d cool off, come back, and you’d talk.

He had plenty of time, didn’t he?

But then, the days stretched into weeks.

The bed started feeling too big.

The couch felt too empty.

The apartment felt too quiet.

The first time he reached for his phone to text you, he stopped himself.

Not because he didn’t want to.

“What would I say?”

He’d set the phone down and try to distract himself.

He went to work, came home, slept, repeat.

It was fine. He was fine.

Until of course, he wasn’t.

It was a small thing.

He was making coffee one morning when he reached for your mug.

It was muscle memory, because he always made yours first.

But then his hand stilled.

Because your mug wasn’t there.

His felt his stomach drop.

He would open all the cabinets, “Maybe she misplaced it.” Only to find it empty, your mug was no where to be found.

Like you had never been there at all.

That was when he checked the closet.

He rushed into your shared bedroom, swinging then closet door open.

And his chest tightened painfully when he saw that your side was empty.

Your clothes. Your shoes.

The little things you left in random places.

All gone.

That was when he realised that this wasn’t a break.

You weren’t coming back.

At first, he tried to pretend he was fine.

Tried to go out. See his co-workers. Work late.

But nothing felt right.

He would find the coffee too bland, his colleagues too loud, or the conversations just bored the hell out of him.

No matter where he went, he still ended up here.

Alone.

At home, in the dark, staring at the ceiling, feeling like he was suffocating under the weight of everything he didn’t say.

He tried telling himself that maybe it was for the best.

That maybe you were better off without him.

But then he thought about how you looked before you left.

The way your hands had trembled just slightly when you zipped up your suitcase.

The way your voice had cracked, just for a second, when you said it wasn’t just one thing.

The way you had looked at him, like you were waiting.

Like you were hoping, just for a second, that he would stop you.

And he hadn’t.

That was the moment the regret settled in his chest like a knife he couldn’t pull out.

Because you wanted him to fight for you.

And he just stood there, watching you walk away.

—•

Zayne saw you everywhere.

Not you, but the things you would do.

It was in the things you touched, the spaces you once filled, the air that still carried the faintest trace of your perfume.

He saw you in his blankets, snuggled up on the couch reading a book.

He saw you in his clothes, that one oversized sweater you would always steal from his closet.

Saw you in the kitchen where he had moved the snacks to the lower cabinet because he knew you couldn’t reach high.

It was like you had been erased from the apartment but not from his world.

But that wasn’t the worst.

The worst was that, he had let you walk away.

—•

He made it two months before he caved.

It happened on a random afternoon.

He had been walking home, taking the long way just because he didn’t want to go back to the empty apartment, when he passed a small bookstore.

And there, he saw it, sitting in the window.

The book you had been searching for.

The one you had spent weeks trying to find, but every store had been sold out.

His feet moved before his brain caught up.

The next thing he knew, he was inside, buying the book without thinking.

It wasn’t until he stepped outside, book in hand, heart pounding, that reality hit him.

You weren’t here.

He had no one to give it to.

And that’s when it hit him, like a punch to the chest.

He needed to see you.

Needed to tell you everything he didn’t say that night.

Because if he didn’t?

He would regret it for the rest of his life.

He stood there out side the bookstore, the book still in his hands, his fingers gripping the cover like it was the only thing grounding him.

His heart was pounding.

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, how long he had gone without hearing your voice.

The thought made his throat tighten.

He reached for his phone.

Two months.

That’s how long it had been since he last saw your name on his screen.

Two months of silence he had convinced himself was necessary.

But now, with the weight of everything crashing down on him, he wondered, “Did I wait too long?”

His thumb hovered over your contact.

His chest felt too tight.

But he hit dial.

And then, it rang.

Once.

Twice.

His pulse quickened.

Finally, a click.

A breath caught in his throat.

But it wasn’t your voice.

“The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again later.”

The line went dead.

Zayne stared at his phone.

His stomach dropped.

He tried again.

Ring. Ring.

Nothing.

He exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t normal.

You always picked up.

Even if you were mad.

Even if you didn’t want to talk.

And if you didn’t, you always called back.

But now?

Nothing.

A pit formed in his chest.

His hands shook slightly as he checked your social media.

No updates.

No posts.

Like you had disappeared.

His mind raced.

Had you blocked him?

Had you moved on?

Had you… left for good?

The thought was suffocating.

His grip tightened on the phone.

He had spent the last two months thinking he had time.

That you would still be there, just… waiting.

But what if you weren’t?

What if this time, you weren’t coming back?

Panic shot through his veins like ice.

And for the first time since you walked away, real fear settled deep into his bones.

He couldn’t lose you.

He wouldn’t.

Not like this.

Not because of his own damn pride.

Zayne stood abruptly, grabbing his car keys.

He didn’t know where you were.

Didn’t know if you even wanted to see him.

But he was going to find you.

Because if there was even the slightest chance that he could fix this then, he wasn’t going to waste another second.

—•

Zayne never drove faster in his life, the rain blurring the road as he gripped the steering wheel, heart pounding.

He had waited too long, let too much time slip through his fingers, convincing himself that you’d still be there, waiting.

But when his calls went unanswered, when the silence stretched too far, fear settled deep in his bones.

He didn’t know what he would say when he saw you, only that he had to.

Because if he didn’t, if he let this be the ending, he would regret it forever.

Standing on your porch, staring at the door he never thought he’d have to knock on, his hands trembled.

But then, you were there, your eyes guarded, arms crossed, exhaustion weighing heavy on your face.

“Zayne,” you whispered, his name feeling like both a wound and a prayer.

His throat tightened.

“I was wrong,” he admitted, voice rough, raw.

“I should have stopped you. I love you. And I won’t go home without you.”

Silence hung between you, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Then, finally, your fingers trembled as they reached for his, and as he exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours, he whispered,

“Don’t go.”

This time, he wouldn’t let you.

—•

You could have told him he was too late.

That love wasn’t enough. That some things, some wounds, don’t just heal because someone finally decides to show up.

But as you stood there, staring at the man who once let you walk away without a fight, you realized something.

You had been waiting for this.

Not for an apology. Not for grand words or promises.

For him.

For the way his voice cracked when he whispered, “I was wrong.”

For the way his fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach for you but too afraid.

For the way he looked at you like he had finally woken up, like he had finally understood what he had lost.

Your breath felt shallow, chest rising and falling too fast as you stared at him.

Neither of you moved.

And then, he did.

Just the smallest step closer, just enough that you could feel his warmth again, just enough that the cold space between you started to disappear.

His hand hovered near yours, like he was waiting, waiting for permission, waiting for you to let him in.

Your fingers trembled as they reached for his, hesitating, just for a second, just long enough for him to feel the weight of it.

Then, finally, you closed the distance.

Zayne let out a breath, something deep and unsteady, like he had been holding it in for months.

His forehead pressed against yours, his body leaning into you as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

His hands, once hesitant, found their way to your waist, slow and unsure, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hold you anymore.

You let him.

And when his fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater, when his arms pulled you just a little closer, you felt the way he was shaking.

He had always been quiet in his grief.

But now?

Now, you could feel every unspoken word in the way his hands refused to let go.

His breath was warm against your cheek, voice breaking as he whispered.

“I love you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

You could have said a million things.

Could have reminded him of all the ways he hurt you, could have made him earn this moment.

Instead, you just sighed, tilting your head until your lips brushed against his.

Soft, hesitant, the kind of kiss that felt like both an ending and a beginning.

Zayne froze, his breath catching, before he kissed you back, slow and aching.

Like he was memorizing the feeling.

Like he didn’t believe this was real.

And when he pulled away, his forehead still resting against yours, his hands still holding you like you were the only thing keeping him upright, you whispered.

“Then don’t go home without me.”

His grip tightened. His breath hitched.

Zayne knew that this wasn’t forgiveness.

But it was a start.

masterlist

[delphi-shield]

SAY IT BACK ↪ letting them leave without an ily

finishing up some smaller things from my wip folder before i buckle down and work on the big stuff again. here's this doofy little fluff piece.

characters included: chris redfield, leon kennedy, jill valentine, ada wong

content: fluff. just fluff. established relationship. mildly ooc behavior for the sake of fluff (also known as being in a relationship and acting stupid)

You found it on TikTok - or maybe it was Instagram, or Facebook - doesn't matter. One of the media conglomerates had given you a horrible idea about how to tease your loving, devoted partner.

It's simple - when they said 'I love you' before they left for work, you just wouldn't say it back. What could go wrong?

Chris Redfield ↪

Did not notice. Secure. In his lane. Unbothered. Probably not moisturized. (Get him a nice oil, fragrance free. He'll like it more if you massage it into his muscles for him, spend a little extra time smoothing along the curve of his spine, up and over the tightness of his shoulders.)

If you're at the point with Chris where he's saying “I love you” in place of a goodbye, he doesn't need to hear you say it back. He's confident in your relationship. Hearing it is just a nice bonus.

You're going to get your own feelings hurt here. Sent yourself into a spiral. Like, damn, does he not listen? Does he not care? What the fuck is his deal?

Chris is legitimately confused when you bring it up to him later. Doesn't get the point of the whole thing. “Why wouldn't you just say you love me?” Head cocked to the side, so puppy-like you can practically see the velvety ears flopping over.

Really doesn't do the whole social media thing. Even when you show him videos as an example, he's just shrugging. "I'm pretty sure those are skits, honey. No one really reacts like that."

If only he knew. Hey - at least now you know that Chris is perfectly content in your relationship and won't let anything silly like this bother him. It's just a sign to ramp up the pranks - more practical jokes, less subtle, harmless emotional manipulation.

That's what you thought, at least, but when Chris flips the light off that night and sidles up behind you in bed, strong arms slipping around your middle and tugging you back to him, his voice rumbles in your ear - "You gonna tell me you love me, or is this gonna be a problem?"

And Chris is really good at extracting confessions. How badly do you actually want to get some sleep tonight?

Jill Valentine ↪

Doesn't seem to have noticed that you ignored her. Walked right out the door without missing a step, didn't even glance back. Her car pulls out of the garage, her sunglasses on - she seems entirely unbothered.

Oh, she’s bothered.

Jill Valentine is Not Petty™️. And she does not pout when her partner doesn't say ‘I love you’ back. She's in a pissy mood at work for a completely unrelated reason. She's not returning your texts because she's busy at work, not because she's trying (and failing) to give you a taste of your own medicine.

She definitely doesn't carry that storm cloud all the way home with her, doesn't rain on your parade when you cheerfully announce that dinner's ready and on the table.

You're trying everything you can think of to cheer her up. Asking about work got you a noncommittal shrug. You'd offered to draw a bath for her - or (preferably) for the both of you, but she'd dismissed the idea, talking about how it would take up too much time.

She didn't have the heart to shrug you off when you started massaging her shoulders. Despite your silence in the morning, you were clearly intent on taking care of her. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe you just hadn't heard her.

Her palm presses against your cheek, turns you to face her. She searches your eyes for a moment, her gaze unreadable. "Thanks for dinner. I love you."

Nothing. Fucking nothing. "You're welcome."

Jill knows that look on your face, that shit-eating grin that you're trying to cover up by glancing down, by pretending to be flustered. Her hands grip your hips. She manhandles you into her lap, chair scraping against the floor to make room for the both of you.

"Okay - spill. What's up with you?"

Once you explain, she's not mad about the whole thing, not really. But you can't help but notice that she's been withholding kisses lately, and-- wait.

Fuck. Now she's turned the tables on you.

Leon Kennedy ↪

Keeps finding new and inventive ways to double back inside the house. He's not going to outright ask you what's up - that would make him look desperate, which he’s totally not. He’s definitely not concerned at all that you didn’t complete your morning ritual and send him out the door with an ‘I love you’. He’s a big boy - this isn’t high school, this is his very mature, very adult relationship.

Excuse number one: “Sorry, forgot my keys,” as he makes a show of dropping his keys out of his pocket, onto the living room floor. His eyes are on you when he reaches to grab them. Leon tosses them in his hand, making as much noise as he possibly can. “All right, love you.”

You hold strong. Still no ‘love you’ back. He’s gone for all of 60 seconds when he comes back with excuse number two: “Ah, damn, forgot my badge. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

His badge is attached to his belt. You can literally see it. When you point that out to him, he makes a show of being relieved, goes so far as to press a kiss to your temple, and says, “God, what would I do without you? Love ya. Have a good day.”

But you hold strong. Until excuse number three:

“Babe, have you seen my gun?”

You laugh, which only makes him laugh - and then he hits you with ‘no, seriously’ while he leans against the doorway, hip cocked. He’s got you figured out by now, knows that if he can make you laugh then you’re not doing this because you’re mad at him or anything. He can't even be mad when you explain it to him. He can only warn you:

"I'm gonna get you for this. Now, c'mon - say it."

Ada Wong ↪

I don't know why you would do this to her to be honest. She just said ‘I love you’. You should be marking your calendar and turning this into a holiday.

She doesn't say it often, at least not while you're conscious. Whether she presses her sentiments into your hair while you sleep against her, drooling against her collar bone, is up for debate. You have no hard evidence and she'll deny the allegations.

It simultaneously is and is not a big deal. She didn't say it because she craved the validation of having you repeat it to her. She said it because she meant it. There's so few concrete truths about herself that she can share with you, but that was one of them. Does it sting a little not to have it returned? Maybe.

She turns the moment over and over in her head, letting it haunt her. You had given her time, she thinks, why can't she give you yours? But your silence is a specter that tinges every moment. It creeps at the edges of every thought, it–

“Hey, you forgot your coffee.”

She turns to see you in the door of your apartment, hanging from the frame with one hand, her cup extended to her in the other. She clicks back to you in her stilettos, and your press a kiss to her cheek when she claims her drink. The guilt of it all ate at you before you could let her leave your sight. “Love you. Be safe.”

She'd spiraled before she even got down to the parking lot. Total loser in love.

[bluem1lls]

HIII!! If it's not a bother, can you maybe write headcanons for toxic!Se-Mi with a naïve!reader? No rush or anything

✧₊⁺ i'm addicted to you

✦ synopsis: how can the person that makes you the happiest be also the one that makes you the most miserable? ✦ content: MINORS DNI, toxic!se-mi x naive!reader, cheating, angst, a bit of smut ✦ authors note: hiiiiii!! tysm for ur request!! i hope u like it!!!

part one (you're here). part two.

⠄⠂☆ listen. it was your fault. you smiled too much and too often at her, haven't you heard her reputation?

⠄⠂☆ it all started like a normal friends to lover.. relationship? to you, everything she did was magical and romantic.

not to your best friend tho.

"she's cheating. i don't know how you don't see it?" you stared with your big doe eyes as you shook your head no.

"she says she loves me, you don't cheat on someone that loves you"

"you're dumb if you think she's only fucking with you, clearly she's not even ready to be in a relationship!"

"she said she had a traumatic experience with ex-relationships before! that's why she didn't asked me to be her girlfriend yet"

and she stares at you as she sighs.

⠄⠂☆ se-mi does NOT let you touch her phone. she tells you that she's afraid of her phone breaking because she has too many memories with her grandma there:( ?????? and you believe her ???????? she actually means 'nudes from other girls' btw..

⠄⠂☆ you're so down bad she's literally screaming it to your face. ur blind tho..

lover<3: hey babe

lover<3: this urs?

[lover<3 attached an image]

no.. i dont own any red lingerie???

me: oh. it's not.

me: se-mi?

lover<3: fuck, i was fighting with my sister. it's hers, i hate when she leaves her shit on my room :(

it's not. she doesn't have a sister.

you believe her tho.

me: ohh hshshdj, you scared me:(

lover<3: i only have my girl ;)

she doesn't. she says that to every single one of her girls.

⠄⠂☆ she gets bored eventually and leaves you. and you're sobbing and asking for an explanation but all she gives you it's a quick:

lover<3: its not u its me. promise. ur just 2 much sometimes and i think we should just see other people :)

lover<3: it wasnt that serious tho, we weren't dating

lover<3: but im down if u still want my fingers inside of u hshdj

⠄⠂☆ you block her. although you end up unblocking her at night, texting her you'll let her be more free.

but she's rancorous, so she blocks you for almost 2 weeks. wants to leave her girl yearning a little..

⠄⠂☆ until she checks your Instagram, and your last post is a girl hugging you from behind and a picture of this girl holding a coffee cup.

what the fuck???? who's that bitch???

naaah shes unblocking you and spamming your phone REAL fast until you answer.

se-mi: what the fuck???

se-mi: fucking answer

[missed call from se-mi]

se-mi: im so fr if u dont pick up rn ill go get u, ik that coffee shop

[missed call from se-mi]

⠄⠂☆ the amount of calls she left are ridiculous, when you decided to pick up your phone to text your mom you're like ????

me: oh! hi!

me: its my best friend! we're hanging out a bit, she said i looked a bit down since u blocked me....

se-mi: i dont believe u

se-mi: if shes ur best friend leave her and come over

se-mi: i miss you so much princess

⠄⠂☆ and you fall.

there you are, you left your best friend to go ride her cock.

she fucks you so good it's disgusting how much of a whore it makes you

"fuuuck" she moans as she sees you squirm while riding her black strap. your tits bounce and your nails scratch her back, your head thrown back from pleasure.

"s-soo deep" you whimper, cock drunk.

"yeah? bet no one fucks you like i do baby" she says, slapping your face as your eyes roll back from how deep she is.

it's true tho. no one does.

⠄⠂☆ when you actually get serious and decide to finish things off??? like you for real have an entire speech and everything, you've talked to your best friend, you've decided you two are no longer gonna fuck, you practiced, you have literally done it all??

there she is, on your fucking door with your favorite flowers, a necklace with her initial on it (you talk too much about taylor swift and that one song), she even set up a picnic date???

she's being so romantic

and you just can't bring yourself to do it.

⠄⠂☆ and then everything is back to normal.

me: can we see eachother today??

se-mi: idk

me: oh, thats fine! tomorrow maybe? we could go tooo a picnic date again!

se-mi: uhh ill see, idk

⠄⠂☆ she can't btw. she already has a hookup for tonight and she's gonna be soo tired from it tomorrow.

⠄⠂☆ and finally on thursday, she goes to your house!

and everything is so good again, sex is amazing and she falls asleep right after, worn out.

and a lot of messages start popping.

the dumbass doesn't even hide the notifications, so you open one.

em: need u so so bad daddy

[em attached an image]

em: missing ur fingers. make me beg??

⠄⠂☆ and when she's awaken by your sobs, she doesn't even have to ask what happened. she knows.

"baby, let me fix it. please" she begs as you keep sobbing. "princess please, you're just being a cry baby. we'll be fine."

she rolls her eyes as she kneels, besides you.

"hey, it didn't meant anything to me, i swear"

⠄⠂☆ and then you actually kick her out??? she's speechless.

⠄⠂☆ you don't talk to her for one day, a week?? what the fuck is wrong with you??

⠄⠂☆ and just when you think you're doing better...

[se-mi attached a video]

se-mi: you're missing out ;)

"you're such a good girl" se-mi says, the video shows her spanking a girl as the blonde moans, in all fours.

"my pretty girl" she uses your nickname on her as she thrusts. you bite your lip to try and hold the tears.

she's disgusting.

⠄⠂☆ and another week goes by. she actually begins to.. miss you? like.. not enough to stop fucking around, but she's only fucking girls that look like you!

hey! at least she can only cum if she thinks it's you eating her out instead of them!

⠄⠂☆ and it's been a month, and she still texts you. but you don't reply.

good girl!

until you meet someone new, and she's beautiful, and she's so nice, and she actually treats you like a person? she has time for you and it's not only night hang outs???

so you give her a chance, and you were so right!

until the sex comes.

and everything is soft, gentle and caring.

and you fucking hate it.

⠄⠂☆ so much, that you answer that text.

se-mi: is it true??? ur fucking w her??

se-mi: istg if i find out you have a new girl im gonna fuck ur brains out in front of her baby

se-mi: you know you can't live without me

se-mi: you're my girl

me: come over tn

se-mi: wait-

se-mi: ur fr??

⠄⠂☆ and you're so for real.

she's making your brain all fuzzy as she tightens the grip on your throat while you're riding her.

she pushes you into bed and thrusts into you until you become putty in her hands. she's pouding so hard your eyes roll back.

and she fucks you dumb, because no one can do it like she does.

and the tears fall, but you don't know if it's because she's doing it so good or because you know she won't be here in the morning.

and it's so intoxicating that you're coming undone on her cock.

⠄⠂☆ and now we start all over again.

[goldenhypen]

✴︎ ⎯ interrupting them with a kiss

pairing | enhypen x reader

genre | fluff

wc | 1.2k

warnings | kissing lol + some playful teasing/bickering,, lmk if there’s anything else!

a/n | first work since the hiatus omg hope y’all enjoy i haven’t done one of these in a whileee

HEESEUNG ♡

this boy is literally in the middle of answering a question YOU just asked but you can’t help but notice how ADORABLE he looks right now

wearing his oversized hoodie that engulfs his entire tall form somehow manages to make him look so tiny before you

and so you can’t just sit there and act like you’re okay

you can’t hold it in you anymore

so you kiss him

“oh…” he says, blinking at you, pleasantly surprised as you pull away. “do that again, please,” he smirks with more of a demanding voice this time

LEE HEESEUNG????

you’re left there at a loss for words at this reaction you didn’t expect to elicit from him

and so noticing you’re not doing anything, he decides to take things into his own hands

literally thanos’ “fine. i’ll do it myself” but make it intimate, sexy and lee heeseung

and you catch yourself melting under the hot touch of your boyfriend as his lips immediately find yours

JAY ♡

after kissing him all of a sudden, he lowk flinches and looks at you wide-eyed before acting like you didn’t just make his heart suddenly rush at 150 miles per hour whilst simultaneously doing hundreds of flips in his chest

he looks at you with a questioning type of look before laughing, attempting to mask his now flustered state before letting out a confused, “what the…”

“sorry, you were talking, then i realized how pretty your lips were looking as you were talking, and then you talked some more, and i—couldn’t hold back :)”

he scoffs playfully while letting his eyes shut half closed, still looking at you with an unamused (actually, very amused) stare, “so are you gonna let me finish what i was saying—”

“or should we make out for a few minutes? :D”

“y/n!”

no but after exposing him to the idea, soon the only thing leaving his lips were yours every time you had to catch your breath— (oop)

JAKE ♡

honestly,,, he’s barely taken aback??? 😭😭

like jake srsly? 😭 way to ruin the fun 🙄

nO BUT YK WHAT HAPPENS NEXT THO???

okay so you were the one messing with him, right? buT SOMEHOW BEFORE YOU KNOW IT HE’S THE ONE HAVING FUN MAKING YOU FLUSTERED DJDNDJDJ

literally turning this entire thing around like it’s some game

and so now he’s the one having you forming into a useless ball of mush as he suddenly takes hold of your face, kissing you back passionately like he thinks you can handle it or something 😭

lucky for you he’s holding you so even if every muscle in your body shuts down, having you weak under his touch, LIKE IT DOESNT FEEL LIKE IT BUT you are safe and secure with him <3

moral of the story: almost always whenever your lips meet his and you pull away, his brain just automatically takes it that he needs your lips back on his again asap and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants

this boy puts a whole lot of value on the kisses he gets to share with you. sorry i don’t make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

SUNGHOON ♡

sunghoon is just smiling as he reminisces out loud some memories you two shared from a while back

and if you’re being honest, the moments he brought back to life through his words started to make you fall in love with him all over again

you smile ear to ear just as he is and suddenly you catch yourself staring at his lips,, maybe it was the pretty smile you were just always so attracted to…

*peck*

“hey! what was that for?!” your boyfriend exclaims, very obviously flustered by your sudden move on his lips and djdjsjsj you catch a glimpse of his cheeks growing red before he turns away to hide his cute face with his hands

is that not just the most adorablejejsjdjd

he takes a few deep breaths in to compose himself before turning back around, ready to scold you (ZJDJDJ yes hoon you go !! dhdjdj)

“y/n, you can’t just do that!”—yup, great one, hoon, keep going—“i—was talking! and that was rude to interrupt me while i was talking…yeah! and actually, i should be the one making you flustered! not the other way around!”

smoothhh

“oh, so i made you flustered then?”

“hey!—you—no! i’m just saying…”

you let out a small chuckle, “cute.”

“what did you just say?”

“i said you’re cu—“ *peck*

“park sunghoon!” you laugh, in shock

“now look who’s getting shy.”

I— ???

SUNOO ♡

when you suddenly kiss him in the middle of his long run down of the latest gossip between his peers, a gasp leaves his lips as a smile automatically graces his face

“hey!” he hides his face in his hands and chuckles unbelievably, whining playfully, “don’t do that!”

“what? you don’t like it?” you tease

“if you do that again, i’m gonna refuse to even bother talking to you. you hear me? got it?”

oh the sassy little sunoo threats

“mhm, it’s just ‘cause you wanna kiss me so bad too, huh?”

“oh my, y/n,” the boy literally face palms, sighing, “yeah, let’s continue this conversation another time.”

he’s so done (nah he actually loves playfully bickering with you) he literally begins walking off, so you shout, “so is that a yes to more kisses, or???”

“no!!!”

“are you sure??”

“ugh, fine!”

he loves you 🙄😔

JUNGWON ♡

HED GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST CUTEST PUPPY KITTY(??) EYES

like full on adoration

he doesn’t care that you just stopped and interrupted everything he was saying

he thinks it was just so cute that you kissed him like that

a smile grows on his face as he asks what that was for

and you tell him how he just looked cute and you apologize you couldn’t help yourself

and that was when he had it

and he immediately leaned in and kissed you right back

YANG JUNGWON CALM DOWN A BIT PLS ITS TOO MUCH FOR OUR WEAK YN HEARTS-

NI-KI ♡

GETS SO FLUSTERED RIGHT ON THE SPOT

right as you pull back and watch for his reaction he’s letting out a chuckle and pressing his lips together, turning his entire body to face away from your view

he’s in his own world for a moment, processing what just happened before getting flustered again and trying to calm down and compose himself

and so you try to get his attention again. you poke him a few times, “riki? riki? riki?!”

he turns around, TRYING TO ACT ALL COOL AS THOUGH HE WASNT JUST STRUCK WITH THE BIGGEST SWARM OF BUTTERFLIES IN HIS STOMACH

like riki your face is all red, you can’t hide nothin 🙄

“hm?” he asks in the most composed voice and with the calmest face he could pull off (p.s. he was not very good at acting “calm” at all whatsoever and you just couldn’t let this boy have his moment)

“you’re so red right now,” you point out and cackle

“do you wanna kiss again?”

SJSNDJ I— ???? NISHIMURA RIKI!?&@:’!

a/n | lol don’t mind if the tenses were all over the place in this one T-T i tried writing in present tense for once,, let’s hope it stayed that way throughout the whole thing djdjd ,, i hope you liked reading this one! first goldenhypen work in how many months?? hope you lovelies enjoyed !! likes and reblogs are very appreciated mwah <3

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[fanfic-ya-know]

Did You Get the Feeling?

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolt!Reader +platonic Thunderbolts (mostly Yelena) x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: reader is afab, mentions of a toxic relationship, language, alcohol consumption

AN: I have not stopped thinking about Lewis Pullman in weeks - it's becoming a problem. SO enjoy this little fic kinda based on this song I like. This is probably going to get a second part, so let me know if you guys are interested in that! And, as always, please send me your thoughts and/or requests!

Here's the link to part 2: I Guess You Got the Feeling

It had been a few weeks since you'd decided to break up with your shitty ex-boyfriend, and the only person on the team who knew was Yelena. Honestly, it was a long time coming, but you weren't ready for all the drama that came with ending a relationship. So you took it slow. With Yelena's help, you mourned the loss of the man you had devoted the last three years of your life to. She helped you work through all the stages of grief before you even told your boyfriend. It wasn't super fair to him, but after all he had put you through, you didn't really care.

Eventually, you worked up the nerve to tell him it was over, and he reacted exactly how you thought he would. First, he was defensive, telling you how much you'd be missing out on. Then he started getting more aggressive, calling you a bitch, saying that you were probably cheating on him with one of the guys on your team. Not that you ever would, but the idea wasn't entirely out of nowhere.

The two of you had fights before about Bob, about how much time you spent with him, about how much you texted him, and how you would drop everything in a moment's notice if he needed you. You sometimes felt bad about your relationship with Bob, and, for a while, even pulled back from it, in an effort to appease your boyfriend. But when that turned into him complaining about how clingy you suddenly were, you realized nothing you could do would please him. That was the beginning of the end.

Now, here you were, listening to him ramble on about how you'd never find another guy like him and how he's actually better off without you.

"Great," you said, cutting him off. "Thanks for being so understanding." Then, you finished gathering your things from his apartment and left. You felt free. You felt like you could fly.

By the time you reached the tower, though, you felt like you needed a drink. Somewhere during the walk home, your ex's words had sunk in. Maybe you would never find someone else. Maybe he was the best you could get, and you just blew it. He put up with a lot of your shit and almost never complained about your job. And now you had just thrown three years down the drain.

When you stepped into your room, you dropped the small bag of things you'd brought back with you, which suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It made a small noise as it hit the floor, and you simultaneously flopped face down on your bed.

You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, likely only a few minutes, before you heard a knock on your door. All you could manage was a groan in response.

"Okaaaay, I'm coming in," Yelena announced before opening the door. You could hear her padding across the floor, and the mattress dipped beside you. Yelena started patting your head awkwardly, unsure of what to do in this situation. "Sooooo," she started, opting to retract her hand since the patting didn't seem to help. "How did it go?"

You let out a strange noise, something between a grunt and a groan that was muffled by your comforter.

"You know I am going to need more details than that."

"Fine," you sighed, rolling onto your back. You told her about how things had gone and how you were feeling. Yelena had been your go-to person for all of your relationship problems. Even though you would consider Bob your closest friend, it felt weird to talk to him about these things. You didn't think he would want to hear about it, and that he probably wouldn't know what to say. Not that Yelena was great with advice - her default being "then break up with him" for some time now. But she was good at listening, and she made you feel a little less crazy when you were upset about something.

"So let's go get a drink," she said matter-of-factly once you had finished. "I've been dying to get out of the tower, and I know Ava would want to come with."

"I don't know," you groaned again. "I don't want to make a whole thing of it."

"Then we don't tell anyone why," she offered. "We can invite everyone, because Alexi will throw a fit if we don't, and we call it team bonding or whatever."

You propped yourself up on your elbows and contemplated her suggestion. "Okay," you said finally. "But let's go somewhere chill, I don't want to feel underdressed, and I don't have it in me to try to look nice."

Yelena let out a small laugh at that. "Got it, I'll go tell the team." And with that, she left your room.

You flopped back against the mattress and pulled your phone from your back pocket, beginning the slow and painful process of deleting all of the evidence from your relationship.

A few hours later, you'd managed to drag yourself out of bed and put on a fresh set of clothes. You put on your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and your comfiest sweatshirt. You reapplied your mascara and ran a brush through your hair, but that was all you had the energy for.

Yelena had texted you the time to meet in the common area before heading out. By showing up on time, you had managed to beat everyone there. Everyone except Bob. He was perched in his usual chair, likely having been there for a while, just waiting for something to happen. Bob lifted his gaze from his book when he heard your footsteps approaching, his eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of you.

"H-Hey," he said, marking his place in the book and setting it to the side. "I was, uh, looking for you earlier, but Y-Yelena said you'd gone to your boyfriend's place. I didn't want to bother you, but I-" he swallowed, looking up at you and then back down at his hands sheepishly. "I, uh, I dunno, I'm glad you're back."

You got that warm feeling in your chest at his words, something that happened a lot when you were around Bob. "Yeah," your voice came out in the way that you reserved for him, soft, but not quiet, more breathy than you usually were. "I'm glad I'm back, too. I missed you."

Bob's eyes snapped to yours at the confession. He smiled at you, and the warmth you felt in your chest seemed to bloom in his as well, a soft pink blush spreading from below the collar of his sweater up his neck, reaching the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It wouldn't be that noticeable if you hadn't been staring at him so intently.

Your shared focus was broken by the sound of the rest of the team coming down the hall, chatting about the bar you were all heading to and how much you all needed this. Yelena caught your gaze and gave you a reassuring smile.

The team piled into the elevator together, Bob opting for one of the back corners, pressing his back against the wall. You followed him in, turning to face the front of the elevator as it filled up, and you ended up with your back bumping into Bob's chest. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist, steadying you as you stumbled backwards into him. "Sorry," you half-whispered over your shoulder.

The doors to the elevator closed, and you turned your face back to the front. Glancing around, you realized something. "Guys," you addressed the group. "Where's Walker?"

The whole elevator burst into laughter at your realization. "Oh, he is going to be so mad," Yelena said between laughs. Even Bob let out a good chuckle, his breath hitting the back of your neck where you had swept your hair to one side. You smiled at the feeling, both because of how good it felt to hear his laugh and because of how nice it felt to be this close to him without feeling guilty.

When John finally joined the group in the lobby of the tower, he did not look happy. "You guys suck," was all he said before the team filed through the front doors, Yelena and Ava leading the way to whatever bar they had picked.

Not much later, you found yourself dangling from a stool at a high-top table in one of the dingiest bars you'd ever been in, trying to keep your sneakers off the sticky floor as much as possible. You had all taken a round of shots upon arrival, save for Bob, who was nursing a Coke Zero with lime, and now you had a mixed drink in your hand. You had no intention of getting drunk, just wanting enough alcohol to keep the ache in your chest at bay, Bob's proximity somehow both helping and hindering your goal. The brush of his arm against yours was certainly adding to the fuzziness in your brain. You looked over at him, watching the way his throat bobbed as he sipped his drink through the tiny straw.

Bob turned to face you, slightly pulling you out of your trance. "Y-You okay?" He asked with genuine concern lining his features, a crease forming between his brows. He was so beautiful, and it took a lot of your focus not to reach out and touch him.

"Yeah," you breathed out through a smile. You shook your head slightly. "Sorry, just lost in thought. I think maybe I should slow down," you said, gesturing to the drink in front of you. You weren't sure what was in it, having trusted Yelena when she pressed it into your hand before she disappeared onto the dancefloor somewhere with Ava.

Bob nodded at your words. Then, his eyes darted to your mouth as your tongue poked out to wet your suddenly chapped lips. When his gaze returned to your eyes, a blush rose to his cheeks, realizing what he had just done and that you had seen him.

Then, as if on cue, Yelena appeared out of nowhere. "Y/N!" she shouted over the music. "Come to the bathroom with me!"

This made you realize just how close you and Bob had been, since you were able to hear each other without raising your voices. "Where's Ava?" You asked her, scanning the crowded bar for your other friend.

"She and Walker are trying to teach Barnes how to be a normal person at a bar in the 21st century," Yelena explained. "Now c'mon, I have to pee."

You turned back to Bob with an apologetic look and took Yelena's outstretched hand. She began dragging you away as you called an "I'll be right back" to Bob as you waded through the crowd.

When you reached the bathroom, Yelena pulled you into the stall with her. You stood awkwardly, not looking directly at her. "Don't hate me," Yelena said.

"Okay," you responded hesitantly.

"But I told Ava," she continued. "Because sisterhood or girl code or whatever." You sighed and looked at her expectantly as she zipped up her pants, knowing there was more. With this team, there was always more. "And she told Bucky, and I'm pretty sure Walker overheard."

"Okay," you repeated, resigned to whatever would come of them knowing all about your love life.

"Well," Yelena said, her story evidently not finished. "Bucky told Alexi, and you know he's just sitting at the bar now-"

"So now the whole place knows?" you clarified.

"Not Bob," she offered, as if it made any difference. And it kind of did. You wanted to be the one to tell him that you were newly single, to try to gauge his reaction.

You exited the stall so that Yelena could wash her hands. She looked up at you in the mirror. "I'm sorryyyyyy," she grimaced.

"It's fine," you reassured her with a chuckle and a shake of your head. You weren't surprised in the slightest.

You followed Yelena out of the bathroom, but you stopped in your tracks, surprised to find that Bob wasn't where you had left him. Confusion etched on your face, you scanned the room. Yelena turned and gave you a knowing smile. "He's probably with the others," she shouted over the music that was once again thrumming in your ears. Yelena grabbed your hand once again, carting you behind her, in search of your friends.

You finally found them near the back, gathered around a pool table. John and Bucky were in the middle of a game, and Ava was antagonizing them both, saying if they had let her play, she'd be destroying them. "Yeah," John scoffed, "that's why we didn't let you play."

Alexi had managed to find the only comfortable-looking chair in the entire bar and looked as if he was about to pass out in it. You winced at the thought of trying to get him home later.

And then there was Bob. He was standing near a high-top table, guarding your drink like his life depended on it. He had a soft smile on his lips as he watched the trio at the pool table.

"Helloooooo?" Yelena announced your entrance, and the entire team paused to turn and look at the two of you. "You guys said you were going to wait for me," she directed to the group fighting over whose turn it was.

Bob's eyes stayed on yours from across the space, and his gaze softened slightly. Shit. He knew. You were sure someone had told him while you were in the bathroom, ruining your chance to tell him yourself.

You crossed the room towards him, and when you got close, he picked up your drink and offered it to you. You took the sweaty glass from his hand without breaking eye contact, his expression soft, comforting, maybe even hopeful. You pause in front of him, a comfortable distance separating the two of you. You ached to be closer, taking a deep breath, eyes still searching his. Finally, you looked down at the drink in your hand and lifted it to your lips. Bob watched intently as you finished the drink, his own throat flinching in reaction as you set the glass back on the table. His eyes caught on the small drop of liquid left at the corner of your mouth, and they widened as you wiped away the drop with your thumb and dipped it into your mouth, sucking it clean. The sight felt vulgar. "I'm going to get another," you said, breaking his concentration. "Anyone want anything from the bar?" you asked the group, turning away from Bob. He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

You listened as your teammates each gave you their orders, and then you turned to Bob, smiling sweetly. "Will you help me?" you asked. He just nodded in response, not trusting his voice.

You knew what you were doing as you led Bob through the crowd toward the bar, your hand in his larger one, fingers intertwined lightly. You'd gotten all the answers you needed from the look in his eyes earlier. And now, you were trying to give him the encouragement he needed to make the first move.

There was only enough space at the bar for you to squeeze between two of the other patrons and lean against the counter. Still, you held onto Bob, pulling him forward and placing your joined hands on the bar, forcing him to lean into you slightly and rest his chest against your back. You stood there a while, waiting for the bartender to take your order and bring you the collection of drinks. You paid and passed a couple of them back to Bob. Even with his help, it was a balancing act to carry all the drinks back to the group. By the time you returned, your sleeve was wet with John's spilled beer seeping into the soft fabric. He grumbled something about "of course mine is the one that spilled," but you weren't really listening. Instead, you tugged the sweatshirt over your head and laid it over the back of a chair, hoping it would be mostly dry by the time you guys left the bar.

You were more exposed than you typically liked to be in public, your tank top hugging your figure, and the neckline exposing the soft flesh at the top of your breasts. But the buzz from your first drink lingered, and your second held the promise of maintaining that fuzzy, slightly giddy feeling you needed. Bob’s stare, however, was affecting you far more than the alcohol. You could feel it - the way his eyes raked over your form, lingering on the swell of your breasts. When his eyes finally met yours, his blush darkened, realizing he’d been caught eye-fucking you. A flicker of gold flashed across his eyes, so quick, you almost missed it.

The rest of the night went smoothly. You and Bob maintained a safe distance for the most part, neither of you quite ready to break the barrier that was obviously crumbling between you. You laughed with your friends, almost forgetting why this outing had been planned in the first place. But as things wound down and your buzz dissipated, the ache in your chest returned.

Bob seemed to notice your mood shift as he made his way back over to you. The group murmured variations of the same sentiment: everyone was tired and wanted to go home. Bob picked up your sweatshirt from where you had left it and passed it to you wordlessly. You slipped the soft fabric back on, the sleeve now only slightly damp from the spilled beer. The moment felt tender, almost domestic.

Your group of friends trudged through the now nearly empty bar and out the door, the chill New York air hitting your face sharply. You winced at the feeling, and Bob turned at the sound. He watched as you rubbed your hands together, trying to generate warmth. He smiled softly, finding the sight adorable. He simply extended his arm toward you as you walked side by side, offering his right hand to you. Bob always ran warm, so you immediately accepted his offer, both of your hands clamping around his larger one. You intertwined the fingers of your left hand with his right and placed your right one over the back, sandwiching his hand between yours. It didn't seem to bother him at all, despite the stark difference in temperature.

You walked in near silence with your friends all the way back to the tower. Then, just like before, only now including John, you all piled into the elevator. Bob didn't move from your side, and you didn't let go of his hand. Your head lulled to the side, resting against his arm. You reached the residential floor, and everyone bid each other goodnight. It wasn't until you stood in front of your bedroom door that you finally detached from Bob.

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat feeling dry. You looked down at your hands, still tingling from the warmth of his touch. Your voice was so low that if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, Bob might not have heard you.

"F-For what?" he asked. You looked up to find his gaze already set on yours. There was a small crease between his brows as he looked at you, the question shown on his face. You wanted to reach up and smooth away the lines of confusion and worry and fear that seemed almost permanent in his expression. Instead, you twisted the ring around your thumb, a nervous tick you picked up for when you didn't know what to do with your hands.

"For walking me to my door," you shrugged like that was obviously what you meant, that you had only wanted to thank him for his chivalry, but you continued. "For tonight. For being so great."

Bob softened at your words, as he often did. "Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor. If not for the darkness, you would've seen the blush form on his skin. "Y-Yeah, no problem."

"I know someone told you," you said, finally deciding to address the topic that had hung in the air around you all night. "I wanted to tell you myself. I was going to, but I just didn't get the chance." You paused, thinking about your next words carefully. "I mean, it's no secret that things weren't going well for a while now, and I'm glad it's over. For a lot of reasons." Your words caught in your throat, suddenly feeling overcome with emotions. You searched Bob's eyes, you didn't know what you hoped to see, but what you found was quiet understanding. He was patient, letting you say what you needed to say without interruption, and you were grateful. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you for being there for me." Another pause, not sure of yourself. "And I'm just going to need a little time."

Bob gave you a small nod and a smile, not the wide, open-mouthed one you'd grown to love. This smile was just a twitch, pulling up the corner of his mouth for less than a second. "That's okay," he breathed out, his eyes glassy with understanding, with what felt like love.

"Take as long as you need."

[nekomamiiz]

third time's a charm

kuroo x fem!reader

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+, post time-skip!kuroo, husband!kuroo, various pet names in place of y/n, domestic vibes, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, masturbation (f), some spit, oral (f receiving), lots of teasing, soft dom kuroo, some nipple play, heavy breeding, impreg, multiple orgasms/creampies... it gets really wet, hot and messy, cockwarming, my extremely poor writing skills!

a/n: weeeee i'm out of hiatus.. sort of... this is just a lil something i was messing with before my break. finally after 2 years i finished it lol. anyway,, this is pure smut like barely any plot besides kuroo putting a baby in you and extremly self-indulgent but i hope yall enjoy it!! big thank you to @retrofang for beta reading some of this bad boy and the entire server for putting up with me heheh! likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. thank you for reading <3 kiss kiss

banner and dividers by @/cafekitsune

After months of carefully calculating, tracking, and monitoring your cycle, the time has finally arrived.

Ovulation week.

You quickly text your husband when you receive the notification on your app. The little chime went off before you left the house for work. It must really be perfect timing, and he immediately replied. 

Tetsurou <3 — I’m on my way back home. Don’t leave yet and call out for today.

— Actually, go ahead and put in your vacation request now. I’ll be there soon. 

Your reply was a simple heart emoji. You’d get yourself relaxed and ready while you wait for him. 

There wasn’t much to do. You had already showered this morning and made the bed before ‘leaving’ for work. As soon as Kuroo sent that text, you put your comfortable house clothes on and lit a few candles around the bedroom. The only thing left to do now is prepare yourself. 

So, that’s what you did. 

About half an hour later, Tetsurou walks through the front door of your home. He slips his shoes off, then his coat and that’s when he hears it—a soft and needy whimper of his name. 

As he pushes through your bedroom door, his eyes find your body already glowing with a sheen of sweat and so beautifully spread out on the edge of the bed. He licks his lips at the sound of your cute little moans and the slight squelch of your pussy. 

It all sounds so wet. 

You have two fingers inside yourself, stretching and stroking the walls of your perfect cunt, offering Kuroo the perfect view. His breath hitches at the sound of your moans becoming louder now that your eyes are solely on him, and his mere presence is enough to make your body shiver with desperation.

“Tetsurou,” you whine his name as your fingers pick up their pace in stimulating your sensitive pussy. Now leaking with a desire to have him buried inside you. 

Kuroo’s eyes trail down your body. He watches closely at how your chest heaves, how you twist your wrist so your fingers can reach the right spot inside, and how you whimper when you can barely get there. You’re putting on a show just for him, and he eats up every second of it. 

“Fuck, baby. Look at you,” he quietly groans at the lewd sight presented to him. 

He’s already palming himself through his slacks, using his other hand to remove the buttons of his shirt. He’s not in any rush, simply relishing the sight of you building yourself up to release, but you both know it’s not enough. The way you writhe and squirm on your shared bed has his body temperature rising, and he can see your want for him dripping out and onto the sheets below you, making such a pretty mess that he can’t wait to clean up. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby girl,” he says as he steps out and away from his pants, kicking his boxers to the side. “Were you getting yourself ready for me?” he asks with a slight pout on his lips. 

You nod your head as one of your hands quickly finds its way to your breasts, kneading at the sensitive skin and pinching your nipples between your fingers. Another whine escapes you at the added stimulation; add the sight of Kuroo fully undressed in front of you, spitting into his hand and stroking his cock—your mind quickly spirals. 

Kuroo settles on his knees at the foot of the bed, licking his lips as he stares down at all the slick collected between your thighs. He wastes no time leaning down in front of your aching pussy, and he smirks at the way you continue to desperately fuck yourself with your tiny little fingers. 

“Gonna let me taste,” he asks softly, looking up at you through the valley of your breasts. 

Your face is sweaty, and that faraway look in your pretty eyes is making itself more noticeable. Kuroo knows you're about to cum, and it's a face he loves to see. 

With another simple nod of your head and a quiet ‘yes,’ Tetsurou gets to work. 

He spreads your legs further apart and tosses them over his shoulders, tugging softly on your hips so you can be closer to him. His actions rip an excited squeal from your mouth, followed by your sweet giggles. 

You continue playing with your pussy, only tracing soft circles on your clit. Kuroo smiles at all the wetness collected on your fingers and takes hold of your wrist to remove your hand. He licks his lips before popping your glistening fingers in his mouth, sucking down all of your sweet juices and humming at the taste of you.

“Taste so fucking sweet for me, baby,” he coos while kissing your wet fingertips. 

He’s looking at you with eyes so full of love as he continues worshiping your body, kissing your hips and inner thighs. He groans when he sees more slick dripping out of you, biting down on your thigh and devouring the sight of your perfect cunt clenching around nothing. 

He needs to be inside you right now, but he also can’t help teasing you with his tongue for a bit longer. He licks a long, heavy stripe up your sensitive folds, groaning at the taste of you and how your entire body shudders beneath him. In this position, you’re at his mercy, his hands only holding your hips in place while you scratch and squeeze at his forearms from the intense pleasure he’s giving you with his mouth.

Kuroo chuckles against you, finding it so cute how you buck your hips in search of him. He’s already nibbling on your clit the way you like. What more could you possibly want? 

“What’s wrong pretty girl?” he asks, placing a soft, wet kiss on your clit. “Not enough for you?”

You whine at his question. He knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it and the need in your voice. 

“Want you inside me, Tetsu,” your words come out as a needy whisper, mewling in ecstasy as his fingers trace little circles on your thighs. 

Tetsurou hums in satisfaction before he dives back into your aching center. He teases your entrance with his tongue, poking the wet muscle in and out while he presses down on your clit with his thumb. He can feel the way you shake under him, your thighs quivering when he adds more pressure to your bundle of nerves. So close. 

His gaze trails upwards, admiring every dip and curve of your body until he lands on your beautiful face. He finds your eyes already focused on his every movement, your brows pinched in an expression of pure pleasure, and your mouth parted in a silent moan. 

You trap his head between your thighs, back arching off of the bed as your body vibrates from your first release. He greedily slurps down whatever you have to offer, moaning and growling into your sensitive pussy, allowing your orgasm to rip through your body in soothing waves. 

The look in your eyes is slightly distant—Kuroo thinks—and he still hasn’t bred you the way he wants. He’s not unfamiliar with your increased sensitivity during this time, but it’s far too early for you to be this stimulated.

“I’m not even finished with you yet, beautiful, and you’re already lookin’ so fucked out,” he teases, voice sweet yet equally rough. 

He crawls up the bed, pressing kiss after hot kiss on your skin as he makes his way face to face with you, large arms cradling either side of your head. His cock is ready and burning hot as it bobs against your lower lips, causing you to hiss at the slight overstimulation. You feel a few beads of precum fall and drip onto you as he captures your lips in a near-violent kiss. His intent seeps into your mouth, and he silently declares what he’s always promised. 

“You’re going to look so fucking beautiful when you have my babies growing inside you,” he says, low and slightly out of breath. 

The statement shocks you somewhat at his use of plurals, and you return to reality instantly. “One baby at a time,” you pout playfully, kissing him again. 

He pulls away and smiles so wide that it shows in his eyes, “I know. You know what I mean, I just want a big family with you.” He leans back down, placing soft kisses on the side of your neck, laughing through his nose as you smack his bottom. 

Your shared laughter fills the bedroom, the world outside these four walls completely nonexistent as you share sloppy kisses for what feels like hours. However, Tetsurou plans to claim you as if it were the first time all over again, and he wastes no time doing so. 

A warm hand snakes its way down the side of your body, tracing your curves with such care that he almost can’t handle the thought of being too rough with you. He is going to worship you today and ensure every ounce of his love shows in every move he makes and every kiss he leaves on your skin. He reaches between you—using two thick fingers to swipe through your folds—gathering enough slick to lube up his already weeping cock. 

He pumps his fist once and then twice before pressing the tip of his dick onto your clit, causing you to moan in pleasure at such little contact. Using his hand to gently rub his cockhead in figure eights around your pussy, he continues to tease your folds until finally deciding he’s gathered enough of your wetness to press into you—something he has been waiting all day to do. 

With as much time as he spent between your thighs, he is surprised at how tight you always are for him, and you can’t help but whine at the intrusion. His cock is so warm and feels so heavy; you might come undone from this alone. 

Kuroo starts to pump only a third of his length in and out of your quivering hole. Trying so hard to hold back all of his primal urges and working on building you back up again slowly, moaning in your ear as he relishes in the warmth the two of you share. Finally bottoming out inside you, he feels you convulse beneath him. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangled in his mess of hair as you tug slightly at the roots. 

“My fucking god, you feel amazing,” he says, clenching his jaw as if he hasn’t made love to you countless times, as if he hasn’t felt the heaven that resides between your thighs for years before this moment. Testsurou raises his head, looking at you, swiping a thumb across your cheek. “Tell me what you want, my love,” he demands, kissing you and resting his forehead against yours. 

He thrusts, slow and soft, and you spread your legs wider, thinking it would invite him to go faster, but he denies you. 

“I want all your cum inside, Tetsurou. Need you to put a baby inside of me,” you mumble breathlessly against his lips, grinding your hips to try and pick up the pace of his teasingly slow thrusts. “Please, baby,” you beg. 

“Is that all, pretty girl?” he asks, pulling out of you almost entirely and thrusting back in—quick and rough. You moan his name as the lewdest sound of skin against skin echoes throughout the room. One. Two. Three sharp thrusts followed by your sweet cries of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ and it’s then that he begins to fuck you with absolute purpose. 

Your hands have a mind of their own as they travel the expanse of his back, through his hair and back down again, nails leaving red trails on his skin while your thighs slide up and down the side of his body from the rhythm of his thrusts. 

His chest brushes against yours just right, stimulating your nipples and causing you to moan his name. He knows you so well and responds by leaning down, capturing your breast in his mouth as he opens wide and sucks hard, his teeth teasing your peaked nipple as he pulls away. He lingers momentarily, alternating between swirling his tongue and using his teeth to stimulate you. 

With a wet kiss, he pulls away, wrapping his arms around you and leaning back on his haunches as he holds you close. Your chests heave, and your skin slightly sticks together, the slickest part being where the two of you are connected, and he shudders at how quick you are to wrap your legs around his waist. 

“I can’t wait to make you a father,” you say, your eyes locking on his as you mewl from how he fills you in this position. The tip of his cock is surely hitting your cervix, and the familiar throb you feel while he pokes and prods inside has you grinding in circles against him, desperate to meet his thrusts. “You’re going to be an amazing father to our children, Tetsurou,” you whimper as your eyes meet his. 

He groans at your admission, his brows knitting together as he bites his lip in response. Both of his hands find their way to either side of your hips, gripping your skin and lifting you to speed up the pace. Your lips meet in a messy clash, your teeth scrape his tongue teasingly and he begins to unravel just in time with you. 

“I love you so much, angel, and I’m so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” he declares, moaning breathlessly and going up in pitch with each word. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps out, his lips meeting yours again while his hands dig and squeeze into your skin. 

A few more thrusts and lifts of your hips, and you can feel how close he is. His arms are beginning to tire, but he still hasn’t had enough of you. 

“I can feel you about to cum, Tetsurou. Please give it to me,” you sigh against his lips, locking eyes as you feel him begin to spill his hot load inside. 

“Fuck! You feel so good, baby,” he says as he lays you back down. “I’m still not finished with you yet, my love.” 

This time, he grabs one of the many pillows at the head of the bed, and you instantly know what he has in mind. You instinctively lift your hips, and he gives your ass a soft squeeze before you back settle down, perfectly propped for him to reach deep inside and plant his seed. 

Once you’re both comfortable with the position, he gets back to work, grabbing you by the meat of your thighs and spreading you open. He shivers when he sees a dribble of cum slipping out and down the crack of your ass—this is unacceptable. 

Golden eyes find yours as his fingers swipe up the mess he made. “Can’t waste a single drop,” he says, sucking his lip between his teeth, fucking his cum slowly back into you with his fingers. 

Wet squelches ring through your ears as you focus on his hand pumping in and out of you—the other gripped tight around the base of his cock, edging himself. The rough callouses on his fingers stimulate your gummy walls so well, and he knows what he’s doing to you. 

“Enough with your teasing, Tetsurou,” you huff out in short breaths, reaching down to take hold of his wrist. “Because I’m not finished with you either, my love,” your smirk mirrors his own. Guiding his hand out and up towards your lips, you suck on his wet fingers, moaning at the taste of your combined juices—a little salty but so fucking sweet. 

Laughter once again fills the large room as he moves to hover over you, licking your lips and having a taste for himself. 

“Always so eager,” he chuckles, moving to kiss your neck, sucking softly. 

Rolling his hips back and forth, he slides his length between your folds, tip catching at your entrance two or three times. He still gives you nothing—not yet—because telling him not to tease you only makes him want to do it more. 

As if sensing your annoyance, he gives in, guiding his cock to your entrance once again; he settles back on his knees, pressing inside of you inch by inch. Those skilled hands of his begin sliding up and down your thighs, deciding on gripping your ankles and resting them comfortably on his shoulders. 

The meat of your thighs lay flush against his chest; you can feel the heat radiating off of him along with the sweat that coats his defined abdomen. His large arms wrap around your legs, pulling you flush against him, and you revel in the feeling of his cock finally reaching that deep place inside. 

Kuroo stays there for a moment—perfectly still—kissing your calves, taking a bite here and there. You stare at him in complete awe as he begins to thrust in and out, tip prodding at your cervix each time. His eyes pinch shut, cheek resting against your calf as he loses himself in the feel of your warm walls squeezing him tight.

“Feels good,” you whisper, offering him a sweet smile before biting your lip and tossing your head back onto the plush mattress. You reach out to him, silently asking to hold his hand, and he doesn’t hesitate to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Using your hands as leverage, he speeds up his thrusts, setting a brutal pace as he pulls you in closer and closer, mumbling words of praise through pleasured groans. His cock throbs inside of you, nearing another release, and his balls feel heavy as they slap against your ass with every sharp thrust. 

“Gonna cum again,” he grits out, hips faltering in their rhythm just as he spills his load inside of you for the second time. He chants your name while mumbling ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ a few times, grinding into you to ensure his cum stays buried just as deep as he is.  

Releasing your hands, he runs his over the skin of your thighs, rubbing and scratching in soft circles. He takes your legs and folds you in half, your ass lifting off the pillow just slightly as he leans into you. His kisses are sloppy and wet, and he grips your thighs like a lifeline as he begins to jackhammer his cock into you. 

Wet squelching becomes the only sound you can register, drowning out his mumbled words of praise. You admire how beautiful he looks, lost in pleasure, eyes raking up and down your body, both of you glistening with sweat. 

He slowly builds you up to another orgasm, your body shaking the closer you get, and your pussy clenches around his cock in a vice grip. You can’t get enough of him, from the way his hands grip your skin so gently, the wild strands of black hair sticking to his forehead, down to the teasing words he showers you with throughout. 

You cum, your body trembling as Kuroo tries to keep you still, his nails surely leaving crescent marks on your thighs. He rises—no longer crowding over you—chest heaving and dripping in sweat. His amber eyes appear darker than ever as he continues to pound into you, overstimulating your pussy beyond what you can handle. 

“Don’t stop, Tetsurou,” you beg, wrapping your hands around your legs, spreading yourself so he can focus on his current task. His hands move to your hips, pulling you closer to meet every sharp thrust. 

“Third time’s a charm, right baby,” he teases, unable to help himself. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he chokes out, face contorting because he knows you did that on purpose, but he laughs anyway. 

His cock throbs inside of you, eyes zeroed in on that thick creamy ring coating the base of him, and the sight makes him groan—sucking in his bottom lip. There’s so much cum dripping out of you with every thrust in and out, and he fucking loves it. 

“Keep going, baby,” you encourage him, nodding your head when you feel his hips falter in their movement. “Give me everything. I want it all, Tetsurou,” your words come out in broken cries, relishing the sight of him coming undone. 

A few more thrusts and his cum fills you— so warm and thick—thicker than the previous ones. There’s no doubt in either of your minds that this will take; he just has to stay inside a little longer. 

Releasing your grip on your legs, you finally relax, setting your feet back comfortably on the mattress. Kuroo continues to rock his hips slowly, pushing his cum further inside of you, his mind elsewhere as he flits his gaze between your face and your pussy. 

“You look so pretty with my cum inside you, princess,” he nearly giggles, satisfied with his work and the euphoric look in your eyes. “Think we can keep this up for the rest of the week?” he asks, breathless, offering you that same sideways grin you fell in love with years ago. 

This makes you toss your head back, mirroring his laughter and clenching around him with every exhale. You reach your arms out, and he leans back over you, placing several kisses on your chest and neck—his nose brushes against your cheek, waiting for your response. 

“Let’s get some rest first. You look like you’re about to pass out from dehydration,” you say, amused at his shift in demeanor. 

His arms wrap around your frame, rolling you over so you now lay on top of him, fingers tracing invisible words on your back. He is still inside you, keeping his seed nice and warm, not allowing a single drop to escape.

“I made sure to have plenty of water today, and you know I can go for hours when the moment calls for it,” he delivers his statement with one shallow thrust, just enough to rub against that spongy spot inside. 

Too overstimulated to try for another round, you place your palms on his chest, resting your chin on the back of your hands as you admire his features. He plants a few pecks on your forehead before he moves a hand to caress the side of your face, thumb swiping gently on your cheek. His eyes bore into yours as you lay there for a minute or two, taking each other in. 

“You think that was enough?” you ask, nuzzling your cheek deeper into his palm to place a kiss on his wrist.

“If that wasn’t enough,” he looks down, gesturing at the mess of cum between you. “I’ll make sure it will be by the end of the week,” he says reassuringly, leaning in to claim your lips in a kiss. 

After today and the amount of cum dripping out onto the mattress, you do not doubt his ability to put a baby in you. 

The rest of the week continues the very same, and if you thought you’d already made love on every surface of your home before, then you’re wrong. Kuroo finds new places to take you that you never thought imaginable, and his stamina has become endless in his mission to get you pregnant. 

➣

About a month and a half later, you find yourselves hovering over the bathroom sink, waiting for the plastic sticks you arranged in a row to reveal their results. It’s only been a few days since your period was supposed to arrive, but you can’t help being excited at the possibility. 

Minutes pass, and the first stick displays two pink lines, the second and the third following right behind with the same result—you both lean in closer. Tetsurou’s eyes quickly shift between the instructions, the test, and your face. He takes in your expression—shock and absolute joy— and pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you slightly off the ground as happy tears fall from your eyes. 

He kisses your face, setting you back down to leave another on your lips. You hum against him in complete bliss, satisfied with the results of your love. 

Tetsurou pulls away, sporting the cheekiest grin that nearly stretches from ear to ear.

 “Told you I’d make sure it was enough.”

don't forget to like + reblog and let me know what you think ! love yall <3

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Delicious Promises

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: smut, fingering

Summary: You and Dean are always at each other’s throats, making it hard to hunt with each other. What you two need is a good way to release your frustrations, no matter who is around to hear it.

Square Filled: one bed for three (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Hunting with the Winchesters brings out two emotions: excitement and annoyance. Excitement because you love hunting with them, saving people, and killing monsters. You can do it by yourself but they’re so good at what they do, it makes sense to want to do it with them. Annoyance because you can’t stand Dean. He’s cocky, arrogant, bossy, and always thinks he’s right about everything. You can’t stand the man. Sam is usually the buffer between you and Dean and can often keep both of you calm but if you’re alone with the older Winchester, things won’t end well.

You’re also pissed off because he’s so hot. You’ve roomed next to him before; he knows exactly what he’s doing when he has a woman in his bed. Women fawn all over him whenever he walks into a room, and can you blame them? It pains you to admit but you often thought about being one of those women in his bed at times.

Not only does he piss you off, but you piss him off, too. You hunt just as well as he does if not a little better, and it drives him up a wall when you don’t listen to him. You go off on your own and do whatever it is that you want despite you always telling him you can handle it. It always seems to work out in the end for you which is what pisses him off.

Sam, on the other hand, is one of your best friends. You two get along great which is why you agreed to go on this hunt with them. He asked for your help knowing he and his brother wasn’t going to be enough. Dean’s been driving for nearly an entire day to get to Maine, so he decides to stop at some hotel instead of a motel. They have Men of Letters money so they can splurge on sleeping comfortably tonight.

There is a convention happening in town so there is only one room available by the time you get to them. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem since you took turns sleeping in the bed whenever you were with the Winchesters. As long as there were two beds and a sofa bed, you’d be alright. However, when you get to the room, you are disappointed to see only one bed--a California King.

“Tell me there is a sofa bed,” you say. You walk over to the couch and lift the cushions only to be disappointed again. “Shit.”

“It’s fine. This is big enough for all three of us. Just sleep in the middle,” Sam says.

You barely look at Dean. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Is sharing a bed with us that traumatic?”

“Yes, actually because you’ll be in there,” you sneer.

“Will you two quit it? We’re here to hunt, and we can’t do that if you’re at each other’s throats. Can’t you two just get along?”

“I know I can,” you say and cross your arms.

“I know I can,” Dean mocks you in a faux female voice.

You resist the urge to throw something at his fucking smug face.

“Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed with you two.”

“Fine.”

You grab your bathroom bag and lock yourself in the bathroom to do your nighttime routine. It takes twenty minutes to complete the entire routine, and you leave the bathroom once you feel refreshed and ready for bed. You grab your moisturizer and lift your right leg to rub the lotion onto your skin. Dean peeks at you from over the gun he’s cleaning. After doing your right leg, you do your left leg and Dean doesn’t take his eyes off you the entire time.

You put the lotion aside and crawl into bed between the two brothers. Dean finishes with his gun and puts it away to crawl in next to you. Sam is already snuggled under the covers with a book in his hand.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters.

“What?”

“You expect me to lay here and smell that girly shit?”

“If you don’t like it, sleep on the couch,” you smirk.

“Both of you, shut up and go to sleep,” Sam scolds you two like children.

Sam is the first to fall asleep since he can fall asleep anywhere, but you and Dean are a different story. You always have trouble falling asleep in beds that are not your own and this is no exception. It doesn’t help you’re in the middle of a Winchester sandwich. Sam is a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t feel you moving to get comfortable, but Dean does. He had to be a light sleeper to look after Sam so he can’t sleep unless you’re still.

“If you’re going to keep moving, go to the couch,” he hisses.

“I can’t get comfortable.”

Dean rolls onto his side, grabs your hips, and pulls you into him. You freeze the second you feel his hard cock on your ass. Dean’s hot breath falls over your ear and neck causing shivers to rave down your spine.

“Stop moving and go to sleep.” It’s kind of hard to go to sleep now when you can feel every inch of Dean’s cock pressed between your ass cheeks. You shift as you try to think about anything else, but him and you end up pressing your ass further into him. Dean’s teeth nip at your ear and he growls his next words. “Do not move.” Okay, now you’re moving just to piss him off. You can play him so easily. Dean’s hand slides over your hip to the front of your body where he presses his fingers to your clothed pussy. That causes you to still. “If you want to play this game, sweetheart, I’ll play this game. One rule. Don’t wake Sam.”

Dean’s hand slips underneath your silk pajama shorts, pleased to find you’re wearing skimpy cotton panties. He passes the cotton barrier and presses his fingers against your clit. You jerk against his body but he holds onto you tightly so you don’t move much. He runs two fingers down the length of your slit, gathering the wetness he feels.

“I haven’t even touched you and already, you’re so wet for me.”

He pushes one thick finger into you, and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out. Sam would kill you if he knew what was happening mere inches away from him. Dean pushes in a second finger and curls them to press against your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp quietly.

“Do you feel what you do to me? You get me so fucking hard. It takes everything I have not to bend you over and fuck that attitude out of you,” he whispers against your ear.

It’s somehow hotter that he’s whispering to you instead of speaking normally. So intimately… so close.

“So do it,” you smirk.

Dean slams his fingers into you rapidly and rubs your clit in hard small circles. The pressure is becoming too much not to make noise, and you arch your back as much as possible. It’s a good thing Sam is a heavy sleeper otherwise he’d hear your heavy breathing and slick sounds from your pussy.

“Fuck, Dean,” you whimper.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come for me? Hmm?”

You can’t respond to him even if you want to. The pressure builds deep in your core, and he can feel you tightening around his fingers. Fuck, he can only imagine what you’d feel like around his cock and tongue. Next time. His cock is rock hard and pressing against your ass, begging for release, but he’s not going to take care of him until he takes care of you.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” you whisper.

“Go ahead. I got you.”

He circles your clit hard and the pressure inside of you explodes, and you feel your entire body start to float from ecstasy. Your pussy clenches and unclenches as you come, and he continues to thrust his fingers in and out to ride out your high. When he knows you have no more to give him right now, he pulls his fingers out of you slowly to tease you. You don’t have to look at him to know he is sucking you off his own flesh.

“Damn, sweetheart. Next time, I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“That’s just another thing I’m better at than you.”

“What thing?”

“Making you come,” he smirks. Your jaw drops several inches at his remarks, and he lets you go to give you some space. He turns over in the bed so that his back is facing you instead of his chest. “Go to bed.”

How the hell can you think about sleeping now when all you can think about is Dean and the possibilities he and his cock can give you?

x

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[practistyles]

take a break

(everyone wants him extra)

In which Y/N is really stressed and Harry forces her to take a break

991 words

Y/N hated everything about her anxiety - but the thing she hated the most was how physical it got. The entire day she felt she would throw up at any moment, her head pulsed every time she moved, and her fear was a physical entity living inside her chest. It didn’t help that Y/N had had three cups of coffee to keep herself up. She fucking hated unversity. It felt like as much as she kept trying, they kept testing her. Y/N had never been one to burn out or overwork herself. But ever since she started university, it felt like that was all she did. She was struggling to keep her friendships intact, she got homesick more often than not. Her only saving grace was Harry. She tried to keep him as close to her as possible, but he was a person of his own. And she was a bit grateful for that too, because with the amount of work she had due it would have been very dangerous to have Harry in the room with her.

She sat at her table, desk lamp casting the room in a faint glow, the work weighing up on her shoulders.

“You’ve been in that position since I left this morning,” a voice said. Y/N turned around in her chair to see Harry leaned against her open door, arms crossed.

“Go away,” she grumbled.

Harry did not listen, and came into her room. He collapsed onto her bed dramatically. “I bought snacks.” Y/N then noticed the bag he carried with him.

She raised her brows. “Are those…?”

“Alma’s cookies,” Harry grinned victoriously. “She put in extra when I told her they were for you.”

Y/N turned back to her work. “Hm. She loves me a lot.”

“No, I think it’s me that she loves.” Harry said. There was shuffling, and then he was right next to her, his hand hovering over her laptop screen, ready to close it. Y/N reached out in blind panic to stop him.

“I will literally murder you,” she said.

“That’s kind of hot. I’ll take it,” Harry said with a grin, gently pulling his hand away from hers. “Come lie down with me for a bit.”

Y/N didn’t even look up. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Harry.”

“Do you realise what you’re saying no to?”

She sighed. “Yes, I’m saying no to wasting time I could be using to actually finish my work.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Wasting time? You wound me.”

“Harry, I cannot take a break. In fact, even this is too much for me.”

“You’re two minutes away from literally fainting. Come on,” Harry said. He spun her chair around to make her face him. Y/N’s head spun at the sudden movement, and she closed her eyes in a wince.

“Fuck, Y/N, when was the last time you even ate?” Harry said, concerned, as he held onto her knees and dropped down in front of her.

“I did have lunch,” Y/N said weakly. Her resolve was melting the more she thought of lying in her comfortable bed with Harry next to her. “Stress just really makes me lightheaded.”

“You always worry too much,” Harry tutted. “Let’s take a break, please. You deserve that. And I missed you.”

Y/N smiled. “I missed you too. I always do. I just have so much to do.”

“And you’ve been doing it since forever. So hanging out with your clingy boyfriend for like fifteen minutes will only refresh your mind.”

Boyfriend. Y/N’s insides glittered. He was too irresistible. She got up and threw herself onto her bed.

“Want a massage?” Harry offered, grabbing her foot in his hands. But she shook him off and gestured for him to lie next to her.

“Not from you. Come here,” she said, and he very readily obliged.

They snuggled together, Harry positioning her under him. He bought his hands up to her head and rubbed at her temples in gentle circles.

“That feels so good,” Y/N mumbled.

“I wish you didn’t work yourself out like this so often,” Harry said softly. Y/N was lying with her back to his chest but she could hear the frown in his voice.

“It’s productive,” she said.

Harry scoffed. “It’s not. Not when you feel half dead by the end of the day.”

Y/N smiled. “I have a boyfriend who takes very good care of me,”

“Oh?” Harry said. He smoothed his palm over her hair, stroking gently. “Well, he hates seeing you stressed. He always wants to see you smile.”

“Oh my god, you just referred to yourself in the third person. I’m breaking up with you.”

“No way. I’m never letting you go,” he said and put his arms around her.

“You said fifteen minutes. I think we’re done with five already.”

Harry groaned. “Fifteen minutes starting now. And you can’t move. Or talk about work. Or think about your work.”

“Can I cry about my work?”

“You could. Or we could just continue to talk about how good of a boyfriend I am.”

Y/N laughed out loud and turned around to face him. She kind of hated lying with her face away from him. “The best boyfriend. Thanks, Harry.”

His eyes softened. “For what, Y/N?”

She reached up to touch his eyebrow and smooth it out. “For reminding me to take a break, but also for everything. For being you. For letting me be near you.”

Harry kissed her just as she said the last word. His lips were soft against hers, warm and comforting just as he was. “I should be thanking you. I’m always here, okay? We’re always gonna be here together.”

Y/N felt those words deep in her bones. She couldn’t remember why she had been so worried, why she had thought her life was about to fall apart when actually it was right here - soft and warm and curly haired in her arms, glowing softly in her dim room lighting.

****

😭😭😭😭I love them. finals season is beating my ass rn. I have so many ideas but so less time.

taglist - @angeldavis777 , @isinpfortvdmen , @mads3502 , @drewrry , @shelfinthedark, @mema10

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere! Revenant harem w/ "queen" darling

A/N: ya'll won't leave me alone about this damn harem lol. ! jkjk I love ya'll but idek what to really add onto the harem stuff like please...I'm dying here. please eat this while I finish my requests.

requests: always open for my baby girls

Warnings: Ya'll should be famillair with the type of time I'm on

masterlist

hypothetically...let's say the original harem failed at protecting you and the revenants won and took you captive *tbh that's the only reason they came*

The revenant harem is all about teamwork, that's why they won. None of them mind sharing you and serving you is their sole purpose of living..well being undead?

You were their prize before they died and now in their afterlife, you are the only thing they can think about. They must protect their living darling from suffering their same fate. You are their queen now, they'll stop at nothing to prove that to you. Before they were playing fair, letting you choose who you wanted but they are done waiting. They are all yours to love.

Once captured by the harem, you will no longer have any life outside of them. You are not going anywhere. They hate the thought of you interacting with the outside world. Seriously, you are on lockdown. They even hate the idea of you visiting your family. They are your family.

were you a champion? Oh, well you're no longer allowed to ever fight or train again. They forbid you because they were all skilled and dedicated their lives to it but now look at them..you cannot get hurt.

Actually anything remotely dangerous is a no go.

There's never a second when you're alone, they're enamored by you. They've most likely built an entire castle for you, fit with a throne only you may be allowed to sit on. bouquets of flowers and jewels gifted at your feet. They bow in your presence and cannot wait to throw themselves at any opportunity to do something for you.

Anything..please anything you want. They'll gladly go to war for you and take over the entirety of the outworld for your ruling. Just say the words and they'd do it. You deserve to be Kahn with your ever so graciousness.

say jump and they'll say how high. If you never felt like walking again your feet won't ever have to touch that filthy ground ever again.

Don't let this fool you though, they are absolutely insane. They are still dangerous yanderes who will collectively punish you for any signs of disobedience. Don't run away, don't fight back or reject them..

Actually...do fight back. come on..they dare you. They love it when their queen plays rough. Who wouldn't want to be punched by you? They'll taunt and mock you while your weak self tries to fight them ...you're hilarious. If you are super powerful and is actually causing trouble, you will be punished by the more intense characters. Do you think you're getting past Raiden?

"A shame I had to use such intense force to subdue you. Although you are very dear to us, do not think for a second are exempt from proper discipline. Your fate will be shortly decided."

punishments range from you having some luxuries revoked to being dropped off in the living forest and left there to fend for yourself for a couple of hours.

You got the absolute worst version of every-single character...like a harem that consists of REVENANT Dark Raiden and Noob Saibot is a harem you def don't wanna mess around and find out with.

I know in the previous harem it seemed like every girl's dream..yeah no. Not this one.

Oh and they also like to control what you wear. Elaborate regal clothing is their favorite, especially with a huge headpiece. Your schedule is also controlled throughout the day. They have everything perfectly balanced to fairly share you and to take shifts protecting your castle. Occasionally though, some will get into fights with each other when one is a bit more needy and tries to hog up your time. The most sought-after time though is when you're either getting ready in the morning or settling down in the evening. To be the one to brush your hair or to help you out of your ridiculous garments is an honor.

I like to imagine that when you sleep, they all gather around your bed, admiring your beauty. none of them are allowed to sleep on your bed, They'll just huddle on the floor around it. reminds me of the quote "sleeping on your floor is better than sleeping in my bed." They all have their own rooms but rather be near you.

they're so far gone, you have to remind them every time you need to use the restroom that no. they cannot follow you in.

"Johnny, no. I need some privacy please."

*on his knees* "But my sweetheart...I just want to offer you some assistance."

"johnny- i have to pee..."

This way of life is completely normal...that's what they keep telling you at least..That their actions are innocent. Oh they just can't bear a second without you, bullcrap. So manipulative. They are still the same grimy men as before lol

Especially Kano and Erron..somehow death just made them have less of a filter.

Do you think Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Hanzo, and Kuai forced the monks and both clans into being your personal army? They're so damn corrupt.

They'll instantly kill anyone who dares to even look at you. It's only their special privilege. Their head will be gifted to you on a silver platter to show their undying devotion. Are you crying? did you not like their gift? They're sorry. Would you have preferred something more?

Speaking of you being upset, if someone in the harem causes you distress they'll be exiled after punishment...that is if they survived it.

[bloodibambiidoll]

ok so hear me out. rafe and weird!girl get into an argument and rafe calls her weird or says something about her being normal for once and my girl gets all upset as she should.

Nonnie, are you in my walls? I’m very much having a day like this. This is heavily based on the day I had today and writing it made me feel sm better. Slight angst. Fluff. 1.8K words. NO MINORS!! (Note: weird!girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic)

You were extremely overwhelmed. It feels like every single thing is out to get you today. Before you and Rafe left to go on your first grocery shopping trip since you moved in together you got into a bit of a disagreement over the list. You are extremely picky. You have set safe foods that you like to stick to and you don’t like to stray from them. But Rafe on the other hand would eat almost anything. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you wanted to live off of freezer waffles and chicken nuggets when he hired a professional chef for the two of you.

“Baby, why would I buy you the cheap freezer shit when I can have it made from scratch all fancy n shit?” It wasn’t about the price, you know that. It was just that Rafe wanted you to have the best of everything he could possibly give you and sometimes you just wanted the simpler things. Something that he’s still trying to understand.

“It’s just… I don’t want that. I want the ones from the store. That I always get. The ones I like.” Your lips were formed into a pout as you looked down at your lap and played with the rings on your fingers.

“Aight, Bats, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged and kissed your forehead before leaving you to finish getting ready. It was what you wanted. But you could tell it wasn’t what he wanted so you felt bad. You didn't want to be an inconvenience.

So after that you got in your head that you were too much for him. You spent the entire card ride to the grocery store thinking about how a normal girl wouldn’t want specific foods. A normal girl would be more than happy to have a personal chef make them anything and everything they wanted. A normal girl would be able to go to those fancy restaurants Rafe likes because she’d actually like anything on the menu. He tried to take you once and you spent the entire meal picking at your plate of chicken and veggies, so he never tried again settling to go places that had things you actually liked.

Then at the store you were so in your head that if you hadn’t made a list you probably wouldn’t have gotten a single thing you wanted. You couldn’t stop feeling like you were a burden to him because you needed him to buy you an entirely different grocery list from his own. You kept trying to put things back. Or tell him you didn’t need things that you did, in fact, need. You could tell Rafe was getting frustrated with you and it only made you want to shut down even more.

It didn’t help that the grocery store was easily one of your least favorite places. The lighting was awful. There were always so many people everywhere not looking where they’re going. The freezer section was always so cold that you spent that entire section of the shopping trip practically shaking. It was so goddamn loud. People talking. Kids crying. The squeaking of the old grocery cart wheels. So going there when you were already feeling overwhelmed was a recipe for disaster.

You fully lost it when you were checking out. The cart was extremely disorganized because you were too checked out to keep it in order the entire trip. The store you were at had it so you bagged your own groceries so the fact that the cart was a complete disaster made bagging them incredibly difficult. You were struggling to keep up with the cashier and also bag the groceries efficiently. He kept pushing the conveyor belt button, rolling the groceries that you haven’t bagged yet to pile up on top of each other at the end of it. The cart was full of bags and you weren’t even half done so you had to run and grab another one, only letting the pile grow further.

Rafe bought a case of beer and it the midst of you trying to frantically bag everything in a timely manner the cashier also asked you for your I.D. Which only frustrates you more. You don’t even drink beer. And it made you have to pause bagging again to dig in your purse. The cashier kept looking from the card to you and back again, like he thought it was fake.

“I know I look nothing like that, that was 7 years ago.” You didn’t mean to sound snippy, but you were pretty much at your limit.

“Baby, it’s fine, he’s just lookin’ for the date.” Rafe shot you a look and it only pissed you off more.

“Well he’s looking at it like it’s fake or some shit!” You scoffed as you slammed a full bag into the cart. Which only earned you another look from Rafe.

On the way home he hardly talked to you, instead he decided to blast trap music when you were clearly already overstimulated so you decided to put your headphones on and drown him out.

“Bats, the fuck is going on with you today, huh?” Rafe is towering over you the minute you enter the kitchen, backing you up against the counter.

“I just don’t like the grocery store. And you made me feel bad about the food. And everything was just so loud in there. And I felt like you hardly talked to me the entire time. I’ve felt like an inconvenience to you all day!” You snap at him as you stomp your foot in frustration, glaring up at him.

“All we did was go to the fuckin’ store. You’re seriously that worked up over it?” Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes! I am! The grocery store is extremely stressful for me and you’re not being considerate of that!!”

“That’s ridiculous, people go to the grocery store every day. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you can’t just be fuckin’ normal sometimes.” Rafe throws his hands up, letting them fall against his thighs with a smack. The minute the words leave his mouth your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears brim your eyes. And he knows he fucked up. Immediately he knows he fucked up.

“You know what? Why don’t you go find a normal girlfriend then!?” You push against his chest, running past him to your shared bedroom. You slam the door behind you, sliding down it as the tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks. You knew it.

“Baby…” Rafe’s voice travels through the thick wood as he lightly taps on it. “ I’m sorry… that was- I shouldn’t have- Bats, can you open the door, please?”

“No. Go away.” You whimper as you curl further into yourself against the door.

“Baby girl, please? Just wanna talk. Lemme see you.” He turns the knob, pushing on the door lightly causing you to shift forward slightly. “C’mon, get away from the door, let me in.”

“Why don’t you go find a normal girl to talk to.” You snap at him before trying to push back against the wood but he’s so much stronger than you that it doesn’t even budge. Rafe shoves his foot into the crack of the door, pushing it until he can slip through. It slams shut behind him from your weight, causing you to yelp. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Baby, look at me.”

“No.” You shake your head, subconsciously nuzzling into his touch. Your lips are quivering so bad your teeth are chattering as tears flow down your cheeks and Rafe kind of wants to kick his own ass.

“Listen I- I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I didn’t - fuck baby, I didn’t mean that shit. I was just frustrated. Doesn’t make it okay though, never wanna make my girl cry.” Rafe runs his thumbs down the apples of your cheeks, wiping away the salty tears that continue to fall. “I think I’ve gotten pretty damn good about knowing how you work. But with us living together now there's gonna be new shit that I’m gonna have to pick up on. I’m so sorry princess.”

“I just - I - just wanna be enough for you. Don’t wanna be a burden.” Your body tries to curl in on itself even more but Rafe doesn’t let it, he grips onto your hips and pulls you into his lap. He wraps his strong arms around you as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Want you to listen to me baby, aight?” He takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head towards his to get you to look at him. When you do it nearly cracks his heart. He hates that he made you feel like everyone else always has. “I never should’ve fucking said that shit. I didn’t mean it. Not even a little bit. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I fuckin’ love you and all your weird little shit. Your weird little shit just makes me love you more. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’ve taught me so much. I guess I’ve just still got some shit to learn. But I’m trying, Bats. I’ll never stop trying.”

“You really mean it?” You sniffle as you look up at him through your teary eyes and Rafe has never felt more bad than he does at this moment. If he saw anybody else making you cry like this they would be so fucked and here he is, doing it.

“Of course I fuckin’ mean that shit, baby girl. I’m sorry for losing my patience with you today. I never, ever, wanna hurt you. Never wanna make you feel like all these other douchebags on the island do. Kind of want to run them all over, including myself right now.” Rafe lets out a dry chuckle when he sees the corner of your lips tilt up slightly. His large hand runs down the back of your head, smoothing down your hair as he continues to rock the both of you. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“It’s okay, Rafey. I know I can be too much sometimes. But I do know that you love me.” And you do. Especially right now. Rafe never opens up to you like this. And you kind of want to blow him right now.

“Hey, you aren’t too much, aight? Don’t ever let anyone make you feel that way. Including me, put my ass in check baby. God knows I need it.” He smiles down at you before leaning to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Want me to put some nuggets in the air fryer for you and we can watch that movie you’ve been trying to get me to watch?”

“Mhm, that sounds perfect daddy.”

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[jarofstyles]

Illicit

Hello my loves! Welcome to the first part of our next mini series we've been working on behind the scenes. The next 2 parts are available immediately on Patreon now, but will be updated here in the next few weeks!

Patreon

Warnings- cheating ( WITH y/n), Asshole Harry, I hate everyone but her, old money/wealth, toxic relationship dynamic, harry is mean and will be mean but not to Y/N lmao, smut

WC- 2.4k

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Harry had just finished cleaning himself of cum as his phone rang. 

It was his girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, really, because this wasn’t a real relationship. Not in his mind, anyways. 

“What?” His voice was a sharp whip, already annoyed that the post orgasm bliss had been interrupted by Katherine. Y/N was sitting next to him, her leg thrown over his thigh as fingers traced over his chest, absentminded circles pausing when she heard his attitude already. Her brow raised as he lifted the phone to show the name on the screen, making her nod, lips turning down. That irritated him further. 

“When are you coming to get me?” A voice that pierced his ears made him close his eyes, a dull throb beginning to coast down his head. “Daddy said you’re coming to the event and you were going to pick me up!” 

She was huffing like a child, not wanting to wait. Realistically, he would leave in 30 minutes. Y/N would stay curled up in his bed and wait for him to come home before he took her away to one of his family cabin’s with the rest of their friend group- the ones who knew of him and Y/N. He would spend the entire night trying to think of an excuse to get back to her early, and hoping Katherine wouldn’t throw a fit about not being able to come on this ‘business trip’.  

“You live with your father. Could you have not shared a ride?” His tone was icy, something Y/N had never been the recipient of. Thank god, really. As sexy as it was to hear him talk like that to other people, it would definitely make her cry. The man was intense, even he knew that, but not everyone seemed to catch on. 

“Hazza! Come on.” She whined. “He already left and stopped by the office. I’m getting ready now but we have to be early for the photos!” As if that was going to help her cause. It was like the girl had a handbook on how to say the wrong things. 

Harry didn’t do those stupid step and repeats. While Katherine loved being the center of attention, it wasn’t something Harry desired. In actuality, he detested it. He hated paparazzi and had broken 2 cameras from having them in his face without a second glance. No aggression, the picture of calm with pure ice on his face as he did so. If they valued their possessions, they shouldn’t be shoving them in people’s way. That’s what he thought, at least. 

“I’ll be there in an hour. I’m not doing those photos. I don’t care what you do. Now stop calling me when I'm in the middle of things. You know if I don’t answer once, wait for further instruction.” He paused. “And stop calling me that childish nickname. I don’t find it cute or endearing, it’s embarrassing. Goodbye.”

There was a sharp squeak as he hung up the phone and threw it to the ground, rolling Y/N around onto her back and sliding his still sticky cock back inside of her yet again. His annoyance was clear on his face, but it quickly melted away as her arms wrapped around him and her lips covered his face with soft coos, legs pulling him in deeper. Maybe she was a bit sore, maybe his last load was still dripping out of her messy hole, but she knew exactly how the man needed to express himself. 

“I know.” Her silky voice wrapped around his tension and broke it down, slow thrusts inside of her quelling the bubbling irritation in his stomach and turning it into arousal. Y/N could read his stone cold features, knew what his eye twitch meant, the simple movement of a brow or the tiniest down or upturn of lip. This magnificent woman seemed to have him all figured out, and he felt like shit for having to leave and be seen with another woman. “I know, baby. Only a few more months.” Fingers stroked his hair back, guiding his lips to her own.

 He kissed her back, eyes squeezing shut as he allowed himself to lose the anger that had developed by focusing on her. The heat of her cunt wrapped up tight around him, snug. Fitting him perfectly, just as it always had. Y/N was the one he had wanted to take to these things, but he had to wait. For once, his patience wasn’t being practiced. 

The best thing in his life had to be hidden from most people, all because he had taken a stupid deal. He had to go out with the girl who thought she was going to be the next Mrs.Styles, while all he wanted to do was stay nestled in his luxury sheets with Y/N’s soft, supple body to worship. 

It was all his fault, though. 

He had always been ambitious. Ruthless, some may say, but he knew that to a degree he could be cruel to get what he wanted. That was how had been raised. His father had put that right into his head, doing anything for success, power, money… that’s how he ended up in this situation. 

In order to secure the deal of a lifetime, he had agreed to date the man’s daughter. Maybe that sounded cruel, but he knew the intentions from the get go. The man was using his conventionally pretty, high society daughter to try and sweeten the deal- but he knew the true motivation. An attempt to get him into the family and continue having control of the company through his daughter’s supposed relationship with him. If only he had been smarter, if he had done more research. He would know he was sending a sacrificial lamb right into Harry’s awaiting lion jaws. 

See, she had been no stranger to him. Katherine had been after him for quite a while. They were acquainted to a certain degree, running in similar circles and society dinners. The crush, more so the obsession she had with Harry had been no secret to anyone. She claimed to have been in love with him, but Harry knew what it truly was. A lust for money. An infatuation with the power he could secure her. She loved what Harry could represent for her, not only to secure place in the society she had been thrown into as she grew up- but to elevate it. She knew the score, knew what Harry’s ring could mean. 

Katherine knew nothing of his true personality, his likes, his dislikes, his jokes. All of those things were reserved for the tiniest selection of people that she only knew of in passing. His real friends barely touched that superficial, vapid, bitter world. Katherine’s family was new money, looking to secure their place in society. Harry’s wealth went in decades, and it would most likely stay that way. Her vying for his attention didn’t shock him in the slightest. 

The condition of dating Katherine for at least a year had been one he had wanted to scoff at, one he had wanted to tell Mr. Eugene Brant that it would be obvious what it was, but he was smart enough to bite his tongue and agree. Playing stupid was a superpower, letting him think he got one over on Harry and vastly overestimating his daughter’s appeal. One year of being toted around with her overly big smile and his signature scowl on his face hadn’t been an issue. It was something he would merely go through the motions of until the exact year was up and she would be out of his life. 

At least, it hadn’t been until he met Y/N. 

The first woman who had ever captured his heart and soul. Softened the edges of his razor sharp glare.

She hadn’t wanted to give him the time of day once she realized he had been flirting whilst not single. She hadn’t known the deceptive relationship and it hadn’t been her fault, but that didn’t mean Harry was going to leave well enough alone. Even after she had dumped her  Shirley temple on his brand new pure cotton button up. 

If anything, it made him want her more. 

One thing about Harry? He was going to get what he wanted. He would bet anything on it. He was patient, stubborn, and fixated. Checking guest lists to see if she’d be in attendance to parties, see if she was going to hang out with his friend group, he was on the prowl to get her to talk again. 

She had blocked his number already- he didn’t really have a chance to explain. He understood why, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. 

When he finally did have the shot to tell her the relationship was a hoax, she was still doubtful. Dubious looks sent his way as he had pulled them into a private room of the club they were at- one his father owned, funnily enough- his hand holding hers as he sat beside her to plead his case. He was strong and defiant, insisting that it was a means to an end and there was no clause saying he couldn’t date other people- but he would like to get to know her on a real level. 

Against her better judgment, Y/N had fallen for the soft green eyes, the soft looking lips with the sharp cupid's bow and his even sharper tongue. Giving him one date was all he needed to get her on board. 

Fidelity wasn’t a term in the contract he had signed. Stupid, stupid mistake on Brant’s part. A new money, no lawyer to look over, a hasty mistake that would most definitely come to bite him in the ass. Harry hadn’t honored fidelity in the slightest even before he met Y/N. Sex was an outlet for him, as was the gym, things that were pleasurable and stress relieving. He’d only slept with Katherine a handful of times, tapering that off when he saw it made her get more and more attached. She had obviously known Harry had a reputation and while the sex had been alright, there hadn’t been much to his benefit besides the fact that she swallowed his load. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find willing participants. 

Sex with Y/N had completely rocked his world. He thinks, in part, it was because they had a real connection. She made him wait, she made him work his way up to that if he wanted- and made him stop sex with anyone else. As if he had any interest in anyone else. Y/N had taken up the majority of his brain that wasn’t filled with revenue and contracts and contacts and emails. She was his escape. 

The first time they had sex, Harry had fallen for her. There was no question in his mind. Despite being positive that he wouldn’t ever marry for love, Y/N had him questioning that. She had flipped his entire world view upside down, made him weak in the knees. 

Y/N wasn’t in the public eye. Her family had some elite ties, but she was friends with a lot of the quietly wealthy people who didn’t feel the need to showcase it to everyone who looked with tacky labels and monograms. She’d gotten into one of the best schools, gotten her degree and continued her friendship with her roommates and best friends- who just happened to be the girlfriends of some of his best mates. The real ones. There were only a few single members of the groups, and Y/N had been the new blood that had people wondering. Harry had been interested immediately. 

It was about 4 months into their relationship and everything still felt fantastic. Y/N knew more about Harry than anyone else ever could. She was the one with the key to the future, even if she didn’t know the exact depths his feelings went to. 

“I don’t want to go.” His lips parted from hers. “I want to stay here… want to stay buried inside of you, want to feed you your chocolate and lick it from your tongue.” Inhaling his words, she moaned as his hips rolled and he found his home back at her most sensitive spot. He had spent hours finding it, claiming it, and he knew it was his. “Spent all week working… I just want my sweet Angel.”

Noses brushed against one another, Y/N’s bleary eyes opening up to look at his own. Hazy, dark green, hooded. She gently dragged her nails over his shoulder blades, arching up into him and pressed a bit harder on the skin to make him moan in surprise. “You have me, Harry.” She whispered. “You have me now. Leave with my traces on your cock… then come back and take more. We leave tomorrow… and you can hold me how you like. Kiss me. Our friends don’t care. They’ll keep our secret.” Even if it was forbidden, their tight knit group knew exactly what the relationship between Harry and Katherine really was- and none really liked her. They knew Y/N made him happy, softened him up, they’d all been rooting for this. Their safe space. The only ones who knew. 

“She won’t ever have me.” He reassured. “I’m yours. I want your marks on me.” Breathing harder, his thrusts getting a bit more deep. “Make me bleed. C’mon, my sweet girl. Paid for those nails… give me what I want.” Her cunt quivered around his prick, making him smile. She pretended not to like that sort of thing, but she got them done specifically for this. To quench his thirst for pain, for marks. They loved it. “She’ll never have me like this. I’m yours.” He whimpered, the freak of the bed and their noises filling the room. “M’yours, baby. My sweet Angel… stay in my bed and wait for me. I’ll give you everything. Just wait for me.” 

She would. She would wait for him, to be his fully, as long as it took.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

alright, i finally finished Dragon Age the Veilguard.

tldr; 3/10. I didn't like it.

If you enjoyed the game and would rather keep enjoying it, please don't click the read more section as what follows is rather critical.

I can finally sit down with my thoughts and put them together in a more cohesive structured review, touching on most things that I wanted to address. I'll start with positives and then focus on the negatives.

Warning, this is VERY long.

Overall, I had a neutral to negative impression of DatV, which got worse by the end of the game. It had some good moments, but they were entirely unexplored and underutilized, suffering from bad writing. While the game itself is rather pretty, it didn't outweigh the dialogues, the stories and the lore butchering that took place.

1. Environment and visuals. 8/10.

I think Veilguard is a very beautiful game. I enjoyed exploring the corners of this new world, the little bits of environment design and storytelling that it had. It felt magical, certain locations were mesmerizing! I couldn't stop staring at the valley where you go to with Harding, the carcass of a titan.

2. Combat. 9/10.

I love flashy combat, I enjoy hack and slash, so until the very end of the game I was having most fun in combat. Yes there was repetitiveness but I tried to combat (hehe) it with changing my abilities and weapons every now and then. I liked combos and I liked timed parries. Enemy tactics got a bit boring by the end, but a few enemies still surprised me and challenged me.

.... That's where positives end. Now on to the negatives.

1. Characters. 2/10.

I don't understand what happened. Almost all the characters in this game were tuned down to a two-dimensional personality, "good" and "bad" - and absolutely no nuance. This happened not only to the villains, but to the different NPCs and even our companions. Their interests got narrowed down to single points of interest (Lucanis and coffee being a prime example to me), their motivations got watered down.

This is not what I expect from a Bioware game. I want to be challenged, I want to dislike characters or approve of their choices. I like characters who are messy and complex and don't always have their shit together.

I like villains who may have other reasons for their choices, other than "ba ha ha, I am so evil and I will do evil things". Where is Alexius who sold himself to the Elder one, just so he could save his beloved son? Where is Samson, forsaken by the Chantry and turned to red lyrium with his addiction? Where is Calpernia, misguided in her choices, just to free the slaves of Tevinter?

Where are the slaves of Tevinter anyway?? That's another topic.

2. Rook. 4/10.

On one hand, I liked playing Rook. They were stoic but with a humorous side, ready to get the job done, compassionate to other people.

The problem is that it's the only Rook you can really play. The protagonist is set in their ways and their dialogues and there is very little to roleplay. Rook really does feel like a gentle manager, trying to get everyone to play along nicely, while providing therapy every now and then, and is excluded from the majority of friendly interactions with other people. That awkward glance everyone gives you after their banter is embarrassing. The way you can third wheel people, the way the game actively offers you to leave a couple of animated conversations between other people - why even include those? Why not make Rook a part of the 'team'?

I did like Rook's dynamic with Solas. They got to see a different side of him, one that's not presented heavily in Inquisition. But like everything else, it felt surface level and underexplored.

3. Story arc. 2/10.

I am left unsatisfied with the story. The pacing threw me off so much nearly every quest, it was hard to stay on track. From "we need to solve this NOW" to "actually, let's all slow down and deal with our problems", the plot's priorities were all over the place. We kept hearing about the gods and their destructive oppression, but we saw surprisingly little of it. Yes, there was the Blight, yes there were Venatori and the Antaam, but they felt more like a video game fodder and dressing rather than a part of the story.

Not to mention that all of those things made little sense to me. Why would the gods align with aforementioned factions? Why would the aforementioned factions align with the elven gods? In-game explanation was not enough for me, it did not make sense. Not with the established lore in the previous games.

I also did not enjoy the ending. While the idea of Solas binding himself to the Veil is good and does make sense, what was suggested as the good ending (inviting Mythal to deal with Solas essentially) actually left me feeling awful. I sent a man, full of regrets and self-loathing, on a lonely journey to figure himself out. That... did not sit right with me at all. Neither did the fact that Northern Thedas, supposedly the point of the gods' attack, gets to live and flourish, while Southern Thedas is dying of starvation and blight. That is UNHINGED to me.

4. Music. 1/10.

There was no music. I remember one track. It was not memorable whatsoever and I can't believe they hired Hans Zimmer to do exactly nothing. Just wow.

5. Lore. ???/10.

And here is the worst offender. What was done with Dragon Age lore is unacceptable. I was doing a head-in-hands every five minutes. This was a slap in the face of so many fans who enjoyed the three prior games and delved into deep, interesting lore of various races, countries, cultures and religions. Veilguard showed a big middle finger to all that.

Everyone has already touched upon the sanitization of different factions. From the suddenly slaveless Tevinter to found family Antivan Crows, everything has been scrubbed clean and made sweet and palatable and "good".

The Dalish clans have been removed from existence as we know them. The Antaam left the Qun? Don't even get me started on that. The Chantry has no influence in this game? Really? The Chantry? The biggest religion in Thedas? The one that we know has heavy presence in the Anderfels, the Black Divine in Tevinter? That Chantry?

I think it really hit me how disrespectful the game is during the quest of saving the Dalish elves, where apparently Elgar'nan's Venatori, uplifted to be his servants and chosen people, were trying to sacrifice them. It's a gross and oddly telling idea that the ancient Elven god turned to a faction of racist mages to sacrifice elven people. I actually can't believe I'm writing this. Just how much are you going to shaft these people? Mindboggling.

There is a lot more I have to say on this specific topic, and I probably will later, but the idea is this.

6. Romances. 2/10.

Whoever said this is a game with romance lied so hard. So hard. The romance was atrocious. From the badly written flirting to the lack of romantic scenes (I romanced Davrin), to the poorly timed and awkward 'final' romance moment... It was atrocious. I felt no connection between Rook and Davrin beyond what game was telling me. My actual companions got more screen time with their romances than me and my LI.

Damn, even Evka and Antoine, my single most beloved NPCs in this game, had more romance going on that my Rook.

---

All in all, Veilguard was a massive let down. After having enjoyed the first 3 games many times over, with multiple playthroughs, I was so excited to see how the story of the Inquisition, of the elves, would end. When I saw the first trailer for VG, I knew I would never get to see it. When I played the game, I was left with disappointment and disdain.

I'm glad there are people who enjoyed this game, genuinely. I'm sure there's something to find for anyone, but it was not for me. Nor was it for many other people. It was a let down. I feel like I'll never get the conclusion I wanted - so I'll have to write my own I guess.

I have more thoughts on this game that I might be sharing, but for now this is the review I wanted to write. Thanks for reading!

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

AAAH UR REQUESTS ARE OPEN ?!?!?

Could I possibly ask for a Leona x trans man reader?

Some dysphoria hurt/comfort for the soul, reader overhears someone being transphobic after a bad day and spirals, Leona helps him out :)

I can't say I'm super knowledgeable on the topic of being transgender, but I'll try my best to depict it well! If anything is inaccurate or offensive please tell me so I can fix it! <3

Synopsis: Leona comforts trans male reader after they overhear another student making a nasty comment when they were already having a bad day.

TW: transphobia (I try to keep it light); Leona tells reader to strip (not in that way, ya nasties (thought about it tho)); deep talk; ooc Leona?; Leona calls reader a "bott-" but gets elbowed before he can finish (I wonder what he was trying to say 🤔)

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Trans Male Reader

Some days really do just suck, and today was one of those days. You had woken up late this morning and forgotten your bag in your rush to get ready. When you did get the chance to go get your bag during lunch it had been raining and nobody had an umbrella you could borrow so you had to run back to the dorm in the pouring rain. Once there you found out that your bag had been set right under a leak in the roof and had gotten completely soaked, ruining an assignment that was due today in the process. You had to walk umbrellaless on the way back as well because, as it turns out, your umbrella was actually in your locker. And, of course, to make things worse, you got after-school detention because of your ruined assignment. Even if Trein offered to still give you full points if you could finish the assignment that evening because he knew it wasn't your fault, it still sucked. By the time the day was over, you were still damp and entirely peeved.

You were standing under the awning outside the main doors to the school: staring at your broken umbrella and remembering why it was that you left it in your locker, but too tired to get any more upset, when you heard it.

A couple of students that were walking by were not-so-silently whispering to each other. What were they snickering about? Well, because your uniform shirt was wet you could see your binder. However, that was just what seemed to start them. After the binder comments they moved on to talk about how you'd never be a real man and make other comments that were entirely unoriginal.

Yet, no matter how many times you hear those words, they're still hurtful, and, after the day you'd had, that was all it took to push you over the edge. You walked out into the rain, trashed umbrella in your hand hanging at your side, and trudged through the flooded walkways (because of course the drains were clogged) and cried. The rain disguised your tears as you exhaustedly made your way to Ramshackle: mentally preparing yourself for the state it would be in from the rain.

Soaking wet, you make it to the last stretch to your dorm when CRACK! A branch fell a few yards in front of you: completely blocking your path home.

Before you knew it, you collapsed to the ground. You sat there crying for what felt like hours before finally tiredly standing up and stumbling to the botanical gardens. At least you would be able to take shelter there.

The door swung open with so much force you thought it would fly off the hinges or shatter when it hit the wall due to the wind that had picked up substantially since you started toward the glass structure. Luckily, neither happened and you somehow managed get the door shut behind you.

The gardens were dark, lit only by solar lights stuck into the ground on the edges of the paths and a few hanging lanterns. The structure creaked and moaned all around you and the wind and rain pelted it violently. You weren't sure where you were going, but you trudged further into the gardens with a gait that could only be described as zombie-like.

It was only when you reached a large tree near the back end of the gardens that you finally collapsed. With your back against the trunk, you pulled your knees to your chest and let your face fall into them. You were too tired to cry, but you weren't too tired to think. And think you did.

You only realized you'd been muttering to yourself the whole time when the bushes next to you started rusting and a pretty peeved looking Leona stepped out.

"What dorm?"

"Huh?"

"I'm asking you what dorm those *sshats were from." Leona sighed as he squatted in front of you.

"I di-"

"And don't say you didn't see"

". . ."

Leona sighed once again but didn't push you further. Instead, he sat in front of you and untied his uniform jacket from his waist. "Strip"

"WHAT?!" You suddenly bolted up and shrieked so loud the thunder was put to shame.

"Sevens, Herbivore! Stop screamin'! You'll get sick if you stay in those soaked clothes." Leona's ears are flat against his head as he speaks. "You can wear this. It should cover ya enough" He extends his uniform jacket to you looking away from you.

He realizes you're hesitating and drops the jacket on the ground in front of you before turning away from you fully. A deep sigh escapes his lips once more "Look, bein' a man ain't about lookin a certain way. I. . .I know it probably sucks lookin' at your body and seein'. . .well. . .not what ya want to, but I know that I for one don't see you as any less because of it. . .Bein' a real man, a good man, means being a good person. As far as I'm concerned, you've got that covered."

There's a few moment of silence before he hears the rustling of clothes. After a few moments of silence again he figures you're done and goes to turn around only to be stopped by you launching yourself at his back and holding him in place.

He seems to understand without having to ask and readjusts to once more sit facing away from you. Your arms slowly release from around his waist as you hesitantly sit with your back pressed to his.

"I'm sorry," your quiet voice speaks up from behind him "I just. . .I don't want you seeing me like this."

A gruff huff reverberates through his chest but it's not out of frustration; rather, it's out of understanding. "Like what? Looking like a bott-"

A swift elbow back shuts him up pretty quick. "No! Looking. . .well. . .feminine"

"Whatcha mean feminine? You're wearing the manliest guy in school's jacket. Ya sayin' I'd look girly if I wore it?"

You take note of Leona's wording and a hint of appreciation blooms in your chest. You know Leona isn't trying to say looking "girly" is bad despite how it may sound to someone listening in. He's trying to give you an affirmation that you can believe you look how you want. And, at the same time, he's not asking you "what's wrong with looking feminine" as so many others have in the past. He understands the state of mind you must be in right now and that it's not that you think feminine is bad, but, rather, that you need to feel secure in your identity.

"No." a soft, breathy laugh leaves your throat at the absurdity of, in your mind, the thought of Leona Kingscholar ever being perceived as "girly" is.

"Then why would it make you look like a woman?"

"Because it's swallowing me and I'm wearing it like a dress? Not to mention, . . .my thighs and most of my chest are visible. And they don't exactly scream 'man.'

Leona sighs at your words but it doesn't sound impatient or fed up. "You always tell Epel he looks manly and he has a pretty similar build to you. You need to stop using such wildly different standards for yourself."

"Leona-"

"I know, I know. That's not something you can change just by me saying it, but you need to practice to make it a mindset you can in."

You're silent. You neither agree nor protest.

"Next time ya think ya look girly or whatever, imagine me with whatever it is that makes ya feel that way."

"Huh?"

"I'm a pretty 'manly' guy, aren't I? Would I still look like a dude even if I had plush thighs, tits, or wore an oversized shirt?"

"Well. . .not exactly. But your face-"

"Nope. If I could still pass as a man with those features then so will you. I'm not saying to believe that or stop thinking negatively right this moment. Work on it."

The space falls silent of your talking, the only sound being that of the wind and rain pelting the building.

"Leona. Do you see me as a man?"

"I already told you my standards for a man, but even if we're goin' off the ones old hacks use, you got the majority. You're determined, respectful, humble, aren't bound by what other herbivores think you have to be, and you're capable."

"Then why don't I feel like it."

Leona sighs once more "I can't say, but to me it seems that at least part of it is because you don't like yourself enough."

"Of course I don't like myself, Leona" it's your turn to sigh.

"Yeah, and if ya wanna be who ya wanna be some day, ya gotta give yourself the space to."

". . .Since when did you talk so much, let alone about such deep stuff."

"Wanna see how far I can throw you?"

You sit like that for a while in silence: backs pressed against each other's in the grass.

You're the one who breaks the silence: "Leona?"

"What is it now, Herbivore."

"You can turn around"

"Eh?"

"I know I said I didn't want you seeing me like this: didn't want you seeing me the way I see me, but. . .I think I want to see me the way you see me."

Leona huffs but turns around just enough to look at you with his signature smug grin "So, are we racing to see who can influence the other first?"

"I. . .I guess so."

"Great, but I'll have you know: I don't lose."

"What about that time at the spelld-"

"Herbivore" he cuts you off "My non violence policy only extends to woman and children. You aren't either. Watch it."

That elicits a genuine laugh from you.

Within the week news comes in that the boys who had walked by and made nasty comments about you were suspended for 2 weeks. You never told Leona who it was. . ..

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Furiously Passionate – Jake Seresin

Jake's POV

When I first walked into the coffee shop down the street from base, I never expected to run into my childhood friend, Y/N. As little kids, we were inseparable. Well, that's putting it lightly.

The honest truth is that I followed Y/N everywhere. I was overly protective of her and was always there when she needed me. Even if she didn't need me, I was there.

Her first choir performance, I was in the crowd.

Her first spelling bee, I was in the audience.

Her first boyfriend, I was ready to tell her he wasn't good enough.

Her first heartbreak, I held her as she cried (after I beat the shit out of the guy).

When I joined the Navy, Y/N was terrified. She was so worried that something would happen to me and I wouldn't return to her. The night before I left for training, we fell asleep with tears streaming down our faces.

Two years went by. Two years of hand-written letters. Two years of emails. Two years of phone calls. Two years of making sure we never lost contact.

When I walked into the coffee shop and saw Y/N behind the counter making coffee, I almost jumped over the counter and wrapped my arms around her. I didn't have to, because she did.

She jumped over the counter and instantly took her break. We spent the entire time standing outside and talking. She eventually went back to work after I got her to promise to meet up that night. We started off the night by ordering dinner and talking. We ended the night with me leaving the next morning.

That was six months ago. Ever since we started going out, I go to her apartment as soon as we finish training. I only go out with my friends one night a week—the rest I spend with Y/N.

"What time are you done with training tonight?" Y/N asked me over the phone as I started walking into base.

"Not sure, baby," I sighed. "We're getting closer to the mission, so our sessions are getting a little more intense."

I waited for her to respond, but she didn't. "What's wrong, gorgeous?"

"It's nothing," she lied.

"Y/N," I elongated her name. "Tell me. What's on your mind?"

"It's just. . ." My heart felt tight when she sighed. "I kind of don't really want you to go on your upcoming mission."

"What?"

"See?" She said, her voice breaking. "I sound like a horrible and unsupportive girlfriend."

"You're not," I instantly corrected.

"I don't mean to be," she said, ignoring my earlier comment. "I'm just worried. Your mission could end badly. I could. . ."

"You're not going to lose me," I said before she could start to panic. "I promise, Y/N. I will be smart. I will make sure I make it home to you."

"I know," she whispered. "That doesn't mean I'm not scared."

I sighed, wishing there was something I could say to make her feel better. The thing was, she was right. She's right to be scared. I can promise all I want, but things can still go badly.

"Listen," I said gently, "you mean the world to me. I will do everything I can to make it back to you. As for tonight, I will order Chinese on my way over. Try and stay up for me?"

"Of course," she giggled, her tone of voice instantly shifting. I held back my sigh of relief.

"Great," I smiled. "I'll see you tonight."

I hung up the phone, noticing my friends studying me.

"Who was that?" Phoenix asked with a knowing smirk on her face.

"No one," I instinctively responded.

"Someone you're meeting tonight," Coyote laughed. "Hot date?"

"It's just. . ." I stuttered.

"Come on, Hangman," Payback pushed. "You walked in here, your phone glued to your ear, and smiling like an idiot. Fess up. Who's got you acting like an idiot?"

"Y/N," I said, clearing my throat as I put my phone in my pocket. I looked around to see them all smirking at me.

"And who's this Y/N?" Rooster asked. I struggled to control my anger caused by the way he said her name.

"My girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" Bob stuttered. "You actually. . . You have a girlfriend?"

"I do," I shrugged.

"Where did you meet a girl lonely enough to fall for you?" Fanboy scoffed.

"She works at the coffee shop near base," I shortly explained. "But we've known each other since we were kids. When I ran into her again, I asked her out."

"So," Coyote elongated, "when are we going to meet this girl of yours?"

"Yeah," Payback laughed. "I gotta meet the poor girl that puts up with our Hangman."

"I half expected our Hangman to leave her hanging after a drunken night," Payback laughed.

"I'd never leave her," I said through my teeth, shocking everyone.

"You really like her, don't you?" Phoenix said, her voice softening.

"I've known her forever," I said, sounding slightly offended. "We grew up together."

"When you'd finally hook up?" Payback asked. I had to grip my hands into fists to control my anger.

"Six months ago," I said, my jaw slightly tighter than normal. "I hadn't seen her in almost three years, but I ran into her six months ago."

"That's great," Phoenix smiled. "You should bring her by the bar sometime. We'd love to meet her."

To be honest, I'd never thought about introducing Y/N to my flight squad. I always separated my life in the Navy and my life with Y/N. Not because I was ashamed of her. I kept her separate to keep her safe.

* * * * *

"Jake," Y/N gasped when I wrapped my arms around her the second she turned. "What are you doing here?"

"Navy pilots need coffee too," I teased her. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. I broke the kiss and smirked down at her. I grabbed the rag she was using to wipe down the tables and tossed it into the counter as I asked, "Any chance you can take a break?"

She looked at her watch and smirked at me. "What do you know?" She asked sarcastically. "It just so happens to be my break."

I laughed as she took off her apron, tossed it onto the counter. I grabbed her hand and led her out of the coffee shop. Without saying anything, we started walking down the street. We took a few turns before arriving at the nearest beach.

"Okay," Y/N sighed, "what's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" I tried to laugh it off. Y/N stopped walking, pulling me with her.

"We've been dating for six months," she started, "but I've known you all my life. You call me at work, text me in between flights, but you don't randomly pop by without telling me. So, I ask again: what's going on?"

"My friends know about you," I confessed, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it any longer. Y/N always knew.

"Oh," she said, her voice dropping.

"They really want to meet you," I continued hesitantly. I gently grabbed both of her hands as I continued, "Part of me thinks it's because they don't believe you're real. They want to see if you're out of my league. Or they want to see what kind of girl I can convince to actually go out with me."

"I don't know," Y/N stuttered, looking at our intertwined hands.

"Please, baby," I begged. "I really want my friends to meet you."

"What if they don't like me?" She asked, her voice dropping. I took a step closer to her, putting myself inches from her.

"They are going to love you because you are an amazing girl," I tried to reassure her.

"What if they don't think I'm good enough for you?"

My heart sank. "They have no reason to think that," I said softly. "You are more than enough for me, baby."

She paused as she studied me and nervously chewed on her bottom lip. I reached up and gently used my thumb to untuck her lip from her teeth.

"You really want me to meet your friends, don't you?"

"I do," I said honestly. "But only if you're comfortable meeting them."

"I guess I am," she shrugged. She smiled before adding, "As long as you promise not to leave me alone with them."

I leaned in and dropped my voice as I said, "I wouldn't leave you even if they paid me."

* * * * *

Later that night, I took Y/N to the Navy bar. She was really nervous, but as time went on (and drinks were drunk), my friends started to show her that they weren't anything to be afraid of. Towards the end of the night, we were the only semi-sober ones.

I pulled Y/N off to the side so we could have a moment alone. I wrapped my arms around her and "helped" her throw the darts. When she hit the bullseye, she giggled and jumped up and down. I had the biggest smile on my face until I looked over my shoulder to see Rooster watching us a little too closely.

I forced myself not to think about it the rest of the night. Instead, I focused on making sure Y/N was having fun. The entire drive back to my apartment, Y/N was buzzing. She was super happy about how the night went and went back through everything we did. She fell asleep in my arms with the biggest smile on her face.

She was still buzzing about it the next morning. I kissed her goodbye and headed to base. As soon as I walked in, everyone sent me smirks. They kept telling me that they liked Y/N and thought she and I were a good match. Everything was fine.

Until Rooster. . .

"I gotta be honest," Rooster smirked. "Y/N's not exactly the kind of girl I expected you'd bring around. I mean, by the way you talked about her, I figured she'd be a bit more. . . more."

Before I knew it, I was charging Rooster.

I let my anger take over. So much so, I wouldn't have stopped if it wasn't for the team.

"Y/N is the most gorgeous girl in the world," I yelled as Payback and Fanboy pulled me off Rooster. "I'm lucky a girl like her would go out with me."

"Both of you," Phoenix snapped, "calm down."

I tore my hands out of their holds and stormed off before my anger could take over again.

* * * * *

My anger was suffocating. I was about to leave base, struggling to calm myself down, but forced myself to stay. I walked into the pilot's room, relieved when no one was there. I sat on the couch and grabbed my phone. My screensaver stopped me.

It was a picture of Y/N and me on our first official date six months ago. It was my favorite picture of us. It was the only one where I looked truly happy.

I wanted to call her and tell her about Rooster, but I didn't want to worry her. She thought last night went so well. I don't want to make her doubt that. I looked up when someone knocked on the doorframe.

"I'm not apologizing," I said when I saw Rooster leaning against the doorway.

"That's not why I'm here," he chuckled as he kicked off the doorframe and walked in.

"What do you want?" I sighed.

"I wanted to talk to you about Y/N."

I scowled the second my Y/N's name left his lips. "Bradshaw," I warned, slowly standing up.

"How long have you been in love with Y/N?" He asked.

"All my life," I answered without having to think about it. "I've known her since I was a kid, and I've loved her more and more each day."

"Does she know that?"

"No," I sighed, looking away from him. "She doesn't."

"Why the hell not?" He asked, not sounding at all like he was teasing.

"I don't know," I stuttered. "We just barely started dating and. . ."

"You just said that you've been in love with her all your life," he said, taking a small step toward me. "It may have taken a while, but you finally got together. When you start dating someone you've known your entire life, you don't start at Level 1."

"What's the point of all this?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The point," Rooster said with a small smirk on his face, "is that it took you this long to finally get together. You really want to waste more time before telling her you love her?"

* * * * *

I walked into Y/N's apartment, a lot of emotions flooding my body. I hung my keys by the door and kicked off my shoes. I searched the apartment for her but finally found her asleep at the kitchen table. With a big smile on my face, I knelt beside her and gently woke her up.

"Y/N," I said softly, "baby, wake up."

She let out her sleepy moan as her eyes fluttered open. "Hey, you," she smiled. She slowly lifted her head and spent a moment looking around the room, still in a bit of a daze.

"You fall asleep while studying?" I asked, gesturing to the law books in front of her.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled. "Why do I want to be a family advocate?"

"Well," I chuckled, "according to you, you want to fight for children and make sure they get into good homes."

"Oh yeah," she sighed. She turned to me, and her eyes widened. She gasped as she quickly grabbed my face. "Jake! What happened to your face?"

I sighed when I realized that the punch I took from Rooster must have left a mark.

"It's nothing," I tried to soothe her.

"It doesn't look like nothing," she continued to worryingly stutter. "It looks like you got into a fight. Did you get into a fight?"

I reached up and gently pulled her hands away from my face. "I did get into a fight," I confessed, "but it was nothing. It was stupid guys being stupid guys."

I couldn't help but smile when she pouted. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off by pulling her in and pressing my lips to hers. It took her half a second to start kissing me back.

"I love you, Y/N," I whispered, breaking the kiss. She leaned back and studied me with wide eyes.

"You. . . You what?"

"I love you," I repeated. "I have loved you since we were little. I have loved you every day of our lives. I was just too afraid to tell you."

"Why?" She asked, catching me slightly off-guard.

"I didn't know how you felt about me," I confessed slowly. "And I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You were, and still are, the most important person in my life. I couldn't risk losing you if I was wrong."

"You're not," she said quickly.

"I'm not?"

"You're not," she smiled, "because I love you, too."

She gasped when I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her in, and pressed my lips to hers. I felt her giggle against my lips as I slightly picked her up.

We broke the kiss when neither one of us could breathe. We were still in each other's arms as we smiled too widely at each other. I reached up and moved some hair out of her face.

"I love you, Y/N," I whispered. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life with you, taking care of you. I will always be safe, so I can come home to you. I will always come running when you call for me. I will always be there when you need me. I will always love you."

Y/N smiled at me with soft tears in her eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted," she whispered. "You taking care of me. You being there for me. All I've ever wanted was you."