#just throwing that out there because other tags are giving me trouble

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 1

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other?

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 1 Tsumsitters (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

The beginning of the Riddle's part is the same as in the request, but I added a little bit more scenario after that.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 2 (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

Yuutsum 3 (after going to the English server)

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With your Tsum in your arms, you find Ace and Deuce, leaning over with their hands on their knees as if they were catching their breath after a run. They look at you first, but quickly the cute little creature you hold in your arms catches their attention. They both have that look on their faces like they think it's the cutest and most beautiful little thing in the world but don't want to admit it.

They say that Riddle also has one of those and it was the one they were chasing and trying to catch, but they lost it. The moment they said Riddle’s name, you felt your Tsum move enthusiastically for a moment.

They hear something, when they look they see Riddle-tsum in the distance and run towards it, starting the chase again. Your Tsum jumps out of your arms and runs with them, which makes you run after them too.

Your Tsum passes Ace and Deuce, which surprises them because they were so fast, and throws itself at Riddle-tsum, rolling together for a few seconds until they both stop. When this happened, Riddle-tsum didn't run away again, and the two were rubbing each other's cheeks happily.

Ace grabbed Riddle-tsum while it was distracted. It seemed upset about being caught. But the moment Deuce grabbed your Tsum that upsetness turn into anger. Riddle-tsum jumped out of Ace's arms, hits him in the face and threw itself right in Deuce's face to make him release your Tsum. Once back on the ground, Riddle-tsum positioned itself between your Tsum and those two, glaring threateningly at Ace and Deuce.

Once again, it doesn't run away. You finally get close to them and approach the tsums. When Riddle-tsum sees you it relaxes again and looks at you with admiration. As if looking at a royalty.

Ace and Deuce suggest that you try taking them both to Heartslabyul, as Riddle-tsum doesn't seem to like either of them. They were small enough for you to be able to carry them both in your arms without any problems.

You take them both in your arms and Riddle-tsum immediately turns red. It looked like a tomato in white clothes, and it writhed as if it wanted to hide in your arms in embarrassment. When you arrive at Heartslabyul, Riddle-tsum's blush had already subsided.

“Ah, prefect.” Riddle says when he sees you, Ace and Deuce arriving. “I see you were the one who managed to catch...” He looks at your arms to see his tsum, but his gaze automatically goes to your tsum instead. “Oh, there is one similar to you too. It looks... as charming as you.” he blushes just a little.

After explaining how you three caught Riddle-tsum, Ace suggests that they leave you and your Tsum with Riddle-tsum to prevent it from escaping again or causing trouble. Or hurt someone else. Riddle hesitates at first, as he is the one responsible for taking care of his tsum, but soon after, Riddle-tsum hits a student for breaking some rule and Riddle starts arguing with it so he stops attacking others.

You place a hand on Riddle's shoulder to try to calm him down a little and at that moment both of your attention went to your tsums. Your Tsum was between you and Riddle-tsum.

“You know, they remind me of the hedgehogs in a way.” Riddle says “And now they are reminding me of when they come closer to smell each other or to rub each other's noses. I can't deny that I find it quite cute whenever they do it.”

And then your Tsum starts rubbing its little round nose against Riddle-tsum's and caressing it to calm it down. And it works. It returns the affection by staying very close to your Tsum.

Riddle blushes a little again, and says that, reconsidering Ace's suggestion and if you want, you could take care of your tsums together.

You were walking with your Tsum in your arms when you saw Cater and his Tsum on Main Street. Cater-tsum seemed to be curled defensively around something Cater was trying to retrieve.

“Look, you can't have it, okay?!” You hear Carter say to his Tsum as you get close to them.

You greet him by asking what they are doing. Cater gives you a quick glance before turning his attention back to Cater-tsum, as if he's afraid that if he looks away it'll escape.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan! I'm trying to get my-” He quickly looks back at you, more specifically at the adorable little thing you have in your arms. “Oh!... My!... Great Seven!” He turns his body towards you, his gaze so fixed on your Tsum that he doesn't even blink. “YOU HAVE A TSUMMY TOO! And it's the most adorable little thing I've ever seen in my life!”

Suddenly you both got jumpscared as something jumps towards you. It was Cater-tsum jumping into your arms! Despite the scare, you manage to catch it and it starts to nestle into your arms and cuddle your Tsum. Cater looks at the floor where Tsum was and sees his cell phone left behind. He retrieves it.

“We HAVE to take a pic of them!” Cater says excitedly “No! We have to do a whole photoshoot! Here! It's a great place to start.”

If you like taking pictures, your Tsum will be very excited. If you are shy, your Tsum will turn around to hide its face in your arms.

“Awwwww~ That’s even more adorable! Pwease! I beg you~" He says to your Tsum. Cater-tsum will also make pleading eyes at your Tsum.

The four of you spend a lot of time taking pictures in different places. Both pictures of the Tsums and of you with Cater. Until Cater and his Tsum have enough pictures to finally let you and your Tsum rest.

You sit on a bench, you with your Tsum on your lap and Cater with his Tsum on his lap, both of them editing photos on his cell phone. However, you feel your Tsum move and leave your lap to headbutt Cater's hand that was holding the cell phone, making it fall against his belly. After that, your tsum just stands there looking at Cater-tsum with a slightly annoyed look. Cater-tsum smiles with its tiny eyes and jumps against your tsum so they can cuddle each other.

Cater looks at the Tsums protecting the cell phone against his chest, watches them for a moment and then looks at you.

“Hey, if you want to do the same, just need to ask, you know~?” Cater says and winks at you.

If you accept, he'll put an arm around your shoulders and edit the photos with you, while your two Tsums cuddle on your laps.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. Fortunately you don't need to walk far, as the botanical garden is one of the closest points to Ramshackle Dorm.

As soon as you enter, your tsum jumps out of your arms and starts jumping (its way of running) somewhere in the middle of some bushes. And you know that spot well. As soon as you stop seeing it, you hear a patient growl.

“Another one?” You hear Leona's voice. “Hey! What do you think you're doing?!” You follow the voice, pass through the bushes and see Leona lying down with two tsums on top of his torso. Your Tsum and Leona-tsum, cuddled up like two cats sleeping with each other.

“Herbivore, get your stuffie thing out of here and take the one that looks like me with you too. I'm not a nest to have two pesky armadillos sleeping on top of me!”

You kneel down next to him, looking at Leona-tsum with that “HE’S SO CUTE!” twinkle in your eyes. Leona-tsum looks at you and its sleepy eyes suddenly open, almost bulging. And it jumps onto your chest, knowing you would catch it.

“You got one.” Leona said. “Just one more to-” He interrupted himself, looking at his chest and seeing your tsum rising until it approached his face.

If you look at his face, you will see Leona's pupils dilating. And your tsum snuggling against his chest. You comment that you don't think your tsum will want to leave his side.

“Why don't you walk away with that one and see what happens? Maybe yours will follow.”

You are also curious to know what would happen. Leona-tsum was already sleeping in your arms.

You walk away with it, towards the exit of the botanical garden. Halfway there it wakes up and you feel it move in your arms. You stop and look at it. It seemed to have an annoyed look on its face, very similar to what Leona does when things aren't going according to his plans. You open your mouth to say or ask something, but it's Leona's voice that can be heard throughout the botanical garden.

“OI!” You hear Leona growl in annoyance. “Who do you think you are demanding anythin’ from me?!” And then you hear him roar.

You come back with Leona-tsum in your arms, and you find your tsum pulling one of Leona's braids towards you as if it wanted to force him to come to you.

“This thing really takes after you.” he comments, in a tone reminiscent of a father irritated with a child he deep down loves.

Leona-tsum jumps out of your arms and lazily approaches your tsum. Your tsum lets go of Leona's braid.

You both see Leona-tsum rubbing its cheek on your Tsum's cheek, and making a movement as if it was licking your Tsum's face. After calming your tsum down, the two of them curl up to sleep together.

“Well, at least they're not bothering me anymore.” Leona says. He closes his eyes, but right after, he opens one of them again to look at you. “If you're also going to stay here with your stuffie thing, at least be useful. This floor isn't the best pillow, you know?” He makes that gesture for you to come closer with his index finger.

And if you let him use your lap to lie down, he will fall asleep in 3 seconds, just like his Tsum did.

You were in the Ramshackle Dorm Lounge with your Tsum and Grim was in your bedroom, probably taking a nap after eating too much, when you hear someone knocking at the door. You go open the door, leaving your Tsum on the couch. You do it and see Jack.

“Hi (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, but this Tsum-” Before Jack could finish his sentence, you saw something near your feet come barreling through the door. You look back in time to see Jack-tsum turn to enter the Lounge. “Ah! Sorry. It won't sit still. Let's catch it before it does any damage.”

The two of you go to the lounge and stop right at the entrance. Jack-tsum was on the couch with your Tsum. Jack-tsum was jumping around your Tsum, its little tail wagging like crazy, and its eyes shining while also rubbing its face against your Tsum’s as if licking it. It was just like a puppy wanting to play.

“OI!” Jack shouted “Don't mess up (Y/N)'s couch!”

Jack-tsum sulked and your Tsum jumped from the couch to the floor. Jack-tsum followed it. Your Tsum approached Jack and smiled at him with its eyes, as if it were greeting him.

“Hum?” Jack’s ears pricked up as he looked down. “You also have a Tsum similar to you.” He didn't realize his tail had started wagging.

Jack-tsum followed your Tsum and you felt the need to bend down to see Jack-tsum up close. It looked at you with big bright eyes and its tail wagging wildly. You comment on how cute it is and reach out to pet it.

“Be careful.” Jack warns you “It doesn't let anyone...” You start to pet its head as it leans in your hand. “... touch it... What's the deal with this thing? Whenever anyone approached it would either move away or growl at them. How did you do that? I can't even catch it to take it to Savanaclaw.”

You say you don't know what you did either, if anything special. And you comment that it seems to like you. This makes Jack blush slightly.

“How would it not?” he says softly, and without meaning to. He clears his throat. “Um, do you mind if we stay here for a while? It seems to have finally settle down a bit.”

Your tsum goes to Jack-tsum's side and they both look at you as if begging you to say yes. You agree and the two Tsums bounce happily for a moment before they start running around the lounge together.

“OI! You two be careful!” Jack warns “Don't break or mess anything up, you hear?!”

You laugh and comment on how much you think Jack and his Tsum look alike.

“It's just the hair and the outfit.” he says a little embarrassed “Do I look round and soft?!”

“Round maybe not but soft...” You laugh and he blushes.

Before he could open his mouth to try to respond to that, the tsums started running towards you and ended up bump into you as they passed, which made you lose your balance. Jack catches you.

“What did I say?” he shouts to the tsums. He looks at you. "Are you okay?" in his arms, and he releases you, blushing a little. “Sorry about that.” he rubs the back of his neck. “It had never done this.”

“Maybe it was a bad influence.” you say and look at the Tsums. From the looks on their faces, especially your Tsum’s, it wasn't an accident.

You were walking down the Main Street with your Tsum in your arms when you hear footsteps running behind you, approaching quickly. You turn around in shock and see a very tall figure right in front of you. Then you realize it's Floyd.

“Boo~” Floyd smiles at you with something writhing violently in his arms. You look and see his Tsum trying to get free. You also notice, by the way he is holding Floyd-tsum, that he is using a lot of force. “Hi Koebi-chan~. Whatcha doin'~?” He sees something in your arms and looks to find your Tsum. “Woo! You have one too! And it looks so small and weak like you, how cute! He he.”

(What you don't know is that what really happened was that Floyd-tsum was loose and took off running when it saw you. The footsteps you heard were Floyd running to catch it before Floyd-tsum caught you first.)

Your Tsum made a sulky face, while Floyd-tsum continued to struggle in Floyd's arms. You say Floyd-tsum is also very cute, it stops and looks at you with smiling little eyes.

“Do you wanna play with it?” Floyd asks and you say yes. “Sure, but careful how you handle it. It’s easy to set this guy-” The moment he let his arms go slack for a second, Floyd-tsum jumped into your arms.

With difficulty, but you managed to catch it without letting your tsum fall. Now you had them both in your arms. You saw it squeezing your tsum while it snuggled into your arms. However, your tsum didn't seem uncomfortable, quite the opposite, it felt like a passionate everyday hug.

Between letting Floyd-tsum jump out of his arms, until realizing that it wouldn't hurt you, Floyd stared at his Tsum with that serious face that all students who know him the least bit fear.

“Aw~ Aren't they cute together?” he says with his usual relaxed expression. He sees that you are having difficulty holding both tsums. “Let them go. They can walk on their own. Or hop, I guess.”

You do so. The two Tsums land on the ground and Floyd-tsum jumps up to continue hugging your Tsum. But before it can, Floyd quickly picks up your Tsum in his arms and starts squeezing it too.

“MY TURN!” Floyd says to his Tsum.

This one sulks, looks at you and jumps back towards you. You catch it and it hugs your forearm. You and Floyd laugh, until the pressure in your arm starts to increase to the point where it starts to hurt. The moment you grimace, Floyd's expression changes, he lets go of your tsum and rips his off your arm.

“I warned you.” he says to his tsum, with the same face he uses to threaten students who don't pay Azul. “Someone is not keeping their side of the deal.”

Floyd-tsum manages to escape and hugs your tsum again, but without hurting it. Floyd looks at you, who looks slightly sad, and sees you rubbing the forearm that Tsum was squeezing. He holds your wrist to see better. There is a slight reddish mark. He lets go of your wrist, turns to the Tsums and lifts his foot as if to step on his tsum. Before you could stop him, your tsum does it, getting out of Floyd-tsum's embrace and positioning itself between it and Floyd's sole when he was about to hit his Tsum. He looks at your tsum's fearless face for a moment and laughs heartily.

“HA HA HA HA! It also takes after you, Koebi-chan~” He puts his foot back on the ground and turns back to you. “We were going to Mostro Lounge. Do you want to come?”

With your Tsum in your arms, you were walking down Main Street when you heard a scream. It sounded like someone was being attacked by a dog or something. You follow the sound and see Epel, another Pomefiore student, and an Epel-tsum attacking this student while Epel tries to stop it.

Your tsum jumps out of your arms and runs (or hops) towards them until it stops between Epel-tsum and the student, preventing the tsum from attacking him again. And then, your tsum headbutted Epel-tsum so hard that it even knocked it upside down for a moment. Enough time for Epel to catch it. The other student runs away and Epel-tsum begins to struggle in Epel's arms.

“Stop it!” Epel complained “Ya can't go aroun´ attackin´ students!”

You approach them asking if everything is okay and if he needs help. Epel-tsum stops and looks at you. You smile when you see that Epel also has a tsum and comment on how cute it is (like any tsum).

“No! Don't call it that!” The Tsum manages to jump out of Epel's arms and towards you.

He panics, but instead of the Tsum hitting you, it lands in your arms and just looks at you with a sulky face. You say it's still being cute, and once again, instead of it attacking you, its little face turns red with blush.

Epel freezes, completely confused for a moment until he thinks about what could be the possible reason for you being the only person who called the Tsum cute and it didn't attack. And when he thinks of the most likely reason, he also blushes.

Your tsum also jumped into Epel's arms, surprising him. It smiles at him with its cute little eyes and his blush deepens. Your voice is the only thing that makes Epel look away from your Tsum, asking if you could accompany him and his Tsum if they were going to Pomefiore.

In his dorm, needless to say, Rook wasted no time praising the Tsums, both Epel's and yours. But since Epel's Tsum didn't seem to appreciate the comments very much, especially if they focused on the fact that it was cute, Rook ended up turning his attention to your Tsum, which ended up bothering Epel's Tsum even more.

“It looks like someone is jaloux.” Rook says smiling amused.

That was the only thing that made Epel-tsum throw itself at him, to attack. Rook dodged it like a bullfighter with the grace of someone who was expecting it. Epel panicked and quickly picked up his tsum and apologized to Rook.

“There is no reason to apologize, Monsieur Pommette.” Rook says, loving the situation more than he should. “Truly. I must confess that my provocation was premeditated. C'est tellement beau to see your true feelings and emotions through your Tsum's lack of filter.”

��WHA-?! WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

Rook just laughs, winks at Epel and starts walking towards the door. Halfway there he passes you, leans over and whispers in your ear: “Could you tame the little beast for us, Trickster?” and leaves.

Epel's Tsum struggled in his arms, angry... with jealousy.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. You leave Ramshackle Dorm, pass the Botanical Garden and the Alchemy Workshop and arrive at the Hall of Mirrors.

As soon as you enter, your Tsum escapes from your arms and quickly jumps until it enters the mirror to Diasmonia. You follow it, but you realize that you lost sight of it the moment it passed through the mirror.

“Good afternoon, (Y/N)!” Lilia is the first to come and greet you. “To what do we owe such a wonderful surprise visit?”

You tell him about your tsum.

“Ah yes! Sebek also has a cute little lookalike. I can't wait to see yours. Although if it's as adorable or even more adorable than you, we're going to have a cuteness overdose problem in this dorm. Khe he. Well, from what I understand, and despite Sebek denying it, the personality of these tsums is very similar to the personality of those they physically resemble. So if your tsum wanted to come here, where do you think it would have gone? Where would you want to go?”

You don't think about a ‘where’ but rather a ‘who’ and that may have shown on your face, beacuse Lilia laughs amusedly.

“So maybe your tsum went to meet someone? Maybe a fellow tsum? Khe he he. I suggest we look for Malleus. Wherever he is, Sebek and Silver will be there too.”

The two of you head to the lounge, but before you get there you can already hear all the commotion. Aka: Sebek’s thunderous voice.

“Don't look at me like that! No matter who your looks resemble, you're bothering Malleus-sama and meddling in our, I mean my guard duties!”

“Actually,” You hear Malleus's patient voice say. “I am quite enjoying this little one's presence. It's as pleasant as (Y/N)'s own presence. Wouldn't you agree, Sebek?”

“HM?! Yes! Of course sir! Please forgive me for implying that this Tsum's presence was inconvenient.”

You and Lilia arrive at the lounge and approach those two. Sebek, as expected, was standing very straight next to Malleus, who was sitting in one of the sofas. Coming closer, you see that both your Tsum and Sebek's Tsum are in Malleus' lap. And Sebek-tsum looked like it was... about to cry?

“AWW~ Look at you.” Lilia said, your Tsum turned to him. “You are even cuter than I imagined. *sigh* What an unfair competition.”

The moment Sebek-tsum sees you is when it finally starts crying.

“HUM?! What is wrong with you?” Sebek inquires. “You are such a strange creature.”

“I think it's too much emotion to see so many people it likes together.” Lilia says with a smirk.

“W-Well, regardless, it should learn to control itself!”

You come closer, worried about Sebek-tsum, and ask if it would like a hug to feel better. It looks at you, then at Malleus, back at you, Malleus, you, Malleus, and on until it almost gets dizzy and the indecision seems to make it more sad.

“I think I have an idea.” Malleus says. “(Y/N), would you like to sit next to me?”

You sit down, he asks you to come closer until your thighs touch, so he can place Sebek-tsum on both of your laps at the same time. It, still in tears, seemed to be thanking Malleus with his eyes and head.

“How intelligent and generous, my liege!” Even Sebek himself had a tear in the corner of his eye.

He was about to continue his praise when your Tsum jumped from Malleus' lap into Sebek's hands. He caught it as if he was saving it from a fall. It looked at him and smiled with its eyes.

“How precious.” He said with a tender smile, as he was still emotional about Malleus's act. Then he realized what he had just said and blushed in embarrassment. But he didn't stop holding your Tsum.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) ▪ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with the homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always has a hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say it doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly every day during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for a reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who saved you

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

As book!Tom who grew up in an orphanage: he's secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

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[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT III

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: sorry for such a long break!! pls let me know what u think and again if you’d like to be added to the tag list send me a message or ask as I rarely check my notifs and go back to them. also sorry abt the cliffhanger uhmmmm also unedited ok bye

“You look like crap.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Mor scrunching up her face as she peers at you from her seat across your own at the dining table. It takes a second for her words to register and you throw a belated scowl her way.

“Good morning to you too,” you mumble, sitting up to continue swirling your spoon around your bowl of barely eaten oatmeal. Your appetite seems to have vanished over the past week, but you try and force a spoonful down your throat, nearly gagging.

Mor narrows her eyes at you and her lips press into a thin line of concern. “No, you seriously look like crap. You’re not eating lately and you were literally asleep at the table when I got here.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say, defensively. “I was resting my eyes.”

“You sound like Cassian after a three hour afternoon nap.”

“I’m just having a little trouble sleeping.” You set your spoon down and push the offending bowl away from you before slumping in your seat. You brush off her skeptical look with a wave of your hand. “I’m always like this after absorbing Fae magic.”

And over the last few days you’ve been absorbing a lot. All in an attempt to find out as much as you could about the Fae rebel group that had been attacking the borders of multiple Courts, in order to weaken them and make a point against you.

Well, you and your sisters. Not all of Prythian was accepting of Feyre for how she was Made, and even less so of you and Nesta and Elain. Instead, they viewed you as unnatural mutations and the whispers had only become worse after the War. It seemed that the lack of conflict looming over Prythian was unacceptable in their eyes.

With the help of your powers and Azriel’s shadows, you were closer than ever to finding them. Truthfully, the idea that there were Fae out there who hated you didn’t bother you so much in the sense of feeling like outcasts, but you couldn’t lie. They were starting to be a giant pain in your ass.

“You’re never like this,” Mor scoffs, gesturing to the bags under your eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks. As her voice raises, the pounding of your head gets more intense and you attempt to hold back a grimace. “Why is it affecting you so much this time?”

“It’s the type of magic I’m absorbing,” you practically whine, abandoning all pretences of being okay and allowing your shoulders to drop. “It’s so angry and harsh and impure, Mor! It’s literally making me sick because I have nowhere else to redirect it.”

At that moment Rhysand and Feyre walk in to join you at the table.

Rhysand, having overheard you, chimes in as he reaches for a plate of fruit. “Good news, our little Siphon,” he nudges you lightly, the nickname making you scrunch your nose up in mock annoyance. “We have enough information now to move forward using Az and Cass and resources from other Courts. The only thing we need you to do now is rest.”

Rhysand’s upbeat tone brings a weak smile to your face. You know that he’s being flippant to make you feel better, like he always does when you’re stressed or unwell and you’re nothing but appreciative as he whistles under his breath, nonchalantly piling some fruit onto a plate for you.

“You should have been resting days ago,” Feyre eyes you from beside Rhys with furrowed brows, taking in your tired form. “We told you yesterday would be too much.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Give me a couple hours and I’ll be fine for the meeting in Summer.”

Mor snorts and looks up at you, amused. When you raise an eyebrow, her smile drops into an incredulous expression. “You’re not serious.”

“I need to be there to discuss what I siphoned from that knife we found at the border of Dawn,” you say, holding up a hand and rushing out the rest of your words when Feyre opens her mouth to speak. “And Rhys promised me I would be there since it’ll be all the High Lords, Court informants and even soldiers. I couldn’t possibly not go.”

Feyre sighs, sensing that you’re not going to back down. She nods slowly, pointing at your plate. “Finish all of your breakfast and your lunch later on and then you can go.”

You let out a breath, feeling nauseous when Rhys slides your plate closer to you and simply shrugs when you glare at him. Traitor, you speak to him in your mind. He suddenly becomes very interested in a strawberry.

“Watch me,” you say confidently, waving your fork at Feyre who rolls her eyes at you and goes back to her own breakfast.

Summer court is your least favourite court at the best of times, though you’d never admit that to sweet and kind Tarquin, who’s arguably one of your favourite High Lords.

The beautiful, shimmering lagoons aren’t of interest to you as large bodies of water have always unsettled you. The warm breeze that everyone welcomes always reminds you of the times you had to suffer through sweltering heat when foraging for food with Feyre in your adolescence. You’ve always preferred a colder climate and appreciated a more muted daylight.

Considering your current health, the ripples in the water make you dizzy and the light salty breeze nearly brings your breakfast and lunch up.

You’re thankful for the sheer, thin material of the sage coloured dress that Nuala and Cerridwen chose for you because you suddenly feel a sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Are we done sightseeing?” you ask weakly, desperate to be inside already.

Elain turns to you and winces. “You don’t look too good….”

“Aw, thank you, Elain.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she tuts, coming over to fan your face with her hands. You swat them away, sputtering and try to catch Rhysand’s attention to move things along. He reluctantly agrees and gestures everyone to move along, too used to your aversion to Summer.

As you all enter the palace made of gleaming marble, you hang further back to avoid the watchful eyes of Feyre who seems to be waiting to send you right back home to rest.

The palace is beautiful and you push down your nausea to look around and take in the tall arched windows. The jewelled embellishments adorning the frames trail higher and higher and you crane your neck to see them.

This turns out to be a mistake when your vision starts to blur and another wave of nausea causes your steps to falter, the world tilting sharply.

A firm hand grips your elbow in an all too familiar fashion, steadying you before you’re sent flying to the ground. Another hand settles around your waist where the cutout of your dress exposes your now damp skin, glittering with sweat.

You look up and find Eris’ amber eyes locked onto your own.

“Foolish,” he mutters, his voice sharp with irritation, yet his hands remain steady in their position, holding you up. It’s the first word he’s uttered to you since your encounter a couple of weeks ago in the Spring Court where he’d left on frosty terms. You had seen him twice since then, but it was in the middle of meetings and siphoning sessions and he had barely spared you a single glance.

Your lips part but your senses are too overwhelmed to think of a response before he carries on, lightly shaking his head at you. “You overexert yourself all week and then travel here? What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m fine,” you manage to say, pulling away from him, but his grip only tightens. You can’t help glancing around and noticing that the growing crowd of all the Court officials has separated you from the Inner Circle. You huff out a breath as you register his words. You knew Rhysand had to communicate with the other High Lords with updates, but you didn’t know that included your physical state. “Gods, High Lords are such gossips…”

“You’re not fine,” he says, scowling like you’ve dreadfully inconvenienced him by nearly collapsing. His gaze flickers over the pallor of your skin and the way you’ve started to shiver slightly. “You drained yourself dry this week. And for what? To impress Rhysand? To prove something to him?”

“Let go of me, Eris,” you attempt to snap at him, but even you can hear the lack of strength in your voice. His eyes soften slightly when you say his name without your usual bite. “I can’t have this same conversation with you when I’m like this.”

“You think I want to be the one always catching you from falling on your face? Trust me when I say I have things I would rather be doing,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes.

You grit your teeth at the reminder and heat flares in your cheeks, whether it’s from embarrassment, anger or the climate of Summer, you don’t know.

Before you can retort, Eris sighs and straightens you up, still not fully letting you go. Releasing the hand around your waist, he loops your arm in his own and makes you lean on him for support. To your utter surprise, he doesn’t say anything as he starts walking towards the meeting room where everyone else files in. Despite your frustration, you’re grateful for his strength.

The moment of blissful silence doesn’t last too long, however. As he begins to lead you to where your family is stood and clearly looking around frantically for you, Eris leans in to whisper in your ear. “You need to sit down at the table,” he orders quietly, High Lord behaviour on full display.

You’re about to argue that no one else is going to be sat and he immediately catches this, cutting you off. “Don’t be stubborn for once in your life,” he murmurs, breath warm against your ear, making you shiver more than you already were. “Please?”

You quickly turn your head to meet his, shocked at the pleading in his voice. You didn’t realise how close this would bring your own face to his and words leave you. Thankfully, you’ve reached your family as you hear Cassian’s loud voice and it snaps you out of your little bubble.

“Finally!” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “We were about to send a search and rescue team, thinking you’d finally collapsed.”

“Why didn’t you?” Eris asks, coldly.

Cassian merely rolls his eyes at Eris’ attitude and gestures at Azriel.

Feyre comes forward to take your other arm in hers and explains. “Azriel’s shadows informed us that you were with her, Eris.” She smiles warmly and sincerely at him and Rhysand nods at him in recognition of his actions. “Thank you for looking after my sister.”

Eris shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet. I foresee many falls in her near future that I’m sure I won’t be present for.”

Feyre’s mouth twitches, but she quickly smoothes her face into an expressionless one when you frown at her and she busies herself with disentangling you from Eris.

He takes a step back, dark and fiery hair catching the sunlight through the tall windows and glances at you once more, not breaking eye contact, yet his words are directed towards Feyre. “Just make sure she sits down. The Night Court doesn’t need a martyr,” he says drily, before walking away.

Your mouth goes dry at the double meaning in his words, but you can’t shake off the shock at seeing genuine concern in his eyes. You must have looked practically near death, but you appreciated it all the same and you don’t even realise your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away until Feyre sits you down next to Nesta.

Your older sister raises an eyebrow at you, always so intuitive and you swat weakly at her to look away from you. Cassian’s eyes flit back and forth between you two, confused.

Before he can say anything, the meeting commences and you feel a shift in the energy of the room, full to the brim of Court officials, emissaries, a few warriors and of course, the High Lords around the table.

Your turn to speak comes fairly quickly since the most information regarding the Rebels is from you and Azriel. As per Rhysand’s instructions, you don’t go into any details regarding your siphoning powers, instead just sharing the information you gained due to them. You try to ignore the way people are staring at your weak form, but you continue to speak with all the strength you can muster. Evidently, you’re doing a convincing job as people start to nod, satisfied and scribble things down.

When Azriel’s turn arrives, you zone out a little, already having heard everything a few times over. Your ears only perk up when everyone is discussing plans of action against the Rebels and a question is asked in your general direction.

“Who are we thinking is to be at the front lines of this hypothetical mission?” The question comes from one of the Spring Court advisors, Vaelith, an older Fae with silver hair gathered in one long braid down his back.

His gaze lingers on you for only a split second before moving onto Rhysand and you feel compelled to answer. “Myself and Azriel,” you blurt out, before you can think twice. “And others of course, but the two of us are the most familiar with-”

“We’re all aware of the Shadowsinger’s abilities,” Vaelith interrupts you, holding up a hand to stop you from talking. You hold back a scowl. “What makes you suitable to lead such a mission aside from your… familiarity with a selection of items left behind by these Rebels?”

“I’m more than able to-” you cut yourself off and swallow, gaining yourself a second to think of a way to defend yourself without giving away your powers, as per your High Lord’s request.

Careful, Y/N

Rhysand’s voice sounds clear as day in your head and you try not to wince at the volume considering the silence of the rest of the room. The other High Lords knew of your powers, but Rhysand had requested they keep it to themselves, even from their own Court officials. Whether or not Rhysand had used his Daemati abilities to ensure this, you didn’t want to know.

“I’m more than able to assist in a plan of action,” you continue firmly, voice hardening. “I’m not sure if you remember a certain War we just had, but you may wish to remind yourself who was at the front lines of that.”

A few laughs break the tense silence and some people start muttering, slowly raising the volume of the room. You almost don’t hear Vaelith’s next words. “You haven’t really answered my question.”

“Let’s use our senses, Vaelith,” a voice rings out from further down the table and you’re startled to realise that Eris is speaking up. The room finally quietens down and you sit up impossibly straight, surprised that Eris is about to defend you.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

He only spares you a fleeting glance, but even from your seat you could see it’s full of amusement and mocking. The thing that surprises you is that the mocking is directed at you. “Look at her. Are you really questioning the abilities of a female who barely has the strength to sit up in her seat, let alone fight?”

Your stomach drops, a ball of humiliation unfurling in your chest as he continues to speak.

“I’d like to believe Rhysand has more sense than to send someone on the frontlines who would just be doing the rebels a favour,” Eris drawls, raising an eyebrow at Rhys, still avoiding your gaze.

Rhysand nods. “I can assure you I’ll only be sending my strongest soldiers, Vaelith,” he smirks, faintly, as though the implication he’d do anything to suggest otherwise is laughable. “Now may we discuss matters of actual importance? Tarquin, what have your soldiers been preparing?”

The tension dissolves almost immediately, but you’re still shellshocked, shaking with anger rather than weakness now. It’s as though you’ve been pumped with a burst of adrenaline and it doesn’t seem to be dampening.

After the conversation has shifted to a completely different subject, you shift from your seat as discretly as possible and mutter to Nesta that you need some air before standing up.

You look at the High Lord of Autumn before you walk away, but it only infuriates you more. Eris doesn’t look anywhere near you, but his jaw is clenched all the same, as though he can feel you glaring at him.

Mor catches your arm as you’re walking out and hisses in your ear. “You’re still not well,” she turns her body fully towards you. “Wait for me to come with you.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, shaking your head and clenching your fists to keep them from trembling as you speak through gritted teeth. “I feel suddenly energised. I’ll only be outside.”

Mor gives you a once over and is clearly satisfied with the fact that you’re unlikely to collapse again as she nods and releases your arm, allowing you to rush through the crowd of people and push through the guards.

You walk briskly away from the doors of the meeting room and further down the empty hallway until you’re satisfied that no one will hear your heavy breathing.

You lean against a pillar, exhaling in and out to control your anger and keep the tears at bay. Gods, you feel so stupid. Of course, Eris is incapable of being a decent male to anyone, let alone to you. Damn him and his cruel smirk and damn Rhysand too for allowing it to happen.

Brushing away the tears that have managed to fall, you curse yourself for not just pushing him away and allowing yourself to collapse on the hard marble flooring. It was giving you whiplash the way he could be so full of concern one second and practically call you useless in front of a room full of officials the next.

The longer you stand against the marble pillar, the weaker you begin to feel and that burst of adrenaline you previously felt is no longer present. The anger that fuelled you mere seconds ago is now winding you and a rising sense of panic begins to consume you.

You decide to turn around to walk back so you’re closer to the doors of the meeting room in case you embarrassingly do collapse.

However, the second you take a step, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye is all the warning you get before strong arms clamp around you from behind and a cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, preventing you from breathing. You can’t even scream as the scent of something strong and chemical floods your senses, making your vision blur.

You thrash around in an attempt to use the little strength you have left to escape, but the arms only grip you harder and the world begins to spin. The last thing you feel is the cool marble floor as your knees give out and no one bothers to catch you as you hit the ground, darkness swallowing you whole.

tag list: @fabulouslyflamboyant @deepestmentalityperson @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl @goldenmagnolias @whydohumansss @fandomtrash465 @mrsbarnes32557038 @aaprilshowers @scarsandallaz @-im-fantastic- @cat-or-kitten @annamariereads16 @adelina-127 @onlymexsarah @puddlesplasher17 @eyes-capone @hermaeuswhora

[emilys-bangs]

invisible string | e.p

Tags: emt!reader, meet cute(?) - def a bloody one lol, blood and injury, car accident, flirty emily, flustered reader (who gives in once cause who wouldn’t), no use of yn

Summary: Emily gets into an accident. Could anyone fault her for flirting with her EMT?

Word count: 2.6k

Part two

For my fave loser girl @notaboypossiblyagenius because we’re spiritually connected <3

Car accidents can be no big deal, or they can be catastrophic. 

This one seems to be somewhere in between. The roads are icy tonight; you were expecting something of this measure since last week, and your predictions were right—this is the third accident you’ve been called to in the past six days. 

The hood of the SUV is bent around a pole. It seems to be a mild crash, no other cars around, but you’re still preparing yourself for anything as you carefully assess the stability of the pole before approaching the passenger’s side, your coworker going over to the driver.

When you peer through the window, you find a dark-haired woman. Her head is on the headrest and her eyes are closed, a crimson line of blood cutting down the paleness of her cheek. You lightly tap on the frosted glass. 

She opens her eyes. After blinking repeatedly, she lowers the window. 

You crane your neck into the car, checking the backseats and subtly trying to assess the damage. “Hi there.” You give her a smile, your eyes briefly flitting to her equally dark-haired companion in the driver’s seat.

The woman blinks at you sluggishly.

“…Hey.” She slurs.

It’s more of a question. That could definitely mean a concussion, you think, what with her head wound. You reach into your belt for your flashlight, clicking it open and shining it into the car. The woman squints. 

“You’re gonna be okay, we’ll get you out of here in a sec. Can you tell me your name?”

She pauses a little when your eyes meet. You hold your breath, the blankness of her gaze stirring up dread in the pit of your stomach. But then she blinks and it clears a fraction.

“Emily.” She mumbles, slowly. Her brows furrow and she stares at you intently, as if you might have the answer. In the darkness, you don’t know if you’re looking into pupil or iris. “...Prentiss.”

Some of the tightness in your gut loosens. You give her another smile, careful not to let your concern peek through. “How are you doing, Emily? Does anything hurt?” You run the flashlight up and down her body, your eyes sharp for any more serious looking injuries. Her coat seems to have protected her from the seatbelt, but when the light passes over her wrist, you spot some discoloration around it.

“Uhh…” she reaches for her seatbelt. “My—”

“Please don’t move.” Your hand shoots through the window, stilling hers on the buckle. She frowns confusedly. “Sorry, I just need to properly asses your injuries first. We’ll get you out of here in no time, I promise.” You say, your voice slipping into that firm but soothing tone you’ve learned to develop. Emily nods and you give her another reassuring smile as you open the car door. “You were saying something?”

“M’head,” she mumbles. You nod as you check her over, eventually clicking your flashlight closed and sliding it into your belt. Again you spot the discoloration on her wrist.

“Anything else?”

She seems to consider it for a moment, but then she shakes her head. You’ll deal with that later, then.

“Any trouble breathing?” You ask, leaning over her to unbuckle her seat belt. The scent of blood is thick; you try to take a closer look at the gash on her forehead, but it’s dark and her hair is in the way.

“No.”

Still, you check her airway, gently asking and prodding until you’re satisfied there’s nothing more critical needing your attention. When you’re done you instinctively place your hand on her knee and squeeze lightly—a habit of the job.

“Okay honey, I’m gonna get you out now. Let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

A faint pink spreads across her cheeks. “’Kay,” she mumbles, throwing a furtive look to the driver’s seat. Her companion is long gone, helped out of the car by your coworker; you can distantly hear them at the ambulance.

With the ice, it takes a bit of work, but once you safely get her out of the car, you also help Emily to the ambulance. She’s stiff, not really allowing herself to lean on you even though she sways a little. You’ve dealt with plenty of people like this before, so you don’t try to force her closer, just keeping your arm steady around her in case she slips. Some of the tension in her body loosens when she spots her friend on the ledge of the ambulance.

“They got ya too, Hot—Hey,” Emily cuts herself off, a deep v creasing between her brows, “you said you weren’t hurt.” 

Her tone is accusatory. Which is fair, given the bruising on the man’s cheek and the stilted way his jacket lays on one shoulder, very obviously dislocated. His eyes trail over her, down the blood on her forehead and your steadying arm around her waist.

“So did you.”

Her lips purse. “I’m fine. I jus’ have a headache—”

“A very bloody one.”

“—not a goddamn dislocated shoulder!” She protests, concern taking over her features. Her voice, so far having been fluid and slurry, hardens to steel. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Not just for him,” you say. “That head wound might cause a concussion, we need to get you a CT scan.”

Emily turns to you and frowns, as if you’re being unreasonable. “It’s just a headache.” She sulks.

“Headaches are a common symptom of concussions after blunt force trauma.”

“But—”

“We’re all going to the hospital, Emily.” The man sighs, his lips pressing together into a thin line when your coworker comes back with his kit. “Just get in so we can get this over with.”

He must be some kind of boss—or at least some years older—because the fight leaks out of her shoulders, despite the firm set to her brows. She resignedly accepts as you get her into the ambulance and on the cot, her eyes squinting as she adjusts to the bright light.

“I’m just gonna check your vitals first.” You tell her. The words are instinctive to you; most patients you deal with are confused and in pain, still in shock from their accidents, and you’ve found that explaining what you’re about to do makes your job a lot easier.

You checked her breathing in the car but you do it again, just to be sure. Emily stays quiet as you do. She blinks rapidly and keeps her eyes down, still adjusting to the lights of the ambulance as you try your best to move quickly. Her blood pressure is next, which she also accepts without complaint. 

When you pick up her right hand, you find reddish discoloration circling her wrist. Her hand trembles in your grip, shaking almost imperceptibly. 

“Do you feel any pain here?” You ask, gently smoothing your thumb over the cold inner skin of her wrist. 

Emily shakes her head.

You frown a little as you gently prod the area. She yelps suddenly, half pulling her hand back into her chest. You drop it, guilt swirling in your gut at the way she grimaces. “Sorry.” You apologize thickly. “It might be sprained, you’ll need an X-ray to make sure.” 

Emily bites her lip and nods, not looking at you as you carefully take the pulse in her left wrist instead. It jumps beneath your fingertips, quicker than normal but still within the range of acceptable; you let go of her hand and grab an instant ice pack from your kit, popping it so it freezes over.

“Hold this to your wrist.” 

She does it silently. Her head is bent, the dark strands of her hair absorbing the fluorescent lights. The outline of her shoulders shivers faintly; you press your fingertips to her coat. “Hey. Are you doing alright?” You ask gently.

It sounds a stupid question even to your ears, especially when she looks up and you see the blood dripping down the sharp line of her jaw, onto the collar of her coat. There’s a small furrow between her brows when your eyes meet, but it loosens a little as she gives you a small smile.

“Yeah, ’m good.” She says. There’s a heaviness to her voice, despite the dimple in her cheek. 

Now that you’re beneath the light and she’s properly looking you in the eye, you’re suddenly aware of her striking beauty. Fluorescent lights and the blood dripping down her cheek hardly diminish her sharp features. Shiny dark bangs dip between her brows, just the same bitter coffee shade of her eyes. Those are ringed with equally dark lashes, and in her pale, bloodless face, the shocking collision has the same effect of a black hole.

You blink, the sightly ragged sound of her breathing snapping you back to the present.

Oh, god, had you been staring? 

Heat bursts through your cheeks as you clear your throat, desperately attempting to be casual. You reach for your penlight, bending your head to be more level with hers. “Keep your eyes open, please.” You instruct as you shine the light into her eyes. 

Her pupils are blown; wide, uneven pools of black that push her dark brown irises to thin rings. They’re almost as dark as her pupils, you note, and not for the first time.

Focus.

“Yep,” you mutter, giving her a small, sad smile as you straighten. “Definitely a concussion.”

“They’re not that big of a deal.” She says flippantly, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture.

A frown draws your brows together. “You have a history of concussions?” That could definitely be a problem, you think as you click the penlight closed.

“I’m a federal agent.” Emily says, as if that explains it. She squints as she tips her chin further up, gravity dragging her bangs over her brows. The darkness of her eyes freezes you in place. “You’re…really beautiful.” She murmurs. 

You suck in a surprised breath. The back of your throat goes dry, aided by the piercing intensity of her gaze. She blinks a few times and leans in closer, dark, spidery lashes kissing her bloody cheek.

“Excuse me?”

 “You’re a little blurry, though.”

“That’s—”

“Too pretty for a job like this.” Emily muses. Her eyes drag over you; the scrutiny makes your heart kick.

She’s your patient.

Trying to move on, you place the back of your hand to her cheek. Emily’s brows shoot up in surprise, not recognizing what you’re doing as you check the temperature of her skin. You shouldn’t rise to her flirtations, you know that. She’s not even fully lucid.

But your mouth moves before you can stop it.

“Well, you’re too pretty to be a federal agent,” you say softly, your voice low as you gauge her skin. Cold, pale. “I bet you get banged up all the time, right? That’s a shame.” You turn to grab a shock blanket. You unfold it, wrap it around her shoulders above her coat. Her dark hair is trapped under it; you resist the urge to pull it out. 

A blush has spread across her cheeks. Shocking red, a close shade to the blood traveling down the length of her face. “We—uh…we jus’ wanted to get food for our team.” She sucks in a breath, “Why’d you put this on me?”  

“You’re pale, looks like you might be in shock.”

“That’s just my natural color,” Emily protests as you reach for a pair of gloves and slip them over your unsteady hands. “Right, Hotch?” She calls out, loud enough for him to hear.

“Keep the shock blanket, Emily.”

“It’s cold out,” you say apologetically. For some reason, you don’t want to gain her displeasure, though—in a situation like this, at least—she seems easily displeased. “And you lost a lot of blood.”

Her whole demeanor shifts. Suddenly a dimple winks at you, its sly curve in her cheek matching the curve of her lips. “You could just warm me up.” Emily suggests, her light tone masking her exhaustion. 

What? “I…uh.” Fuck, your whole body is on fire. You’re sure you’re gaping at her, but she looks entirely serious. 

This is what you get for flirting back. 

“I have to clean your wound.” You blurt out.

“That’s okay, you can sit on my lap and do it.” Her teeth flash as she grins up at you. Dimples. Two. She laughs at the dumbfounded look on your face, the sound gritty and soft. “Hey, c’mon, I’m a big girl, I can handle it. Super strong FBI agent, y’know? I won’t let you fall.” She says earnestly.

“Ma’am—”

“Emily.” The man calls out.

Emily blows a raspberry.

“Buzzkill,” she mutters. Her eyes leave you to glare daggers at his back, and that’s when you finally regain your composure. Taking in a quiet, deep breath, you firmly push away the butterflies climbing up your stomach and grab an alcohol pad from your kit, getting to work on her forehead. The latex of your gloves sticks to your sweat-slick palms.

Stay professional, you tell yourself as you inhale quietly, trying to cool the heat in your body. She’s a patient.

Emily’s eyes are once again on your face, turning your skin to fire. “Do you have a boss like that, too? Bit of a hardass?” She lowers her voice theatrically, the whisper of it echoing in the space between your bodies. “We like him, don’t worry, but he can be a bit uptight.”

You don’t answer, biting your tongue because obviously you can’t be trusted to keep it to yourself. Instead you focus on swiping the alcohol pad over her cheek, gently scrubbing until the blood gives way to pale skin. Few freckles peek up at you as you continue moving your way up to the gash. The blood has stopped, but it’s still thick over the wound.

“What’s your name?” She asks softly. There’s a rasp to her voice, threading through her words, and you wonder if you should give her a bottle of water.

This question is harmless, so you answer it. 

“Pretty,” Emily says, her tone wistful. “Everythin’ about you is.”

Your inhale is audible in the minimal space. You avoid Emily’s eyes as you reach for a square of gauze and press it to her forehead; she takes in a quick breath of her own. 

The gauze quickly soaks through, and you replace it with a fresh one.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Her voice is small, thready.

Your heart is in your throat. “No,” you say. Just nervous.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her tone sincere. “I’m not usually like this.”

You gather no one would be themselves after they’d gotten into a car accident, obtained a concussion, and lost a significant amount of their blood volume from a bash to the head. But something tells you this enigma of a woman is different.

“I told you I’m not uncomfortable.” Roundabout way of saying you’re basking in her attention. You clear your throat, “It’s good that you’re talking—helps me know you’re conscious.”

Gently, you swipe her matted bangs to the side and try to get a look at her wound. It’s shallow, but nothing you can treat on your own. As you’re bandaging it, you hear her mutter a curse.

You look down at her, irrational guilt settling in your stomach. “Are you in pain? Do you want some Tylenol?”

Emily blinks dazedly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She tilts her head, “If I say yes, will you give me your number?”

“Emily.” Her boss sighs.

She grins.

You flush.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

[scoutswritingcorner]

Deerly Beloved PT.2

Alastor x GN!Deer!Reader

Part 1

TW:NONE

A/n: Cause some people asked for this. 

-🦌 Starting where I left off last time: Eskimo kisses are the only kisses he will give out in public or in the hotel. It’s just become routine for you both to do it to one another. He’ll bend down, tilt your head up by your chin and just give you little eskimo kisses before he leaves.

-🦌 If he’s actually going to kiss you, it will be behind closed doors and away from private eyes. He can’t get enough of it.

-🦌 He’s very suave. But he’s also equally as awkward. Like he can flirt with you all day but then you flirt back and he’s just standing there eyes wide and confused. 

-🦌 More awkward Alastor? He has trouble reading the room sometimes so he just kinda stands somewhere. (honestly me too bud-)

-🦌 If you have horns he’s either laying his chin on your head between them or trying to balance things on them. Please sit still, this could go on for hours. The last thing he could get on there was a marshmallow. (He cleans your horns for you don’t worry)

-🦌 This man is stuck to you like glue. Like- You could be doing your job around the hotel and he’s hugging you from behind and carrying you around. Charlie has to tell him to let you work. He gets grumpy.

-🦌 Sometimes he just stares off into space and he’s unresponsive for a bit. Prime time to get him back. Hang something on his horns and act like nothing happened when he clocks back into reality. 

-🦌When he gets mad at you for something? He stomps his hooves and walks off. It’s his way of throwing a tantrum without causing too much a scene. 

-🦌 He’s not up to date on modern slang at all so if he gets on your nerves bamboozle the old man with some weird slang and he’ll be confused for an hour or so until someone tells him.

-🦌 Fall asleep somewhere and he’ll sit by or near you to watch over you, he’s usually reading but he makes sure everyone in the room leaves you alone.

-🦌 He loves having you sitting on his lap, it’s solely because he likes comparing your hooves together. Like- you could be asleep and he’d be talking still about your hooves. He doesn’t take offense to you falling asleep while he talks, he’s grateful his voice soothes you.

-🦌 Like anything- he has deer tendencies. Like grooming you, he loves to help brush your hair and fix your clothing. He lets you do the same to him. It helps keep down his more animalistic urges. 

-🦌 I 100% feel like he knows how to braid, wash and help brush any type of hair. Whether it’s curly, wavy, straight, coily, thick, anything. If you ask him, he will help. His Mama taught him well.

-🦌 If you get self conscious of your horns falling out cause it does happen he’ll help in anyway he can. He will make a joke about you missing something though. Be aware.

-🦌 Once again, he loves playing silly little games with you. Like in my last post, a fucked up game of tag where he’s chasing you around the hotel cause he can or play fighting with you cause its fun. His other favorite game of his is hiding your things around the hotel.

-🦌 (Don’t imagine him in a white shirt, suspenders and trousers. Don’t do it gang.)

-🦌 Once again. He will pick you up if you take too long with something and he will be unapologetic. He’s got a busy schedule! (He’s getting restless).

A/n: This turned into me thinking about silly things he does and I’m so sorry. I got way off track..ENJOY!!

[soupangel]

Intoxicated - Gojo Satoru

tags: fluff, established relationship, drunk!satoru, mentions of alcohol

wc: 534

Synopsis: What do you get when you give the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alcohol? a drunk needy boyfriend.

a/n: I hope you enjoy!!

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In all the years you’ve known Satoru Gojo, he’s never gotten drunk in front of you. So when celebrating his birthday with your friends, you noticed him stumbling his way across the room. It was clear that he was drunk.

While you try to go back to your conversation with Shoko, the sudden loud plop of Gojo sitting down next to you immediately shifts your focus. You look over to see Gojo hunched over with his head resting on the table, looking up at you with a dopey grin on his face.

“You know you’re the most beautiful person in the world,” he slurs.

While laughing, you run your hand down his back.

“Oh, am I? well I think you’re the most drunk man in the world. How much did you have to drink?”

“Hmm I dont know either four or ten.” He hums, closing his eyes to enjoy feeling your hand on his back.

His response makes your jaw drop. “Ten!?”

He shot up to look at you with wide eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” He said with tears pooling in his eyes.

You turn to Shoko with widened eyes. This was out of character for Satoru. She looks back at you with raised eyebrows as she takes a sip of her drink, turning away from you, leaving you to deal with the drunken mess that is your boyfriend alone.

You grab your hands and look at him worriedly. “No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I had too much to drink and now you hate me and never wat to see me again,” he rambled on, sniffing in between a few words.

If it was possible for you to unhinge your jaw to emote how absolutely shocked you were, you would do it. But it’s not so you just stick with trying to calm your now very emotional boyfriend.

You take your hands from his to smooth down his hair, hoping to calm him at least a little.

“Satoru, that is not true,” you said. “I love you, and it’s your birthday. I think you're allowed to have some fun.”

“Really? you still love me?”

“Yes Satoru, I still love you,”

“Really really?”

“Really really,” you laugh

“Really, really, really?”

“Ok, I’m not doing this with you all night. How about we go back home and rest?” you breathed.

He pondered your suggestion for a few seconds before smiling.

“We can cuddle, right?” he said excitedly

“Yes, we can absolutely cuddle. anything you want, it’s your birthday after all.”

It takes some effort to help him stand up from his seat. He leans on you almost immediately and walks towards the exit. You throw Shoko a quick wave goodbye so you could keep up with Satorus’ fast steps.

He fell asleep on the cab ride home, so getting him inside took longer since he was still half asleep and stumbling.

You saved yourself the trouble of changing him and just lay him on the bed. You followed shortly after him. Like magnets, you two gravitated toward each other and fell asleep with Satoru cuddled in your arms.

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[moonstruckme]

Doting

summary: you feel needy for wanting support after a hard day. Your boyfriends set you straight

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 1.4k words

You sit on the couch, surrounded by all the love you could ever want, and do your best not to sulk. 

In the kitchen, Remus hums as he makes dinner, and Sirius and James are playing cards on the coffee table in front of you while you pretend to read. 

“I’m out,” James declares proudly, laying the last of his cards on the table as Sirius throws his down with a huff. 

“I’m done playing with a cheater,” Sirius says with faux malice, turning around to look at you sweetly from where he sits at your feet. “Y/N, gorgeous, want to join me for a game?”

You paste a smile on your face. “Thanks Siri, but I’m busy.” You hold up your book as evidence, and he pouts but turns back around, reshuffling the cards.  

You notice James studying your features, and you do your best to look content, normal. After years of being around the other two boys and their silent misery, James has gotten very skilled at detecting a dismal mood, and you don’t want to ruin everyone’s night. In truth, you’d had an awful day. A customer had yelled at you at work, and then you’d been stupid enough to cry while driving, almost getting in an accident due to your distraction. You’d arrived home shaken and upset, and had barely had time to pull yourself together before Sirius had come in the door  a few minutes later, Remus and James following not long after. You don’t enjoy being so delicate that having any amount of anger directed at you reduces you to a sniveling mess, and you’d resisted the urge to lock yourself away in your room in the hopes that acting like everything was normal would eventually make you feel normal. 

So far, it isn’t working as well as you’d hoped. 

If anything, it feels odd to be the dark cloud of such a joyous space; with Sirius and James laughing and bickering in front of you, Remus humming just around the corner, and the delicious smell of whatever he’s making beginning to waft toward you from the kitchen, you feel unappreciative and embarrassed for being unhappy. Beyond that, you know you have the sweetest boyfriends in the world, and they’d drop everything if they knew you were upset. Frankly, you don’t deserve their kindness when you're wallowing in self-pity over something so silly. You’d only be dragging them into your sorrow with you, and there’s no sense in all of you being down there together. You can handle it on your own. 

But James’ too-perceptive gaze seems to find some fault in your placid facade, and though you will him desperately not to, he asks, “You alright, angel?”

You give him a different smile this time; it’s smaller, a bit more honest, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” you say, in your most placating tone. “I’m good, thanks Jamie.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhm.” 

James’ eyes are slightly troubled, but he nods, directing his attention back to the cards. It’s too late, though, because now Sirius is turning back towards you, something in James’ tone or yours tipping him off. He sets down the deck, pulling himself up onto the couch to sit beside you, his eyes level with yours. 

“What’s going on?” he asks in that rare no-nonsense way that lets you know he’s serious. 

You hate when they tag-team you like this. James may be good at picking up on your moods, but he also knows when you want to be left alone. Sirius, on the other hand, prefers to root out any bad feelings and beat them into submission. 

“Nothing,” you say, no longer under any impression that either boy believes you. Still, you take Sirius’ hand, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s okay.” 

Sirius is undeterred, searching your face like it’ll come clean when you won’t. You can’t take the intensity of his stare and drop your gaze, but he only stoops to follow it. You’re trapped. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his thumb stroking your hand cajolingly. “What’s your deal, huh? Talk to us, baby.”  

It's the pet name that gets you, and the first tear leaks from your eye just as Remus comes in with dinner. 

He stops short at the new, sullen atmosphere of the living room, but rushes over once he sees your face. 

“What’s going on?” He sets the plates aside, seating himself on your other side.

“We don’t know,” James says, moving to sit on the coffee table, his knees brushing your legs where they’re curled up under you. “She hasn’t said.” 

“She’s right here,” you joke, but no one smiles. 

Remus takes the hand not currently claimed by Sirius. “What’s wrong, love?”

You press your lips together to keep them from wobbling, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to reverse the course the evening is taking. 

“Honey.” His tone is admonishing, but still unbearably sweet, and you crumple, more tears falling as a gasping sob escapes you. Remus pulls you into him as though he can make you a shelter out of his own body, and you go willingly. “Was it a bad day? Is that it?”

You can only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. After a beat, Sirius asks, “Are we going to have to beat someone up?”

You laugh, and it’s awful and pitchy, but it loosens some of the pressure in your chest. James’ hand finds your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly before starting to rub slow, soothing circles into your upper back. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. 

“What the hell for?” Sirius asks, and you open your eyes in time to see Remus give him a harsh look. Sirius ignores him, reaching for you. His thumb is gentle as he wipes under your lashes. “You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?”

“I just—” You take a shuddering breath. “It was so embarrassing, and I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night.” 

“Sweetheart,” James coos. “We don’t care. We’d so much rather know you’re upset and be able to help than have you suffer in silence all night. Besides, don’t you think you deserve the same treatment you give us?”

Shame washes over you, and you tuck yourself further into Remus’ side. “You guys never ask as much of me as I do of you.”  

James’ eyebrows jump nearly to his hairline and Sirius makes an incredulous sound, but it’s Remus who speaks. “Dove, are you serious? What about when I had a migraine last month, and you stayed home with me all day?” He maneuvers you in his arms until you’re facing him, looking you in the eye. “Or the last time James had a bad day, and you went on a run with him so he’d have company, even though you hate running? Or just last weekend, when Sirius got too wasted—” You can feel the glare Sirius is shooting him from behind you, but Remus continues—”and you stayed up with him all night holding his hair, and then in the morning you brought him gatorade and cleaned his sick out of the carpet?”

“Don’t act like you’re so needy,” Sirius says, and you turn towards his voice to find his stare just as piercing as you left it, “and we’re all perfectly self-sufficient. You’re not the only one who needs help sometimes, so if you have a bad day, we wanna hear about it.” He’s looking at you like your silliness astounds him, and James grasps your shoulder with a small smile, giving you a little shake as if to reprimand you. 

You look helplessly towards the plates Remus had brought in only a few minutes before, discarded on the edge of the coffee table. 

“Dinner’s gonna get cold,” you say mournfully. 

Remus shrugs. “I’ll microwave it. And if you wanna talk, we will, and if you don’t, you can pick us a movie to watch, yeah?”

You look at the three of them, gratitude and love both so huge and warm in your chest you can’t tell which is which. “Okay.”

“Good.” Sirius tugs you out of Remus’ arms and into his own, planting a kiss on the side of your head. “Merlin, you’re tough to get things out of. Think you could go a bit easier on yourself in the future?”

“Yeah,” James pipes up. “Be nicer to our girl, she’s had a rough day.” 

You hide your face in Sirius’ chest, flushing, but at least this time, your smile is real.

[the-bi-space-ace]

My partner had the cutest idea and I just have to share it with you.

Rex was so strict as a cadet. He tried hard to prove himself, stuck to the rules, made sure everything he did was in line with regulation.

However, a few command track clones took Rex under their wing: Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Bly, and Ponds. They knew Rex needed to relax a bit. He needed to have a bit of fun, not just stick to the regulations, so they kept trying to get Rex to play with them. Games like cards or more physical games like tag instead of having to run laps every time they did cardio.

Little baby cadet Rex was not having it. He was too nervous to step outside of the lines so they came up with an ingenious plan.

“It’s training, Rex!” Cody would say and he’d tilt his head to the side in suspicion.

“It looks like a card game.” Rex would throw back. Which is when one of the others would step in to say that it ‘tests your reaction time’ or ‘helps you strategize.’ He gave in, of course, and let them pull him away from responsibilities too many times to count.

He loosened up as he got older, realized that part of life is goofing off and having some fun. He didn’t have to be ‘perfect’ for them to still love him.

And imagine, down the line when Rex meets a trooper a lot like himself when he was younger. Someone who knows the regs front to back, can recite them without a second thought, and is tied at the hip with someone that would follow his lead anywhere. Someone who is still trying to prove himself and now wants to work extra hard in the 501st to be the best he can be.

Imagine the first time Rex strolls into the training gym and stops them in the middle of a spar and doesn’t like the way Echo’s back straightens like he’s about to get in trouble. Think about how he sighs and says:

“Boys, I think it’s time you got some more specialized training.” And Fives and Echo look at each other, confused but intrigued by what in the galaxy ‘specialized training’ even means. The only warning he gives is the same one he got from Cody as a cadet. “Don’t let me catch you.” before he takes off after them.

It’s tag. They’re playing tag. And it’s silly and a little stupid but by the time they’re done everyone is out of breath and they’re all half dead because their lungs are screaming at them but everyone is smiling and that’s really good enough for Rex.

He thinks of all the times a simple, silly game was called ‘training’ and he had to be tricked into it by people who love him and he knows he’ll do the same to make these two primarily Echo loosen up and get comfortable with their place in the 501st.

They have a lot to learn, but Rex knows they’ll make him proud. Whether or not they can win a game of tag- oh, wait, I’m sorry - whether or not they can win a ‘training exercise’ or a ‘spar’. They’ll get comfortable. And he’s sure there will be times they’ll make his life hell just like he did to everyone who helped him find his place.

It’s part of growing up and finding your people and figuring out who you are, your place in it all. Rex is more than happy to help.

[secret-sturniolo]

trouble in paradise - matt sturniolo

-one bed/enemies to lovers trope. CONTAINS SMUT! (1.9k words)

warnings - lowkey asshole!matt, arguing, unprotected p in v (pull out method not recommended), pussy eating, fingering

a/n - will this be my writing comeback?

tillies33ssss

"Y/n, please! We're gonna have so much fun, I promise!"

I was laying in Nick's bed as he desperately tried to convince me to come on this trip. The boys go to Hawaii every year, and this year he wanted me to tag along. Of course I was skeptical. Being stuck on a tropical island for a week with my best friend didn't seem so bad, but when one of his brothers hated me? I wasn't so sure. After a few days of convincing though, I made up my mind. How bad could it be, right?

(time skip - 10pm @ the hotel)

"You're fucking kidding, right?"

While in a particularly good mood, I agreed to room with Matt. At least we would each have our own bed, we didn't even have to talk to each other. Until we scanned the card to unlock our room, revealing the single king bed against the wall.

My heart dropped. "This has to be a sick joke." I say, my eyes wide.

After calling both Nick and Chris and the front desk, it was revealed that there had been a mix up with the reservations. The cherry on top, though? The hotel was fully booked. Not a single extra room was available we could switch to, leaving reality to sink in.

I try to keep a level head, knowing Matt was on edge. I move around the room silently so as not to give him any reason to be angry. I watch as he flops onto the bed.

"Have fun sleeping on the floor." He says, expressionless.

I scoff. "You're not serious, right? There's no way you're making me sleep on the dirty hotel floor."

He relaxes his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. He was clearly ignoring me. I let out a small laugh in disbelief.

"Matt, come on. Now you're just being childish."

He opens his eyes, not moving. "Oh, I'm being childish? You're the one who throws a fit every time something doesn't go your way!" He shoots back at me.

"I didn't come to Hawaii to sleep on the floor!" I say, my frustration growing.

Matt sits up harshly, his eyes boring into mine. "You shouldn't even be here at all!" He yells, his words sharp as a knife.

My jaw drops as I take a step back, surprised by his sudden outburst.

"Why were you even invited on this trip?" he continues. "Seriously, I'd like to know. Because it sure as hell wasn't by me!"

I feel my chest tighten, tears welling in my eyes as he yells. I begin to speak, but he cuts me off.

"Oh, are you gonna cry now?" he taunts. "Grow up."

I clench my jaw, grabbing a room key and my phone as I walk toward the door.

"Let me know when you're done being an asshole." I say before slamming the door behind me.

I wander down the hotel hallways like a labyrinth before finding the elevator. I ride down the the first floor, the lobby was empty as most people were sleeping already. I sign on the wall points to an exit. I follow the path, leading me to a small outdoor spa area. Underwater lights lit up the hot tub, curls of steam rising into the cool night air. I slip off my shoes, sitting on the edge of the tub as my feet dangle into the water.

"What is wrong with me?" I whisper to myself, letting a tear slip from my eye. Was he right, should I really not have come? I think about texting Nick, but I figured he was asleep, tired from the jet-lag. I sit in silence as time slips by, letting my thoughts and doubts spiral.

I open my phone, typing a search into google. The screen displays a list of flights, my eyes scanning down the page. There was one flight tomorrow morning, showing 3 seats left. My finger lowers to tap the purchase button before my phone is swiped out of my hand.

"What?!" I jump, looking up. "Matt? What the fuck are you doing?" I say harshly.

He frowns at my screen. "You're leaving." He says, more of a statement than a question.

I reach for my phone back. "Yeah, I was trying to!" I shoot back, clearly annoyed.

Matt's eyes widen slightly at my serious tone. "You're actually serious?" He still holds my phone away from me.

I stare at him, not trying to hide the hurt on my face. "I thought that's what you wanted."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Then why did you say it if you didn't mean it?"

He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Because I was overwhelmed and tired, and I took it out on whoever happened to be near me."

I sit quietly, not buying his excuse. I hear him sigh as he slips his own shoes off, sitting down next to me.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I blurt out.

I hear him take a deep breath as he tries to collect himself.

"I never hated you, y/n." he pauses. "It's actually kinda the opposite."

I look over at him, confused. "What?"

He kicks the water, sending ripples of small waves into the hot tub.

"You make me feel things I'm scared to feel."

I freeze, wondering if I heard him correctly. "Like what...?" I ask cautiously.

He hesitates for a moment, fidgeting with his fingers. "Like... attraction."

My heart beats faster as I nod slowly, acknowledging his words. My thoughts race, as everything I thought I knew was suddenly changing. He speaks again, nervously.

"It's stupid, I know. I'm just scared that if I let myself feel those things, I'll lose you." He looks down into the water.

I let out a small laugh, grabbing his hand softly as I intertwine our fingers. "I've stuck around this long. I don't think that would change anything."

I watch as he looks down at our hands that rest on his thigh, smiling softly with a small breath of relief.

"I don't want us to hate each other anymore, y/n." He says honestly.

I squeeze his hand. "I don't think we ever did."

A warm blush spreads to his cheeks as he meets my gaze. He leans in closer, pausing briefly to gauge my reaction. I close the gap, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. Our lips seem to fit together like a mold. Matt brings hi hands up to cup my cheek, my own hands resting on his shoulders as we get lost in each other. Desire surges through us before I pull away, my lips slightly parted.

Matt smiles softly, still blushing. " We should probably get out of here, right?" He stands, offering me his hand.

I nod, giggling softly as I take his hand. I let him lead me back through the hotel, up to our room on the third floor. He pulls me into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. He smiles softly at me before pulling me back in, his lips meeting mine once again, passionate and needy.

His hands wander from my cheeks to my waist, down to my ass, and back up. I sense his desire as I pull away slightly to slide my t-shirt over my head, revealing my simple, black lace bra. His head immediately ducks down, planting wet kisses on my exposed skin. I sigh at the feeling, before urgently tugging at the hem of his own shirt, which was quickly discarded. He tugs down his sweats before walking me backwards to the bed, laying me down gently.

He makes quick work of slipping my shorts down, tossing them away. His eyes rake over my body hungrily.

"God, you're beautiful." He mumbles loud enough for me to hear, causing my cheeks to redden.

He leans over me, his fingers hooked into my underwear. "Can I take these off?" He asks gently.

I nod quickly, desperate for his touch. He pulls them down my legs teasingly slow. I lean up, simultaneously unclasping my bra, leaving me bare before him. His thumb reaches down to rub slow, tentative circles over my clit.

"Matt, please!" I beg, causing him to smirk.

He grabs my legs, sliding my body to the edge of the bed as he brings his mouth down to my core. I feel his hot breath against me as he teasingly kisses my sensitive nub. Using the tip of his tongue, he flicks back and forth, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

He takes this as a signal to continue, thrusting his tongue into me. He groans as he finally tastes me, sending pleasant vibrations into me. I throw my head back, tangling my fingers in his hair, giving it a tug when it feels especially good.

"Oh, fuck!" I let out a gasp as he suddenly enters a finger into me, thrusting it while he continues to lick my clit.

My legs shake, squeezing against him as my orgasm bubbles in my stomach. I let out a loud moan, a string of curses leaving my mouth as I come undone. Matt continues for a few moments, letting me ride out my high before pulling away, licking his lips with a sly smile. I open my mouth to speak, but his lips are back on mine before I get the chance.

Without breaking the kiss, I feel him reach down to pull his boxers up. I hear a faint slapping sound as his erection hits his stomach. I pull away, looking between us at his dick, dripping pre-cum.

"Do you want this...?" He asks me, seriously.

"More than anything." I reply honestly.

He smiles, sitting back as me pulls my legs once again, letting them rest on his shoulders. I places his hand under my chin.

"Spit."

I give him a confused look, but I quickly oblige as his eyes pierce mine. He uses my spit as a lubricant, slowly stroking his dick as he looks into my eyes.

"Matt..." I urge him.

He nods knowingly, lining himself up with my entrance. He doesn't take his eyes off of mine as he pushes into me, giving me a chance to get used to the stretch. After a few seconds, I give him the okay to move.

His pace starts off slow and sensual, attaching his lips to my neck. Upon my request, he picks up the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm. His forehead rests against mine as he thrusts into me, our lips meeting every once in a while in a quick kiss.

The only sounds leaving our mouths are soft, breathy moans. We didn't need to use words, it was like we could reach each other like a book. Matt changes the angle slightly, causing his tip to hit me in just the right spot.

"Yes, Matt. Right there!" I feel myself getting close once again, my walls squeezing around him.

"Come for me, baby." Matt breathes against my neck.

After a couple more thrusts, my second orgasm comes crashing over me like a wave. Matt isn't far behind me, quickly pulling out and cumming on my stomach with a grunt.

He collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty and tired. After a few minutes, he props himself up on either side of me, smiling down at me in adoration.

"You're incredible." He tells me, causing me to giggle slightly.

"Yeah, we're definitely doing that again."

He kisses me, and in that moment I knew I was right. This was only the beginning.

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night (Louis Tomlinson x reader) - Fic Request

Masterlist

Anonymous request: Hi!! I was wondering if you could do Louis Tomlinson x fem! Reader who is in the band, her and Louis always had a flirty relationship but always told people it was a joke until one night during one of their tours things get heated between them and they hook up, a few weeks later reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Louis so she goes to her best friend Niall Horan for advice and Louis ends up over hearing them? Smut and fluff please!!

Tags: Louis x reader, friends to lovers, smut, pregnancy, fluff, angst

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

…

The arena hums softly with the buzz of amps and muffled conversations, but your focus is already on Louis, who stands near the drum kit, spinning a drumstick between his fingers with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. This is how it’s always been with the two of you—partners in chaos, constantly toeing the line of what you can get away with, but never crossing it. The harmless flirting, the relentless teasing—it’s your thing.

“Don’t even think about it,” you call out, a grin tugging at your lips.

Louis turns to you, all innocence and dimples. “Think about what, love?”

“Oh, you know exactly what,” you say, stepping closer. “Put the stick down before you get us all in trouble.”

“Trouble?” he echoes, mock-offended. “I am the very definition of responsibility.”

“You’re the definition of a menace,” you retort, grabbing the other drumstick off the snare. You twirl it between your fingers and smirk at him. “If you’re going to cause chaos, at least make it entertaining.”

His eyes light up at your challenge. “I knew I could count on you, partner.”

Before anyone can stop you, Louis taps the microphone stand with his drumstick, and you follow suit, matching his rhythm with the snare drum. The resulting cacophony blares through the speakers, earning a collective groan from Liam and the sound crew.

“Really?!” Liam barks from center stage, throwing his hands up. “Do you two have to do this every time?”

“Yes,” you and Louis say in unison, both grinning like kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Unbelievable,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Payno,” Louis says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re just making things more fun.”

“Fun is subjective,” Liam replies, deadpan.

Louis doesn’t even acknowledge him, already pulling you toward the piano at the corner of the stage. “Come on, let’s give them a real show.”

You follow without hesitation, laughing as you plop down on the bench beside him. “Alright, Mozart, let’s hear it.”

“Watch and learn, darling,” he says, cracking his knuckles dramatically before slamming his fingers onto the keys.

The result is an aggressively off-key rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and you immediately burst into laughter, doubling over as he continues his “masterpiece.”

“Wow,” you say between giggles, clapping along. “Move over, Beethoven. Louis Tomlinson has arrived.”

“I know,” he says smugly, tossing you a wink. “Don’t be jealous of my talent.”

“Talent?” you tease, leaning closer. “This is more like a crime against music.”

“Oh, you wound me,” he says, clutching his chest in mock pain. “But I’ll forgive you because you look cute when you’re pretending to be unimpressed.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He falters for a split second, just enough for you to notice, before recovering with a smirk. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but the playful tone in your voice makes it clear you’re enjoying every second.

The moment lingers, his eyes locked on yours, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension. But before anything can happen, Liam’s voice cuts through like a bucket of cold water.

“Enough!” he shouts. “Can we please get back to work?”

Louis groans dramatically, standing up and offering you a hand. “Fine, Payno. We’ll behave. For now.”

“Behaving’s overrated anyway,” you say, letting him pull you to your feet.

He grins, leaning in just enough to make your heart race. “Spoken like a true partner in crime.”

You smirk back, the flush creeping up your neck impossible to hide. “You couldn’t handle this partnership without me.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before finally letting you go.

As you return to your spot on stage, his laughter still ringing in your ears, you can’t help but feel the familiar thrill that comes with being Louis’s partner in crime. This is just how it’s always been—safe, playful, and light. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

…

The club is alive with pulsing music, flashing lights, and the hum of conversation. The six of you—plus a few crew members—have commandeered a booth near the dance floor, a place to regroup between rounds of drinks and bursts of reckless fun. The night is supposed to be lighthearted, a rare break in the chaos of touring. But your attention keeps drifting toward the bar, where Louis leans casually against the counter, chatting up a pair of girls who can’t stop giggling at whatever he’s saying.

You take another sip of your drink, the sharp burn of tequila doing little to distract you. It shouldn’t bother you. This is Louis, after all—flirty, charming, and always ready to make someone’s night with a cheeky grin. It’s harmless. Always harmless. Just like it’s always been with you and him.

But tonight, it stings.

“You alright there, love?”

Niall’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to find him sliding into the booth beside you, a fresh pint in hand. His blue eyes are sharper than they should be after three rounds, catching onto your mood immediately.

“Fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just enjoying the view.”

Niall snorts, following your gaze toward Louis. “Ah. Him.”

“Him what?” you ask, though your tone is defensive even to your own ears.

“You’re watching him like he owes you money,” Niall says, smirking, but his voice softens when he adds, “What’s going on?”

You hesitate, swirling your drink in your hand. Niall’s always been the one you confide in, the one who listens without judgment. But this—whatever this is—feels like dangerous territory.

“It’s nothing,” you lie.

“Sure it is,” he says, leaning closer. “Come on. You’re never this quiet.”

You glance at Louis again, just in time to see him lean in to whisper something in one of the girls’ ears. Your chest tightens, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“It’s stupid,” you say, setting your glass down with more force than necessary. “I just… I don’t get how he can be like that. Flirting with everyone, acting like it’s all a game.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “That’s just Louis, though. You know that.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, staring at the condensation on your glass. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s ever not a game for him. If he ever actually means it.”

Niall doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Finally, he says, “And what if he does? Would that change things?”

You laugh, though it’s bitter and hollow. “Not for him. He’d still be Louis, and I’d still be the idiot who gets worked up over it.”

“Hey,” Niall says gently, nudging your shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. You care about him. That’s not stupid.”

You look at him, startled by how easily he’s put words to something you’ve been trying to deny. “I didn’t say I care about him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His voice is kind, but it hits you like a punch to the gut. You reach for your drink again, draining the rest of it in one go.

“Okay,” you say, standing up abruptly. “I need another one.”

“Hang on,” Niall says, grabbing your wrist before you can escape. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re already—”

“Drinking?” you interrupt, flashing him a wry smile. “Yeah, I know. That’s kind of the point.”

Niall lets you go, watching as you make your way to the bar. You don’t look at Louis as you order another round, but you can feel his presence—his laughter, his charm—like a static charge in the air.

When you return to the booth, Niall’s still waiting, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell him, you know,” he says quietly.

“Tell him what?”

“Whatever it is you’re feeling. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

You sit down, your drink clutched tightly in your hands. “What if I never am?”

Niall shrugs, his usual easygoing demeanor softening. “Then that’s okay, too. But just… don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? He’s an idiot, but he’d be even more of one not to see how great you are.”

You manage a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade. Across the room, Louis throws his head back in laughter, and you drain your drink, trying not to think about what it would mean if Niall was right.

...

You’re halfway through your drink, the alcohol starting to make the room blur at the edges, when you feel someone slide into the booth beside you. It’s not Niall this time—he’s gone to the bar for another round.

“Having fun, partner?”

You don’t need to look to know it’s Louis. His voice, low and warm, cuts through the haze like a match striking in the dark.

“Loads,” you reply, your tone sharper than you intended. You focus on your glass, not him.

There’s a pause, and then he leans closer, so close you can feel the heat of him against your arm. “What’s got you in a mood, then?”

You scoff, finally turning to meet his gaze. “Why would I be in a mood?”

Louis’s brow furrows, and he studies you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Dunno. That’s why I’m asking.”

You shrug, trying to brush him off. “It’s nothing. Go back to your fans.”

Realization dawns in his expression, and his lips curve into a small smirk. “Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilts his head toward the bar, where the girls he’d been chatting with have moved on. “They’re just fans, love. Took a couple photos, had a laugh. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quickly, taking another sip of your drink.

“Clearly, it does,” he counters, his voice dipping lower.

You glance at him, and the teasing edge in his expression is gone, replaced by something quieter. More serious. It makes your stomach flip, and you hate how easily he gets under your skin.

“I just don’t get how you can do it,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Turn it on and off like it’s nothing.”

Louis stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. Then he leans back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think it’s nothing?”

You don’t answer, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I just… I don’t know. It’s easier sometimes to keep it light, you know? Keeps people from expecting too much.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and you look away, focusing on the dance floor instead. It feels safer than looking at him when he’s being like this—honest and raw in a way that catches you off guard.

Louis follows your gaze, then nudges you with his shoulder. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.”

You blink at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, standing up and holding a hand out to you. “Unless you’re scared you can’t keep up.”

It’s a challenge, one you’d normally accept without hesitation. But tonight, there’s something heavier in the air between you, something that makes you hesitate.

“Louis…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Just one dance, love. For old time’s sake.”

You sigh, finishing the last of your drink before placing your hand in his. His grip is warm and steady as he pulls you to your feet, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music is loud and fast, but Louis doesn’t seem to care. He spins you around dramatically, earning a laugh despite yourself, and when he pulls you close, his grin is infectious.

“There she is,” he says, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, though you’re not sure it’s true.

“No?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are just inches from your ear. “Then what are you?”

The question lingers, hanging between you as the beat of the music thrums in your chest. You glance up at him, your breath catching at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your fingers tighten around his, and you let him pull you closer.

The music is deafening, the bass vibrating through your chest as Louis pulls you closer. The heat of the crowd presses in around you—sweaty bodies moving together in time with the pulsing beat—but all you can feel is him. His hand rests lightly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin where your top has ridden up, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

You match his rhythm, your bodies swaying together as the lights flash and the room spins in a blur of color and sound. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs something you can’t hear over the music. But it doesn’t matter, because the low rasp of his voice alone makes your pulse race.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then slide down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire club has faded away.

He’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. And you can’t look away.

“Louis,” you manage to say, but your voice is swallowed by the music.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you even closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His hand tightens on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin, and it’s almost too much.

The air between you is charged, thick with something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either. And when his lips brush against your temple—soft, almost tentative—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your resolve snaps.

Without thinking, you grab his hand and tug him toward the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until you find a dark hallway leading toward the bathrooms.

“Here?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless as you pull him into the dimly lit space.

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” you reply, your back pressing against the wall as he steps closer, crowding into your space.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on your hips in an instant, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes your head spin. It’s all heat and desperation, months of tension unraveling in a single, searing kiss.

You fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your lips. The sound sends a thrill through you, and you arch into him, gasping when his mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your throat, his voice low and strained.

But stopping is the last thing on your mind. “Don’t,” you whisper.

The noise of the club fades into a dull throb, your pulse pounding in your ears as Louis pulls you deeper into the hallway. His grip is unrelenting, his hand firm around your wrist as he guides you toward the dimly lit bathroom, the air thick with the sharp scent of alcohol and sweat. When you step inside, he doesn’t hesitate. He closes the door behind you with a soft thud, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pulling you toward him, his hands sliding to the curve of your waist.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice low, gravelly, as he looks you over. His eyes darken with something primal, raw. "I need you."

The way he says it—like there’s no choice in the matter, like he’s been waiting for this—makes your stomach flutter with anticipation. Your heart races as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His body presses flush against yours, the heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

You’re suddenly aware of everything—his breath against your skin, the brush of his chest against yours, the sensation of his hands sliding down to grip your thighs as he carries you toward one of the stalls. The door bangs against the wall as he kicks it open with a force that leaves you breathless. You barely register it, too caught up in the way he’s looking at you—so intensely, so urgently—that it’s like the entire world outside has ceased to exist.

Louis doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. He presses you back against the door, and the sharp click of the lock echoes in the small space. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, deliberately, until the cool air hits your skin. The contrast of the cold on your warm body makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of him against you.

"God, you're perfect," he mutters under his breath, his eyes raking over you like he can’t quite believe you’re here. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your pulse spike. He’s everywhere at once—his lips, his hands, his body—leaving no space between the two of you.

His lips trail lower, his breath hot as it brushes against your collarbone, and you can’t help but shiver, arching into him as his hands slip lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips. “Louis,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“You want this,” he says, his voice rough with hunger as he presses his body into yours. His hands slide under your skirt, gripping your thighs, his thumbs brushing the inside of your legs. The sensation sends a shock of desire through you, and you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

You’re both moving instinctively now—his body surging into yours, your hands tearing at his jeans, pushing them down just enough so you can feel the hard line of him pressing into you. You’re both breathless, desperate, as your bodies start moving together, finding a rhythm born from nothing but pure need.

The heat between you is overwhelming, suffocating. You can feel every inch of him against you, your bodies grinding together with a desperation that feels like it's been building for weeks, months even. His lips find yours again, more forcefully this time, his tongue slipping between your lips as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his body.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans against your mouth, his hands moving to the zipper of your skirt, tugging it down, leaving you exposed to him in the dim light.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, but the shock of it only fuels the fire between you. You push him back slightly, giving yourself enough room to pull off your panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. His eyes darken at the sight, and he groans again, his hands trembling slightly as they slide down your body.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mutters as he presses his body into yours again, the door rattling against the force of it. His lips trail down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth.

“You want me?” he asks, his voice low, dangerous, as his hands slide between your bodies, his fingers brushing against you, making you gasp.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, I need you.”

And just like that, he’s pulling you closer, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he positions himself against you. The first thrust is slow, deliberate, but it doesn’t take long for the urgency to take over, for both of you to lose control.

Your bodies move together with a frantic rhythm, the pressure building, tightening, until you feel like you’re going to explode. The sensation is overwhelming, dizzying, and you cling to him, feeling his hands grip your skin like he’s afraid to let go. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear as he buries his face in your neck, his body pressing into yours with every thrust.

The world outside the stall is forgotten—there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rhythm of your bodies, the urgent need to feel more.

When it happens, it’s all at once—the sharp pull of release, the sensation of your body shuddering as he groans your name, the feeling of him inside you. You lose yourself in him completely, and for a moment, the entire world falls away, leaving nothing but the raw, pulsing connection between the two of you.

For a long time, neither of you speaks. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you stand there, still tangled together in the small, dimly lit stall. The air is thick, heavy with the aftermath, and the sound of the club’s music feels distant now, like it belongs to someone else’s world.

Louis rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your hips as if he’s afraid to let you go. His breathing slows, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft, the intensity from moments ago replaced with something else. Something almost tender.

You nod, your hands tracing the lines of his back, still feeling the echo of his touch. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m more than okay.”

And for a brief, fleeting moment, it feels like everything has shifted.

...

The morning light seeps through the curtains, casting pale slivers across the room, and you wake with a pounding headache that has everything to do with last night. As you sit up, stretching stiff muscles, your fingers graze your neck, and you freeze.

You already know what you’ll find. Your stomach flips as you rush to the mirror, pulling your hair away to reveal dark, circular marks. Hickeys. Louis’s hickeys.

Heat floods your face as the memories from last night rush back—his hands on your body, the rasp of his voice in your ear, the way he kissed you like he was starving for it. A shiver runs through you, not from regret, but from how damn good it all was.

Still, the marks are a problem. You grab your makeup bag and get to work, layering concealer and powder until they’re faint enough to be hidden by your hair. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. You can’t let the others see. You can’t let anyone see.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a message from Louis: "You good?"

Your heart hammers as you type back: "We need to talk."

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on his door. When it swings open, Louis is there—hair tousled, barefoot, still half-asleep, but the way he looks at you makes it clear he knows why you’re here.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. Your voice feels thin, unsure, but you force yourself to keep going. “About last night...”

Louis closes the door behind you and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Yeah,” he says slowly, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze of his.

“I woke up with... these,” you continue, gesturing toward your neck. His eyes follow the motion, a smirk twitching at his lips as he realizes what you’re talking about.

“Didn’t think I went that hard,” he teases, but there’s something softer underneath his usual playfulness. “Sorry about that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers brushing over the covered marks. “It’s fine. I covered them up, but, Louis... no one can know about this. The others would never let us live it down.”

Louis straightens, the smirk slipping into something more serious. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably best if we keep it between us.”

The weight of that decision settles over the room, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, Louis lets out a low laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, for what it’s worth... it was a really fucking good time.”

Your breath catches, your heart flipping at the sincerity in his tone. A small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah,” you admit softly, meeting his gaze. “It really was.”

The tension in the room shifts—heavier, but warmer. There’s something unspoken between you, something lingering from last night, but you force yourself to push it aside.

“But it was... a one-time thing,” you say, your voice firmer now. “We were drunk, caught up in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

Louis hesitates, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he nods. “Right,” he agrees, though his voice doesn’t carry the same conviction. “Just a one-time thing. We go back to normal. Friends. Bandmates. No weirdness.”

You nod, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Alright,” you say, standing and smoothing your shirt. “I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

Louis follows you to the door, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Yeah,” he says softly. “See you there.”

You step out into the hallway, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you. The memory of last night burns in your mind, and as much as you tell yourself it was a mistake, a small, stubborn part of you knows it wasn’t.

And as you walk away, you know the secret you’re both keeping won’t be the hardest part. The hardest part will be pretending that you don’t want more.

...

The hotel bathroom feels impossibly small, its tiled walls closing in on you as you stare down at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands. The instructions are simple, straightforward, but they feel like a foreign language as you reread them for the third time.

Niall is waiting just outside, sitting on the edge of your hotel bed. You hadn’t planned to involve him this much, but when you decided to sneak out and buy the test earlier, he’d been the one person you trusted enough to call. Now, as the reality of what you’re about to do looms over you, you’re beyond grateful he’s here.

“Everything okay in there?” Niall’s voice drifts through the door, steady and calm.

“Yeah,” you call back, though your voice wavers. “I’m doing it now.”

“Take your time,” he replies, his tone gentle.

You follow the instructions mechanically, your heart pounding louder with every step. When it’s done, you set the test on the counter, face down, and set the timer on your phone. For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the edge of the sink to steady yourself.

When the timer buzzes, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the test.

“You good?” Niall asks from the other side of the door, the concern in his voice unmistakable.

You take a deep breath and pick up the test. The result is instant.

Pregnant.

The air rushes out of your lungs, and you open the bathroom door without even thinking. Niall is on his feet in an instant, his eyes scanning your face.

“What does it say?” he asks, his voice soft but urgent.

You hold up the test, your hand shaking. “It’s positive,” you whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Niall just stares, processing the words. Then, he crosses the room in two quick steps and pulls you into a hug. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

You cling to him, tears spilling over as the weight of the situation crashes down on you. After a moment, he pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studies your face.

“Do you… know who the father is?” he asks carefully.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “It’s Louis.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth falls open slightly. “Louis?”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound that bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Yeah. It was that night we all went out to the bar.”

Realization dawns in his eyes, and he stares at you like he’s trying to piece it together. “Wait—so… the bathroom stall?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Yes, the bathroom stall,” you say, your voice muffled.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, to your surprise, Niall starts to laugh—a low chuckle that quickly turns into full-on laughter. It’s contagious, and soon you’re laughing too, tears streaming down your face as the absurdity of it all sinks in.

“I can’t believe I’m having a baby that was conceived in a bathroom stall,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head.

Niall grins, his laughter fading into a warm smile. “Hey, at least you’ll have a good story for the kid someday.”

You snort, wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over great.”

As the laughter subsides, Niall’s expression grows serious again. “You're going to have to tell Louis.”

You shake your head, the weight of that reality settling over you. “Not yet. I don’t even know how to tell him.”

Niall squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here, alright? Whatever you need.”

His support steadies you, and you nod, a small spark of determination flickering to life. “Thanks, Niall,” you say softly.

He smiles, giving your shoulder a final squeeze. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

...

The hotel dining room buzzes with the usual morning energy: clinking cutlery, muted conversation, and the aroma of coffee filling the air. You sit with the boys, doing your best to seem normal as you pick at a piece of toast. The nausea has become a constant companion, and exhaustion drags at you more with each passing day.

“Still not feeling well?” Liam asks, glancing at your plate with a worried frown.

You force a smile. “It’s just a bug. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Zayn points out, his tone sharper than Liam’s, though there’s concern in his dark eyes.

Harry leans back in his chair, studying you closely. “You need to see a doctor. You’re barely eating, and you look knackered.”

“Thanks, Harry,” you say dryly, hoping humor will deflect their growing concern.

Louis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout breakfast, lifts his coffee cup to his lips but says nothing. His eyes linger on you, though, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist again, grabbing your mug and taking a sip even though the coffee turns your stomach. “Just need some rest.”

The boys don’t look convinced, but they eventually let it drop as the conversation shifts to tour logistics. When breakfast wraps up, everyone begins dispersing to their rooms.

As you step into the hallway, Niall gently catches your arm. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure,” you say, letting him steer you toward a quieter section of the corridor.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Louis lingers just out of sight around the corner, pretending to check his phone.

Niall keeps his voice low as he speaks. “How are you holding up? Really.”

You glance around nervously, making sure no one is nearby. “I’m okay,” you lie, though your voice wavers. “Just... trying to figure things out.”

He frowns, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got to stop pushing yourself so hard. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

“I know,” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just... it’s a lot, Niall.”

“Have you thought more about telling Louis?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart sinks. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit. “How do I tell him that I’m pregnant and it’s his baby? That it happened in a bloody bathroom stall?”

Niall snorts, though his expression quickly turns serious again. “You’re going to have to tell him eventually. He deserves to know, and you deserve to have his support.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just… I’m scared, Niall. What if he freaks out? What if it changes everything between us?”

“He might freak out,” Niall says honestly. “But he’s Louis. He’ll step up. You’ve got to trust him—and yourself.”

Neither of you notice the shadow around the corner or the way Louis freezes in place, his breath catching as he processes what he just overheard.

“I’ll tell him,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “I just need to figure out how.”

Niall nods, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got your back.”

You manage a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Niall. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the two of you part ways, Louis remains rooted to his spot, his mind racing. He had only stopped to grab his jacket, not to eavesdrop—but now, he can’t unhear what’s just been revealed.

Pregnant. His baby.

The words loop in his mind, crashing over him in waves of shock and disbelief. He grips the wall for support, his heart pounding as he tries to process what this means—for you, for him, for everything.

...

The hotel suite is unusually quiet, the remnants of breakfast scattered across the coffee table as the boys lounge around. You’re absent, having slipped away earlier, and the rest of the group assumes you’re just taking some much-needed time to yourself.

Louis, however, can’t sit still. He paces the room, his jaw tight and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, but one thing is clear: he needs answers.

Niall, sitting on the armrest of a couch, notices the tension radiating off Louis. “Mate, you alright?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

That’s all it takes for Louis to stop pacing and whirl around to face him. “No, Niall, I’m not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharp enough to make everyone else in the room sit up straighter.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks, frowning.

Louis ignores him, his blue eyes locked on Niall. “How long were you planning on keeping it from me?” he demands, his voice rising.

“Keeping what from you?” Niall replies carefully, though his face pales slightly.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Louis shouts, taking a step closer. “I know. I heard you talking to her this morning.”

The room falls into stunned silence, and Zayn and Harry exchange wide-eyed looks.

“What are you talking about?” Harry finally asks, his tone laced with confusion.

Louis doesn’t even glance at him. His focus is still entirely on Niall. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she? And it’s mine.”

Niall’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. The rest of the boys look utterly shell-shocked, their eyes darting between Louis and Niall.

“Is it true?” Liam asks, his voice quieter now, though no less serious.

Niall lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Louis,” he says, his voice firm despite the guilt flickering in his eyes. “She needed time to figure out how to say it herself.”

Louis’s laugh is bitter, almost disbelieving. “Time? You don’t think I deserved to know right away? That I deserved to hear it from her—or at least someone—before overhearing you whispering about it in a bloody hallway?”

“I was just trying to be there for her,” Niall says defensively, standing now to meet Louis’s glare. “She’s scared out of her mind, Louis. This isn’t easy for her.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Louis shoots back, his voice cracking slightly. “Finding out I’m going to be a dad like this?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw.

Zayn leans forward, his brow furrowed. “Wait. Are you saying Y/N’s pregnant, and it’s yours?”

“Yes,” Louis snaps, throwing his arms out in frustration. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Harry sits back, his jaw slack as he processes the revelation. “Bloody hell.”

“Look, I get that you’re upset,” Niall says, his tone softer now. “But she needed time to figure things out. I was just trying to support her until she was ready to talk to you.”

“She should’ve come to me,” Louis mutters, his anger ebbing slightly but still palpable. “I deserved to know.”

“And she knows that,” Niall replies. “But she’s been scared, Louis. She didn’t want to mess everything up. She didn’t know how you’d react.”

Louis takes a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair as he processes Niall’s words. “I don’t know how to react,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This is... massive.”

“It is,” Liam says, speaking up for the first time since the confrontation started. “But it’s not something you have to figure out alone. We’re all here for both of you.”

Louis looks around the room, his frustration slowly giving way to uncertainty. “I need to talk to her,” he says finally, more to himself than anyone else.

“Then do that,” Niall says gently. “But give her some grace, mate. She’s dealing with a lot.”

Louis nods, his expression still tense but less combative. Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving the rest of the boys in stunned silence.

...

You’re standing at the sink in your hotel bathroom, clutching the edge of the counter to steady yourself as another wave of nausea passes. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly, adding to the headache pounding at your temples.

Splashing cold water on your face, you glance at your reflection, pale and drawn. You’d thought you could keep things under control, at least for a little while longer. But the toll on your body is becoming harder and harder to hide.

A knock at the bathroom door startles you. Before you can answer, Louis’s voice cuts through.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.”

Your stomach twists for an entirely different reason now. His tone is firm, no trace of his usual teasing lilt. You grab a towel to pat your face dry, stalling for time.

“I’m fine, Louis,” you call back, trying to sound normal.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and you can hear the resolve in his voice. “We need to talk.”

With a resigned sigh, you open the door. Louis is standing there, arms crossed and a look of determination on his face. The blue of his eyes is intense, searching yours for answers you’re not ready to give.

“Can we do this later?” you ask weakly.

“No,” he says, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I know.”

Your breath catches. “You know what?”

“I know you’re pregnant,” he says, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “And I know it’s mine.”

The air feels sucked out of the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“How—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I heard you and Niall talking this morning,” he admits. “I wasn’t eavesdropping—it just happened. And now I need to hear it from you. Is it true?”

You look down at your feet, your hands trembling. “Yes,” you whisper.

Louis exhales sharply, leaning back against the door as he runs a hand through his hair. “How long have you known?”

“About a week,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I took a test. Niall’s the only one I told.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly. “Why did I have to find out like this?”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you sink onto the closed toilet lid. “I didn’t know how to, Louis,” you confess. “It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up. And I didn’t know how you’d react. I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“No,” you say quickly. “Not of you. Just... of everything. What this means for us, for the band. I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

Louis crouches down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture makes your chest tighten.

“You’re not ruining anything,” he says softly, his voice steadier now. “But you can’t shut me out of this. I deserve to know what’s going on, Y/N. This is my baby too.”

The weight of his words hits you, and you nod, wiping at your eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Louis. I was just... trying to figure it all out.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he says, his hands squeezing your knees gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

You look up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “We might not have planned this, but it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparks in your chest. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Louis stands, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of this bathroom. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to face this alone.

Louis doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you out of the bathroom, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. He stays standing for a moment, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he finally sits beside you, he turns to face you fully, his expression serious but gentle.

“I know this probably feels overwhelming,” he starts, his voice softer now. “But I need you to know something. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

Tears prick your eyes again, and you bite your lip, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “Louis, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts firmly. “This isn’t about what I have to do. This is my baby, and you... you’re everything to me.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He exhales deeply, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “I mean I’ve been in love with you for ages, Y/N. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

“Louis...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a trace of vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s true. I’ve hidden behind all the jokes and the flirting because I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. I thought if I said something, I’d ruin what we have. And then that night at the club happened, and I thought maybe... but you said it was a mistake, and I didn’t want to push.”

You shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I only said that because I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have, just like you were. But I’ve been in love with you too, Louis. For so long.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks utterly stunned. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. “I mean it.”

He lets out a soft, incredulous laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “All this time, we’ve been dancing around each other like idiots.”

You laugh too, though it’s choked with emotion. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, letting the weight of the truth settle between you. Then Louis’s grin turns mischievous, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Can you believe our kid’s going to have the most ridiculous conception story ever?” he says, his voice teasing.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking slightly. “Conceived in a bathroom stall at a nightclub,” you say, shaking your head. “That’s not exactly the romantic story you tell at family gatherings.”

Louis chuckles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “No, but it’s our story,” he says, his tone softening again. “And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

The warmth in his gaze makes your heart swell, and before you can overthink it, you lean in. Louis meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the heated, impulsive one from that night. This one is slow, deliberate, and full of everything you’ve both been holding back.

When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face. “I’m all in, Y/N,” he says quietly. “For you, for this baby. For everything.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but this time it’s one of relief, not fear. “Me too,” you whisper.

The two of you sit there in the quiet, holding each other as the enormity of the moment settles in. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might just be okay.

...

Part 2

[runnning-outof-time]

My Favorite Story | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @peakyswritings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy finds himself spending time in his office for other reasons once he finds out (Y/N)'s interest in the room.

Warnings: smoking

Word Count: 4024

A/N: sorry if this one got a little corny at the end…thanks Reb, for allowing me to put my love of books into a story. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Charlie!" (Y/N) called as she wandered the halls of Arrow House, looking for the small boy whom she was a nanny to. They were currently playing hide-and-seek, and it was the four year old's turn to hide.

She went from room to room, giving each only a quick glance because her opponent was only four after all...he wasn't going to be hiding in any advanced places. She continued on, checking each of the rooms on the first floor (because that's where their playing field was) until she got to the only hallway left. This one held a more formal sitting room, and her employer, Thomas Shelby's, office. She had hoped that Charlie wouldn't have gone down this hall because she knew that her boss was particular about the people he let into his personal office. But with all of the other rooms and hallways checked, she was quickly running out of options.

She checked in the sitting room and found it empty, which left her with one final choice of where to look. The door was also cracked, so there was a good chance that he was hiding in there. Out of all of the rooms in the house...you just want me to get into trouble, don't you? she thought to herself as she approached the door. "Charlie?!" she called out while slowly opening the door, treating it like there was tripwire on the other side and it would set off if she moved too quickly.

Giggles sounded out the second she stepped into the room. They were, of course, coming from the far corner, where the floor-to-ceiling windows were. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. This clearly wasn't one of the rooms she'd been in very much, so it all seemed foreign to her.

Something that jumped out right away was the expansive book collection that lined the walls of the room. Not a single shelf seemed to be empty, and all of the books were organized into neat rows; their spines just begging for her to run her fingers across. She would have thought that she'd died and gone to heaven if she didn't know any better. But she did...and right now she needed to find the child she'd been searching for and get out before it became a personal hell.

"Where are you, Charlie?" she called out as she walked even further into the room. She wanted to smile at his adorable giggles, but the worry of getting caught, and reprimanded kept her strict to her mission of ‘find the kid and get out’.

"You can't see me, Miss (Y/N)," he said in between his giggles, which she now realized were coming from behind the curtains.

"I think I'm getting closer," she told him, only a few steps from his hiding spot now, "hmm...why could there be shoes coming out from under the curtains?" she wondered aloud as she reached out to take hold of the curtains. The giggles quieted down as the child prepared to be found. "There you are!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she pulled the curtain slightly to the side, coming face to face with the beaming boy.

"You found me!" Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"You had a good hiding spot," (Y/N) told him, a smile on her face, "although you should know better than to hide in your father's office," she added, her voice holding a more stern tone.

"It's your turn!" he cheered, unphased by her statement.

The sound of the front door closing rang out through the halls before anything else could be said. (Y/N) stiffened in her spot, knowing that that sound could only mean one thing...

"Daddy!" Charlie yelled as loud as he could before he took off running out of the room.

(Y/N) was still frozen. She wanted to run like hell out of the room and try to make it seem as though she wasn't just in a room that was supposed to be off-limits, but instead her feet stayed glued to the hardwood. The voice of Tommy Shelby came clearly from the foyer, greeting his son and asking him what he'd been doing while he was away.

Hearing him speak made her kick into gear, and she was able to walk the length of the room and reach the door just as she heard footsteps starting to come her way.

"I was playing hide-and-seek with Miss (Y/N)!" Charlie excitedly told his father as he led him down the hall he'd left his nanny in, "and I had a really good spot."

"Did you?" Tommy asked, intrigue present in his voice as he wondered where his son was taking him. When he looked up, he noticed (Y/N) in the process of shutting the door to his office. His eyebrows furrowed at this, trying to remember if he'd locked the door or not when he was leaving this morning.

His office was the one room in the house that he didn't want Charlie roaming about freely in. There were too many bad things held in there for a child to be going through it unattended.

"Where was this hiding spot, eh?" Tommy asked his son when they stopped a few steps away from where (Y/N) was standing.

"I hid behind the curtains!" the boy wasted no time in exclaiming, not seeing any problem in where he'd chosen to hide. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt like she was about to faint as she waited on baited breath for Tommy's reaction to Charlie's answer.

Instead of quickly deciding (Y/N)'s fate, Tommy did one of the things he does best: look to each of the people standing in front of him as he dragged his statement out until it felt like (Y/N) was going to explode from the tension.

"He was...we were in your office, Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry," she admitted, the words rushing out of her mouth before she had much time to process them. She hoped they made sense.

Tommy stayed quiet for a few more moments after she spoke, blinking a few times as he thought her words over. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he thought of the rule that had been broken. Of all people, (Y/N) should have known that Charlie wasn't allowed in his office unattended.

"I've already told him that he shouldn't be going into your personal rooms, but he..."

"Stop," his voice finally broke through her second round of explanations. She closed her mouth as soon as she heard him, holding her breath as she hoped that she'd still have a job after this conversation was over. "There's no need to explain yourself any further," he told her, his voice flat, giving her no indication of what he was thinking.

(Y/N) continued to hold her breath as she watched Tommy turn to look at Charlie. "You should know better than to go into my office when I'm not home, Charles. Next time you listen to what (Y/N) is telling you, alright?" he asked with raised eyebrows, his voice stern.

"Yes, sir," Charlie answered like he knew he was supposed to, nodding his head once.

"Good lad. Go on now...go play in your room," Tommy instructed him once he deemed the boy to have understood the message he was trying to get across.

Charlie turned to (Y/N) before going anywhere. (Y/N) immediately knew that he was waiting for her to join him, but a quick glance at Tommy to see his eyes trained on her made her realize that maybe she should stick around for a few moments longer. "I'll be up shortly, Charlie," she told the boy, who nodded before running past his father to go to his room.

(Y/N) swallowed thickly as she focused on Tommy again, waiting to see if he'd be the first to say something. The anticipation was, once again, killing her.

"He didn't touch anything, did he?" Tommy finally asked; his question being one of the last that (Y/N) expected to come out of his mouth.

"No, Mr. Shelby. Everything was in its rightful place when I entered the room," she assured him.

"Good," he nodded, happy with her answer. "You're able to go with him," he said to her then, stepping out of the way so that she'd have room to pass him.

"That's all?" she asked, the words coming out before she could stop them.

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion upon hearing her statement. "What do you mean?"

"You're not angry at me? I'm not in trouble for entering your office?" she rattled off some of the questions that were circling through her brain.

"I'm not, no," he shook his head, "let's not make a habit of it though, eh?"

"Of course, Mr. Shelby," she nodded, still surprised by how the situation had gone. She was still expecting him to blow his lid on her...it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it to one of his employees. She wasn't about to give him a reason to do so though. "Thank you," she said then, ducking her head before she walked past him so that she could go and be with Charlie again.

Tommy took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as he moved to open his office door. He knew for certain that he would have just had a completely different conversation if (Y/N) hadn't been the one who was closing the door. He'd felt something different towards her from the moment she was hired on as Charlie's live-in nanny a little over a year ago. His son adored her, and he was happy that Charlie would grow up with someone who genuinely cared for him, and who would be able to be with him when his father was away. (Y/N) provided a much needed sense of security for a boy who'd been through so much in his short life so far.

(Y/N) brought something into the house that had been missing. Tommy often wondered if he'd grown a soft spot for her because of how she was with Charlie, or if there was maybe a little more behind the reason.

He sunk into his office chair with a sigh, looking at the picture of his late wife and son as they stared back at him. If only it had been that easy, he thought to himself before grabbing the cigarette tin so that he could take one out and roll it along his lips, but things happen for a reason, right?.

——

(Y/N) knocked on the door to her employer's office, waiting to hear if he was in before entering. His muffled voice calling for her to 'come' came through the mahogany moments later, making her turn the knob and open the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby," she greeted him as she found him sitting behind his desk.

"Hello, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the greeting, "is there something I can do for you?"

"I have Charlie's quarterly report. I figured you'd want it as soon as I was finished with it," she told him, holding the papers up into view.

Tommy nodded at her words. "Let's have a look then," he said, beckoning her over to his desk with a wave of his hand. (Y/N) nodded and walked across the room, stopping in front of his desk so that she could hand him the papers. He sat his glasses on the bridge of his nose before he began looking through them, reading the detailed report of how his son was progressing. "You think he'll be ready to start schooling?" he asked her after a few, quiet moments had passed, glancing up at her.

"I think so, sir. He's a very bright boy," she answered with a nod and a slight smile.

"And everything else seems to be in order...as far as developments go?" he asked another question.

"Yes," she nodded again, "there's even some things he's excelling at," she added, a proud smile forming on her face. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she'd come to love Charlie like he was her own. Spending nearly every day with him had created such a beautiful relationship between the two. She wouldn't know what she'd do without him.

"That's good to hear," Tommy nodded, continuing to look through the papers.

"He should be ready to start school in the fall," she shared the information that had been weighing on her mind, her smile faltering slightly, "and I'll promptly begin work on finding another placement for myself. I'll place adds in the papers, I'll..."

"No," Tommy cut her off abruptly with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head, "I want you to stay here with Charlie."

"He won't need me anymore, Mr. Shelby," she told him, a bit surprised by his interjection.

"Yes he will," he nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, "he's quite fond of you, (Y/N), and I don't want to separate that." We're all quite fond of you, he thought to himself as he studied her face. "I'll continue to pay you, and you'll continue to live here."

"You're serious?" (Y/N) checked, a slight gasp leaving her lips as a smile played on them.

"I am," he nodded again, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on the desk.

"That's so very kind of you...I will tell Charlie of this as soon as he is back from his riding lesson. He will be so thrilled. Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she expressed her gratitude, allowing the smile to take over her features.

"Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the sentiment, "you're free to go," he said then, signaling the end of the conversation.

(Y/N) nodded and turned to exit the room. She walked a few steps before stopping, the shelves of books catching her eye again. She folded her hands together in front of her skirt as she glanced around the room.

"Is there something else you need?" Tommy's voice broke the silence in the room, making her snap from her trance to turn and face him again.

"No, Mr. Shelby, I..." she trailed off, feeling slightly bashful for being caught admiring the books, "I'm just amazed by the amount of books that you have in here," she decided to tell him why she'd stuck around, a soft smile forming on her face after the admission.

"You read?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"I do," she nodded, "I'm slowly running out of material though, and the workers' library that you've so graciously given us only has so many books, so to see these books in here made me..." she trailed off as she realized she was sharing too much information, her face heating up as she looked down at the ground.

Tommy let the silence hang in the air for a few moments as he thought about what she'd said. "Would you want to read in here?" he asked her then, his question making her eyes shoot up to his.

"You'd let me?" she asked, her words coming out in a surprised gasp.

"Yeah," he nodded, his simple response making excitement bubble up inside of (Y/N).

"I'd really like that, thank you, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, expressing her gratitude once more. She swore that she saw the ghost of a smile flash across his lips as he nodded his head again. "I'm going to go be with Charlie now, sir...he should be returning from his lesson any moment." Tommy nodded again at her words, and she finally exited the room, her excitement boiling over as a giddy smile spread across her face. There was nothing she loved more than books.

——

It became a routine for (Y/N) to go into Tommy's study so that she could read every day after that. Tommy would be in the room sometimes, working on whatever it was that he needed to get done. She quickly came to love the peaceful silence that filled the room as they cohabitated in it. Being with him felt comfortable to her...almost as comfortable as it felt when she was spending time with Charlie.

"Do you have a favorite book?" Tommy asked out of the blue one day, his words making (Y/N) look up from the page she was reading.

"I do, yes," she responded, a smile quickly forming on her face at the thought of discussing something she liked, "it's called Walden and it's by an American author named Henry David Thoreau. He writes about being alone and immersed in the wilderness in it...it's always such a mind clearing read," she informed him of her favorite book and explained why it held that title.

"Do I have it?" he asked her, his brows furrowed in curiosity.

"I've not found it on the shelves...it's been a while since I've read it, actually," she answered, remembering clearly one of her first days spent in the room. She was rather bummed when she came up empty in her search.

"Noted," he nodded, picking up his pen and focusing his attention back on the paper in front of him. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at the conversation she'd just had, confused as to why he'd just asked her that out of nowhere. Silence persisted in the room again, so she went back to reading.

——

"You're late today," Tommy commented as he watched (Y/N) enter the room.

"Charles wouldn't settle," she answered him, a slight smile on her face as she tried to push her feelings of nervousness down. She knew it wasn't the case, but she couldn't help but feel like a child who had just been called into the headmaster's office.

"Is he fine now?" he asked her, watching as she skimmed the shelves, looking for the book she'd indulge in that evening.

"He is...he had a burst of energy before bed," she answered, her eyes still focused on the books. Nothing was jumping out at her. She'd just finished a book and was now in that weird in between where she couldn't get interested in something else.

After searching for a few more minutes, (Y/N) gave up with a sigh. She moved over to the couch and sat down, resting her head back against the cushion. "All these books and yet there's nothing to read," she mumbled to herself, staring at the fire.

"Something wrong?" Tommy questioned as he watched her carefully.

"I've got nothing to read," she answered, fully aware of how dramatic she sounded, but yet not caring.

Tommy chuckled at her statement before he stood from his chair. (Y/N) turned her head and watched him as he opened one of the desk's drawers and took something from it before he made his way over to where she was sitting. Her brows furrowed together when she noticed that what he had in his hand looked like a book. Without a word, he sat down next to her and extended his arm with the book in her direction.

"What's this?" she questioned, accepting the book from his hand.

"It came in yesterday...I figured you might want to read it," he answered, giving no explicit clues to her.

(Y/N) sent him a look of confusion, to which he responded with a slight nod, silently telling her to open the book. She listened, and she just about gasped when she opened the cover and read the title page. "You found me Walden?" she asked him, surprise was present in her features when she looked up at him once more.

"I did," he nodded, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he noticed how happy this gesture had made her.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Shelby!" she couldn't hold her excitement back, a wide smile breaking onto her face as she clutched the book close to her.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he said, happy that he'd made her happy. "You can call me Tommy when we're in here...you're not working," he told her then and she nodded, feeling the butterflies react to the advancement.

She eagerly opened the book then, more than ready to dive into Thoreau's words and experience his adventures again. Tommy stayed sitting on the couch, fishing the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could stick one between his lips and strike it with a lighter. He rested his head back against the couch and watched (Y/N) as she quickly became immersed in the world her book's pages held. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt as content as he did now; the last time he rather sit and do nothing instead of continuing on with his work.

"Do you have a favorite story?" (Y/N)'s question broke him from his thoughts, and when he glanced in her direction, he saw that she'd lowered her book and was looking at him.

"My favorite story?" he replied with a question. (Y/N) nodded. Tommy paused for a moment, looking at the fire as he thought it over. He then chuckled slightly before responding, "perhaps it's one that hasn't been written yet."

(Y/N) couldn't believe his reply. She bit on her lip to try and contain the smile that was threatening to form the second after she heard it as Tommy watched her intently for her reaction to his words.

"That sounded a bit soppy, didn't it?" he questioned her after a few moments had passed, taking one last drag from his cigarette before he stamped it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

"Not at all," she answered, biting on the knuckle of her index finger to stifle the giggles that were threatening to escape as she spoke.

Tommy looked at her once he was sitting properly again, admiring her face as she did the same with him. Nothing was said as he then reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. (Y/N) froze slightly at the action, her eyes locked onto his as he gently ran the back of his hand down the line from her cheek to her jaw. His touch made her skin feel like it had been set alight.

"I'm sorry my hair isn't properly done up," she apologized, her voice much softer now.

"Don't apologize," he brushed her off, his voice's tone matching hers. He kept his hand resting on her jaw, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb as he savored the feeling of her soft skin.

(Y/N) hoped she looked calm on the outside, because all of her systems were firing in her brain. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't want something like this to occur between her and Tommy. Her feelings for him seemed to grow with each hour she spent in his study; reading books while he worked. In a way she felt like she had already been with him; like they were a couple who had already settled into a peaceful married life and liked to come together in the evenings and just spent time in the other's presence. She had to keep reminding herself that she was only Charlie's nanny.

But with the way he was acting, she may not only be that for long...

"Would you come to dinner with me?" he asked her after some time had passed.

"You'd want me to?" she shyly asked him, her eyes slightly widening at his offer.

"I would," he nodded, "maybe then I could tell you a bit more about an idea for my favorite story."

"I'd like that," (Y/N) nodded, a smile forming on her face as her butterflies went swarming again, "I'd like to hear more about your favorite story."

Little did she know that his favorite story was the one they were about to write.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

MASTERLIST

[thewritingrowlet]

The Vacation Trip, ft. tripleS Xinyu, Nakyoung

tags: creampie, anal, anal creampie, daddy kink, rough

length: almost 8k

author's note: I'm a Seoyeon bias, bro, how did I end up writing so much of others? Anyway, this is the continuation of The Outing Trip. I decided to write a "sequel" that takes place after the events of The Outing Trip because I'm not ready to end it just yet.

p.s. I will be writing the follow-up to The Loving Wife soon; please look forward to it.

“Baby, we need to sleep soon; we’re leaving early in the morning”, you say to Xinyu, who presses you against the wall as soon as you enter the apartment. “I trust you to wake us up”, Xinyu says before pressing her lips on yours. Xinyu sleeps very well after having sex but struggles to wake up in the morning after, so the fact that she wants to have sex tonight is concerning; you need to pick up Nakyoung before 6 am tomorrow morning and head to the bus station after. “Huh? Kim Nakyoung?”, the voice in your head asks. Yes, Nakyoung, your official side girl who’s been an extra by your side ever since you got back from the outing trip―Xinyu approves of this, just so we’re clear.

“Oppa, you’re not cooperating”, Xinyu complains, “give me your tongue”. You comply to Xinyu’s demand and stick your tongue in her mouth. Xinyu fights your tongue with hers, occasionally letting you win. You shake off other thoughts and decide to play along. You clamp your lips on her tongue and squeeze, surprising Xinyu, who lets out a moan as a response. Xinyu finally breaks the tangle to catch her breath. “Oppa, what the fuck was that?”, Xinyu breathes heavily, “that was so fucking hot”.

You carry her in your arms and take her to the bedroom. “If you can’t wake up on time tomorrow morning, I’m locking you in the apartment”, you threaten her. Xinyu scoffs, “oh, please, you don’t know who I am and what I’m capable of”. Well, you know who Xinyu is and what she’s capable of, which is sleeping in and then waking up at the last minute—you’ll be making her pack a backpack after this so that neither of you will have to worry about it tomorrow should she wake up late. “Sure, baby, whatever you say”, you lift your T-shirt over your head, “are we doing this, or no?”.

Xinyu tells you to get naked entirely before she takes off her clothes. “Oppa, look at me, please”, Xinyu steps away from you while making sure you’re looking at her body. As soon as she unbuttons her shirt, you see the white lace bra she has on, and your hand automatically moves towards your erect cock. Xinyu giggles at you, “you haven’t even seen the whole thing yet, oppa”. “You need to be quick, baby; I can’t fucking wait any more”, you say, your hand busy stroking your cock. You can tell that Xinyu also can’t wait to start the action, but her slender fingers struggle to unbutton her jeans. “Fuck, this is embarrassing”, Xinyu pouts, “oppa, help”. You chuckle as you move to help her, “next time just don’t bother buttoning your pants, hm?”.

Now that Xinyu’s free of her restraining jeans, you can see the matching panties that have a wet spot on them. “Aww, you’re wet”, you touch her over the panties, “on a scale of one to ten, how horny are you, babe?”. Xinyu throws her head back, enjoying the warmup, “a-ah—fi-fifteen”. You pull Xinyu into your lap, your cock hovering above her stomach. You’re aware of how long you are, but the image of touching her cervix with the tip of your cock still gets you every time. “If one day we decide to have kids, oppa, you’ll have no trouble getting me pregnant”, Xinyu says, “now fuck me, please”.

You move Xinyu to the middle of the bed and put her legs on your shoulders—one issue, though: her knees and thighs are closed. “Is something wrong, cutie?”, you ask. Xinyu lifts her butt off the bed and spreads her legs, “you see that, oppa?”. You look down and see a shiny round thing between her cheeks, “is that a plug? Where did you get that?”. “I borrowed it from Nakyoung-ie”, Xinyu says, “I’ve been training my ass so that I can give you my cherry since you weren’t my first”. You’ve never asked Xinyu to train her ass, and you’ve told her that you don’t mind not being her first, so you’re not sure why she has decided to do all this. “Where did this come from, hon? Who talked you into this?”, you interrogate her. Xinyu holds your hands, “Nakyoung-ie looked like she was on cloud nine when you fucked her ass, so I’m curious. Would you fuck me in the ass as well, oppa? You’ll be the first and last person to do so”. You take a deep breath, “sure, if you really want to—but remember this: if I see that you’re in pain, I’m pulling out”.

Xinyu agrees to your terms and shows you her wet entrance, “first things first, oppa”. You guide your cock into her pussy, and Xinyu instantly lets out a soft, whiny moan. “Ah, daddy”, she says softly, “always so good, daddy—fuck”. Making Xinyu scream when in bed is nice and all, but having Xinyu speak and moan softly during sex makes you feel full of love. “Baby, fuck”, you let out a low moan, “I love you so much”. Xinyu pulls you towards her, “I love you too, oppa. You’re always so kind to me”. You chuckle slightly, “I can say the same about you, baby”. Xinyu smiles and pulls you into a kiss, breaking it every odd second to let out moans.

You start moving your hips faster, and Xinyu guides your head towards her neck. “Mark me, oppa; I want to show off to Nakyoung-ie tomorrow”, she says, tilting her head slightly to show you the desired area. You wordlessly grant her request, latching your lips on Xinyu’s neck and start planting hickeys. You notice that Xinyu is starting to breathe faster, and you’d like to think that what you’re doing is satisfactory. “Oppa, I love you so much”, Xinyu says, her chest rising and coming back down repeatedly, “mark me, oppa; make people know that I belong to you”. You’re trying your best to multitask, as you can’t let the tempo of your pumps go down while you’re busy marking Xinyu.

It is when Xinyu announces that she’s close that you stop being a neck painter and straighten your posture. “Let’s cum together, baby”, you say to her. You fold Xinyu in half, pressing her legs against her torso, and turn up the pace. You see her lewd aroused face in between her knees: her mouth is wide open, and her tongue is sticking out, as if trying to lick something. You bring a thumb towards her tongue, and Xinyu starts licking it as if it was your cock.

“Fuck, I’m about to bust”, you murmur. Xinyu retreats from your mouth and lets out a scream. Unlike the resort, your bedroom is soundproofed quite well, so Xinyu can scream until her voice disappears if she wants to. The two of you reach your peak at the same time; you send your load deep into Xinyu, while her entire body shakes violently. “You’re always so good, love”, you praise her as you straighten her legs, “I love you so much”. Xinyu doesn’t say anything back as she’s still busy squirming around, basking in her high. “I-I love you too, oppa”, Xinyu weakly rolls onto her stomach, “I’m out of energy, fuck—let’s save the ass-taking for next time, oppa”.

-

You wake up before your alarm has the chance to ring. When you look to your left, you see that Xinyu is still sleeping rather peacefully. “Love you, babe”, you whisper to her before pecking her exposed forehead. After collecting your consciousness and strength, you get off the bed and walk out of the bedroom.

You can tell by the phone light that someone is lying on the sofa. Whoever is lying on the sofa hears you, “oh, you’re awake—good morning, oppa”. You let out a sigh of relief, “oh, it’s you. What are you doing here this early, Nakyoung-ah?”. Nakyoung walks up to you and pecks you on the lips, “just wanted to make sure you don’t leave without me”. You return the favor and peck her on the lips, “can I entertain you with something?”. Nakyoung points at your morning wood, “can I help you with that, oppa?”. Since Nakyoung is your official side chick, you don’t feel like you’re betraying Xinyu the same way you did with Dahyun. “Yeah, sure”, you take Nakyoung’s hand and walk towards the sofa with her.

Before sitting down, you pull your shorts and boxers down to give Nakyoung access to your erect cock. Nakyoung ties her hair in a bun, thus indirectly showing off her perky tits to you, before getting on her knees. “Thanks for the meal”, Nakyoung licks her lips before taking you in her mouth. “Don’t go too hard; this is still very early”, you say to her. Since her mouth is full, Nakyoung can only hum in response.

Nakyoung starts going down on your shaft, taking her time to make sure she doesn’t choke on it. You stroke the side of her head gently, “you’re such a good girl, sweetie”. Nakyoung has expressed her desire to be called by pet names, but she tends to get overexcited when she hears it. “There’s no need to rush, sweetie; we have time”, you remind her, just in time to stifle her excitement.

“Oppa, cum soon, please. I’m getting tired”, Nakyoung says, snapping you out of your blissful reverie. “I’m pretty close, sweetie”, as soon as you say that, you hear the bedroom door swing open; Xinyu has managed to wake up without help. “Good morning, baby”, you greet the partially awake zombie. Xinyu slowly walks towards the sofa and rests her head on your thigh, not bothering with questioning anything. So here you are: your girlfriend is sleeping on your thigh and her best friend is kneeling in front of you with your cock in her mouth.

In order to get out of this, uh, predicament, you first ask Nakyoung to stop sucking you. You then move Xinyu so that she lies flat on the sofa—earning a grunt of annoyance from her—and puts your shorts and boxers back on. Lastly, you return Xinyu to her previous position and have her put her head on your thigh. Since the sofa doesn’t allow for two people to lie on it at the same time, Nakyoung resorts to resting her head against your other leg. “Girls, we have to leave soon”, you hate to break it to them, but it’s true; the bus will leave at 6:45 and you must be there before 6:15 tops. “Tell that to your sleepy girlfriend. I’m already wide awake”, Nakyoung defends herself.

You guess that Xinyu needs help getting ready, so you get up from the sofa and carry her to the bathroom for a shower. You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “Babe, wake up, please”, you say in a calm tone. To your surprise, Xinyu opens her eyes right away; “I am fully awake, oppa. I just wanted to make sure you’d take care of me”. Xinyu straightens her posture and asks you to help her undress. You unbutton her pajama from the top, “oh, I almost forgot—I love you, baby”. While Xinyu is looking away to hide her blush, you continue unbuttoning her top until you can free her from it. “Fuck, you’re so hot, babe”, you comment, “shame that we don’t have that much time; we could’ve had some fun”. “My heart will explode if you keep saying these sweet things, oppa”, Xinyu pulls down her pants, thus getting fully naked and ready for shower.

You join her in the shower after getting naked, and that is when Xinyu starts teasing you. She keeps touching your cock every now and then and pretends to apologize for “accidentally” touching you. “Babe, I was serious when I said that we don’t have much time. I promise I will entertain all your antics once we get to the resort”, you remind her. Xinyu leans forward and nibbles the side of your neck, “I can tell you’re horny, oppa”. Well, there’s nowhere to hide now, “yeah, I am pretty damn horny right now—I mean, shit, look at you; you’re so hot”.

-

“Remind me where we’re going?”, Nakyoung asks as the three of you walk to find your bus. “The resort where we had our outing trip at”, you see the bus a few meters in front of you, “that’s ours, let’s go”. You approach the bus crew and show him the QR code on your phone. “I know this name”, he says, looking back and forth between you and your name, “you’re from that university, aren’t you?”. You show him a chill face, “that’s true, mister. Now we’re going back there for vacation”. He turns his attention and glances at Xinyu and Nakyoung, “well, it looks like you’re going to have a lot of fun”. “Well, that’s the plan—thanks!”, you say.

You get on the bus after the guy scans your QR code. You tell the girls to sit next to each other and “sacrifice” yourself to sit behind them—most likely with a stranger—since it’ll be safer this way, and obviously they agree. Not long after sitting down, you see more and more people start filling the empty seats behind you. Even after the bus driver has gotten in his seat and started the engine, the seat next to you remains empty. “I guess no one is traveling alone”, you think to yourself. As soon as the bus starts rolling, Xinyu hands you a picture of you and her, “so you don’t forget about me”. You want to laugh but a part of you thinks that this gesture has a deeper meaning, so you simply take the picture and thank her.

-

The bus has gotten on the ferry, which means passengers can get off, just like last time. When you check on the girls, you see that Nakyoung is sleeping and leaning against the window, while Xinyu is listening to music on her headphones. When Xinyu sees you, you gesture to her to follow you off the bus.

You walk with her to the top deck to stretch your legs and get some air. “I have a feeling you want to talk about something”, Xinyu says. “That is true”, you say, so Xinyu moves to lean on the railings next to you. “This love triangle happened with your consent, but I want to ask how you’re feeling about us right now”, you start. Xinyu gazes at the blue sea in front of her as she forms her answer. “Honestly, I feel like you’re starting to forget me, oppa”, Xinyu answers, “this morning wasn’t the first time Nakyoung-ie touched you before me, was it? I guess the whole point is that I’m starting to get jealous”. You subconsciously rub your cheek, as if feeling the pain from Xinyu’s slap from that time. “I’m sorry, love; it was never my intention to put Nakyoung-ie before you” are all you can come up with. “I know”, Xinyu sighs deeply, “just… don’t forget about me, please, oppa”.

“Oh, there you are”, you hear Nakyoung’s voice behind you. You turn around with Xinyu and wrap an arm around her before turning your attention to Nakyoung, “did you sleep well?”. Nakyoung stops a few steps in front of you, “are you two okay?”. You peck Xinyu’s temple quickly, “we had something to talk about, and I think we’re now okay”. Xinyu wasn’t satisfied with a quick peck, so she moves in front of you and comes in for a kiss, subtly reminding Nakyoung that you’re hers. “I love you so fucking much, oppa—you have no idea”, Xinyu says to you, serving as a reminder of her feelings for you. You put a palm on the side of Xinyu’s neck, “I’m marking you tonight, babe”.

Xinyu rolls her eyes when she hears Nakyoung clear her throat behind her. “I won’t forget about you, Naky-yah”, Xinyu turns around and shows Nakyoung a smiling face—a simple front that Nakyoung should be able to see through. Deep inside, you’re worried; what if you’re the cause of a ruined friendship? That would be disastrous, wouldn’t it? Wait, it was Xinyu’s idea to share you with her best friend, wasn’t it? You have all these questions but nothing but time can answer them for you.

-

“Welcome to—wait, I know you”, the same reception desk staff recognizes the three of you, “thank you for coming back, guys”. “It’s nice to be back, miss”, you shake her hand over the desk. You proceed to show her the booking info on your phone, and after cross-checking it with her computer, the staff hands you two keycards—you booked two rooms to “hide” the fact that you’ll be sleeping with two girls. “Keep it down when you do it, okay?”, the staff winks at you, and you feel your cheeks start getting red from embarrassment. “Th-thank you”, you timidly grab the keycards from her before walking away with Xinyu and Nakyoung.

“So, what will we do after this?”, Xinyu asks as she walks next to you towards your room. “109, 111—oh, here, 115 and 117!”, you ignore Xinyu momentarily as you read the room numbers, “one second, sweetie”. You hand Nakyoung the extra keycard and tell her to go in her room while you try and get in yours. After hearing the door unlock, you pull Xinyu by her wrist and enter with her. You close the door behind you—you make sure Nakyoung can’t disturb you for now—and lean against it. “Babe”, you turn her face towards you, “I love you so fucking much”. Xinyu giggles as her cheeks start turning red, “that was so random, oppa”.

You lift Xinyu by her thighs and carry her towards the bed for some intimacy. “Fuck, I wish I knew other ways to express love other than sex—I’m sorry for being such a boring person, baby”, you admit your cluelessness. Xinyu puts her hands on either side of your face—her hands feel particularly soft today. “I mean, I’m horny for you 24/7, oppa”, Xinyu giggles cutely. You were about to start undressing when you heard your stomach rumble. “Let’s get something to eat, babe; we can’t have sex on an empty stomach”, you say to Xinyu while pulling her onto her feet. Instead of walking towards the door, however, Xinyu opts to hug you tightly. “Oppa, I love you soooo, soooo much. Please don’t forget that”, she says in a small, soft voice. “I was about to say how could I ever forget but I remembered that I literally cheated on you”, you chuckle, amused by your terrible, cherry-picking memory, “no, babe; I will never forget how much you love me”.

Xinyu pulls away from the hug with a smile on her face, but she hasn’t had enough of you just yet. “Your first load is mine, oppa”, she demands with an alluring lick on the lips. “If we weren’t in college, I wouldn’t bother with the pills”, Xinyu piles on, and admittedly, you’re very tempted. “Babe, let’s not be reckless”, you try to stay solid. “Don’t lie to yourself, oppa”, Xinyu smirks naughtily, “we both know we want it—just say the word and I’m yours”. You shut your eyes tightly; it’s very hard to not waver right now, but you—and Xinyu—know that it’s simply too risky and irresponsible. You take a deep breath as you think that you’ve found the perfect reply for her. “Love, I promise that we’ll talk about this one day—y’know, when we’re in a much more comfortable situation and so on”, you hope that Xinyu accepts this reply, because you’re stumped and can’t come up with anything better than this. Xinyu pecks you once and follows it up with a giggle, “sure, oppa”.

-

You break the kiss when you hear someone knock; “fucking shit timing”. Xinyu pinches your cheek softly, “it was your idea to have food sent here, oppa”. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “yeah, I know—come, let’s eat”. You close your eyes and walk around the room a little bit to lull your boner before answering the door. You take the plates from the staff’s hands and put them on the table. “One chicken cordon bleu for you, and one tenderloin steak for me”, you move Xinyu’s plate closer to her and start eating right away.

When you look to the side, you see that Xinyu is already halfway through her meal. “Eat faster, oppa. We have things to do”, she comments on your eating speed. “Fuck this shit”, you put down your utensils and start undressing, unable to hold your horniness back. Seeing you undress makes Xinyu want to follow suit, so she stops eating and takes off her clothes. “Oppa, fuck me—fuck, I want you so fucking bad”, Xinyu begs, as if it’s not clear as day already. You ask her if she wants to suck your cock first, but she firmly declines. “I want you somewhere else”, she says.

Xinyu pushes you onto the bed with all her strength. Sure, she’s not that strong compared to you, but your dramatization is enough to boost her confidence—you’re like a lion and Xinyu is your cub. Xinyu presses down on your wrists that are sitting idle next to your head, “you’ve fucked me countless times, but it’s now my turn to fuck you”. Seeing Xinyu be dominant arouses you beyond help, “fuck me, baby. Show me what you can do”. Xinyu moves her hips around and welcomes you in with ease. “Look, daddy; no hands—ow, fuck”, she yelps, overwhelmed by her own overexcitement.

Xinyu chants your name as she bounces on your cock. “I’m so lucky”, she says with troubled breaths, “you’re so fucking big, daddy”. You’d think that she has gotten used to your size at this point, but you welcome her effort to inflate your ego with open arms nonetheless. You know Xinyu can’t multitask when she’s impaled by your cock, and you can feel her grip on your wrists loosening. You free your wrists easily and pull her down to you, as you’re eager to become a neck painter again. “Yes, yes, fuck—mark me, daddy”, Xinyu eggs you on. Having your lips on her neck excites Xinyu even more, as proven by how she picks up the pace.

“I’m so close already, daddy—how am I so close already, fuck”, she announces to you. You decide to help her cum by matching her pace and meet her in the middle. “Let’s go, baby; let’s cum”, you groan, “fuck, you’re so good at this”. Xinyu removes you from her pussy with a scream, and you feel her juice splashing on your cock and thighs. “Fuck, what a good girl”, you praise her. Xinyu presses her face against your chest and screams more as she rides the high of orgasm until the end. To your surprise, Xinyu plants her teeth into your chest. “Babe, that hurts”, you grit your teeth in pain, “please, babe”. “Sorry, oppa; I just didn’t feel like screaming too loudly”, she says. Xinyu chuckles and points at the teeth mark, “I guess that’s my new mark”.

You don’t bother waiting for Xinyu to calm down and roll over until you’re on top. “You’ve had your fun, haven’t you?”, you move your face close to hers, “my turn now”. Xinyu tries to halt you, but since you’re impatient (and she did not say her safe word), you ignore her. You start thrusting into Xinyu at a high pace, and you see Xinyu’s eyes start rolling towards the back. You want to make sure the stimulation is maximized, so you latch your lips onto one of her tits and play with it. You retaliate against her for biting you in the chest by (lightly) biting her nipple, and Xinyu responds by screaming. “We’re even now”, you chuckle, “fuck, you’re so tight, babe”.

“Babe, babe”, you try to get her attention, “I’m so close”. Xinyu, in her highly stimulated state, weakly sticks out her tongue as if asking for a kiss, so you do as she asks. Now that you’re close to her face, you can hear her quiet moans. “Daddy, please”, she whispers between moans, “in-inside”. That’s as explicit of a consent as it gets, and you don’t bother asking twice. “Oh, fuck”, you let out a low moan as you release your first load of the day deep into Xinyu, granting her wish from earlier. “I love you so much, daddy”, she weakly says. “I love you more, baby girl”, you reply.

You gather your strength and lift Xinyu up while making sure you don’t pull out of her pussy. “W-where are we going?”, Xinyu’s battery is very low right now, and her voice is barely audible. “I don’t want to make a mess on the bed, babe”, you carry her towards the bathroom where she can safely leak out the excess cum. You sit on the toilet and pull Xinyu off your cock, and unsurprisingly, cum starts dripping out. “Let’s shower while we’re here, babe”, you tell her. “I’m going to need some help with that—I can’t feel my legs”, she replies.

You gently put her down on the floor right under the shower and get to her eye level. “Thank you for the cum, oppa”, Xinyu says with a smile, her eyes barely open. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie”, you pet her head, “you’re always so good”. You leave her sitting on the floor to get the soap and shampoo from the cabinet, and that is when you hear Xinyu scream. In a moment of shock, you see that she’s touching herself while squirting hard; her legs are shaking, and her eyes are rolling backwards again. “Yellow, yellow! Daddy, please; yellow!”, Xinyu chants her safe word in panic when she sees you approaching. “Baby, baby, hey”, you soothe her, “we’re done, babe; there’s nothing to worry about”. You pull Xinyu into a hug, “you’re okay, baby—we’re okay. I won’t hurt you”.

You notice that her breathing gradually calms down and returns to its normal pace. “I-I’m sorry, oppa; I just couldn’t take more”, Xinyu says. You reject her apology because there’s nothing to be sorry for to start with; “let’s get cleaned up, hey?”.  You pull Xinyu onto her feet and have her lean against the wall, “I hope your legs are strong enough to support you, babe”. “I hope so too”, she sighs, “how do you do this to me all the time, oppa?”. “Excuse me, babe”, you start running your soapy hands on her body, “yeah, I mean, I’m just me. It’s you that react so well to everything I do”.

-

As you’re walking out of the bathroom with Xinyu in your arms, you hear someone knock at the door. When you look through the peephole, you see that it’s Nakyoung. “One second!”, you yell out. You put Xinyu down on the bed and put on your shorts and boxers before opening the door. “Hi there”, you greet Nakyoung as she enters your room. “Oppa, I’m hungry”, Nakyoung whines, “buy me food, please”. You walk away from Nakyoung to help Xinyu get dressed up. “You can get room service if you want”, you say to Nakyoung as you’re tending to Xinyu. Xinyu then points at Nakyoung while giggling, and when you turn around, you see that she’s eating your and Xinyu’s leftovers. “Are you sure you want to eat that?”, you ask. “Eh, I don’t see why not”, Nakyoung shrugs, and you’re left with no choice but to let her do what she wants.

While Nakyoung is busy finishing your food, you pull Xinyu into your arms for a warm cuddle. “I love you, darling”, you whisper to Xinyu. “I love you more, oppa”, she whispers back with a cute smile on her face. You put a hand on the small of her back and start petting her; “God, you’re so beautiful, baby”. “Xinyu hides her pink cheeks by tucking her head under your chin, “th-thank you, oppa—I swear, you’re so random sometimes”. You quickly glance at Nakyoung and see that she’s still busy eating/being on her phone, so you let her be until she announces that she wants something else.

-

You open your eyes slowly as your soul returns to you. Three of your senses confirm Xinyu’s presence, and it helps put your mind at ease since you have a habit of panicking when you wake up without Xinyu. “Babe?”, you lightly slap her butt to get her attention. Xinyu lets out grunts and hums as she gathers her consciousness. “What?”, she weakly asks. “Let’s wake up, babe; save the sleep for later, hm?”, you point at the clock, “don’t you want to get dinner?”. “Help me wake up”, she says, but instead of letting go of the cuddle, she wraps her limbs more tightly around you.

You try spraying kisses on her head, but Xinyu doesn’t budge. You try offering to have sex after dinner, but Xinyu still doesn’t budge. You resort to your last trick, “okay, fine. I’ll just have dinner with Nakyoung-ie”. Triggered, Xinyu moves to sit on your lap and chokes you with both hands, “the fuck did you just say?”. “I-I’m sorry”, you hold her forearms and try to free yourself from her grip, “ugh—ba-babe, p-please”. Xinyu lets go of your neck and delivers a warning, “do not say such thing again. It’s already hard enough for me to share you with her—I’m not letting her steal you from me”. You close your eyes as you try and control your breathing, “I-I’m sorry, baby. I-I just wanted to ha-have dinner with you—fuck—I-I didn’t mean to offend you”. Xinyu rubs your cheeks gently as a gesture of apology, “I’m sorry, oppa. I didn’t mean to choke you like that—I was triggered, though”.

After getting yourself together, you sit on the edge of the bed and ask Xinyu to sit on your lap. “Baby, were you serious about that? You hate sharing me with Nakyoung-ie?”, you ask. Xinyu nods while looking away, “I thought it would be fun but now I just get jealous more than anything”. “Do you want to talk about this with her?”, you offer her a solution. “What if she leaves us? I don’t want to lose a friend”, she argues. “I think she’ll understand”, you argue, “if she chooses to leave us, then let her—if I were to choose, I’d choose you over her”. Xinyu goes silent as she considers your idea. “Fine”, she sighs, “just not tonight, oppa. We already came all the way here; let’s not ruin the mood for her and ourselves”. You smile and pull her in for a kiss to remind her that she’s your number one. “Let’s have dinner, babe”.

-

Xinyu moves her chair closer to you so that she can lean against your shoulder. “Oppa, I’m so sorry for hurting you”, she whispers while taking your hands in hers. “Hurting me?”, you realize that she’s referring to choking you earlier, “oh, it’s okay. It was wrong of me to say such thing—didn’t know you had it in you like that, though”. Xinyu keeps on spamming you with apologies, and you patiently reply to each one with “it’s okay, baby”. “Babe, look”, you point at the waiter who is on his way to your table, “our food is here”.

Your food is indeed here, and so is Nakyoung, as you see over the waiter’s shoulders that she’s walking towards you. “Hi”, she waves, seemingly in low spirits, “having dinner?”. You invite her to take a seat at your table, “are you okay? You look a bit down”. Nakyoung imitates Xinyu: she moves her chair closer to you and leans against your other shoulder. “I’m not feeling well and you’re ignoring me”, she complains, “can I not have you for a moment? Xinyu-yah, can I be with oppa for a bit?”. You take a quick look at Xinyu and see that she’s giving you a nod of approval. “We’ll go to your room after this, okay? Go order something, sweetie”, you say to Nakyoung, and she walks towards the register with heavy steps to order something for herself.

You and Xinyu start eating first since your food is already on the table. Nakyoung, who hasn’t had enough of you yet, wraps her arms around the lower part of your torso and tucks her head somewhere between your chest and abdomen. You try to guess Xinyu’s feelings by observing her facial expressions, and you see that she has a neutral face on right now; “this should be okay”, you think to yourself. You’re not entirely satisfied with your assessment, so you pick up some spaghetti from your plate and guide it towards Xinyu’s lips. “Choo-choo, baby”, you say as your spoon gets closer to her mouth. “Oh, it’s working!”, you say internally as Xinyu takes the food from your spoon and munches with a smile on her face.

-

You stop in front of Nakyoung’s room and exchange farewells with Xinyu; “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby”. Xinyu nods and tells you to take care of Nakyoung and help her feel better. “Of course, love”, you say with a smile that says, “I understand my duty”. Xinyu returns the smile to you before going in her (your) room.

You enter Nakyoung’s room with her after having her unlock it, and as soon as you’re in, you lift Nakyoung by her butt and carry her to the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”, you ask her. “Two things, oppa”, Nakyoung puts up two fingers in front of you, “I want attention, and I’m horny”. You smile lovingly, “let’s tackle one issue at a time, hm?”.

You move to the middle of the bed and pull her into a seated cuddle. You notice that Nakyoung is pouting; “oppa, do something”. “Before we do anything, I need to ask”, you hold her chin and turn her face towards you, “why did you choose to be my side chick? We both know you deserve to be someone’s number one”. Nakyoung takes your hand and moves it to her cheek, rubbing her face against it like a cat. “Why would I be someone’s number one when being your number two gets me everything I want?”, she says. You’re not sure what she meant by that, so you ask her to explain. “First and foremost, you are kind and respectful to me”, she starts, “secondly, you know how to use your cock—that’s all I want right now”. “Yeah, but like, I can’t give you undivided attention because I have Xinyu”, you argue. Nakyoung shrugs, “I’ve been your third wheel for so long, I’ve gotten used to not having your full attention”.

You’re not sure how to react to that, thus staying silent as you try and think about it. “If you’re still having doubt, oppa, we can talk about it”, she says. “One day, sweeheart—not today”, you say with a smile, “you said you want attention? What kind?”. Nakyoung tightens her arms and legs around you, “stay with me tonight, oppa; we can have sex later if you want. I’ll return you to your girlfriend tomorrow morning”. “A little correction, if I may”, you say in a soft tone, “you’re the one who controls the sex, not me. If you’re not in the mood, we don’t have to—there’s no issue with that, you know”. “Sure, whatever you say”, she chuckles, “see what I mean? Always so respectful, especially when it comes to sex”.

As you move to lie down with Nakyoung, your brain starts wondering how you got this mindset, and your best guess is it came from your parents. You’ve seen how your dad treats your mom with respect and kindness when you were growing up, and that’s probably how your brain picked up the lesson. “I know that look”, Nakyoung says, “you’re thinking about something”. You blink rapidly to turn your focus back on her, “uh, yeah. I was just thinking about my parents”. She tilts her head in confusion, “what about them?”. You sigh, “I hope they’re proud of how I’ve turned out as a man”. She puts her head on your chest, “I’m sure they are; you are a good person. I mean, shit, look at Xinyu: she’s been so loyal to you because of who you are as her boyfriend—well, your little oopsie with Dahyun-ie was your first fuck-up of the relationship”. “Oh, right, Seo Dahyun”, you think to yourself, “I need to make it right with her one day”.

-

“Fuck, who am I kidding?”, Nakyoung straddles you quickly, “oppa, I want you”. “Huh?”, you were ready to go to sleep, but the narrator had other plans, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung slaps you, “sorry for that, but you need to get your head in the game”. Nakyoung takes off her T-shirt and tosses it over her head. “Touch me, oppa”, she grabs your hands and places them on her covered tits. Even behind bra, Nakyoung’s tits are very soft. As you’re playing with her tits, Nakyoung starts humping your crotch. Yearning for more stimulation, she takes off her bra and throws it away; “more, oppa”. You pinch her erect nipples, “is this your idea of attention?”. Nakyoung nods, “fuck, I want your cock so bad”.

Earlier, you’ve made it clear to her that she’s the one who controls the sex, and since she’s now made it clear that she wants to have sex, then what option do you have other than to oblige? “If you want something, cookie, come get it”, you tease her. Nakyoung responds by sloppily dragging your joggers off your legs, revealing the boxers underneath it. She moves down so that her face hovers over your crotch, “may I, oppa?”. You give her your approval in the form of an encouraging nod, so Nakyoung grabs the waistband and pulls down hard. “Look at you”, she starts stroking your cock, “so hard and big—all for me”.

Nakyoung parts her lips and takes you in her mouth, and you can’t help but sink your head into the pillow. “Fuck, so good”, you murmur. Nakyoung asks for your attention by tapping the side of your thigh, and when you look down, you see that she’s gradually going down on your cock while maintaining eye contact. You’re getting impatient, but like you’ve said earlier, she controls the sex—not just the “when”, but also the “how”. You let praises fly out of your lips, hoping that they’ll rile her up more, and it seems to be working. She face-fucks herself rapidly, ignoring the risk of choking on your cock. You pet the side of her head, “you’re doing great, baby—oh, fuck”.

You’re surprised when Nakyoung decides to let you go from her mouth. “No, don’t cum yet; I want it somewhere else”, she says. “Yeah? Where?”, you ask, getting impatient. She asks you to get off the bed before getting on her hands and knees. “In my ass, please”, Nakyoung says, wiggling her butt left and right to tempt you. You don’t want to hurt her, “do you have lube?”. She shakes her head, “I don’t care if it hurts—I’m yours anyway”.

Your cock is already coated by her spit, so you use yours to lube her rear entrance. Nakyoung jolts in surprise, “oh, fuck, I thought that was your cock”. You ask her one more time if she’s sure, but she still doesn’t falter. You spread her cheeks to reveal your target. Before you start, you ask Nakyoung what her safe word is, to which she replies that she doesn’t need one. “Fuck me, please”, she says. You place a finger on her asshole and rub it in circles before slowly penetrating her rear with it. “Fuck, why wouldn’t you just fuck me?”, Nakyoung airs her annoyance. You pull out your finger out of her ass, “you want to get fucked? Fine, let’s do it”.

You spread her ass with one hand and use the other to guide your cock towards her asshole. Nakyoung starts panting when your tip touches her. “If you want to back out, say it now”, you warn, ready to force your way into her forbidden hole. “Do it”, Nakyoung whispers as she braces for the pain. You’re not that experienced in anal sex, but you know that nervousness doesn’t help with penetration. You pull Nakyoung’s torso towards you and into a sitting position. You then grab her chin and come in for a kiss. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt that much”, you assure her, and she seems to be reacting well to your words.

Nakyoung shows you the green light once again in the form of spreading her cheeks for you, and now that your target is clearly in sight, you’re ready to start. You grab your cock and push forward until the tip is in, earning grunts of pain from Nakyoung. “Relax, baby—fuck, you’re so tight”, the sensation her rear is giving you makes you groan, but you don’t want to stop here; you grab Nakyoung’s waist and pull her down so that more of your shaft enters her ass. “Ngh, ngh”, Nakyoung can only groan as her muscles are stretched by your girth. “Oh, God, you’re so deep in me, daddy”, she finally manages to say something after your shaft is almost entirely inside her.

Nakyoung understands that she can’t scream out loud, so she falls face first onto the pillow and uses it to muffle her noises. “Ahng—I-I’m ready”, she says with troubled breaths, “fuck-fuck me”. You make sure your posture is perfect for doggy, and for good measure, you slap her butt a few times, “I’m going”. Once Nakyoung is face down on the pillow, you start pulling back from her ass until only your tip is inside. You hear Nakyoung say something into the pillow, so you lean forward to check if she said her safe word, “what’s that, baby?”. She lifts her face off the pillow and pecks you on the lips, “fuck me, daddy; make me take it—gape me”. You smile naughtily in response, “bet”.

You return to your previous posture and slap her ass a few times, “I’m going again, baby”. Nakyoung scrunches her face in pain, “oh, fuck, my ass—p-please be gentle”. You give her a nod before pushing deeper into her overwhelming tightness; “fuck, this must hurt for you”. “Fuck, fuck!”, Nakyoung screams in pain, “I-I—fuck, just-just make me take it!”. You’re not sure what is causing her to be so determined, but since she’s still consenting to this, it’s in your best interest to keep playing along; “if you say so”.

“I wonder what it’ll be like if I go fast”, a reckless thought enters your mind, “only one way to find out”. Driven by said recklessness, you plant your knees into the bed and hold Nakyoung by the waist, “be good, baby”. “Huh? OH, FU—“, Nakyoung bites the pillow to suppress her scream—you’re fucking her asshole as if it were her pussy: fast and deep. “Fuck, this is crazy”, you comment with a grunt, “how are you taking me like this?”. If Nakyoung’s face wasn’t flat against the pillow, her screams would be heard all the way to the reception desk. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, “hah, fuck—how are you feeling, baby?”. Nakyoung lifts her face slightly, and you see that tears are running down her face. “It hurts, daddy—fuck, it hurts so bad”, Nakyoung says weakly, “I love it”. You pause your thrusts due to the shock, “you love it? Did I hear that right?”. Nakyoung doubles down on it with a smirk, “I love taking you in my ass, daddy”.

“She’s in pain but she said she loves it—ah, fuck it; let’s keep going”, you throw the last bits of doubt out the window and continue fucking her ass, eager to get an orgasm from it. “I’m not pulling out, by the way”, you say to her. Nakyoung straightens her back and leans against your body, “c-can we change position, daddy? I-I want to see you—please!”. You agree to her request and pull out momentarily to switch to missionary—oh, my, it’s so tight! “Like this, baby?”, you hover over her and ask to make sure that this position is satisfactory. Nakyoung grabs your chin and pulls your face towards her for a deep kiss. You try pulling away, but she chases you and invades your mouth space with her tongue.

After having had enough of you, Nakyoung breaks the kiss with a gasp. “Oppa, listen to me, please”, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down after the kiss, “I’m submitting myself to you”. You blink rapidly, acting like you were confused, “excuse me?”. Nakyoung puts on a pout when she sees that you didn’t pick it up the first time. “I hate you sometimes”, she huffs, “I said I’m submitting myself to you—I belong to you now”. You know where she’s going with this, but surely it doesn’t hurt to act like a fool every now and then; “but you’ve been by my side for a while now, no?”, you ask with a straight face. She swaps her pout with a frown, “you’re not cooperating right now, seriously—tell me, which part of it do you not understand?”.

You sneakily move a hand towards her tits and pinch a nipple, thus earning a gasp from Nakyoung, “oh, I understand, baby—I was just playing”. “I hate you”, Nakyoung gasps again when you pinch her other nipple, “f-fuck me again, please”. Ass-to-pussy doesn’t sound too hygienic, so you return to her ass, which welcomes you more easily than before. “Yes, daddy, yes”, she sticks her tongue out very lewdly, “I’m yours, I’m yours—fuck, I’m your bitch”. Hearing her refer to herself like that stuns you for a millisecond, but your guess is that it was the heat of the moment (or the heat in her ass) that caused her to say that.

“I think I’m close”, you announce to her while still maintaining a consistent pace of thrusts. “I want to cum with you, daddy—oh, God, my ass”, Nakyoung puts a hand on her pussy and starts touching herself, aiming to cum together with you. You grab her ankles and put them on each shoulder as you put your back into fucking her properly. She uses her free hand to cover her mouth in case orgasm hits.

“FUCK!”, you exclaim as you bury your cock deep in her rear and blow your second load into her. In the moment of drowsiness, you feel Nakyoung’s juice hitting you in the pelvis. “Heh, heheh”, Nakyoung laughs weakly, “Xinyu is missing out”. You shake your head rapidly to regain focus, “really? You still have the energy to think about Xinyu?”. Nakyoung doesn’t answer, and instead asks you to pull out of her ass. “Oh, fuck, finally”, she sighs in relief, “how does it look, daddy?”.

You move backwards a bit to inspect your work; “gaped—you’re so fucking gaped”.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Espresso or Coors? – Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 (Fluff – strong language, drug usage, and drinking)

Frat!Rafe x PianoBar!Reader

+18

🪄 soft!frat!rafe, swearing, name-calling, smoking, drinking, Rafe & reader’s POV

📖 Frat!Rafe gets talked into going to a dueling piano bar. He’s not happy about it but when he sees you in the alley, walking in for your shift, everything changes. From that point on he tries all night to get your attention 💕

✨Kelce: yo

Topper: that's her???

Kelce: look at his face

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I take a deep breath, collecting myself before burying my beer, quickly ordering another. Be cool.

Rafe: that obvious?

Kelce: very

Rafe’s POV:

“5th and main?” The Uber driver drones.

“Yup. Thanks, man,” Topper chirps, stepping into the back seat before me. The Uber XL fills with people, as many as possible. I slide into the back; some sorority girl instantly falls onto my lap. Her tanned body mashes against my white button-down, making me tug at my fabric to check if that shit was staining before throwing the fit I wanna throw.

“Top, you short on cash these days or what? Why couldn’t we get another van, asshole?”

“There’s another comin’. You coulda waited,” Topper sighs, half-listening, concentrating more on the girl sharing a seat with him. “Plus, it looks like you made out just fine,” he cracks up, watching the girl staring up at me, her sticky glossed lips pressing against my neck soon after. I pinch my eyes shut, focusing on anything but this. Yeah, I’m not drunk enough for this.

“It’s called the Dueling Keys. Tell her we’re going to Dueling Keeyyyss,” one of the girls slurs into her phone to a friend on the other line.

I groan and grumble, “I thought we were going to Copperhead. What the fuck, Thornton.”

Topper lifts his hands, pleading innocence. “That’s where we were going, bro. Ask the man.” He motions to the driver, who’s lost in his own world, tuning out the nightmare in the back of his van entirely.

“It’s across the street, Rafe. It’s a piano bar. We always start there because they have $3 Long Islands,” Cassie adds calmly, my favorite of the sisters, the only sober one in the group.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” I sigh, taking out my phone, making myself look busy.

“You smell so good, Rafey,” the drunk girl in my lap mutters as she plays with the top button of my shirt “sensually,” tugging it open before working on the next.

“That’s enough,” I sigh, resting my hand over the top of hers, giving it a little pat. “Thanks.”

We pull up to College Street, cool air replacing the thick, booze-ridden fog of the van. I walk out fast, putting space between me and the girls. I need some fuckin’ air, but they follow me. “I’m takin’ a piss,” I yell back at the two tagging close behind.

“You need help or-” One of them grins, making the other giggle and squeal. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

I walk to the end of the building, fading into the alley, resting my back against the cool brick wall, finally feeling peace. The other van rolls up; Kelce, steps out of the ride with a girl on each arm, thoroughly relishing this shit. I pluck a joint out from behind my ear, flicking my lighter a few times before it takes, ripping a hit. Thick smoke rolls in my mouth, pouring from my lips as I look out at the mess of college student coming in and out of bars.

“Thank you, Donnie,” my head turns in the opposite direction, catching sight of a woman walking toward the side door. She smiles at the security guard, her little heels clicking along the pavement, hair bouncing with every step.

“Babygirl,” the man booms merrily, making her beautiful eyes sparkle. “How are you doin’ this evening. You look as lovely as ever.”

“Thank you,” she smiles. Her spangly pink dress sways with every step as she goes up the steps ‘til she’s gone, disappearing into the bar.

“Hey, man… Does she work-”

“Stop right there,” the bouncer warns, taking a few steps closer. “I don’t need some drunk frat boy causin’ trouble in my alley. Get the fuck outta here,” he spits, looking back at me like I’m trash.

“Sorry. I’m just-”

“Smokin’ weed? Takin’ a piss? I heard it all, Chad. Y/N doesn’t want your messy ass.”

Well shit… I smile, ashing out the joint as I catch her.

“What are you smilin’ for, boy? Get! And pick that shit up. Do I look like your maid or somethin’?” He barks as he points to the joint on the ground, making me roll my eyes before picking it up.

“Have a nice night, Donnie,” I mumble, giving him the finger as I foot away.

My nerves start to rise, my night taking a turn. I double-check my shirt again for an orange stain, smoothing it out before adjusting my hat. She has to be a bartender, a cocktail waitress, maybe? I position myself away from the Delta Gammas, joining the group of boys in the back of the line.

We shuffle to the front, the music getting louder and louder as we get closer to the door. I pass a bouncer my ID, impatiently waiting to get inside. Luckily, I’m a head taller than most, surveying the scene, following the traffic flow from the entryway to the bar floor. Top flags me down, but I look past him; he and Kelce, lost in a sea of females. I wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance in there. Not if I want her to notice me.

Perfect. I slide into a booth with a group of my younger brothers, the four of them equally surprised that the kook trio got split. “A Coors, please. N’ you can start a tab for the table. Thanks,” I pass the cocktail waitress my card as my phone buzzes.

Topper: we good

I look down at the text message from Top, rolling my eyes.

Kelce: you bein a bitch for a reason or what

Rafe: ill tell you later

Kelce: so ur pissed

Rafe: I’m not fuckin pissed

Topper: you seem upset

Rafe: shut the duck up

Rafe: fuxk

Rafe: fuck

Kelce: how drunk are you 😂

Rafe: leave me alone alright. There’s a girl somewhere around here and she’s perfect and I don’t want these girls fucking it up for me

Topper: oh that’s great buddy

Kelce: congrats man

Rafe: keep them over there

Piano music fills the space around us, silencing the crowd before a swell of applause comes in it’s place. I look up from my beer, seeing the same beautiful girl from the alley behind the piano, canceling out all my previous assumptions. Fuck. I lift my drink to my lips, catching my hand shaking slightly. She leans into the microphone, her smile lighting up the room, drumming up further applause. “Dueling Keys, how are we feeling tonight?” She lets the cheering die down before starting again, introducing the man across from her, then herself.

Kelce: yo

Topper: that’s her???

Kelce: look at his face

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I take a deep breath, collecting myself before burying my beer, quickly ordering another. Be cool.

Rafe: that obvious?

Kelce: very

Topper: do the thing

Rafe: what thing?

The thing? Are you kidding me, Top. What thing?

Another group of ours walks into the pub, catching Topper and Kelce’s focus. I feel myself getting anxious and annoyed, wanting to get her attention in some way before anyone fucks this up for me.

Rafe: tell me the thing

Kelce: order a song cameron

Topper: $5 for a song and you can leave a tip

Rafe: how

Kelce: haven’t you done this before

Rafe: …

Kelce: grab a little thing from the middle write your name and the song

Rafe: any song?

Topper: idk the rules

Kelce: there’s rules.

Rafe: what are they??

Kelce: idk ive never done this before

Rafe: duck u both

Rafe: FUCK*

I take out my wallet, thumbing through my cash: $20, $50, $100. No… What do I do now? $20 isn’t enough. Or is it? $100, I’ll look like an ass. $50… $50. Yeah – Yeah. Shit.

I quickly stuff the cash into the envelope, looking down at the next obstacle. Name… Easy. Rafe. Song. I want it to be something she likes. Something she wants to sing. I don’t wanna be some “Chad, dick, douchebag” requesting Chainsmokers. I look up, so lost in my mind that I missed the first song. Jesus fuck. Pull it together, Rafe.

Topper: Cassie says she likes Sabrina Carpenter

Rafe: how does she know that

Topper: idk I asked who’s that and she said give me 2 minutes. She found her IG

Rafe: Tell her I love her and text me the yn’s @

Topper: Espresso

Rafe: I’m drinking coors

Toppers: its a song

Kelce: 😂

Rafe: thank you Cass

I scribble down the track’s title on the envelope, rising to my feet, heading straight for the front. “Hi, Rafey,” I dodge the sorority sister coming my way, swerving around a bar top table to avoid her, hastily stepping toward the stage.

“This next one’s for Nate,” y/n announces, squinting to get a better look at the chicken scratch handwritten left by one of my frat brothers. “What does this say, babe?” She asks kindly.

“Party in the USA,” he hollers over the crowd.

“Oh, well then. Miley, it is,” she croons as she rolls out her wrists, fingers quickly striking the keys. Her voice pours out of the speakers, sending goosebumps down my arms.

The vocals are so trained; so beautiful it’s like she wrote the song herself. I can tell she’s adding a little more to it, making it her own without effort. Amazi- “Put the envelope in the bowl and sit down,” an old lady scolds me, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

“S-Shit. Sorry,” I scramble. Taking the last couple steps to the fishbowl full of requests, my eyes not leaving y/n. Her gaze lifts as she looks for her partner, catching my eyes instead. I smile, and she smiles back.

So damn beautiful.

Fuck me.

“Sit,” the old lady hisses, jarring me out of my daze. I suck my teeth and smile at her before looking back at y/n; her attention already pulled away, making me feel like I could fight an old lady in public. Bitch.

I sit down with the boys again, just hoping she’ll pull my request right away so I can loosen up a little, sip on a beer while I listen to her perform. Finally, something goes my way. Y/n opens the little envelope, eyeing the cash inside, flashing it to her partner between her pretty little manicured fingers.

“50 bucks? They must really wanna hear that song, y/n.”

“I guess so,” she giggles delightedly as she flips the card over. “Ohhh… A man after my own heart. Rafe, this one for you.”

My name leaves her lips, making my stomach flip. Adrenaline courses through my veins as she looks out into the crowd, searching for me. The boys must have been pointing me out because she finds me quickly, giving me a little nod. This night couldn’t get any better. I don’t know this song. I’ve never heard this shit a day in my life, but I can tell you it’ll be playin’ on repeat after this. The crowd sings along with her, y/n feeding off their energy.

Her voice is the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard, so bubbly and sweet as she nails each note. The song is catchy, too… Nothin’ I’d ever listen to but she’s making me feel like I could. She is so fucking talented. Maybe she plans on recording her own shit one day.

The song closes out, and the crowd breaks into applause “Earth to Rafe. Rafe?” A girl screams at me, apparently battling for my attention. “We’re going to Copperhead. Close your tab.”

“I just ordered a beer,” I lie. “Just go. I’ll meet you. Yeah?”

“No… Come,” she pouts, holding out her arms, giving me grabby hands. Fuck that.

“Who are you?” I scoff.

“Who am I? Who am I?” She starts to go off, but Topper yanks her away. That was close. The masses finally leave, lifting a massive weight off my shoulders. I widen my thighs, relaxing into my seat a little more.

It’s a euphoric rotation: watching her play and sing, performing for the crowd with her witty conversations alone. She’s got a beautiful laugh and a beautiful personality. Everything about her is beautiful. She notices me. I know it… It’s like we’re the only two here, I swear.

Reader’s POV:

Rafe… Fuck, he’s handsome. He’s a frat, bro, for sure, but he didn’t leave with that crowd. He asked about me… I’m almost positive enlisting some help from the army of sorority sisters he showed up with. Rafe doesn’t strike me as a Sabrina Carpenter guy. You laugh to yourself, thinking about it, looking into the crowd as you meet his eyes for the nth time of the night.

All set, I couldn’t help perform for him. Sure, I was entertaining a crowd, but each movement, each smile, each love song was performed just for him. I wanted him to feel like he knew me better at the end of the night, and each little adlib between my co-performer and me gave him a little more of my story: a music major with big dreams of becoming a recording artist.

Now I want to know his story.

He’s only requested one song. The night’s almost over, two requests left in the bowl. Rafe pulls out a card, writing something before stuffing some cash inside. He stands up, walking your way, making it through the crowd a little easier than he did the first time; a little more confidence in his walk.

Your heart starts to race, hands trembling on the keys. You position yourself on the bench, leaning in a little closer. He hands it directly to you with a smile. The boys at his table hoop and holler, whistling for him, making your cheeks heat up, nervous butterflies swirling in your stomach that you don’t usually have on the stage. Oh my god.

He gives you a little more of him this time: Name – Rafe Cameron

Song – Dreams Fleetwood Mac

this is my favorite song 🙂

You open the envelope, taking out another $50, but the little message on the flap has you tucking it in your bra instead of tossing it away when you see his phone number. Rafe smiles from the booth when you return your eyes to his, happy you kept it, taking a sip from his cup when the boys at his table start razzing him about it all.

Dreams. Huh? Not what I expected. There’s something sweet about it, though. It’s not exactly something a frat boy would choose. Maybe there’s a story there. Maybe he’ll tell me tonight? You search for the sheet music on your iPad, setting it up as Rex riffs. “And, who’s the next one for, y/n,” he smiles over the baby grand.

“Rafe Cameron,” you smile, your coworker catching onto your crush fast.

“The Rafe Cameron. Huh? The high roller?”

“The high roller. Mhmm… quite the charmer,” you add.

“Is he free after the show?”

“Rex,” you chuckle breathily. “This one’s mine.” Rex laughs and rolls his eyes, continuing to play with you, the two of you going back and forth, duetting different songs you can both play by ear.

“Well, is he free after the set?” Rex repeats himself dramatically, making the crowd break out in applause. You turn to Rafe and smile.

“Are you free after the set?” You ask sweetly. The blonde smiles and nods, mouthing that he’s all yours. All mine…

You break out into song, playing Rafe’s request, the two of you dueling back and forth, filling the bar with music. You steal glances at Rafe between cords and runs, enjoying the moment, thinking about how nice it would be to have someone in the crowd every night—especially someone who looks at you like he does.

He’s perfect.

YN: Meet me out back? 💕 Are you hungry?

Rafe: on my way. Yeah. Anything you want, princess

Fuck. You bite your bottom lip, reading and rereading Rafe’s message. Princess… It’s just another thing I could get used to. You check yourself in the mirror one last time, slicking on a little lip gloss and fluffing your hair.

You walk through the practically empty bar to the side door, some patrons still hanging around, sipping martinis and beer. You push through the door, Donnie pulling it the rest of the way open per usual, his face hard as stone, not his normal self. “Are you okay?” You ask uneasily, cocking an eyebrow up at him. He simply nods in the other direction, gesturing to someone. Rafe Cameron…

“You know him, baby?” Donnie rasps, looking at you with nothing but concern in his eyes

“Mhmm, Don. This is Rafe. He’s my date-”

“You know he was gonna piss on the side of the building before I stopped him?” Donnie cautions you, making Rafe scoff and laugh weakly.

“He wouldn’t be the first,” you chuckle as you adjust your purse on your shoulder, stepping toward Rafe.

“And he was smokin’ dope.”

“It was a pre-roll, y/n. Just a little weed,” Rafe mumbles, doing his best not to laugh at the older man.

“Naughty boy,” you tease as you slide your arm around Rafe’s waist, giving him a side hug. Rafe wraps his strong arms around your shoulders, pulling you in the rest of the way, holding you close. You take in his rich cologne; the feeling of your body wrapped up in him. Rafe lowers himself, whispering in your ear, setting your heart ablaze.

“Why don’t we get outta here, Princess?”

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[sxtaep]

WILD THOUGHTS - JJK

sometimes, being an esteemed photographer had its ups and downs. this time, it was a bit of both.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — smut, angst

word count — 1.7k

warnings/tags — photographer!jk x spoilt!reader, dom!jk, sub!reader (implied), swearing/cursing, insults, praise, bros got the biggest boner in public, male masturbation, jk is big mean, degradation, oral (implied m receiving), mentions of pussy eating, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of cumshots/creampies

a/n: this was something i was going to write a while ago, with the brains of @mercurygguk but i figured i’d keep it short and simple for the sake of ramadan 😭

btw!! this isn’t my last post before ramadan, i have another post scheduled to automatically post next month 🥳

hope everyone has a blessed month! 💗

Oh, the absolute fucking nerve you had to walk into his studio and cause a commotion, boss around his employees like you owned the place.

His week had been utter hell, running from one studio to the other, taking photos of his models but being back at his usual studio, Jungkook thought he could have a relaxed session with you.

Yeah, he did his research on you just to see what he was getting himself into and honestly, he wasn’t surprised.

Upon entering your name into the search engine, before your wiki page even came up, his screen was plastered with tons of articles about you, and they were nothing to be proud of.

‘Spoilt brat.’

‘Rude.’

‘Disrespectful.’

The list went on.

That was when he discovered you were handed this modelling opportunity because of the high status your parents held among designer brands, being the most sought after celebrities.

Your mother pulled a few strings and here you were.

With a bit of back and forth arguing, Jungkook instructed you to head to the dressing room with his assistant to get you ready for the shoot and surprisingly, you obeyed.

It wasn’t long before you stepped out onto the set, a silk robe shielding your body as his assistant did some final touch-ups on you.

The silence on set was deafening as you pulled off the robe, donned in a white lace bra and a thong, with the addition of a short lace skirt that barely covered your most intimate parts.

Now don’t get him wrong, Jungkook had come across thousands of models, all beautiful in their own way, and never affected by them, but something about you… your curves straining against the tight bands of the undergarments, tits sitting perfectly within the confines of your bra…

He fucking loved it.

It was such a shame you had the desired genes for this industry, but fucking hell, your personality made him wanna throw a brick at your face.

You were completely unaware of the commotion stirring within him, going about as usual and climbing onto the bed on set and ignoring the unwarranted stares you were receiving from everyone, “How do you want me?”

It takes Jungkook a couple seconds to gather himself before instructing you to lie on your stomach and lean on your forearms, giving you the freedom to position your hands as you please.

“Give me sexy, and seductive, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with that,” he says, bringing the camera up to his eye without realising what he’d just said.

You promptly ignore him, trying to contain the little bubble of excitement building in your stomach as you posed, hands gracing your face, fingers occasionally grazing your jawline.

Jungkook hums in approval, taking a couple more snaps and putting you in different positions before instructing you further, “Good, now take the skirt off and lie on your back,” he says, pulling the camera away from his face to gaze down at you.

You sit up on your knees, unbuttoning the skirt from the waist band and pulling it off, handing it too him and now being extremely aware of how exposed you were.

This is what it meant modelling for a lingerie brand; exposed skin and provocative photos.

Despite how you felt, you laid back on the bed, bringing one leg up to a slight bend as you threw your arms above your head, face turned to the side with your eyes closed as Jungkook snapped away, moving around you to capture every perfect angle.

All you could hear from him was praise and validation, the occasional ‘good girl’ slipping from his lips. You usually didn’t care for validation, knowing you were good at everything, but Jungkook… There was something about that asshole that made your skin crawl with goosebumps and you were certain he must’ve noticed.

And he did notice, being on his knees next to you, but he assumed it was due to the cold so didn’t comment on it. He was far more focused on capturing every angle possible because he wanted to wrap this up asap.

He rises up to his feet again, “Okay, on your hands and knees for me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but you don’t have time to process his words already being on a tight schedule. You did as told, standing on all fours on the bed, your spine arching perfectly and ass raised in the air slightly.

Jungkook bites back a smile, eyeing your current state as he stood before you.

Now would be a good time to shut you up with his cock.

He hides his face with the large camera, adjusting the lens to pick up everything from your perfectly raised ass peeking out behind your head, the sensual lighting drawing in the shadows along your body, accentuating your curves.

He’d be lying if he said his dick didn’t jump at the sight.

You were completely unaware of the affect your body had on him, continuing your job as expected and after a solid 2 hours, Jungkook called everything a wrap.

He sets his camera down on and extends his hand out to help you off the bed, his hand burning upon holding yours, “You’re free to leave, I’ll be in contact with you in the next couple days to discuss what comes next,” he tells you, dropping your hand and dismissing you rather quickly as you tried to stand up straight.

“Have a good night, Miss L/N.”

He didn’t wanna be in your presence any longer, nor did he wanna deal with your incessant complaining, when the boner in his pants was bound to burst any minute now.

You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth before he’s out the door, wondering why he was in a rush.

Why was he in a rush?

Because the moment he jumped into his car, driving out onto the streets, his boner was doing up a madness; relentlessly straining against his trousers as he gripped harshly onto the steering wheel.

He replays the moment he was spotting you in that vulnerable position; ass up, face down, the seamless arch of your spine adding a hint of elegance and sweetness to your appearance, though you were the complete opposite.

Rude and vile.

Taking photos of you from behind, your barely clothed cunt on display, sitting snug against the flimsy material.

Just one small movement of shifting your thong to the side and he could be burying his face in your pussy, eating you out to his desires—

“Fuck!” Jungkook slams his fist against the wheel, using his free hand to palm his throbbing cock for some relief.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

He was clearly wound up and full of sexual frustration after that shoot and it was unknown to him why this occurred so easily and why you of all people, had to be the cause.

Within a matter of minutes, Jungkook was pulling into his apartment garage, climbing out of his car and locking the door, using his bag as a shield to hide his erection from anyone he walks past.

He takes the elevator up to his penthouse suite, unlocking the door with a shaky hand and entering, dropping his bag to the floor and slamming the door shut behind him.

Good thing he was alone, he didn’t know if he was angry or horny right now, pacing up and down the room and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Maybe he was both.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t…

Fuck it, he could deal with the consequences later.

Jungkook throws himself on the couch, slouched back and thighs spread apart. Like this, his boner looked far bigger than he thought which made him wonder if anyone within distance from the garage and the building actually noticed it.

He removes the buttons of his shirt, leaving it open to give himself some air before reaches down to pull his pants off along with his boxers, letting his hardened cock slap against his abdomen, aching for a girl it shouldn’t.

He doesn’t waste another minute, wrapping a firm hand around the base of his cock, pumping himself up and down slowly as his head falls back against the couch.

“Shit…” he grits, bucking his hips up into his fist to get himself off, spreading the small beads of precum at his tip along the entirety of his cock.

Jungkook’s mind wanders far, conjuring up the sinful image of you riding him, your sweet little pussy clutching onto his cock like a tight glove and perfectly rounded tits bouncing in his face.

“Fucking hell…” he curses under his breath, using his free hand to massage his balls, squeezing and pulling at them for something more. He shook his head, tightening his grip, “That fucking bitch…” he seethes, picking up the pace as his thighs twitched, “How dare she do this to me…”

With a raspy moan, he continues to think about you, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, mouth taking him whole as he uses one hand to grasp at your skull, pushing your head further down till the tip of your nose was brushing against him.

He imagines you touching yourself with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, unable to wait like a desperate bitch.

Jungkook would do everything he could to hurt you in all the right ways; using you as his personal fleshlight, his very own cumdump who’d be there for him on-call because spoilt brats like you didn’t deserve the luxury of a comfort fuck.

No, spoilt girls like you deserved to be treated like whores; broken down into nothing because that’s what they deserve.

Maybe that would teach you a lesson; you can’t always get what you want.

“Gonna give her a piece of my mind,” he tells himself between panting breaths, stroking his hard cock and pushing himself closer to his orgasm.

He was so close.

The undying urge he had to paint your face with his cum, splay your tits white and bury himself balls deep in your pussy till you drained him of every last drop—

And that did it.

Thick ropes of cum were landing on his lap, all over his hands, some of it dripping down the base of his cock and he jerked himself off slowly, getting the last of what he could before letting go with a heavy sigh.

His thighs had tensed up and shirt all creased from the lack of care he took while sitting, and it was now when he realised he got off to you.

Little did he know, you were doing the exact same thing, touching yourself to the thought of him.

taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog @kookiecrumb @jjkeverlast @prettyghost @kooliv @koobsessed @gimmethatagustd @pb-n-juju @aslias17 @ririlovesangst @kootonins @taehyungseggs @dewamused @jungshook7 @jiminsneckkisses @moonfaery @fragmentof-indifference @hoseokteardrop @hopeworldjimin

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