#my friend got curious and started reading so i might just wait for him

[yok00k]

pensándote

pairing: yandere!bf!jk x reader

genre: angst, smut

summary: your boyfriend is getting more and more possessive and it's starting to affect your relationship. however, he's willing to change for the better. or you thought so.

warnings: MATURE- shower sex(rough), videotaping, jk hits it from the back, oc called jk 'daddy', ass smacking, cheeks were getting clapped, mentioned lots of sex positions, oc got slutted out, jk is lowkey/highkey toxic, sick, and unhealthy, toxic relationship, attachment issues, argument, jk is a stalker w ill behavior/action, [still in denial], open ending[there might be a next part, depending on how rough life could be], not proof read bc writing this is a silly little hobby

word count: 1,611

a/n: ho i’m back and better than ever!!! note that english is not my first language and I write for funsies>..< (this ff is inspired by rauw's pensandote) — to those who knows a lot of reggaeton bangers plz hmu for recs thx

-Llevo to' el día pensándote

“baby wait up” he calmly pleaded, trying to catch up to you. still, you continue to ignore him.

It was about to be 3 a.m. when you and you boyfriend arrived to your apartment from a girls’ night. you and your homegirls planned to have a night out to have let some loose and have fun, lots of drinks and men hitting on you being involved of course. living the city night life has been the part of your lifestyle. however it doesn’t play a huge part of your life anymore. barely anymore since you’ve established a romantic relationship with jeongguk– your suitor for six months. 

you and jeongguk had the same psychology class last year. oftentimes in that class, you’re either too tired from work or still have a hangover from the party the night before. same parties he goes to just so he can see a glimpse of you from afar, trying his best to see the best view of the entire party while trying to manage being lowkey. 

fortunately, jeongguk, who’s sitting next to you in class and also can’t help but to shift his undivided attention to how you’re struggling in some works in class. as a straight A-student and a gentleman, he frequently lends you his notes and offers you help. why? because for some  strange reason, he cares for you. 

well maybe the care is turning into an obsession. but jeongguk keeps telling himself that he’s being harmless. he simply wants to know.  he’s seen you always go out with your close friends, never with any man. on the days you’re not partying, you pick up extra shifts at a nearby coffee shop. how did he know? luck. just happened to stumble upon the shop one day. he swears it’s all coincidence. 

or at least he hopes so. 

you started to see him so often. at your work, parties, gym, or at the grocery store. again and again that you began to think that this might be destiny. each time you see him, he’s always by himself. minding his own business (or make an effort to seem like it). and it made you a little curious. how come this man doesn’t have any hoe or friends around? you frankly thought ‘maybe just his lifestyle’. one day he finally gets out of his comfort zone and asks you if you would be interested to get to know him. obviously, you’d like to know who he truly is. right?

fast forward after courting you for six months, here you are. coming home from a party with him following behind you. 

you would think that he’s going to stop. it’s unexpected and extreme for what he’s about to do next. 

and there he is, both knees on the ground. his large palms reaching for your cold hands. kneeling before you like a desperate man he is.  He knew exactly what he'd done. “please, let’s fix this”

he used to be fun. less controlling. less obsessive. less possessive. 

“oh now you wanna acknowledge the problem?” you scoffed, finding his sudden behavior ridiculous. “fix what problem? you constantly getting overly possessive and manipulative or you just randomly showing up at the party while me and my friends are in the middle of having fun? for fuck sake Jeongguk, let me fucking breathe for once.” 

you’re beyond frustrated. the upcoming finals have been stressing the shit out of you and all you need is some space to relieve stress. 

“baby, you know I’m just making sure that you’re saf–” he starts off with the excuse he always says, but you’re too quick to call him out. “following me to make sure I’m safe? you’re suffocating me.”

he has no response. he knows it’s true. he’s aware of his excessive actions. no, more like impulses. a thing he can’t control. an itch.  jeongguk can’t seem to fight these urges when he knows that there’s lots of men out there that actively hit on you. and he’s terrified, scared that they’ll steal you from his possession as if you’re his favorite toy to ever acquire. 

“I think we should just end this. it’s becoming toxic.” you stuttered under your breath, gasping a handful of your hair as you shifted your gaze on the side. ‘he’s becoming toxic’ is what you really want to say. 

“I.. I will stop. I will change. let me prove to you that I love you and I only want what’s best for you” he cries, tears slowly rolling on his porcelain face. 

“do you still have trust in me?” 

you wanted to shake your head, say no. 

tragically, your answer is yes. but the real question is will he change for the better? 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jeongguk is a man of his words and kept his promise.  it had been a couple months after that night and you began to notice the changes in his actions. a huge change. 

your boyfriend stops controlling you in a variety of ways. every time you let him know that you’ve got somewhere to go, all he asks for is your assurance that you’re safe and sound. as long as you’re having the best time, he’ll fully support you to whatever it is. 

some nights that you have to study and do homework, he’d restrain himself  from spamming your inbox. he understood that you have priorities and you’ll get back to him as soon as you can. and you did.

lastly, he recently became more consistent on going to the gym. it makes you extremely happy that he’s investing more time to better himself. physically and mentally. redirecting his focus onto something that’s actually more healthy for him.

 or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

so far, so good. you feel secure that everything is working well. your relationship is doing good. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

—"Tú desnuda, yo dándote"

“k-koo, right there baby” you begged as he continued to drill his thick cock into you from the back. slow and deep. and oh, raw.  “don’t stop, please.” the lewd sound of your ass clapping against his pelvis echoes in the steamy bathroom. all being captured by your cell phone held by his shaky left hand.

 video taping moments like this helps jeongguk cope with his unhealthy behaviors. whenever he feels a tiny bit of jealousy running through his veins, all he has to do is watch these videos to remind himself of what he has. 

you, in whatever nastiest positions he puts you in: doggy, backshots, against the wall, cowgirl, missionary, etc. this r-rated file collection you’ve got on your phone reminds him of the chokehold he’s got you in. yes, it’s all saved on your phone, but it’s not like he doesn’t have access through your apps and social accounts, let alone your camera roll. you’re all his. no one else’s. his. solely his. furthermore, he’ll make sure that he can guarantee himself so. 

perhaps you don’t need to smoke in order to feel like you’re in heaven right now. going for the 3rd round, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you. 

supposedly was a quick shower right after the gym session you had with him turned into a long and enjoyable one. 

“yeah? you love getting fuck like this, huh?” his cockiness is on top of the roof, he looks down to watch his veiny shaft disappear inside your pussy just for it to come out and back. he’s got the bestest view. not even a phone camera with flash on can justify that. he then props the camera on top of the toilet, leaning against the wall as it still catches both of your filthy actions. 

seeing how much you enjoy this position– bent down in the nearest sink, one hand gripping onto his wrist while the other clutches on the ceramic white sink. the whimpers coming from your skilful mouth can alone make him bust a nut. 

when he receives no reply, the hand that helps you to stay in place snakes its way to your hair, collecting a fistful before tugging it back.  

“answer, slut” he snapped, demanding an answer from you whilst he proceeds to thrusts in and out. with your eyes rolled back, you’re barely processing what he wants from you. unable to even utter a single proper syllable from how ecstatic he’s making you feel. Indeed, you love being treated like a slut. 

in and out. in and out. in and–

smack 

 a sudden sharp pang on your ass cheek, causing you to moan loudly.  “c’mon my love, you’re still with me. right?” he asks, increasing his pace faster. rougher. 

“hmm y-yea, love the way you feeel” you desperately murmured, still clouded by the glorious dick he’s giving you. 

“m-more,” a single word from you is all that your man needs to hear to continue drilling onto you. rough yet with love. 

“almost there,  daddy” your breath hitches, still struggling to speak.  on the other hand, your words made the man pounding into you even crazier than he already is. he began to notice the signs that you’re about to reach your peak as your walls desperately clenched around him. 

he abruptly comes to a stop. pulls out completely from you, resulting in you to release a whine. 

jeongguk manhandles your fragile body, turning your body to face him. he pats the side of your thigh, insisting you to jump and wrap your  legs around his waist.

“want you to look me in the eyes when you come.” he orders, slowly penetrating into you once again, while being face-to-face with you at the same time. 

 just like his destructive actions filled with obsession, he’s not stopping anytime soon,

is he?

<want to read more? : my m.list>

[inseobts]

Hello! I'd like to please request a little scenario for multiple characters if possible; I'm especially interested in your take on this with Law, Sanji and Ace given their backstory. If you're open to writing for the ladies as well then adding Robin into the mix would be appreciated! My idea is simple; an S/O with a child, and the aftermath of discovering that fact. I don't mind if it's an established relationship and there just wasn't an opportunity to meet the kid before or something else, I just like the idea of these characters dealing with the concept of surprise family/parenthood, the angst that may arise from dealing with the role of a stepparent if they want a relationship (and its happy ending if possible!) Good luck with all the requests, I hope you have fun with them!

Found Family (Reader with a Kid)

gn!reader

characters: law, sanji, ace, nico robin

tags: under each character + secret child

a/n: I started it with a fem!reader in mind and changed it to gender neutral only later since the post didn't mention the gender, so please if I missed some changes please tell me

words count: around 0.8k - 1.7k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Law:

Tags: Established Relationship, Surprise Family, Angst to Comfort, Fluff

The wind blows soft through the port town. Law steps off the ship, coat flapping behind him, hands in his pockets. He’s quieter than usual, eyes scanning the street ahead. He’s not here on a mission. He’s here for you.

You sent a letter three weeks ago.

Just one line: “I need to talk. Come if you can.”

Law doesn’t like surprises. But he comes.

He finds you standing outside a small house with peeling paint and flower pots on the windowsill. You smile when you see him, but it’s tight, like you’re scared.

He frowns “You alright?”

You nod “Yeah… I just—can we go inside? I don’t want to do this out here.”

Law follows you in. It’s warm. Smells like soup and soap. A small jacket hangs on a hook by the door. Not yours. Too small.

His sharp eyes catch it, but he doesn’t say anything yet.

You lead him to the living room and sit. He stands. Watches you.

You look down “There’s something I never told you.”

Law’s voice is low “I figured.”

You breathe in deep “I… have a kid.”

Silence.

You look up. His face is unreadable. Like ice. You hate that expression, it means he’s trying to think without feeling. To stay calm.

He speaks finally “How old?”

You blink “She’s five.”

He does the math. That means before him.

“She yours?” he asks, even though he already knows.

You nod “Yes. Mine. The... other parent's gone. Completely.”

He nods slowly. His voice is cold, but not cruel “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” You twist your hands “We met during a war. We never talked about kids, or… futures. Then we got together, and things felt good. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You thought this would ruin it?”

“I thought you might walk away.”

He looks away “You didn’t trust me.”

“That’s not fair,” you say, standing now too “I’ve been through things. I didn’t know how you’d react. You’re not… You don’t talk about family. You barely talk about your past.”

His jaw tenses. You hit a nerve.

You try softer “I wanted to wait for the right moment. But there never was one. Until now.”

Silence again.

Then small footsteps.

You freeze.

Law turns just as a tiny figure walks into the room, clutching a stuffed rabbit.

“Who’s this?”

Her eyes are big, curious. Law stares.

You kneel “Sweetheart, this is Law. He’s… He’s my friend.”

Law doesn’t speak. He just looks. She hides behind your leg.

You don’t blame her.

“She’s shy,” you say “But she’s smart. She reads pirates like storybooks.”

Law kneels too, finally, lowering himself to her level. His voice softens.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” he says “I’m just… surprised.”

Your daughter peeks out “You talk funny.”

Law blinks.

You laugh nervously “He’s from the North Blue.”

“Oh.” She tilts her head “Do you have a boat?”

Law nods “A submarine.”

Her eyes widen “Cool…”

She steps forward. He doesn’t move.

Then she offers her rabbit “You wanna hold Mr. Bun?”

You almost cry.

Law takes it. Careful. Gentle. Like it’s glass.

He looks at you over her head. Still unsure. Still quiet.

But he’s here, and he’s not walking away.

The rabbit sits on the table between you.

Law hasn’t said much since dinner. He eats quietly, politely. Your daughter sits beside him, munching rice balls like they’re treasure. She’s talking to him. A lot.

“Do submarines have beds?”

“Yes.”

“Do you sleep in them?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you dream of fish?”

“…No.”

You nearly laugh into your cup. Law sends you a look. It says help me. You shrug. You’re doing fine.

When she finishes eating, you ask her to brush her teeth. She runs off with Mr. Bun in her arms. The house falls quiet again.

Law leans back in his chair.

“You didn’t even flinch,” you say “When she offered you the rabbit.”

He shrugs “She trusted me. I didn’t want to break that.”

You nod, chewing on your lip “That means a lot, Law.”

He looks at you. Eyes sharp but not cold “I’m not angry.”

“Really?”

“I’m hurt.” His voice is honest now “You didn’t tell me. I could’ve helped. Been there. Or at least known what I was walking into.”

“I know,” you whisper “I was scared. I didn’t want to push you away.”

“I’m not made of glass, Y/N. I’ve lost family. I’ve lost everything. But I never said I didn’t want to build something new.”

You look down at your hands “She’s my whole world.”

“I can see that.”

“And now that you’ve met her… what do you want?”

He pauses.

That pause stretches long and sharp between you.

Then, softly “I don’t know.”

You nod. You expected that. You’re not mad. Just scared again.

Law stands and walks to the window “She’s a good kid. Brave. You raised her well.”

You smile a little “She’s got my temper.”

“I noticed.”

You walk over to him. You both stare outside. The moon is bright tonight.

“I’m not asking you to be her father,” you say “You don’t have to… take that role if you don’t want it.”

He turns “What if I want to?”

Your breath catches.

“I don’t know how to be that,” he continues “A father. A parent. I’m… I’m a surgeon. A pirate. I know how to fight, how to cut, how to survive. Not how to raise a child.”

You place your hand over his “She doesn’t need perfect. Just present. Just kind. Even I didn’t know how to be a good parent.”

He watches you. Something cracks in his expression.

“I want you.” he says.

“I want you too.”

“But I can’t lie to you… I’m afraid. I don’t want to mess this up.”

You squeeze his hand “We’ll learn together. She’s not looking for perfect either. She just wants someone who doesn’t leave.”

That hits hard.

He nods and then tiny footsteps again.

Your daughter peeks from the hallway “Hey... can he read me a story?”

Law blinks “Me?”

She nods “You have a cool voice.”

You laugh softly “What do you say?”

He hesitates. Then walks over.

“Alright, let’s try.” he says “But only one.”

She beams.

You stand in the hallway, listening through the door. His voice is low, slow, careful. Reading a picture book about sea creatures. She’s tucked in, eyes half-closed. The rabbit is between them on the bed.

Law finishes the page. She murmurs, “You’re not scary like someone said.”

You gasp quietly. Betrayal.

Law chuckles “Someone said that?”

“Mhm. They said you’re all sharp eyes and brooding. But you’re kinda soft.”

Law mutters, “I am never going to live that down.”

You grin and walk back to the living room.

He stays. Finishes the story. Even tucks her in.

When he comes out, he looks… changed.

“You did good.” you say.

“I didn’t even sweat.”

“Liar.”

He sighs, then smirks “Okay, maybe a little.”

You take his hand again “So…”

“So.” he echoes.

“You staying the night?”

He raises a brow “You asking?”

You smile “I have tea. And a couch. Or a bed, if you behave.”

He smirks “I’ll try my best.”

── .✦ Sanji:

Tags: Flirting Sanji, Soft Sanji, Humor, Fluff, Unexpected Bonding, Found Family

Sanji flirts with you every time he sees you.

At the market “Ah, Y/N! Did the sun rise just to see your face today?”

At the docks “Want me to carry those for you, my love? Your hands are far too lovely for heavy lifting!”

Even after the battle in your city, where the Strawhats helped “You’re even more beautiful covered in blood. Should I be worried about how much I love that?”

You never fall for it. You roll your eyes. You walk away. You don’t even blush.

It drives him insane.

“You’re difficult to get,” he says one afternoon, following you through town “but I like that.”

“I don’t fall,” you say flatly “Especially not for men with hearts in their eyes.”

“Ahhh, but my heart is sincere!”

You stop and face him “Sanji. You don’t even know me.”

“I want to.”

You pause. He’s annoying, yes. But not bad. He’s never pushed you too far. Never said anything mean. Just flirty. Charming. Too charming.

You sigh “Fine. You want to know me?”

He lights up “Yes! Of course!”

“Then come with me.”

You lead him through town, away from the market, away from the noise. Into a quiet part of the island. A garden path. A small house tucked in the trees.

He’s still smiling “So this is where the beautiful Y/N hides. A date, then?”

You don’t answer. You open the door. Inside, it’s neat. Warm. Lived-in. There are toys in the corner. A tiny pair of shoes by the door.

Sanji frowns “Is this… your house?”

“Wait here.” you say.

You go into the back room. A few seconds later, you return, holding a small child. Sleepy-eyed. Holding a stuffed whale. While another lady leaves the house as if her job there is finished.

You look Sanji in the eye.

“This is my daughter.”

Sanji freezes.

Dead silent.

You wait.

You expect a nervous laugh. A fast goodbye. A dramatic “I’m not ready for this!” speech.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead…

“Her hair’s like yours,” he says softly “She’s beautiful.”

Your daughter rubs her eyes, looks at him “Who’s that?”

You answer “Just... a friend.”

Sanji kneels slowly “Hi, sweetheart. I’m Sanji. Can I say hello?”

She shrugs. He waves. She waves back with the whale.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Whale.” Sanji says seriously.

You blink.

She giggles.

You didn’t expect this.

You make tea. Sanji helps. He insists, actually.

“She can’t have sugar this late.” you say.

“Then honey,” he says “Gentle on the stomach.”

You watch as he puts her cup in front of her like a butler. Bows. She bows back. You nearly choke on your tea.

“Do you cook?” she asks.

“Oh yes,” he says “Better than anyone.”

She claps “Make us dinner!”

Sanji glances at you. You nod. Why not?

He makes a simple meal. It smells amazing. Your daughter eats two full plates.

After, she sits in his lap and shows him a book of sea animals. He listens. Really listens.

You don’t understand what’s happening.

You were trying to scare him away.

Instead, he’s… perfect.

When she falls asleep, he carries her to her bed. Quiet. Gentle.

He tucks her in, fixes her whale beside her, and kisses her forehead.

You follow him back to the living room in silence.

“Well...” you say, still confused “That wasn’t what I expected.”

He smiles but smaller this time. Softer.

“I flirt because it’s fun,” he says “But I stayed because I wanted to see you.”

You stare at him “You weren’t scared?”

“I was shocked,” he admits “But not scared. You’re a single parent. That’s strong. She’s lucky to have you.”

You look away “I thought it would make you leave.”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

You smile at that and look at him again. This time longer.

Sanji isn’t just charm. He’s heart. He’s warmth.

And… maybe you were wrong about him.

Your daughter’s asleep.

Sanji’s sitting on the couch, arms stretched over the backrest like he belongs there. His jacket is off, sleeves rolled up, and a soft smile on his lips.

He looks so… calm. Like this is normal. Like he wants this.

You sit across from him, legs tucked under you. You sip your tea. Your hands are shaking just a little, but you hide it well.

“Thanks for dinner,” you say “She loved it.”

“She’s adorable,” he says, smiling “And polite. You’ve done an amazing job.”

You stare into your cup “I didn’t do it alone. But… it’s been a long time since I shared her with someone.”

Sanji watches you quietly. No teasing now. Just listening.

You swallow. Here goes nothing.

“So,” you say “I’ve decided something.”

He leans forward “Oh?”

You lift your eyes to meet his “I’m saying yes.”

His brows lift “Yes to what?”

You smile “A date.”

He freezes “Wait. A—really?”

You nod.

“I mean, I’ve been asking for weeks, but I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” you say “I just didn’t believe you.”

“And now?”

“Now I do.”

He stares at you for a second. Then a slow, beautiful grin spreads across his face. Like he’s won a war. Like the clouds finally moved for the sun.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“You—you have no idea what this means to me, Y/N.”

You chuckle “I might have some idea.”

“Do you want flowers? Candles? Music? Should I wear a suit? I’ll cook, of course—”

You laugh softly “Just come as you are.”

He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly flustered “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

You sip your tea again. Calm on the outside.

But inside? Your heart is thundering. So loud it feels like it echoes in your chest. And he doesn't even know your heart is actually beating faster than his own.

You’ve had to be strong for so long. For your child. For yourself. Love always felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford.

But Sanji… he’s something else.

Not because he’s charming.

But because when it really mattered, he stayed.

And now, you let yourself fall a little deeper.

You stand. Walk over. And press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He goes still.

You pull back and say quietly, “Can't wait for the date.”

His eyes widen, then fill with something warm surprised, happy, maybe even a little nervous.

“You… really?” he asks, softer than you’ve ever heard him.

You nod “Don’t make me regret it.”

His laugh is breathless “Never.”

You smile, heart pounding, but you don’t let it show. He doesn’t need to know yet how much this means.

A few nights later for your first date Sanji goes all out, but not in a flashy way. It’s thoughtful. Intimate.

He sets up dinner on the ship’s deck. Small candles, soft music from a den den mushi radio, and a view of the sea under stars. He cooks something warm and comforting, not fancy, just full of love.

You talk for hours. About silly things, quiet things, your pasts and dreams. It’s easy. He listens more than he speaks, and when he does talk, it’s gentle.

No cheesy lines. Just Sanji. Real and warm.

After dessert, he walks you home in silence. Not awkward, just peaceful. The kind of quiet where you don’t need to fill space.

At your door, he looks at you with hopeful eyes but doesn’t move in. He’s waiting for your choice.

So you step closer.

You kiss him.

Soft. Sure. Just once. But it’s full of everything you’ve been holding back.

When you pull away, he blinks like he’s just been hit by a wave.

You smirk “You were taking too long.”

He laughs, dizzy and full of stars.

And for the first time in a long while, so do you.

── .✦ Ace:

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Humor, Emotional Reveal, Mutual Feelings Hidden, Teasing to Serious, Marine Conflict

The sun burns above you. You’re lying on the deck of your ship, one leg over the other, a half-empty bottle between your fingers. Ace is beside you shirtless, grinning, sweat on his brow, flame flickering off his fingers like it’s breathing with him.

“You always steal my rum.” you say, kicking him lightly.

“You always keep it warm,” he shoots back “I’m doing you a favor.”

You roll your eyes “Your idea of favors sucks.”

He leans closer, his voice lazy and smug “You didn’t say that last night.”

You groan “Get a new line, fire boy.”

He grins wider. You punch his arm. He fake-winces, like it hurt. It didn’t.

That’s the two of you: teasing, biting, half-fighting, half-kissing. No promises. No labels. Just good fun and bad timing.

Pirate life is rough. You take what joy you can.

“Hey,” you say after a long silence, watching the sky “Wanna hear a secret?”

Ace smirks, eyes still closed “If it’s about that thing you did in the galley with the honey—”

“No, dumbass. A real secret.”

That makes him open his eyes. He turns to look at you “Alright. Hit me.”

You sit up. Serious now. The bottle rests on your knee.

“I have a son.”

Ace snorts “You what?”

You nod, eyes still on the horizon “Yeah. He’s five. His name’s Ren.”

He blinks. You go on before he can interrupt.

“I had him before all this, before the piracy, before you. I got caught in something messy with the Marines. To keep him safe, I left him with my parents. Changed my name. Ran.”

Ace stares.

You keep talking “I go see him when I can. Disguised. Just for a day or two. He thinks I’m some traveling doctor or something. He doesn’t know who I really am.”

You pause. Swallow.

“It’s hell, leaving every time. But I’d rather he grow up safe than have him hunted.”

Ace starts laughing.

You blink “What the hell?”

He’s full-on laughing “Holy shit, you got me! I thought you were serious. What is this, some new kink? Roleplay? Mommy pirate stuff?”

You just look at him.

Dead quiet.

No grin. No tease.

Ace’s smile dies instantly. The flame on his fingers goes out.

“…Wait,” he says “You’re not joking?”

You don’t say anything.

His expression changes fast… shocked, confused, then something close to guilt “You really…?”

You nod once “I’m not playing around.”

He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly tense “Shit.”

“Yeah,” you say, dry “That’s usually the first response.”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again “Why are you telling me this now?”

You shrug “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a real connection in years. Or maybe I just got tired of lying all the time.”

He stares at you.

You look away “I didn’t expect you to laugh. That sucked.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

“No,” he says quickly “I’m serious. That was a shitty reaction. I just… I didn’t think you were the kind of person to hide something that big.”

You exhale “Turns out, I’m full of surprises.”

The silence between you is heavy now. Not like before.

Then Ace says quietly, “What’s he like?”

You blink “Huh?”

“Your kid. Ren. What’s he like?”

You smile a little “Stubborn. Smart. Messy. Loves drawing fishes. Hates carrots. Thinks I have the coolest boots in the world.”

Ace nods, quiet. He looks down, then up at you again.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs “I’m sorry for laughing. And I’m… kinda honored you told me.”

You raise a brow “Didn’t peg you for the emotional type.”

He shrugs, eyes soft “Didn’t peg you for someone with a child.”

Touché.

Ace doesn’t talk much for the next few days.

No flirting. No teasing. Just quiet looks when he thinks you’re not watching.

You try to act normal with some old jokes, same smug grin as always, but you feel it too. Everything changed with that one secret. The space between you now holds more than just fun.

It holds truth. Real, heavy, warm truth.

You’re standing at the helm when he walks up beside you.

“I want to come.” he says.

You glance at him “Come where?”

“When you go see your son.”

Your hands tighten on the wheel “Ace—”

“I’ll stay out of sight. I swear. I just… want to see him. I want to understand what you gave up. What you’re protecting.”

You study him for a moment. His eyes don’t waver. There’s no joke. No smirk.

Just Ace. Real. Honest.

You nod.

Months later — The island is quiet. A small village with stone houses, chickens in the streets, a little bakery that still smells like your childhood.

You pull your hood low. Ace wears a cap, sunglasses... he looks ridiculous, but no one’s looking at him. Just another traveler.

Your parents’ house is at the end of the road. Garden full of wildflowers. Paint peeling on the fence.

Your son is playing outside.

He doesn’t see you at first. He’s chasing butterflies. Laughing. Barefoot.

Ace stops walking.

“That’s him?” he asks, voice rough.

You nod “Ren.”

Ace just stares. His hands slowly curl into fists.

You call out softly, “Ren?”

The boy turns. His face lights up.

He runs to you screaming. You drop to your knees and catch him in your arms. He’s warm. Real. Solid.

Ace looks away.

Inside, your parents keep things short. They know who Ace is. You warned them. They’re not happy, but they trust you.

You all sit outside. Ren sits on Ace’s lap by accident. You try to grab him, but Ace just holds him steady.

“It’s okay,” he says “He’s light.”

Ren shows him a toy ship made of sticks “I made this!”

Ace chuckles “Really? That’s better than some ships I’ve sailed on.”

You stare.

Ren grins proudly “My parent used to tell me stories. About pirates and fire powers. Did you know there’s a pirate who can set his fists on fire?”

Ace raises a brow “Sounds dangerous.”

Ren gasps “But so cool!”

You laugh softly. Ace sends you a small look. It’s gentle. A little sad.

Later, when Ren naps, you and Ace sit on the back porch.

“He’s amazing.” Ace says.

“I know.”

“You’re amazing,” he adds “You left this. For his safety.”

You stare at the grass “I think about quitting all the time. Just staying here. Being at his side full time. But… the world’s not kind. And if they find me—”

“I get it,” he cuts in “You’re doing what you have to.”

You glance at him “I didn’t expect you to care so much.”

He shrugs “Neither did I.”

Then he adds, “But now I can’t stop.”

Your heart stumbles.

“He’s got your eyes.” Ace says softly.

“Don’t get attached.” you warn “This life… it’s dangerous.”

“So is mine,” he says “But that didn’t stop you from letting me in.”

You look at him. Really look.

“I didn’t plan for this...” you whisper.

“Neither did I.”

But here you both are.

And suddenly, fun doesn’t feel like the right word anymore.

The sound of quiet laughter wakes you.

You blink against the morning light, still groggy, still warm under the blanket. It takes a second to remember where you are... your parents’ house, back in your old bed.

And then you hear it again.

Ren’s voice.

And Ace’s.

You sit up, heart skipping.

You slip out of bed, still barefoot, and pad toward the living room. And there they are.

Ren sits cross-legged on the floor, his little wooden ship in one hand, while Ace sits across from him, mimicking an enemy pirate voice.

“Noooo! You got me again, Captain Ren! My ship is sinking!”

Ren giggles and throws a pillow at him “That’s what you get, bad guy!”

Ace dramatically falls back, hands in the air “Ughhh… defeated by the mightiest pirate on the seas…”

Your heart squeezes.

Ace looks so natural. Hair messy. Eyes full of warmth. Like he belongs here.

But then your parents come in.

They freeze when they see the scene.

Ace doesn’t notice at first, he’s laughing with Ren, his smile unguarded.

“Ren.” your mother says, sharply.

Your son turns.

“Come away from him,” your father says quickly, stepping forward “Now.”

Ace blinks, confused “I—”

“Ren,” your mother repeats “Come here.”

Ren looks at you, unsure.

You step in “What’s going on?”

Your father’s jaw tightens “We don’t want him near the child.”

You stare “Excuse me?”

“He’s a pirate,” your mother hisses “A famous one. Fire Fist. He’s dangerous.”

“He’s also sitting on the floor playing ships...” you snap.

Your parents say nothing.

“You trusted me enough to come here with him,” you continue, voice rising “Now you’re trying to pull Ren away like he’s some kind of monster?”

“We’re protecting our grandson.” your father says coldly.

“From what? A man who’s been nothing but kind to him?”

“You don’t know what kind of life he brings.”

“I do,” you shout “I live it too. If you forgot. And yes, it’s dangerous. Yes, it’s hard. But Ace has done nothing but respect my family, protect me, and treat Ren with more care than anyone ever has!”

They go silent.

You’re shaking now, fists clenched.

“And for your information, I love him.”

The words fall like a hammer in the room.

Ren blinks.

Your parents’ eyes widen.

Ace just stares at you.

You don’t move.

You didn’t mean to say it... not like this, not loud, not angry... but it’s out.

And real.

You look at Ace, heart thundering “I love you.”

A beat.

Then Ace stands slowly, eyes locked on yours. He walks to you, quiet. The room holds its breath.

He stops in front of you.

“I wasn’t sure if I should say it first,” he says, voice low “Didn’t want to scare you off. But you beat me to it.”

You blink.

“I love you too.” he says.

He reaches out, gentle, and takes your hand.

Your parents stay silent. Ren looks between the two of you, then claps once like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Can I have pancakes now?” he asks.

You and Ace laugh at the same time, breathless.

And just like that, the tension cracks.

── .✦ Nico Robin:

Tags: Established Relationship, Soft Confession, Emotional Intimacy, Bittersweet Past

It’s late.

Most of the crew has gone to bed, except you and Robin. You're both in the library room. She’s reading. You’re not. You're just holding the edge of a piece of paper... frayed, uneven, and pulsing with life.

A vivre card.

You don’t have to look at it to know it’s still there. Still pointing somewhere far away, where you can’t be.

Robin closes her book softly “Is that what’s been on your mind all day?”

You glance over.

Of course she noticed.

You nod “Yeah.”

She tilts her head slightly “Can I ask who it’s for?”

You hesitate.

You’ve never told her. Not because you didn’t trust her, but because it always felt like a story that belonged to a different version of you. The you from before the sea. Before the Straw Hats. Before her.

But she’s already part of everything now.

So you answer.

“My son.”

Robin says nothing but her gaze sharpens. Attentive. Careful.

“He’s with his other parent now,” you continue, voice quiet “I raised him alone before I joined the crew. He’s the one who said it was okay. Actually, we were always together, in another small crew. Then he wanted a different kind of life. One with… peace. So we contacted his other parent.”

Robin nods, slow “He sounds mature.”

“He was always like that. Smarter than me, I think.”

There’s a short silence.

You look at the vivre card “I haven’t seen him since I joined. We talk through letters, sometimes den den mushi. But I don’t know when I’ll be able to see him again.”

Robin’s eyes soften “Do the others know?”

You shake your head “No. Just you.”

She reaches out. Her fingers brush yours, just enough to touch the vivre card “Thank you for trusting me.”

You smile, small but real “I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

Robin hums “I already see you. Clearly.”

You blink.

She looks at you steady and kind “You carry something heavy. And still laugh with the crew. Still help cook. Still stand beside me in battle. That’s not weakness.”

Your chest aches in the best way.

She pauses, then adds, “If one day… you want to try and see him again, I’d go with you.”

Your voice catches “Really?”

She nods “Of course. I’d like to meet him. He sounds like someone I’d admire.”

You look down at the vivre card.

Still warm. Still burning.

Maybe not as far away as it feels.

It’s just past dinner.

You’re with Robin as she asked you to stay close. A soft excuse about helping her with some documents. You're both sitting on the floor, back against the wall, a soft lamp between you.

You have the vivre card on the table. You don't always keep it out, but tonight you felt the need to hold it.

You glance at the Den Den Mushi nearby.

You hesitate.

Then pick it up and dial a number you’ve had memorized since your hands first held his.

The snail blinks sleepily… then perks up.

“Hello?”

Your chest tightens at the voice.

You smile “Hey, kiddo.”

A pause, then, “IT’S YOU!!”

You laugh, caught off guard by the pure excitement.

“Oh my god—FINALLY! You didn’t forget me, right? You didn’t sail into a storm and disappear forever, right?”

Robin lifts an amused brow, watching you with quiet interest.

“I didn’t forget you,” you say softly “You know that.”

“Just making sure. I’ve been drawing so many sea monsters lately you would not believe. I made a kraken with three hats.”

You laugh again, voice cracking slightly “Three hats? He must be important.”

“Very.” He pauses, then adds, “...I missed you.”

You shut your eyes “I missed you too.”

Robin looks away respectfully, but stays close.

Then, from the snail: “Hey, wait—who’s near you? Are you with someone?”

You glance at Robin, who blinks, caught.

“She’s... a friend.” you say carefully.

Robin speaks, her voice soft “I hope I’m more than just a friend.”

The Den Den Mushi mimics a shocked face.

“...OH MY GOD. IS THIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND??”

You bury your face in your hand.

Robin chuckles lightly, graceful even when embarrassed “Hello. I’m Robin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

There’s a long pause.

“...You sound really cool.”

Robin smiles “Thank you. So do you.”

“Wait—how much do you know about them? Like... do you know about the time they tried to cook without instructions and set the wall on fire?”

You groan “Don’t tell her that.”

“It was a microwave! The noodles caught on fire!”

Robin’s shoulders shake with laughter.

You shoot her a glare that holds no heat “I regret this entire call.”

“No you don’t.”

And he’s right. You don’t.

Not even a little.

Later, when the call ends, you sit in silence.

Robin’s hand reaches for yours “He’s amazing.”

You nod, voice soft “Yeah. He really is.”

She squeezes your hand gently “He has your spark. And your chaos.”

You smile through the ache in your chest “He’s better than I’ll ever be.”

Robin rests her head against your shoulder.

“You’ll see him again. When the time is right. And I'll be with you... if you want me.”

"Of course I do."

And somehow, with her beside you, that feels like a promise you can believe in.

[cheriedivine]

Deeply still in love

♡‧₊˚₊✧ pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem reader (No use of y/n)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ summary: Ellie Williams doesn’t do feelings. She buries them under alcohol, weed and strangers lips, but the moment she hears your voice again, everything she’s shoved down, claws its way back up.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ CW: References to substance abuse (weed, alcohol), Mild suggestive themes, Unrequited love, Swearing, emotional themes. (Lmk if i missed anything!)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Tags: Angst/heartbreak, Ellies is a fuck boy, just pain tbh

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Author’s note: ok so this is my first time ever writing something for Ellie and it’s heavily based on Role Model’s song Deeply still in love bc i fucking love that song and I thought it would be a good angsty emotional one shot so yeah… hope u guys enjoy it and english is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes oki luv yall bye.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ WC: 3.6K

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

“I think i still love you, deep down i know i never stopped loving you-“ Ellie scratched it out, watching the ink dry down on the page in her journal, the words of what she just wrote frozen on her mind, her breath was shallow, like she was afraid the air would judge her for it. She crossed the sentence out, one, two, three times until the paper on her journal ripped.

“Jesus Ellie, you might wanna breathe before your face starts turning purple- what’s up with that?”

Jesse interrupted her thoughts as he looked down at Ellie’s previously destroyed journal page, placing the two cups of coffee down at the table, the coffee shop they were at was cozy but drowned in people, making Ellie’s thoughts quieted down a bit as she closed the journal on her lap and took the hot cup of coffee “it’s nothing just… thoughts” she said while taking a sip of her coffee, the bitter taste burning her tongue

“Yeah well it looked like you were about to collapse or die” He flopped into the chair across from hers with a furrowed expression, “Anyway, maybe you should take your thinking somewhere else tonight and come with me and Dina to this party tonight” The black haired boy suggested, but Ellie wasn’t paying him much attention until she heard him clicking his fingers in front of her face “Hello earth to Ellie? Did you hear anything I said?” Ellie rolled her eyes, but if she was being honest her mind was wandering somewhere else, or on someone else “Sorry man im just not here today, what’s going on?” Jesse huffed getting annoyed by the girl’s lack of attention “You. Me. Dina. Party. Tonight?” He took the cup of coffee up to his mouth awaiting his friend’s response.

Ellie didn’t answer right away, tracing her finger on the rim of her cup, eyes fixed on the steam coming out of it like smoke signals no one else could read.

“Is ‘you know who’ going to be there?” the auburn haired girl finally responded, afraid but curious of what his response might be, her stomach twirled at the thought of you being there.

“Dude its been more than six months,” Jesse said with a tired tone. “You’ve hooked up with like three different girls since then, I thought you were over it”.

Ellie let out a short breath, bitter, like the coffee on her hands.

Over it.

Yeah sure. It’s been 8 months exactly since you broke up with Ellie, you didn’t exactly end up on bad terms, but it was like something was ripped off from her, a part of her was still waiting for you to come back, but how could she blame you for not to?. It was always like this, Ellie shut down when things got too real, she bottled up all these emotions and when the weight of it caught up to her it became too heavy to carry. You kept reaching for anything, like screaming to a wall, while she just kept pulling away, slowly and painfully. It wasn’t because she didn’t care, but because she cared too much. And that scared the shit out of her.

She hated talking about her feelings, she hated the vulnerability of it, the rawness, she hated being seen too clearly. But you- you saw her like no one else ever had, you saw her through like a window on a road trip, never scared of the road, never afraid of where it might take you, but she shut you down over and over, until you got tired of knocking on a door that would never fully open.

Ellie never blamed you for leaving, the look on your eye when the words slipped of your lips when you called it off still haunted her on her dreams till this day “I love you Ellie, but i can’t be the only one bleeding for us”

She just stood there, breathing through her nose, her heart pounding like a drum, she felt like it might rip out of her chest, and maybe it did because her words got caught up in her throat and tears started brewing in her emerald eyes when you left without slamming the door, that’s how she knew she really fucked up, that this was real, and you and her were done.

So yeah 8 painfully slow months have passed since that, and even though Ellie kissed strangers in bars, she closed her eyes with your name stuck behind teeth, going through bodies like maybe she could fit into a different pair of arms that could be warm enough to forget your face, your lips or the way your eyes would light up when you kissed her, but no stranger could ever replace that, replace you. It always came back to you. It didn’t matter how many mouths she kissed or how many bodies she explored, coming back to a cold bed made the emptiness crawl back like an old friend, and only made your absence more painful. But still she kept doing it, as if it were a miracle move-on-drug.

Ellie blinked out of the memory, the cup in her hands cold and long forgotten, she placed it back on the table before answering to her friend.

“Whatever man just text me the address and I might consider it” She thought the party wasn’t such a bad idea, she could have a couple drinks and hook up with some stranger she just met like she has been doing for the past months.

Jesse raised a brow, not buying into her sudden shift of tone. “That didn’t sound like a ‘fuck yeah I’m down for a party’. It sounded more like you’re planning to drink cheap booze until you forget your name and make out with someone you won’t remember the next day.”

The girl shrugged, “So what, none of your goddamn business”

Jesse stared at her for a second, like he wanted to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed them right up and sighed leaning back in his chair. “you do you, Ellie. Just… stop pretending it's helping.”

That definitely hit a nerve, but Ellie didn't flinch, nor said anything. He continued, a little softer this time, like a secret apology. “I'll text you the address. You don't have to come, but maybe you should. Think about it.”

With that the boy stood up grabbing his empty cup and left the coffee shop. An awkward silence filled the room, Ellie’s jaw tightened, at the end he was right, having sex with strangers wasnt exactly therapy but it got her through… in some fucked up way. Was it wrong? Maybe, Ellie never texted back any girl ever and just ghosted when she got what she needed. Toss and turn.

Later that day Ellie texted Jesse, briefly apologizing for being a dick to which he responded “When aren't you?.” Asshole. He sent her the address and by 9:30 Ellie was getting ready to leave. She stood in front of the mirror, jaw working as she tugged the black tank top over her head, the hem settling just above the waistband of her old patched up jeans, nothing very special- she didn't do special- hesitating on putting on a jacket or no, Jackson weather you never know. Her eyes lingered on her reflection for a little too long. The tank clung to her body in a familiar way. Safe. The jeans were her most reliable ones, just like her old converse she’d laced up so many times they were practically molded to her.

“Not a big deal, just another stupid party.” She ran her hands through her shaggy hair and decided she won’t put that much effort into it, bars are often dark so who cares- certainly not her. She took one last glance at the mirror before putting on Joel's old jacket and walking through the door of her apartment. The familiar weight of the jacket calmed her nerves a bit but not as much as the blunt in her fingers, she had stocked a few days ago, and a little pre game never fails to calm her down so she lit it up while waiting for Jesse and Dina to pull up the driveway. Jesse had offered to drive her to the party alongside Dina, even though Ellie had her own truck (an old ford truck inherited from Joel) he said it would be better if he was the assigned driver if they got a little too tipsy.

She often wondered how those too could stand each other for so long, when Ellie met Jesse at College he was already dating Dina and it’s been 4 years since then. They weren’t the perfect couple but surely knew how to get on each other's nerves, still always figured it out at the end. Ellie admired them for that and wished she was a little more like them.

Soon her thoughts dissolved into the crisp air of the night when Jesse pulled up on the driveway, he honked the horn as if the blinding lights didn't catch Ellie’s attention enough, “You are such an attention whore.” Ellie said, flicking the blunt away and stuffing her hands deep into the jacket pockets before entering the car.

The drive to the party was loud- music blasting, windows cracked, a new blunt being passed around like part of the ritual (courtesy of Ellie of course). It was their usual pregame, the kind that made her forget, even if just for a moment. With her friends, it was easy to laugh, to lean into the chaos and pretend the weight in her chest wasn’t still there. These were the moments that reminded Ellie not everything was awful. But the rush- the high, always felt like the drop of a roller coaster. And when Jesse finally parked the car, reality hit. Another night of pretending. Pretending nothing mattered, pretending the burn inside her wasn’t still there, quietly eating her alive.

“Don’t forget to rate me 5 stars and leave a tip” Jesse said jokingly, distracting Ellie from her self destructive thoughts”

Dina was the first one to enter the bar, the music almost deafening, the track was some popular song Ellie heard at the radio before, she didn't like it, but also didn’t exactly hate it. The place was packed as it usually is every Friday night, overflowing with bodies, laughter layering the loud music, and some good ol’ bar fight probably. Ellie trailed behind Jesse and Dina, already feeling the buzz fade into something heavier. She slipped her hands back into Joel’s jacket, like it would shield her from everything the weed could not.

They found a booth near the back, where the speakers didn’t rattle your bones quite as much. Dina, being the social butterfly she is, immediately recognized someone across the room, an old college classmate, but for Ellie it was one of those people who always remembers your face but not your name. Seconds later Jesse slid into the booth, scanning the bar like a minefield.

“Shot first, existential crisis later?” he offered, holding up two fingers to the bartender across the room.

Ellie nodded, managing a half-smile. “Make it three.”

As the night went on (and so did the shots) Ellie was sitting alone in the booth, Dina and Jesse long gone, probably dancing or making out somewhere in the dark, Ellie decided it was probably time for a smoke, to calm the headache she was starting to feel. She grabbed her jacket from her seat and made a beeline to the exit, the chill breeze of Jackson hitting her face like a slap she probably deserved.

Leaning against the crumbling brick wall outside the bar, the noise from inside was muffled out there. She pulled the blunt from her pocket, already half-rolled from earlier, and lit it with a practiced flick of her lighter, the smoke greeted her lungs like an old friend, welcoming the burn in her throat, grounding her a little as she exhaled through her nose. She took a second hit leaning her head against the wall, watching the people coming in and out of the bar, people watching was Ellie’s favorite activity while smoking, also because she could use it as an opportunity to check girls out, but that's when she saw you.

At least—she thought she did.

You were slipping through the bar’s entrance, swallowed up by a crowd of loud, laughing strangers. Just a flash of your face, the way your hair moved, throwing your head back laughing like someone who wasn’t her told the funniest joke of the world. Ellie blinked. Hard.

“No fucking way.” She cursed under her breath, squinting her eyes trying to steady herself. Was it the mix of weed and cheap alcohol in her system playing fucked up mind tricks on her? Either way, it didn't matter because she was already walking towards the crowd of people, like some magnetic force was pulling her in.

She pushed past two guys arguing about the cover charge. Her heart was thudding now—not like excitement. More like panic.

Inside, the lights hit her all wrong, too sharp, too bright. The music pulsed against her ribs. She scanned the crowd, pushing through, zeroing in on the back of that girl’s head.

Same jacket. Same posture. Same everything.

“Hey—” she started, grabbing the mysterious woman by the arm but when the girl turned around, it wasn’t you.

Of course it wasn’t you.

Her grip softened and she let go, the girl glared at her confused, and now Ellie could see, could really see that her eyes weren’t the same color as yours, her smile wasn’t as bright and welcoming as yours. And the worst part it’s not that she made a fool of herself, but that the girl was looking at her like she was a complete stranger. Which she was but to Ellie’s brain it just felt like she got hit by a thousand trains.

The brunette stepped back, the weight in her chest doubling. Her hands were shaking a little now, or maybe they always had been. She didn’t say anything. Just turned and pushed her way back outside.Too embarrassed to even apologize.

She felt like throwing up.

She found an empty corner right next to the bar, hunched over with her hands on her knees, breath coming sharp and uneven, gasping for air like she just ran a marathon. Her heart slammed heavily on her chest.

The cold didn’t even bother her this time. Her shaky hands reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, Her mind was fogged over, drifting somewhere else entirely. It was like she was watching herself from outside her own body.she didn’t know what she was doing just moving, automatic, like muscle memory took over, her fingers were clicking and swiping and then suddenly—

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was soft, confused.

Her head snapped up. She blinked at the screen in her hand.

Call in progress — You.

A beat of silence passed before she even realized what she’d done. Her breath hitched.

“…Shit.”

Your voice. Caught between sleepy and annoyed.

“Who’s this? Do you have any idea how late it is?”

Ellie’s breath hitched. For a second, she considered hanging up. Throwing the phone into the street. Pretending this never happened. But she wasn’t running this time.

“…It’s me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ellie.”

Silence. The kind that says everything and nothing at once.

“Ellie?”

Your voice softened. Then came the question she knew was coming—

“What– Why are you calling?”

She looked down at her converse, swallowing hard.

“I– I don't know I wasn't planning to, I'm just–” She tried to laugh it off. She couldn't believe this was happening.

“Are you drunk?” Your tone firm and dry

“I’m sorry i shouldn't have called , i dont know what the fuck im doing ok? I literally just called someone else your name. Just now.”

A shaky breath.

“Stupid, right?”

You didn't say anything, Ellies fingers tightened around the phone and your silence was enough to keep her bleeding. She was surprised that you hadn't hung up on her yet.

So Ellie kept talking.

“And I… I thought maybe if I just shoved it deep enough, it’d go away. Y’know? This—this fucking feeling. This ache that’s been stuck in me since you left. And I keep trying to bury it, like if I fake it hard enough, maybe it’ll stop hurting but it doesn’t. None of it works. Everything feels so…pointless. Like it doesn’t mean anything because… because there’s no you anymore.”

She breathes in sharp—like it physically hurts to say the next part.

“And burying it doesn’t fix shit. ‘Cause I still—”

A pause, her voice breaking on the edge. She didn't even realize tears had fallen down her freckled face. Savouring the salty drops as she opened her mouth.

“I still love you.”

There it was. She said it and she couldn't take it back anymore. It was real, and you were silent. Just like she had been when you were begging her to say something back then. Funny how life goes huh?

Silence. Again. you were completely frozen like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. But your thoughts vanished when a female voice called you up.

“Who is it babe?”

Babe.

Ellie froze. Her stomach twisted, breath catching like it forgot how to move.

Babe.

You didn’t answer the girl right away. But you didn’t deny it, either.

Ellie bit her cheek until she tasted blood. The universe was getting a big fucking laugh out from her. There was a long pause. Too long.

You didn’t mean to let it stretch, but your breath caught somewhere in your throat, and the words wouldn’t come out right.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“…Ellie.”

She didn’t say anything. You could hear her breathing—shaky, uneven, like she was crying?

“You can’t say things like that. Not now.”

You sounded softer than you meant to. Not angry. Just… broken.

“It’s not fair.”

Another pause. You swallowed hard.

“I have to go– I'm sorry, you should go home and sober up and just forget about it ok? That this phone call ever happened at all.”

You hesitated, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your throat.

“Please.”

It came out barely audible. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

A silence lingered between you, thick with everything neither of you were saying.

“You don’t get to do this now, Ellie. Not after all the times I waited for you to mean it.”

Your voice cracked.

And before Ellie could speak—before she could take it back, or say she was sorry again—

“Goodbye Ellie”

You hung up. The line went dead.

She backed into the wall behind her sliding down until she was sitting on the cold concrete, knees pulled in tight, Joel’s jacket wrapped around her like it might protect her from this ache.

But it didn’t.

She let her head fall forward, resting it on her arms. The tears came slowly at first, stubborn like her. But once they started, they didn’t stop. Silent, messy, no control. Her shoulders shook, her breath catching in her throat like she couldn’t even cry right.

“Fuck this” She muttered.

You didn’t say you didn’t love her.

You said it was too late.

Somehow, that hurt worse.

The words echoed in her skull. She let out a choked laugh—bitter and hollow. She hated how much it still mattered. Hated that she called you. Hated herself for waiting this long to say it, for saying it now, when it meant nothing anymore.

She sat there until her fingers went numb, until the night felt like it was swallowing her whole.

Her phone kept ringing like crazy, probably a worried Dina or a very upset Jesse at the end of the line. She ignored it, because it wasn't you.

Eventually, she stood—slow, unsteady, like her body was made of glass. Her jacket hung heavy on her shoulders, soaked in the scent of cheap beer, smoke, and everything she didn’t want to feel. She made her way back inside of the bar, reckless and hurt, in search of a body that could keep her warm tonight, someone to blur the edges, to drown out the echo of your voice still ringing in her head.

Maybe, just for a second, it would feel like she wasn’t completely alone.

The music hit her like a wave—loud, chaotic, the kind of beat that made it easy to forget. She didn’t care who was watching, or that her eyes were red and her face puffy. She moved through the crowd like a ghost with a drink in hand, brushing past strangers until she locked eyes with someone—pretty, familiar enough, not you.

Never you.

“Hey,” she said, voice low and rough. “Buy you a drink?”

The girl smiled, said something back—Ellie didn’t really hear it.

Didn’t matter.

She just needed something to ease the pain.

Even if it was empty.

Even if it was fake.

Even if it hurt worse in the morning.

She leaned in, chasing a flame that would burn out, pretending it didn’t sting when it wasn’t your hands she felt.

Pretending she didn’t just shatter a little more when the girl kissed her and all she could think was—

You.

It was still you.

Always you.

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧───

hope u guys liked it and lmk whatchu think, i’m open to suggestions and if u have any requests don’t hesitate to hmu <3!!!

[alohajix]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐚𝐩𝐞

Description: she said she wasn’t nervous. She said she'd never done this before. But then he walked in—and made her forget every lie she told herself. The Casting Tape — you only need to watch it once to come back for more.

Warnings: this one-shot includes explicit sexual content, including fingering, oral sex (M/F), face-fucking, rough grinding, dirty talk, praise kink, light choking, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), and graphic language. Readers +18.

Words count: ~ 7K.

I understand you guys really enjoyed “First Time for Everything”. So here’s a new one-shot I've been working on for a while, featuring pornstar!harry once again.

please enjoyyy💕

*****

I almost didn’t walk through the door. It looked too normal from the outside—just a nondescript black building sandwiched between a vape shop and a custom auto wrap place. No sign. No logo. Just a metal door and a tiny keypad. I stood there for a full minute, staring at my reflection in the door’s narrow glass panel, wondering what the hell I was doing. My fingers fidgeted with the zipper on my hoodie as I debated bailing. But then I remembered rent. And how many hours I’d spent reading that post.

“Paid casting opportunity. Professional, safe, filmed. No pressure to continue. Just be yourself.”

So I buzzed in. A soft click, and I stepped inside. The air was cool, sterile, quiet. A short hallway led to a room that looked more like a YouTube set than anything porn-related—white walls, gray backdrop, soft box lights aimed at a plain black leather couch. A camera was already set up on a tripod, its little red light blinking lazily like it was waiting. There was no one else in the room, just a low table with a water bottle and a clipboard. I approached it like it might bite.

“Hey there,” a voice called from behind me—low, male, casual. “You can grab a seat. We’ll start in a second.”

I turned to find a guy with a headset leaning against the doorframe, sipping coffee. He looked more like someone who worked in tech support than adult film, and he barely glanced at me. That helped a little. I gave him a tight smile and sat down on the couch, tucking one leg under the other. The camera stared back at me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my denim skirt.

“You go by your real name or a stage name?” the voice asked.

I hesitated. “Stage name.”

He chuckled. “Smart. What should we call you?”

“…Lola.” I don’t know where it came from. I didn’t even know anyone named Lola.

“Cute,” he said. “Alright, Lola. We’re just gonna ask you a few questions. Keep your eyes on the camera, speak clearly, be yourself.”

I nodded once. The camera light turned solid red.

“Tell us how old you are and why you’re here.”

My voice came out a little too fast. “Twenty-two. I—uh—I heard about this through a friend of a friend. Thought it might be… interesting.”

“And have you done anything like this before?”

I forced a smile. “Not professionally.”

He chuckled again, friendly but disinterested. “Good answer. So—this is a soft casting. No pressure to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We just want to see how you come across on camera. If it feels natural, maybe we’ll try a short chemistry test.”

My stomach flipped. “Chemistry test?”

“With a partner,” he clarified. “Clothed or not. Touching or not. Totally up to you.”

I swallowed hard. “And who’s the partner?”

“Hey, man,” the guy said suddenly, glancing over my shoulder. “You mind stepping in for a quick test?”

I didn’t hear footsteps. I felt them. Slow. Heavy. Purposeful. And then I heard his voice.

“Yeah. I’ve got time.” I turned. And immediately forgot how to breathe.

He walked in wearing a black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair tucked under a gray beanie, tattooed arms on full display. Calm. Comfortable. Like he belonged here. And when his eyes met mine—green, curious, knowing—I had to look away before I gave something away.

I knew who he was. Everyone who’s ever dipped into amateur porn knew who he was. He wasn’t just a pornstar—he was the pornstar. The one known for making people cry in the best way possible. The one who ruined girls for normal guys. The one I may or may not have watched the night I sent my application in.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice like silk. “I’m Harry.” Of course he was.

I tried to remember how to smile. “Hi.”

He looked me over—slowly, respectfully, but definitely. His gaze dragged from my hoodie to my bare thighs, then up to my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“You okay to keep going?” he asked. “Or just here to talk?” His tone was soft. Patient.

I bit my lip. I should’ve said no. I should’ve kept it simple. But the way he was looking at me… “Let’s try,” I said quietly.

His mouth curled into a half-smile. “We’ll go slow.”

He sat beside me on the couch, leaving just enough space between us that it felt intentional. His thigh brushed mine every time I shifted, and I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose—but I hoped it was.

The camera was still rolling. “You nervous?” he asked, his voice low and almost amused.

“A little,” I admitted. “You’re not exactly a nobody.”

He smiled at that—soft, slow, like he was letting the compliment soak into his skin.

“Well, I’ve done a few of these,” he said, tilting his body slightly toward me. “So if you want to stop at any point, you say the word. We good on that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Safe word or something?”

“We can use red. If you want to pause, say yellow. But honestly? Just talk to me. I listen.”

God, that shouldn’t have made my stomach twist—but it did. His hand landed gently on my knee. Just a touch. Nothing dirty. But the weight of it made my heart skip.

“Can I touch you a little more?” he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

He slid his hand up my thigh, slow and deliberate, until his fingers curled around the bare skin just beneath the hem of my skirt. His pinky brushed the side of my underwear. He didn’t move further. He just… held me.

“See? You’re already shaking a little,” he said, voice soft like a secret.

“I’m not,” I lied.

His thumb moved lazily across my thigh. “You are. That’s okay, though. Nervous is normal. But you look good nervous.”

I smirked despite myself. “Is that your line?”

“No,” he said, leaning in just a little. “That’s the truth.”

His other hand reached up, fingers playing with the zipper of my hoodie. He didn’t pull it down right away—he just watched my face.

“Can I?”

I nodded again. “Yeah.”

He tugged the zipper down, slow as hell. I didn’t wear a bra on purpose—I’d told myself it was about being comfortable, but I’d also known what kind of job this was. I’d wanted to feel like I was ready for it, even if I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He pushed the hoodie off my shoulders, revealing my thin tank top underneath—white, ribbed, tight. My nipples were already hard beneath the fabric.

His eyes dropped for half a second. “Fuck.”

“What?” I teased.

“You’re hot.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Didn’t expect that.”

I grinned. “You didn’t look me up before this?”

He leaned closer, lips near my ear. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Fuck. That got to me. I shifted in my seat, squeezing my thighs together, and his hand didn’t miss it.

“You get turned on easily, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Only when someone says shit like that.”

He chuckled, and it vibrated straight through me. “Alright then. Let’s see how much you can take before we even get your clothes off.”

He turned to face me fully, his hand now resting between my thighs, thumb pressing lightly at the crease where leg met hip. I was still covered, but it felt dangerously intimate.

“Look at me,” he said. I did.

His hand moved to my waist, sliding under the hem of my shirt. His palm was warm on my bare skin, fingertips grazing my ribcage, tracing just under the curve of my breast. His thumb brushed upward, catching the edge of my nipple through the fabric—and I gasped, barely holding still.

“Sensitive?” he asked, eyes still locked on mine. I nodded, biting my lip.

He pinched lightly—just enough to make me jerk—and then soothed the spot with his palm.

“You’re already breathing like you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“Maybe I just like the way you touch,” I whispered.

He grinned again. “Yeah?”

His other hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair as he leaned in. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Okay?”

I nodded. “Please.” And then he kissed me. Slow. Firm. One hand holding my jaw just right while the other teased under my shirt. His lips moved against mine like he had all the time in the world. He tasted like mint and something just a little bit sweet—god, it was unfair how good he was at this.

My mouth opened for him on instinct, tongue brushing his as he deepened the kiss. I whimpered before I meant to, and he smiled against my lips.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He pulled me onto his lap. I didn’t even realize I’d moved until I felt his thighs beneath mine, the stretch of my skirt riding up, the thick press of him already hard beneath me.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, hand splayed on my lower back.

“Yes.”

“You wanna keep your clothes on for now?”

I nodded again. “Let me stay like this.”

He gave a slow, approving nod. “Smart girl.”

I started to grind—tentatively, testing—and he held me tighter.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands stayed on my waist, guiding me. My panties were soaked through already, and he hadn’t even touched me properly. His cock pressed up against my center through both layers, and the friction was delicious.

“Feel what you’re doing to me?” he whispered. I nodded. “Good. Don’t stop.” I didn’t.

I rocked against him slowly, rhythmically, trying to match the pace of his hands, trying not to let my moans get too loud. But the fabric was slick, and I was clenching around nothing, desperate for more. He leaned up to kiss me again, slower this time, while grinding back into me with little thrusts of his hips.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered. “Using me to get yourself off. All clothed. So dirty, baby.”

God, baby—the way it rolled off his tongue nearly made me come.

“I wanna see you fall apart,” he said against my lips. “But not yet. Gotta take my time with you.”

I whimpered, hands clutching his shoulders. “Why?”

“‘Cause I want it to be unforgettable.”

I didn’t mean to drop to my knees. It just happened. One second, I was straddling him, moaning into his mouth, and the next, I was slipping down between his legs, hands trailing over his thighs like they belonged there. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t say a word—just leaned back on the couch and watched me with that slow-burning smirk, his chest rising and falling like he already knew what I was going to do next.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice husky.

I nodded as I settled between his thighs, reaching for the waistband of his sweats. “You’ve been hard since I got here.”

His brow ticked up. “And you think that means you get to do something about it?”

I looked up at him, tilted my head innocently. “I know I do.”

He grinned. “Cocky.”

“I learned from the best,” I said, tugging his sweats down just enough to free him. And fuck.

I’d seen it before—on screens, in videos—but nothing prepared me for the way it looked up close. Thick, long, already leaking at the tip. Veins along the shaft. His entire body was unfair, but this? This was just cruel.

I wrapped my hand around him slowly.

“You gonna stare at it all day, or you gonna do something?” he teased.

I licked a long stripe from the base to the tip, just to shut him up. His breath caught.

“Mouth open,” he murmured. I obeyed, letting my tongue hang out as I stroked him slowly. He was heavy in my hand, warm and twitching, and when I finally took him into my mouth, I moaned like it was for me, not him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, his head tipping back. “You’re better than half the girls I’ve filmed with.”

I pulled back just enough to say, “That supposed to make me feel special?”

He looked down at me with a grin. “It should.” Then he shifted his hips forward a little, his hand slipping into my hair. “Hold still,” he said. “Let me fuck your mouth a little.”

I whimpered, nodding as he gathered my hair in his fist and guided me back down. His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, testing. He pushed past my lips and onto my tongue, letting me feel every inch. I hollowed my cheeks around him, drool already sliding down my chin. The angle made my throat ache—but I didn’t care. He watched every second.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Look at me. Eyes up. Fuck—just like that.” I moaned around him, and he groaned in return, gripping my hair tighter. “You like this?” he asked. “Being used a little?”

I blinked up at him, spit trailing from my lip to the base of his cock. “Yes.”

“How filthy are you, baby?”

I swallowed him deeper before answering. “Wanna choke on it.”

He smirked, that filthy edge sharpening in his eyes. “Greedy girl.”

He held my jaw and started to fuck into my mouth harder, sloppier. My mascara was running—I could feel it—and my knees were going numb, but I didn’t care. Not when he was groaning and panting above me, thumb wiping spit from the corner of my mouth.

“Open wider,” he growled. “Let me all the way in.”

I did. He pushed in until the tip hit the back of my throat, and I gagged—but he didn’t stop. He stayed there for a second, watching the tears spill down my cheeks before pulling back with a wet, obscene pop.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” I blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked, lips puffy and slick. “You want me to come in your mouth?” he asked.

“No.” He raised a brow. “I want more than that.” He stared at me for a beat. Then he reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me gently to my feet.

“Take your clothes off.”

I hesitated, chest heaving. “All of them?”

“All of them,” he said softly. “Want to see what kind of mess I’ve made.”

I peeled off my hoodie first, even though it had already been unzipped. My tank top followed, sticky with sweat. Then my skirt. Then my panties—soaked, clinging to my thighs. His eyes drank me in.

“You’re soaked.”

“You made me like this.”

He stood up—slow, deliberate—and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my neck, then lower, until he was kneeling in front of me.

“You ever squirt before?” he asked, voice low.

I swallowed hard. “No.”

He smirked. “Might today.” Then he leaned in and dragged his tongue across my inner thigh.

He didn’t go for my pussy right away. Instead, he kissed every inch around it—my thighs, the crease of my hip, the patch of skin just above my mound. His hands wrapped around my legs, holding me steady as he took his time. The anticipation had my stomach fluttering, my cunt clenching around nothing, desperate to be touched.

“Please,” I whispered, shifting.

He looked up at me from between my legs, his lips shiny with spit. “Yeah?”

I nodded, breath shaky. “I—I need—”

He slid one finger up my slit, slow as hell. “You need this?” he asked, teasing my clit with the lightest touch. “Or my mouth?”

“Both.”

He grinned. “Good answer.” Then he dove in.

His mouth latched around my clit like he’d missed it, like he owned it. His tongue flicked and sucked, alternating between slow pressure and fast strokes that made my legs tremble. I cried out, one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other tangled in his hair. He moaned against me when I tugged, and I felt it vibrate through my whole body.

“F-fuck,” I gasped. “Harry—”

“You taste so sweet,” he muttered between licks. “Could stay here all day.”

He pushed two fingers into me while his tongue kept working, curling them just right. My back arched off the couch, a moan ripping from my throat so loud I was sure the mic picked it up.

“That’s it,” he said. “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

I was already on the edge, too fast, too intense—and he knew it.

“You close?” he asked, sliding his fingers faster, deeper, hitting every nerve ending I had.

I nodded, gasping. “Yes—yes—fuck, don’t stop—” He stopped. Pulled back. Fingers still inside me, but barely moving. I whimpered. “Why—”

“Cause I want you to come on my cock, not my tongue.”

“Fucking mean,” I whispered.

He smirked. “You like it.” I hated how right he was.

He stood and kicked off his sweats fully this time, leaving him completely naked—tall, lean, toned. Tattoos stretched across his chest, down his arms. His cock was heavy and thick, standing up proudly, still slick from my mouth. He grabbed a condom from the table behind him—but I stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Don’t,” I said softly. His eyes locked on mine.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’m clean. On the pill. I want to feel all of you.”

His jaw clenched. “Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me.”

He climbed back onto the couch, pulling me into his lap again. This time, we were both naked. Skin against skin. He lined himself up with one hand, the other gripping my waist.

“Take it slow,” he murmured. I did. I sank down on him inch by inch, gasping at the stretch, the burn, the way he filled me up so deep I thought I might break.

He kept eye contact the whole time. “Look at you,” he said. “Taking it so well.”

I whimpered when I bottomed out, thighs shaking.

“So fucking tight,” he growled. “You weren’t made for this, were you?”

I moaned. “Maybe I was made for you.” That broke something in him.

His hands gripped my hips, and he started to move—slow thrusts upward that hit just right. I rocked against him, chasing friction, rolling my hips as he fucked up into me.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Harry.”

“Louder.”

“Harry.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So fucking good,” I gasped. “You’re so deep—fuck—it’s so good.” His hand came up to my throat, not squeezing, just holding.

“You’re gonna come like this?” he asked. “Like a needy little slut in my lap?”

I nodded frantically. “Yes—please, I need it—I need to come—”

“Then come.”

I shattered. The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through me in pulses that left me crying out his name, clinging to him, hips still rocking even as I trembled. He held me through it, whispered praise into my ear.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “So fucking good for me.” But he wasn’t done. He flipped me over onto the couch, face-down, ass up. “Not finished with you yet,” he growled.

He slid back into me easily, grabbing my hips and fucking into me hard now—rough, deep, animalistic. My cheek pressed against the cushion, mouth open as he pounded into me.

“You want it rough?” he panted. “You want to feel how hard you made me?”

“Y-yes—fuck—yes—”

He slapped my ass, hard. “Say you love it.”

“I fucking love it.”

“Say who’s fucking you.”

“Harry—Harry’s fucking me—please don’t stop—”

He leaned over me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other holding my throat as he fucked me from behind. Skin slapping, breath ragged, everything filthy and perfect.

“Gonna come on you,” he groaned. “Wanna see you dripping.”

“Yes,” I begged. “Do it—please—come on me—”

He pulled out just in time, stroking himself fast before spilling hot all over my lower back and ass, groaning through gritted teeth. I lay there, trembling, dripping, wrecked. Breathing like I’d run a marathon.

He exhaled a long breath, letting it hang in the quiet between us. The only sound now was the soft hum of the camera still rolling. The red light blinked steadily, like it had witnessed every filthy, raw second of what just happened. Harry sat back, eyes scanning over me like he wasn’t sure if he was done yet—or just trying to memorize how I looked. Wrecked. Flushed. My hair a mess. My thighs still trembling.

“Stay there a sec,” he said, voice a little rougher than before.

I blinked up at him, cheek still pressed to the couch cushion, and nodded. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm towel. He didn’t rush—just knelt beside me, gently wiping me clean, taking his time like he actually cared. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was just good at playing the part. But something about the way his fingers grazed my skin, soft and unhurried, made my chest ache.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking up to mine.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just… that was a lot.”

A slow grin pulled at his mouth. “Good lot or bad lot?”

“Really good.”

He handed me the towel and stood up to grab water bottles. When he tossed one to me, I caught it with shaky hands.

“You looked like you’ve done that before,” he said, sitting down beside me again—close, but not touching.

“I haven’t,” I replied, twisting the cap off. “Not like that.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

I smiled. “Trust me. I’d remember if someone ever made me feel like that before.” He went quiet, watching me sip.

“You ever actually plan on watching the footage?” I looked at him. At the blinking red light still recording.

“I kind of want to,” I admitted.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll show you mine… if you come back and film another one.” I stared at him, half smiling, half stunned.

“You saying that to everyone who comes through here?”

“Nope.” He leaned in just slightly, voice lower. “Just the ones who moan my name like they mean it.”

I laughed, flushed, and shook my head. “You’re dangerous.”

He smirked. “Only on camera.” I didn’t believe that for a second. But I wanted to find out.

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[wikiangela]

you know when you know (I think I do)

rating: G words: 1.4k

[read on Ao3]

___

“So, you and Buck.” Eddie finally gets on the topic he was clearly inching towards the whole evening. Tommy’s lips involuntarily turn up into a smile.

“Yeah. What about us?” He asks, still turned towards the TV, then takes a sip of his beer.

“You guys are, uh, together. Dating.” Eddie fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, sounding a little hesitant and awkward.

“Have been for weeks now.” Tommy nods, smile widening at the mere thought of Evan. He leans his head back against the back of the couch, then turns more towards Eddie. “Any particular reason you’re bringing it up now?”

“Uh, not really. I mean, I’m so happy for you guys, and, uh, it’s none of my business, I just-” He takes a deep breath. Tommy waits, curious about what his friend might have to say. “Listen, Tommy, I don’t wanna be one of these friends who’s all ‘if you hurt him, I’ll kill you’, that’s not me.” Eddie starts, cringing at the words. “Besides, he’s a grown man who’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

“True.” Tommy nods. He can already see where Eddie’s going with it. Tommy finds it sweet how much people in Evan’s life love him and care for him, and are protective of him, but not to a weird or unhealthy degree. He can appreciate that.

“But he’s my best friend.” Eddie continues. “And I just worry.”

“Okay?” Tommy prompts when Eddie falls silent, a frown on his face, like he’s considering his next words.

“He’s been through a lot. In general, but also relationship-wise. I’ve seen only part of it, but I’ve heard it all. And I just- I don’t want him to get hurt again.” 

“I’m not planning to hurt him, Eddie.” Tommy says softly. It’s obvious, and he knows what Eddie meant, but he wants to voice it anyway. He would never, ever, in a million years, do anything that could even remotely hurt his Evan. And if he did so unknowingly, he doesn’t think he’d forgive himself. Evan is such a ray of sunshine, he’s so good and sweet, and genuine, and Tommy would do anything just to keep that radiant smile on his face. 

“I know that.” Eddie shakes his head briefly. “People rarely do. It’s just that, Buck always gives a thousand percent of himself into everything.” A fond smile appears on his face, and Tommy is once again witness to the amazing bond those two have. This kind of friendship is so rare, they’re both so lucky to have each other – and Tommy is lucky to be let into it, even just a little bit. “Once he’s in, he’s in. And, Tommy,” Eddie looks him in the eyes, “Buck is definitely in, all the way, no turning back. He’s falling for you so hard and so fast, and letting all his guards down. Because that’s Buck, that’s what he does. And I just don’t want him to get too deep before you’re ready, before you’re both ready, and I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I get it.” Tommy nods once, because of course he sees where Eddie’s coming from. “But you have nothing to worry about, Eddie. With Evan…” His lips curl into a smile around the word. “I’m already so far gone.” He shakes his head a little. “I know it’s soon, but I’m really falling for him.” He says quietly, but surely. He’s not used to this, talking about his feelings, about dating, about a person he’s seeing, especially not with someone he’s only known for such a short time. But he and Eddie became fast friends, and he’s Evan’s best friend, and Tommy feels safe enough to say it. He’s also honest and straightforward, and he likes to say it how it is, and this is how it is. He’s falling – or, to be honest, has fallen already – very fast and very hard for Evan Buckley, and he doesn’t feel the need to hide it. Evan is it for him. And he’s going to tell him that soon.

“Good.” Eddie says, tone serious, but a soft smile is forming on his lips. “He’s very lovable. You’d be an idiot to not fall for him.”

“I know.” Tommy grins. From the moment they met, he knew there’s something about Evan, something that pulled him in, got his attention right away. They laughed about it later, after they officially started dating and talked about that whole situation, how Evan put so much effort into trying to get his attention, but he had it anyway, from the start. Tommy was just more subtle about it, and he couldn’t figure out if Evan was flirting that day he gave him the Harbor tour or not. Seems like even Evan didn’t know. He’s so adorable, and kind, and bright and happy like sunshine personified. How was Tommy supposed to take one look at him and not develop a crush, that only seems to keep intensifying the more he gets to know him?

“And, for the record, I don’t want you to get hurt, either. We’re friends, too. Unless you break my best friend’s heart, that is.” He adds, his tone a little teasing, before his smile changes into something fond and genuine. “I’m really happy you guys found each other, truly. I’ve never seen him like this.” He chuckles quietly, shakes his head. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I can already tell you two just make sense. So, take good care of my best friend, Kinard.”

“Of course. I plan on it.” Tommy says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. 

“Just, not too much PDA when I’m hanging out with you guys, yeah?” He grimaces. “I don’t wanna feel like I’m third-wheeling a boys' night.” He laughs, and so does Tommy.

“Well, I’m not really a big PDA guy anyway.” He shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But who knows, I can’t really keep my hands to myself around Evan.”

“And it’s time to change the subject,” he shakes his head furiously, “I don’t wanna hear more than I have to. Buck already tells me way too much.” Eddie says quickly, and Tommy laughs again. 

But the subject changes, and their attention is mostly back on the game playing on the TV. They spend the rest of the evening like this, watching sports, drinking beer and chatting. That’s how Evan finds them when he lets himself into Tommy’s house later, since he left the door unlocked.

He walks into the room, says hi to Eddie, then unceremoniously plops down in Tommy’s lap, giving him a long, sweet kiss, smiling into it. Tommy’s free hand circles around his waist, the other still holding his beer.

“Hello to you, too, Evan, how was your day?” Tommy chuckles when they pull away, his nose rubbing against Evan’s. He was spending the day with Jee-Yun, giving Maddie and Howie the day to themselves.

“It was good, we went to the playground, and then to help Bobby and Athena with unpacking, and then had coffee at Hen’s.” Evan grins, his face still so close to Tommy’s he almost looks blurry. “But I missed you so much.” He presses another kiss to Tommy’s lips, which Tommy obviously reciprocates. When he pulls away and glances at Eddie, expecting him to have an amused but annoyed look on his face, or maybe a faux-disgust, but what he finds instead is the fondest, proudest look he’s seen from him, as he looks straight ahead at the TV, giving them a semblance of privacy. Eddie looks just genuinely so happy for his best friend, for both of them. It warms Tommy’s heart. Eddie glances at them, and their eyes meet, and he just rolls his eyes fondly, but is still smiling.

“Okay, baby, I missed you, too, but let’s leave that for later or Eddie won’t want to hang out with us anymore.” Tommy says, and Evan pulls away further, chuckling.

“Eh, we always have each other.” He teases and shrugs, and Eddie scoffs loudly.

“You know I can’t watch basketball with you. Or do Muay Thai.” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving Evan a knowing look. He can barely watch any sports with Evan, actually, because he never really gets into it, and whenever he gets bored, somehow they end up making out through the whole thing. Evan’s really good at distracting Tommy from just about anything.

“Oh, that’s all you need me for?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Fine, then I’ll just leave you two-” he starts getting up, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Sit down and drink your beer.” Buck laughs, as he climbs off Tommy’s lap and pulls out a phone out of his pocket. Eddie sits back down, laughing as well. “I’m gonna order pizza for dinner. Any preferences?”

[read also on Ao3]

[thinkingotherwise]

I saw your post about Wind Breaker I was instantly hooked I was like FINALLY SOMEONE KNOW AND READ IT TOO….If can do you mind making a head canon about Jo Togame🙏. At this point I’m eating any crumbs that you left

Not to be biased but.. I love this man the most

Please Togame has the same VA as Shirosaki from 'My new boss is goofy' and I'm actually cryin' from laughter 😂 😂

Jo Togame making you his with your help

Spoilers for after the fight with Sakura

- Togame was a mystery to you, you heard some of the people talking about him being the second-in-command in Shishituren.

- Because of the rumours you knew him as someone scary and tough, a thug if you will, and tried to avoid him as soon as you knew what he looked like, when one of your friends pointed him out in your neighbourhood.

- Later on, you got to know he visited the nearby public bathhouse, you were shocked at the discovery but still tried to keep your distance from him.

- Whenever you saw the familiar sunglasses and the Shishituren jacket you became nervous and tried to hide in one of the alleys or behind the parked cars.

- But as time passed, you might have been still scared of him but you found yourself seeking him out on the streets.

- You noticed him walking down the street more often, his face more relaxed than ever before and his hair loose.

- You thought he actually looked quite nice like that, the usual rigidness gone and a small smile from time to time appearing on his face.

- Little did you know the smile was caused by you and your failed hide 'n seek game. Once you almost tripped over your own feet trying to hide behind the corner of the street and he found it hilarious.

- The day you officially met him, it was in one of the most cliche ways. You stared at him so much you walked in the streetlamp making him openly laugh at you.

- Yet he still came to your side and helped you up, asking if you were alright. He also brought some ice from the nearby shop and iced your forehead.

- Thanks to that you started talking and noticed he was actually nice and you somehow got along well.

- After befriending him you spent your days meeting each other and you either eat takeout or play some board games.

- He loved eating food and would always compete with you for the last piece of whatever it was you ordered.

- And while he tried to teach you how to play go, he was so overjoyed. Only because you always lost and he liked to see you slowly getting irritated.

- Togame thought you made such cute faces whenever something didn't go according to your plans.

- He would sometimes let you win just so you wouldn't stop playing with him.

- Everything was going swimmingly between the two of you. You got along well, but there was one thing you couldn't stop. You started liking Togame a little too much.

- Your mind started to drift towards him too frequently for it to be only friendly.

- And well when you decided to finally ask him out on a real date, not a hangout as friends, you thought you would write him a letter. He seemed like the old-type guy always wearing those monk-like clothes so a confession letter seemed perfect in your opinion.

- Unfortunately, before you could finish the written confession and gather some confidence to share it with him, he came to you for another late-night meeting.

- He brought some takeout as usual and when you went to retrieve the board game you left him alone in your living room. And because of the shock of him coming unannounced, you didn't realize you left him with your feelings written on the paper.

- While waiting for you he found the crumbled papers lying in the corner and got curious picking one of them and straightening it.

- The moment you came back to the room you were shocked, to say the least, and you didn't know what to do. Frozen in place your eyes were stuck on Togame reading through one of your attempts at confession letters.

- "What are you d-doing?!"

- You stuttered your voice rising in nervousness.

- Togame turned to you a smirk evident on his face, he picked the paper up and showed it to you casually.

- "Oh, just reading this thing."

- Your heart was beating unusually fast and you gripped the board and the pouch you held tighter. You were so flustered, you didn't plan this. What were you supposed to do now that he read this?

- He laughed at your awkwardness and stood up, the paper still in hand he took slow steps towards you.

- "You've got some way with words."

- He said and your gaze fell to the floor. He then leaned over you.

- "If you are serious, I'd be glad to be your boyfriend."

- His voice sent a shiver through your spine and you gazed at his face surprised.

- You slowly nodded your head in a daze and he snorted grabbing at your shoulders and pulling you towards his chest.

- Togame kept his tight hold on you, one of his hands moving around your back and the other combing through your hair.

- You returned the hug dropping the things in your hands to grab at the jacket of Togame's keeping him close thinking it must be some kind of dream.

- But his warmth confirmed that it truly was reality.

- Just like that, he used the chance you gave him to finally make you his. And you just knew he would be such a good and loyal boyfriend.

Tags: @misticbullet

[dioslesbianwife]

I read and loved the jofoes with the dio his daughter who was born a vampire can I please it platonic for the Jojo's.

Her feeling bad for the pain her father caused and now is protecting the Jojo's

How whoud giorno react to her looking like the man in the picture and finding out they are siblings.🤔

sure! hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting (i made the reader diego's sister for johnny's headcannon since it made more sense) :333

Jonathan Joestar

Shocked but deeply conflicted. You are the child of the man who ruined his life- who stole his body, murdered his father, and caused him endless suffering.

But Jonathan is too kind to hold your lineage against you. He believes that everyone deserves a chance to define themselves.

That being said, he can’t help but look for traces of Dio in you. Do you share his cruelty? His arrogance? Or are you completely different?

Once Jonathan realizes that you are not your father, he treats you with the same kindness he offers everyone.

He is very protective, almost to a fault. Even if you’ve never met Dio, Jonathan does not want history to repeat itself.

He worries that you might feel isolated because of your origins, so he makes sure to remind you that you are more than Dio’s child, you are your own person.

He never stops feeling uneasy about your lineage, but he trusts you.

“Your father was my greatest enemy, but you… you are my friend. And I will always stand by your side.”

Joseph Joestar

“WAIT, HOLD ON- YOU’RE WHOSE KID?!”

Unlike Jonathan, Joseph does not handle this gracefully. He is shocked, dramatic, and maybe a little freaked out.

He immediately starts making assumptions. “DO YOU HAVE VAMPIRE POWERS? DO YOU DRINK BLOOD? ARE YOU IMMORTAL?!”

He warms up fast once he realizes you’re just a normal (or at least semi-normal) person.

“Does Granny Erina know about this?!.”

He’ll tease you constantly, calling you “Countess” or “Lil’ Vampire.”

But deep down, he’s got your back. He knows what it’s like to be tied to something bigger than yourself, and he won’t let anyone treat you badly just because of your bloodline.

He never stops finding it funny, but he also never lets it define you.

“So what if you’re Dio’s kid? You’re also my friend, and that counts for way more.”

Jotaro Kujo

Blank stare. Slow blink.

“...Okay.”

He genuinely does not react much. If this is before the final battle in part 3, he’s never met Dio- only knowing him as a threat to be destroyed.

He might be a little wary, but he won’t judge you immediately.

Jotaro watches you carefully at first. Not because he distrusts you, but because he wants to see who you are outside of Dio’s shadow.

Once he sees that you’re not like your father, he just shrugs and moves on.

He will deck anyone who tries to treat you differently because of your lineage. “She’s not Dio. Get over it.”

He hates talking about Dio, so if you ever bring up your father, expect him to change the subject immediately.

He respects you for being your own person. Your bloodline doesn’t matter to him- only your actions.

“Your father doesn’t define you. You do.”

Josuke Higashikata

“…Who the hell is Dio??”

He’s not scared or angry if you or Jotaro explain, he’s just straight-up fascinated.

“So… you have, like, crazy vampire powers or something?”

He does not hold Dio’s actions against you. To him, you’re just you.

If you’ve never met Dio, which is likely, he empathises with you.

If anyone gives you a hard time about it, he immediately stands up for you.

Josuke is super chill about it. He doesn’t see why it should matter.

He loves cracking jokes about it, though. 

Josuke will happily beat up anyone who tries to compare you to Dio.

He genuinely doesn’t care about your father. You’re his friend, and that’s all that matters.

“Forget about Dio. You’re awesome.”

Giorno Giovanna (Half-Sibling)

Shocked, but composed. He never expected to have a sibling, especially one from Dio’s bloodline.

At first, when he looks at Dio's photo and notices the resemblance, he’s curious. Do you share any of Dio’s traits? 

But most of all, he wonders if you suffered as he did.

Giorno feels a deep responsibility toward you as his sister. He knows what it’s like to be alone, and he won’t let you feel that way.

He’s protective whether you like it or not.

If you struggle with your identity, he’ll be the first to tell you: “We are not him. We never have to be.”

If you ever feel ashamed of your lineage, he will not stand for it. “You are more than our father’s shadow.”

He accepts you completely. If you ever need a true family, he’ll be there.

Jolyne Cujoh

“Uh… who?”

Jolyne doesn’t know anything about Dio. To her, he’s just some villain from her dad’s past.

So when you tell her, she just goes, “Okay? And?”

Jolyne literally does not care. To her, you’re just a person.

“Do you think I care who your dad was? If you’re cool, you’re cool.”

She’ll fight anyone who tries to treat you differently.

She loves messing with you, though. “If you have evil vampire villain powers, you have to tell me. That’s the law.”

You’re her friend, end of story.

“Who gives a damn about Dio? You’re my partner in crime, and that’s what matters.”

Johnny Joestar (Diego’s Sister)

“...Diego is your brother? That Diego? …Fuck.”

Skeptical at first, because Diego was not exactly a nice guy.

He’s cautious, but not…TOO unkind.

Once Johnny sees that you’re nothing like Diego, he warms up more.

He actually feels bad for you if people judge you because of Diego. “You didn’t ask for him to be your brother.”

If you’re ever feeling insecure, he’s surprisingly gentle about it.

He’ll joke, “Hey, at least you’re not a complete bastard like your brother.”

He doesn’t see you as Diego’s sister- he sees you as his friend.

“You’re way better than your brother, just saying.”

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

“Huh. Neat.”

Like Jolyne, he doesn’t know or care about Dio.

He does not make a big deal out of it.

Treats you like any other friend.

Completely unfazed. He just shrugs and moves on.

“You want some takoyaki?”

“Your dad’s some evil vampire? Craaazy. …Pass the soy sauce.”

[keikikait]

Hi!

I loved Home Movies so I was wondering if you could do another Steve smut. Something where he gets jealous and gets really rough with the reader?

Thanks!

ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴇ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

if you want to read my other steve smut, click here!

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader (au (but still the 80's), but both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 3.3k

summary: you wouldn't actually go out with jason...would you?

warnings: SMUT WARNING 18+!, friends/coworkers to lovers, jason is a shithead, VERY SLIGHT reader x jason, dom!steve, sub!reader, p in v, birth control is not mentioned but is implied (wrap it b4 u tap it gang), use of the word 'slut' once, cunnilingus for a second, nipple play, steve can get kinda rough, SLIGHT orgasm denial, creampie, cum eating mention (?), not proofread

a note: i don't think i slayed with this...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

It was an abnormally quiet Friday night.

You sit at the counter of Family Video, making paper stars out of a McDonald's straw wrapper, waiting for either a customer or for the clock to strike 10pm so you could finally close. Whichever came first.

Steve walks around the store, sweeping up quite literally nothing, just trying to find a way to kill the last 15 minutes before close. He had already faced the VHS tapes, restocked the candy, and put away the returns. Part of him wishes he just didn’t do it all so quickly.

“Where is everyone?” Steve finally breaks the silence, leaning against the counter, setting the broom against it. “I thought it was Friday night.”

You shrug. “Maybe at the game.”

Steve scoffs, propping himself up on his hands. “Who would pick spending their Friday night watching a basketball game over watching a movie? I mean, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge just came out last month!”

You sigh, folding over the strip of paper, continuing to craft your star. “Maybe they don’t want to watch a horror movie in December.”

Steve groans, dramatically leaning against the counter again. “Save me from this boredom, please, pretty girl. I just want to go home.”

The door opens and the bell dings.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video.” You both say simultaneously. 

You look over the counter, pushing on your elbows to see around the shelf. Jason Carver lazily walks in, hands shoved in his letterman’s jacket pockets as he glances around. You immediately lose interest, sitting back down on the stool. You start to work on your paper star again.

“Hey man, what's up?” Steve greets Jason casually, leaning back against the counter. All things considered, they were friendly with each other. They were old teammates in high school, after all. He glances at the clock - still ten minutes left until closing time. “What happened to the game?”

Jason shrugs nonchalantly as he approaches the counter. “The game ended early and now everyone's heading to the after party.” He pauses, glancing between you and Steve. “You guys coming?”

Steve frowns slightly, looking over at you, still engrossed in your origami project. “Uh, I'm not sure yet. Might head home, actually.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Really? Passing up free beer and babes for a night alone? That's not like you, Steve.”

“Yeah well…” Steve trails off, shrugging. Jason’s gaze shifts to you. He leans on the counter, tapping his hands on it. 

You sigh, sitting up straighter. You hated these stupid fucking barstools. “I’m not going either, Jason.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise as he leans closer. “Oh yeah? Got plans tonight, then?” His tone was curious, but there was something else there…jealousy perhaps?

No. Of course not.

You shake your head. “Nope, just not feeling up for it. I’m tired.” You look back down at the straw wrapper, continuing to fold it. You were almost done.

Jason scoffs, tapping the table. “Well, that’s shitty. The hottest girl in our entire college is sitting my party out. What’s the world coming to?” Your nose scrunches slightly. You already didn’t like Jason, but the way he was talking about you was leaving a sour, vinegary taste in your mouth.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders. “It’s not my scene, Jason. You know that.”

Jason stares at you for a moment, taking you in. He wasn’t admiring you, he was looking at you hungrily. “Come on, sweetheart. Not even for me?”

“Not even for you,” You say. “Parties just aren’t my thing.”

Steve frowns at Jason's comment, crossing his arms. "Dude, come on. Don't be a creep." He glanced over at you, trying to convey sympathy through his expression.

Jason laughs, waving a hand dismissively. “What? I'm just inviting her. No need to get all defensive.” He turns back to you, smirking. “You know, if you change your mind, you're always welcome at my place.”

“I appreciate the offer,” you reply dryly. “But I think I'm good.” You finish folding the straw wrapper into a tiny star and set it aside, trying to find something else to do. Anything to avoid looking at him.

Jason turns his attention back to Steve momentarily. “You know, Nancy’s gonna be there.”

That causes Steve to tense up slightly, his jaw clenching. “She is?”

“Yeah, man.” Jason says. “Heard she and Byers are taking a break. This is your shot, man.”

Steve clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I guess I might swing by for a bit then. Do you think I could convince her to get back with me?”

“Yeah, dude, totally.” Jason says, picking up the star you made. He rolls it between his fingers. “She’ll be all over you before midnight. You know, I heard she still wears underwear with the days of the week on them.”

Steve chuckles, standing up from the counter. “She wasn’t when she was dating me.”

Something in your stomach twists at the idea of Steve getting back with Nancy. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nancy, you did, you just thought they were over. You thought that you and Steve were starting to feel something for each other, always sending each other flirty glances during your shifts. He even called you ‘pretty girl’. Apparently you were wrong.

You press your lips together. Might as well shoot your shot with Jason, right?

“You know what, Jason?” You suddenly interject, leaning across the counter. “Maybe I do wanna go.”

Steve looks surprised at your sudden change of heart, raising an eyebrow. “You do? I thought you weren't feeling it…”

Jason grins, tossing the star back onto the counter. “Told ya, Steve. My parties are where it's at.” He leans closer to you, your faces almost touching. His breath smells of menthol cigarettes and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop from gagging. “You wanna come with me, baby?”

Gross. “Yeah, I’d love to.” The lie flows off of your tongue quickly. 

Steve watches the exchange between you two, a mix of confusion and disappointment on his face. He places his hands on the counter. “You want to go with Jason? Of all people? You don’t even like Jason.”

“I’m right here, man—”

“Maybe I like him now.” You cut Jason off. “You don’t know me better than I do.”

Steve scowls, clearly unhappy with the situation unfolding before him. “Whatever, suit yourself.” He straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just don't say I didn't warn you.”

Jason reaches out, lightly slapping your cheek. “I’ll let you close up, sweet thing. I’ll be outside.”

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, the bell dinging as the door shuts.

You both close the store in silence. You count the register before putting the money in the safe as Steve shuts the door, puts up the barricade, and turns on the alarm. 

You can feel him staring at you as he approaches the counter. You look over at him. “What?”

Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair. “You're really going to go with him? After everything we've...talked about?” He steps closer, his brown eyes intense. “I thought maybe there was something between us. But I guess I was wrong.”

His gaze drops to your lips briefly before meeting yours again. There's a flicker of hurt and confusion in his expression. “Fine. Go have fun with Jason then. See if I care.” He turns away, dismissing you.

“I’m only going with him because you’re going to get back together with Nancy.” You admit, walking around the counter to stand in front of him. You had no reason to lie. “As if I would actually be caught dead with Jason out of my own volition.”

Steve stops in his tracks, turning around to face you fully. His eyes narrow, a hint of anger flashing in their depths. “Excuse me? You think I'd choose Nancy over you?” He takes a step closer, his voice lowering. “Is that what this is about? Jealousy?”

The air between you crackles with tension as Steve looms over you, his presence overwhelming. You can smell the lingering scent of aftershave, mixed with a faint hint of cologne. His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you worry he might lunge at you.

But instead, he reaches out, gripping your chin firmly. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. If I wanted Nancy, I wouldn't be wasting my time with you.”

“You say that yet you never do anything, Stevie.” You say. “Jason is at least honest that he wants me.”

Steve's grip on your chin tightens slightly, his brow furrowing. “Honest? Is that what you call it?” He releases you abruptly, stepping back and raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Jason doesn't give a damn about you beyond using you for his own entertainment.”

He sighs. “And as for me, maybe I am hesitant to make a move because I don't want to ruin what we have. We work well together, pretty girl. Let's not screw that up over some misplaced feelings.” Despite his words, you notice the way his gaze lingers on your lips, the slight flush creeping up his neck. Steve is struggling with his own desires, torn between caution and the undeniable attraction between you.

“My feelings aren’t misplaced.” You say. 

Steve's eyes search yours, a mix of longing and uncertainty in their depths. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Steve exhales slowly, dropping his arms to his sides. “Okay, fine. Maybe they're not.” He takes another step closer, until he's mere inches from you. “But what happens after we admit these feelings? We both know our lives are complicated enough without adding romance to the mix.”

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers down your spine. “Tell me, pretty girl, what do you want from me?”

“All I want is you.” You say softly.

Steve's breath catches at your confession, his hand stilling against your cheek. His eyes darken with desire, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he struggles to maintain control. “You don't know what you're asking for,” he warns, his voice low and rough. But despite his words, he leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. Your heart races, anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

“Last chance to back out,” Steve murmurs, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Because once I kiss you, there's no going back.”

You lean up and kiss him. 

As soon as your lips meet, the world seems to fade away, leaving only the electric connection between you and Steve. He groans softly into the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he deepens the embrace.

Tongues dance, tasting and exploring, the passion between you explosive. Steve pulls you flush against his body, his hardness pressing insistently against your belly. You can feel the heat of his arousal, stoking the flames of your own desire.

Breaking the kiss, Steve rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily. “Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “I want you so bad it hurts.” His hands slide down to your hips, squeezing possessively. “But we need to talk about boundaries and expectations. This isn't just a one-night thing for me.”

“Fine by me.” You say breathlessly. 

A slow, wicked grin spreads across Steve's face at your agreement. He captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue delving deeper as he pushes you against the counter. 

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Steve whispers against your lips, nipping at them playfully. “I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

With that, he claims your mouth again, kissing you with a fierce intensity that leaves you breathless and aching for more. His hands slip under your shirt, palming your breasts as he teases your nipples into hard peaks through the fabric of your bra. You moan softly, pressing against him as your thighs clench. You reach out to grab his biceps.

Steve grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is. “Feel what you do to me, baby?” he purrs, nibbling on your earlobe. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, you won't ever want anyone else.”

His hands slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he lifts you effortlessly. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, the heat of his erection pressing against your core. He carries you into the manager’s office, shutting the door behind him. He clears a space with one hand before setting you on the edge.

"I want to taste every inch of you," Steve murmurs huskily, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He tugs at the hem of your shirt impatiently. "Can I take this off? Please?"

You nod eagerly, lifting your arms to allow him to remove your shirt. Your chest heaves with each ragged breath as his hungry gaze roams over you. You bite your lip, watching him with wide, eager eyes.

The sight of your perfect tits encased in lacy lingerie makes Steve's mouth water. “Goddamn, baby,” he breathes reverently, reaching out to trace the swell of your cleavage with a fingertip. “You're fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Unable to resist, he dips his head, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the tops of your breasts. His tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive skin above the cups of your bra. “Let me see all of you,” he pleads, looking up at you with smoldering eyes.

His hands find the clasp of your bra behind your back, deftly unfastening it. The garment falls away, revealing your hardened nipples to his appreciative gaze. “Beautiful,” Steve whispers, cupping the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“All yours.” You say breathlessly. 

A low groan rumbles in Steve's chest at your words. Leaning in, he draws one taut nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. His other hand kneads your neglected breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He lavishes attention on first one breast, then the other, sucking and licking until you're writhing beneath him. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him to your chest as jolts of pleasure shoot straight to your pussy.

“Stevie…” you whimper, arching into his touch. “Please…”

Releasing your nipple with a wet pop, Steve looks up at you with a devilish smirk. “What do you need, baby? Tell me what you want.” His hand drifts lower, teasing along the waistband of your jeans.

You lift your hips, biting your lip.

Steve chuckles lowly, the sound sending vibrations through your heated skin. He pinches your nipple roughly. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Please eat me out!” You blurt out.

“Mmm, someone's eager,” he purrs, popping the button of your jeans and slowly dragging down the zipper. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of both your jeans and panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion. Tossing them aside, he settles between your parted thighs, his breath ghosting over your slick folds.

“You're so wet already,” Steve marvels, running a finger through your slit. He brings it to his lips, sucking your essence clean with a groan. “Fuck.”

Spreading your thighs wider, he lowers his head, flicking his tongue out to taste you directly from the source. “Oh fuck, yes,” he moans against your pussy.

You let out a sharp gasp, your back arching as his tongue delves into your pussy. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping tightly as you grind against his face.

Steve laps at your dripping pussy like a man starved, his tongue plunging deep to claim every inch of you. He suckles on your throbbing clit, the suction making your vision blur with pleasure.

Your desperate grinding against his face only spurs him on, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devours you. Moans vibrate against your sensitive flesh, adding to the intense sensations overwhelming your senses.

Suddenly, Steve withdraws, leaving you panting and bereft. He rises to his feet, his eyes blazing with lust as he quickly sheds his clothes. His thick cock springs free, already leaking precum. “Hold onto the desk,” he commands gruffly, positioning himself between your thighs. “I'm gonna fill you up so good, baby.”

He spits on his cock and grips your hips, lining up with your entrance.

You grasp the edge of the desk, bracing yourself as he pushes forward, sheathing himself inside you with a single, powerful thrust. A loud cry tears from your throat at the sudden fullness, your inner walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, you're tight!” Steve grits out, his hips jerking as he buries himself to the hilt within your slick heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the exquisite sensation of being fully enclosed by your soft pussy. “I know, I know. You’re being so good, letting me stretch you out.”

After a few seconds, he begins to move. He starts out slow, nearly pulling out completely before pushing in all the way, but the feeling of your cunt is too addicting, and he picks up speed. "Take it, pretty girl," he gasps. "This is what you needed, isn't it? To be stretched wide open on my cock?"

As if in response, your pussy clenches even tighter around him, milking him. Your voice is breathless when you speak, “Yes, yes, fuck, I need it!” 

Steve's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he pounds into you mercilessly, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the desk. 

Leaning over you, he changes the angle of penetration slightly, allowing him to drive even deeper. One hand snakes up to pinch your nipples while the other dips between your legs, finding your swollen clit.

“You like that, don't you slut?” he pants harshly in your ear. “Having your little cunt stuffed full of my cock while I play with these perfect tits?” He rolls your nipple between his fingers roughly as they continue their punishing rhythm.

“Oh god, oh fuck, yes!” You moan loudly, your body trembling. Your pussy clenches harder around his cock, your mind going blank except for the urgent need to cum.

Steve's thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release, his balls drawing up tight against his body. "Gonna fill this greedy cunt up," he rasps, his voice strained with impending climax.

With a final, brutal slam of his hips, Steve buries himself to the root inside you. His cock pulses violently as he unleashes a torrent of hot cum deep within your tight cunt. “Fuuck, baby!”

The intensity of his orgasm triggers your own, your pussy rippling around his cock as waves of ecstasy crash over you. You scream his name like a prayer, arching your back and pressing against him. 

As the afterglow sets in, Steve collapses against you, his softening cock still nestled inside you. He nuzzles into your neck, panting heavily. "That was... fucking amazing, baby." You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, going nonverbal for a second. He rubs your back gently, pushing your hair out of your eyes before kissing your forehead. “You okay?”

You nod. “Just need a second.”

He holds you closer, his cock now completely soft inside of you. He kisses your forehead again. “I was serious, you know. When I said I didn’t want this to be a one time thing.”

“So was I.”

Steve hums, cupping the back of your head. “Good.”

You sigh, nuzzling him. “Are we still going to Jason’s party?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Steve says, chuckling. “Come over to mine instead.”

You nod. “Okay.” He pulls out of you and your pussy clenches as his cum starts to dribble out. “Ah, shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, kneeling again. “I’ll clean you up, baby.”

You throw your head back as you feel his tongue on your clit again.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think! <3

[himewonu]

RED FISH, BLUE FISH ; lee seokmin

summary when vandalizing your seat by writing how you’re done with love creates more vandlism by a response the next day in blue sharpie starring dokyeom x gn! reader genre fluff, hs au, i stole this from my old blog that i stole from a pinoy movie, this has nothing to do with dr seuss contains vandalism, idk what else word count 0.6k

from rhin，again, i have no creativity to whip up a new fic so i’m stealing one from my old blog bc i can and it’s my blog. i am flwoie and flwoie is me pls dont cancel me for plagirising myself😢

you’re done with love.

this is the fourth time you’ve gone on a date with some weird guy. they keep getting worse every time. your first date couldn’t stop talking and not letting you say a word, followed by your second one, who didn’t want to pay for his food, and your third one, well, he couldn’t stop calling you insecure—when you weren’t. if your friend sets you up on another one, you might as well just go for the first one.

she shows you instagram profiles of other boys who find you interesting—from what she’s heard by others. you interrupt her and slightly push her phone away from your face.

“(name), trust me, they’re not going to be as bad as the others!” she urges.

“you said that last time. i’m done, jisun.” you clicked on the top of your pen and started jotting words down on your wooden desk.

‘I'M DONE WITH LOVE!’

you pointed out your writing on the table to jisun, making her roll her eyes.

‘wow, emo. are you heartbroken?’

those were the words that were written below yours in blue sharpie when you walked into class the next day. you pulled out a pen and wrote down your response next to theirs.

'not really. men just irritate me. speaking of which, are you a guy?’

jisun walks in and sits next to you, observing that you’re not only writing on your table but also smiling ear to ear.

“what’s got you smiling now?”

“look,” you say, tapping on the ink engraved on the table, “someone replied to my vandal.” she leans in to read your messages.

“very modern,” she sarcastically remarks. “who knows, that could be the love of your life.”

“you’re crazy. what 'love of my life’ are you talking about? we don’t even know anything about them.”

she nudges your arm after she puts her notebooks on her desk. “but, (name), admit it. you’re excited,” she teases.

seokmin eagerly walks into class as it is about to start and quickly sits down in his seat to look at your response. he grins and looks around to see if any of his classmates saw him.

he waited for everyone to leave after his class ended. his friend urges him to leave with him so they’ll do their project, but all he replies is that he’ll follow along. as his friend left, he popped off the cap of his sharpie and replied to your message.

'not all men, i’m different from them.’

you looked at the message and started writing your response as you waited for your teacher to start class.

“what if we skipped our next class? so we can see who’s answering your messages,” jisun suggests.

“no way. we’re going to be absent from our next class just because you’re curious about who’s answering.”

“nuh uh, it’s for love.”

from there, your conversations continued, with more of yours and his other friends being invested in this so-called love series.

'so you’re a guy. well, i hope you’re different from them.’

'hah! i’m a good guy :)’

'really now?’

jisun grabs your pen right after you finish writing, continuing your message with her writing.

'really now? do you have a girlfriend?’

'nope. i don’t think anyone would want to date me. what about you?’

she squeals at his response, lightly pushing you back and forth. “he’s single, (name), he’s single!” you scoff and ignore her antics.

'me neither. my friend won’t stop setting me up on dates.’

seokmin hasn’t replied to your message since. he’s afraid that this might be his last chance at love. he’s been rejected by so many girls, all for the same reason.

he just wasn’t good enough.

you thought the conversation ended there. it’s been days since you last wrote that, and the ink is starting to fade. jisun lost hope as well until the end of the week.

'maybe she can set us up together?’

“hurry up and ask for his name. i might know him!” she exclaims as you quickly write an answer.

'i’d love that. i’m (name).’

'seokmin :)’

svt masterlist .ᐟ

[pearlywritings]

Remarkable comparisons

synopsis: you just never seize to surprise him - your words make his heart flutter as you find the new ways to admire the parts of him.

prompt: 20

requested by: my dearest @lunargrapejuice

pairing: Diluc, Kaveh, Neuvillette x fem!reader

tw: fluff, established relationship, Diluc has thick eyebrows (because I love Rae's (@bobaboob) design of him), tiny mention of injury in Kaveh's

word count: 2.3k+ words in total

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

Diluc

“Congratulations, Kaeya,” you smile, saluting the Cavalry Captain with your drink. “Maybe this is a sign and you should really start dating someone.”

“One letter with a confession is all it took you to give me this piece of advice? Why, I am very honored to receive one,” the man teases, cheek supported by a hand and the fingers of the other drumming against the bar counter as he’s waiting for his own treat for tonight. “Not to mention, you getting together with Diluc in the past didn’t really solve the exactly same problem, am I correct?”

There is a grumbling sound coming from the bartender’s throat, and you snicker, knowing that the redhead is certainly rolling his eyes.

“Careful, Kaeya, or you might get your drink dumped into the sink.”

“Surely my brother wouldn’t do something like that to me,” your friend decides to pay your words no mind, turning to look at your husband instead, “right, ‘luc?”

“Oh, I actually might.”

“Ouch, you wound me.”

Diluc gives him a half-hearted glare, and you shake your head, too used to their quarrels over nothing. Tuning out their voices, you close your eyes and try to relax, enjoying your favorite beverage - always courtesy of your beloved - and humming the melody the bard is singing further into the room. The evening can be called unwinding, and if it continues to be so, it won’t be a hard task to wait Diluc’s shift to be over, to help him close the tavern and make your way home.

“Hey, hey, Y/n,” but of course Kaeya has to disturb your just established peace and quiet, and when you open your eyes again, there is already a full glass in his left hand. Looks like the tavern owner was convinced not to throw it away as he threatened to do.

“What is it, Alberich?”

“You decided to hurt me too,” he gasps painfully, clutching his chest and mimicking the face of a kicked puppy. “My favorite sister-in-law is bullying me with my last name.”

“I am your only sister-in-law. I get the privilege.”

It doesn’t escape you how Diluc snorts at your answer. Kaeya only grimaces.

“We’ll come back to it later. Now I am more curious, how did you handle all those love letters my brother received? I don’t believe you’ve ever told me.”

“I probably didn’t,” you agree, putting your empty glass down, only for it to end up in the redhead’s hands a minute later. “But that was fun.”

“...fun?”

“Yeah, fun. Ever since Diluc started courting me and I returned his affections, he’d come to me with every letter - sometimes with a whole pile of them - and we would sit down and read them together.”

The star-shaped pupil darts to the unfazed man and meets with the gaze of crimson eyes - it is as if he knew that his brother would question his reaction.

“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea,” he states while pouring you another drink. “Just throwing or burning the letters without any prior explanation could leave some trace behind and cause misunderstanding, so I decided to tell her of the very first one I got when in a relationship with her. She found it so entertaining that ever since she demanded to read every single one of those.”

“You can call it my own research on the creativity of his suitors’ compliments,” you grin, thanking your lover for the new drink, leaning up to plant a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve counted around 120 comparisons of his eyes or hair to anything related to fire, a little bit more than 60 saying of his wisdom and owlishness, something like 46 cases of titling him a ‘prince’... But there were original ones too - ‘locks like waterfall of Fontaine’, ‘the dark master of my dreams’, ‘the perfect father for my children’”, Kaeya chokes, while you simply shrug your shoulders. “Yeah… I have a whole list somewhere actually. I can show you later, just remind me the next time you visit the winery.”

“You are the menace, my dear. Diluc, I can’t believe that after all those…fluttering words you were blushing over that compliment your now wife gave you about your eyebrows!”

“I mean,” Diluc clears his throat, furrowing the aforementioned brows, “They’ve just grown back after that accident with my vision…”

“And I jumped on him, kissing all over those beautiful thick bushy lines atop his mesmerizing eyes. I really missed them,” you sigh dreamily and the Cavalry Captain isn’t sure if you are serious or exasperated.

“It… it was the first time I'd heard them described that way. Or mentioned at all,” Almost unconsciously your husband reaches to move the fluffy fringe to the side. You can’t help but raise your hand and smooth the thumb over his eyebrow. Archons, your man is handsome.

“It was the first time I used such words too. I tried to be romantic. And creative. Creatively romantic.”

“I guess it worked…” Kaeya mumbles averting his eyes from the display unfurling before him. Maybe staying single wasn’t so bad.

Kaveh

“My love, you should be more careful with them, you know?” Softly caressing the bandaged knuckles with your thumb, you scoot even closer to your sulking husband. Your shoulder is immediately occupied with his golden-copper head, cheek flush to your bare skin and you can only assume that he is staring at the lock of your hands.

“Of course I know,” he sighs, turning his palm up and gently grabbing your fingers to draw the back of your hand to his lips. “My hands are basically the source of my income. But accidents happen at the construction site. It’s just that this time I am the one who ended up hurt. Thank the Dendro Archon no one else was affected.”

You want to scold him for being so dismissive of his own health, you want to scold him for not treating the injury well enough right away and jumping back into work again, you want to scold him for diminishing the role of his hands - his own role - to a simple instrument of making mora.

But you almost instantly push those thoughts away - after all, Kaveh knows all these things very well, and you are not about to ruin his mood even more.

“I hope they’ll heal soon,” you offer instead, turning your head and kissing the top of his. “Your hands are very important!”

“They are?” The blonde finally looks at you and there is an unmasked interest in them. “You mean, more than for drawing blueprints?”

“So much more! No other hand can hold mine. No other fingers can push a strand off of my face when the wind is too playful. No other palm is as perfect as yours to plant kisses upon. No wrists can compare to the work of art that yours are - also perfect for kisses.”

“I don’t know, birdie,” you are so beautiful in your pretense of playful hesitation, gleaming eyes averted and lips pursed. “What if this emotion doesn’t suit me so well?”

“But my muse,” the corners of his lips tug in a smile, akin to a shy morning sun, “all these things and so much more I can still do even with my hands bandaged.”

“I know, Kaveh, I know. But, there is something else, and, quite honestly, I might get shy if I say that outloud.”

“Oh?” Yes, that Kaveh-like lilt is back in his enchanting voice, and now he is sitting with a straighter back, half-turning to face you, but keeping your hands together on your knee. “Now I really want to know.” 

“Come on, tell me~” And he is pushing his forehead against yours, gently butting, eyes full of determination staring in yours. “I wanna know what else my sweet loving wife thinks of my hands~ Or I might just attack you with kisses!”

“Wait, I joked-” and you erupt in giggles, when the architect surges forward to shower your smiling face with pecks big and small.

“...and what if I want it?”

“Then you shall receive.”

“Alright, alright! I surrender! I see your hands as the creators of our future home!”

The attacks abruptly stop. The pretty pink padparadscha eyes blink a few times, mind processing the words of your sacred confession. And while he is at it, you decide to elaborate.

“I adore the place we are currently renting. But I hope that one day we’ll build our own house - based off your blueprints, based off your vision of our home, cozy and full of light. So,” you reach your free hand to take his second one to lovingly hold them in your grasp, “for me your hands are also the creators of our future home, if you ever wish to share my idea.”

“I… Wow, Y/n, you caught me off guard,” the gaze full of wonder falls to his hands, currently wrapped in white bandages and looking imperfect in his own eyes. “It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way.”

“It's the first time I used such words too, my dear husband.”

You want to protest when his palms slide out of yours, but as they cup your cheeks and draw your lips to his - you eagerly close the distance, putting your hands on top of his.

Something tells you that Kaveh very much shares your idea.

Neuvillette

Your lover’s shrewdness has always been a well-known fact, an unprovable wrong at that. But even he at times could get stuck on a tangled case, especially in a moment of lacking some crucial details - though the public is never aware of it, because when the Iudex of Fontaine takes his rightful place in the courtroom there is no doubt that he knows more than enough to start the trial.

Only you and the melusines have ever witnessed him in a state of stalling as he is analyzing the information he has again and again until the missing piece is discovered. Today is exactly one of these days. No trials are scheduled for the day, so Neuvillette can dedicate his full attention to looking over the cases he will be taking care of tomorrow. Admittedly he never feels annoyed or discouraged when his thoughts reach a deadend, but having you in the same room always brings him comfort even though it was unnecessary in the first place.

You came earlier in the afternoon and brought him lunch, knowing that he’d barricade himself in the office till the late hours of the evening, and decided to stay, promising to handle any issue his subordinates could end up visiting his office with. The man has his full trust in you and your abilities to take care of the administrative part of his job - you’ve spent many decades by his side and involved in his field of work and possessed much empathy towards humans.

Same empathy you hold for him. It’s clear to you, as his beloved, his mate, that your partner needs a break. It’s been some hours since lunch and the desk in front of him has been getting crammed with more and more thick folios. If Neuvillette was a mek, there would be gears turning into his head intensively.

Oh!

Suddenly an idea pops into your head.

Putting away the reports Sedene delivered half an hour ago, you quietly rise from your spot on the plush sofa. The carpet muffles your steps as you move closer to the desk and round it, stopping right by the chair, putting your hand on its back. Your lover doesn’t even lift his head, too used to your presence, never questioning your actions. You admire the parts of him that are in your sight - his long, silky hair, thrown over the left armrest - a habit he developed, too tired to sit onto his own locks; then there is some of the skin of his neck is opened, transforming into the sharp jawline which you suddenly have desire to kiss; the broad shoulders that look even wider because of his coat and you put your free hand on his elbow, bending down.

And then there is his ear - pointy and delicate, it becomes the center of your plan.

Neuvillette’s whole frame shudders when you hum against the shell of it and then press the side of your head to his. It takes a moment to realize that it’s your ears that are touching and you lean into him even further, finally breaking his focus, eliciting a confused sigh out of him.

“Beloved? What’s wrong?”

“Mmm, absolutely nothing, darling,” you hum again, yet do not move anywhere from your spot. “It’s just your thoughts were running so fast in your head that I thought I was hearing the crashing of the waves.��

“...pardon me?” Now the confusion is in his voice too and you draw your face away to look at him with a glint of amusement in your visage.

“Well, you know, they say ‘a shell of an ear’. And if you press your ear to a seashell you’ll hear the sounds of a distant ocean. Come to think of it,” your finger touches the pointy edge and travels the length of it, sending another shiver - this time a pleasant one - down the man’s spine, “your ears look like the prettiest shells.”

When your digit stops its ministration it’s his own gloved hand that reaches up to touch the place you’ve just been tracing.

“It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way,” his voice is soft, inhuman eyes closing as a tender smile graces his lips.

“Well… It's the first time I used such words too, my love. I am glad the comparison is to your taste.”

“It is indeed,” the chair is pushed away and in a moment your lover is standing, fondly looking at you and offering his hand. “How do you feel about a walk at the shore?”

“Wow, if complimenting you will always result in taking a break from work I should start making more of those,” you can’t help but tease, eagerly taking his hand though. “I feel positively about it. Let’s go.”

[e-dubbc11]

Okay here is my ask...can you do one where Rumlow becomes a dad? Like from him finding out to baby looking at him for the first time? I'm curious how he would handle FMC having morning sickness, and all the craziness during pregnancy, and especially how he would handle her giving birth (maybe she wants to do it naturally). Thanks new friend!!

I don’t know why I had never written Rumlow as a dad before but I guess I was just waiting for the right ask and I’m SO happy you did because this was a lot of fun to write and I really hope you like it, my lovely friend♥️😘

An Unexpected Surprise

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy sex (18+ please or else I’m telling on you), swear words, angst, fluffy bunnies and unicorns

Word Count: 5K-ish

Summary: You and your fiancé are met with, well, an unexpected surprise. Navigating pregnancy was going to be tough but it might actually be tougher for Brock

A/N: It was a while ago but I tried to draw from my own experience of being pregnant for this and bouncing ideas off of my new friend was so fun and she actually gave me an idea for another Rumlow fic which I can’t wait to start. Thank you again!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. You were careful, painstakingly careful.

You always thought of yourself as being prepared for anything and everything which is why this was a complete surprise.

But there it was, right in front of your eyes and clear as day.

Two defined dark blue lines explained why you had been feeling nauseous, why you suddenly had an aversion to chicken, and why your period was late…very, very late.

You were pregnant.

Gazing down at your engagement ring, you were also nervous about what your love was going to say about it. Brock wasn’t exactly the sweet, teddy bear type. Well, he was that way with you but he was also the type to react poorly to a situation and then apologize later for it.

How were you going to tell him? Neither of you was entirely sold on the idea of having kids, but especially having kids right away. His work at SHIELD was important to him and it wasn’t exactly danger free. Brock’s work took him on missions all over the world, it sometimes put him in threatening situations and you never wanted to tell him that he had to give all that up. Not coming home to you would be one thing; it would be difficult to get through but you knew what you signed up for when you said yes but having to tell a child that their daddy isn’t coming home is different and would be even harder.

What were you going to do?

**********

After confirming your pregnancy at the doctor’s office, you finally worked up the courage to tell Brock that he was going to be a father. You created scenarios in your head, tried to figure out how you were going to talk to him if he got angry, upset, or even just completely shut himself off because he was in shock.

He wanted to go out to dinner. Brock felt guilty for spending so much time away from home lately so he wanted to try and make it up to you and after dodging questions like “What? You don’t want anything to drink?” and “I thought you loved the way they make the lemon chicken here?” It was time to tell him.

But when you arrived home, Brock had other ideas. The two of you barely walked through the door before he pulled the sweater over your head, while you reached for the button on his jeans, and devouring each other like you haven’t seen each other in months.

Tangled in each other’s limbs, his lips gently pressed against the soft skin of your shoulder as his calloused hands traveled up your thigh and came to rest on your hip. Your fingers tangled in his wild dark hair while the stubble on his chin delicately scratched your cheek and he purred in your ear.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been workin’ so much lately, doll. Forgive me?” He asked. The sexy rasp in his voice gently vibrated in your ear.

“Well when you ask so nicely, how could I not?” You said with a sly smile. “You’re so soft for me, Rumlow.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to broadcast it. No one needs to know that.” He answered back.

You could feel heat rush across your chest and you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside your ears, knowing that what you were about to say was going to change your relationship with Brock either for the better or not so much.

“I’m pregnant, Brock.” You blurted out.

“That’s not funny, sweetheart.” Replied Brock.

Biting down on your lower lip, your hands started to shake.

“I’m not joking, baby. I’ve been feeling nauseous, I missed my period, so I finally took a test and had it confirmed at the doctor’s a couple of days ago. I’m pregnant.” You said nervously.

All of the color drained from Brock’s face as he sat speechless, staring at you with his whiskey colored eyes, and working out in his head what you had just told him.

“Say something please, Brock. I know we didn’t exactly plan for this–” You had started to say before he interrupted you.

“Plan for this? We didn’t plan for this at all, doll! I thought you were on birth control?!” He asked.

“Well obviously it’s not always a sure thing, Brock! Maybe I missed a couple!” You said, visibly upset.

Quickly, he got out of bed, put his clothes on and looked at you one more time before heading for the door.

His motorcycle roared to life and you heard him drive down the street before the sounds faded and you were left alone, wondering when or if he was coming back.

**********

The next morning, as you sat at the kitchen island, sipping your coffee, you heard the bike pull into the driveway. The blood in your veins began to boil and you could feel your cheeks burning with anger. Your jaw tightened while waiting for Brock to come inside; you couldn’t wait to give him hell for just getting up and leaving like he did.

You heard his keys unlock the door and as you turned to face the door, you folded your arms protectively across your chest. Slowly, the doorknob turned and he stepped inside with a very pathetic look on his face like a puppy that just chewed your favorite shoes.

“Where the hell have you been?!! I haven’t had time to be worried about you because I’ve been busy being pissed off and that’s putting it nicely, Brock!!” You shouted.

“I’m sorry, doll. I shouldn’t have—“ Brock started to say before you cut him off.

“Shouldn’t have what? Left me in the middle of the night? For making me feel like a piece of trash because you left right after you fucked me? I’m going to be your wife, Rumlow! You can’t just leave like that!” You continued.

“I know! And I’m sorry, sweetheart! I don’t know what the etiquette is for when the woman you love unexpectedly tells you that she’s pregnant.” He replied.

You retorted with, “Is it ever fully expected, Brock? You think I wasn’t floored when I saw the results of that pregnancy test, telling me that I’m gonna be a mom? I felt alone and scared! And even more so when you left without a word after I FINALLY worked up the courage to tell you. Where did you even go, anyway?”

Brock tossed his keys on the counter, walked over to the cabinet to get a cup and poured himself some coffee.

“I drove around for awhile, ended up on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and found myself just staring out at the reflecting pool. I know I shouldn’t have left like that but you know I react first and think later. It’s not my best trait and I’m so sorry.” Said Brock, sheepishly.

He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a small stuffed bunny that he probably bought at the drugstore. Brock handed it to you. It felt so soft as you let the fabric glide through your fingers and your lips curled into a slight smile.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you walked over to him and snaked your arms around his neck. Brock set his cup down on the counter so he could pull your body flush to his and he locked his hands around your waist. The gaze of his amber colored eyes locked onto yours before he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Brock let out a gentle exhale that warmed your chilled skin and he softly pressed his lips to your collarbone before saying again, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you too, Brock.” You replied. “You still gonna love me, when you can’t reach me because my belly is in the way?”

“Of course, doll.” He said.

You chuckled a little.

“That is the correct answer, Mr Rumlow.” You said.

His expression softened and became a little more serious before saying, “Well, there is something we need to change right away.”

Confused, you replied, “What’s that, baby?”

“We need to change your last name.” Said Brock.

The corners of your mouth curled into a wide smile as your lips collided with his. You were engaged but had dragged your feet at setting a wedding date yet so even though this isn’t exactly the way you wanted it to happen, you were very happy about it.

“What did you have in mind, handsome?” You asked.

A sly smile stretched across Brock’s lips as he replied, “I have an idea.”

**********

Brock wasn’t exactly a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants type of guy so when he proposed the two of you elope, you were very surprised but happy at the same time. It would be one less thing to worry about before the baby comes.

After a wedding and short honeymoon in the Bahamas, it was time to prepare for Baby Rumlow’s arrival which wasn’t easy but it was especially tough for Brock.

Between the doctor’s appointments, work, trying to find time to work on the nursery, and fluctuating hormones, the two of you were exhausted.

Brock had been burning the candle at both ends, going on more missions in the early parts of your pregnancy so he could be home more for the later months in case you needed anything.

But now you have reached that stage in your pregnancy where you were horny all…the…time.

“You sure you’re ok, doll?” He asked.

“I’m not gonna break, Rumlow.” You said with a smirk.

Your little belly separated the two of you as you straddled him on the couch. He was surprised you practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Between the morning sickness and the exhaustion, there wasn’t a lot of intimacy in those first three months but that fourth month hit and you were ready to make up for lost time.

After you removed his black t-shirt, your kisses were aggressive, all tongue and teeth, as you gently tugged on his wild dark brown hair and his fingers gently danced up and down your spine. You reached for the button on his jeans as his thick fingers traveled up your thigh, underneath your skirt and touched the wet spot on your panties. Brock kicked off his pants and helped you slip out of your long skirt as you firmly planted your knees on either side of his hips once again.

“You don’t wanna go to the bedroom, sweetheart?” He asked.

The raspy tone to his voice has always been such a turn on for you. The purr in your ear made you extremely wet and there was no way you were going to pause this to go to the bedroom. You wanted him now and let him know it by stroking him, feeling him get harder by the second, while he let out a strangled moan and you shook your head “no.”

Brock pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger before insistently pressing his lips to yours. His days-old stubble gently scratched against your chin as he parted your lips with his tongue and his fingers dipped below the line of your panties but not before he lightly cradled your little bump. A quiet whimper fell from your lips as he parted your folds with one finger, teasing you, circling your clit, and hitting that special spot.

“You’re dripping down my hand, baby. You need this too, don’t you.” He growled.

He curled his talented fingers inside, making you lightheaded as your walls began to tighten around him. Brock’s other hand fit around your neck like a choker as your eyes fluttered closed; he knew you were close as you mewled his name.

“You’re too quiet, doll. Come for me, y/n, let me hear you, then I’ll give you what you really want.” He said in a grating whisper.

His words went straight to your core and your release hit you hard and fast, calling out his name loudly and causing your voice to break. Leaning down, you grazed your teeth along his jawline as his lips curled into a sly grin.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He praised you.

Still coming down from your high, Brock managed to remove his boxer briefs and your panties before lining himself up and sliding into you with ease, smiling as he heard your breath hitch and captured your lips again in a forceful kiss; he let out a low growl as you started to roll your hips and pulling him in close so you could move in tandem. With quick snaps of his hips underneath you, your second orgasm started to stir and your thighs stiffened with every shallow thrust causing you to clench around him.

You were so close to just falling apart, strangled moans and other sinful noises continued to fall from your lips which made him work harder to push you over the edge and chase his own release.

“Brock!” You cried out.

With his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he spilled into you as you crumpled on top of him, your chests heaving, trying to catch your breath. Brock started to kiss the sculpted hollow of your throat when he felt the tiniest of flutters in your belly, pressed against his.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is that?” He asked in a shocked tone.

“She’s kicking, Brock.” You said then quickly clamped your hands over your mouth.

At your last ultrasound, the tech asked if you wanted to know the baby’s sex and you both decided you wanted to be surprised, well, actually YOU decided. Brock wanted to know because then he could have a little more control and know what to expect but he was overruled. So instead, they put the sex of the baby in an envelope in case you changed your mind.

“SHE?! You little sneak! You looked at the ultrasound anyway after you gave me shit for wanting to know what we were having!” Said Brock with a wide smile.

Biting down on your lower lip, you tried to stop yourself from smiling but you failed miserably.

“Ok, I know I said I wanted to be surprised but I lied. Or rather, I changed my mind.” You replied. “You mad?”

Brock gently placed his hand against your growing belly as the flutters continued. His smile was genuine and he really looked happy.

“Nah, I ain’t mad, sweetheart.” He said with a wink.

His stubble tickled your lips as you kissed him on the cheek and said, “Oh yay, now we can pick out all things pink!”

He quickly replied with a hard eye roll and said, “Can we go easy on the pink please, y/n?”

“How ‘bout pink and black?” You asked.

Brock held his hand out in between the two of you and said, “Deal.”

**********

Baby girl Rumlow was getting bigger by the day and so was your stomach. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to sit up after sleeping, to see your feet, and even just to get comfortable.

“So when do you stop going to work?” Brock asked one evening after your shower.

You narrowed your eyes at him and replied in a confused tone, “What do you mean, baby?”

“I mean, you’re gettin’ pretty big, doll. You gotta be thinkin’ about stopping working until after the baby, right?” He replied.

Oh, he’s so lucky he’s handsome.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘BIG?’” You asked through clenched teeth.

He interrupted you, “Ok now, I didn’t mean it that way, sweetheart. You know that. I was only thinkin’ of YOU. I know how tough it’s been lately for you to get comfortable, to walk around, shit like that.”

Without warning, tears welled up in your eyes and before you could try and stop yourself, they were streaming down your face. It had been happening more as it was getting closer to your due date and everything was hitting you all at once. You were tired, hormonal, and absolutely terrified of being a mom but everyone told you it was all normal, although it didn’t make it any easier to try and control.

“Aside from moments like these—“ You started to say, pointing to the tears in your eyes, “I feel fine, Brock. The doctor said that as long as I don’t have any issues or the baby isn’t in distress, I’m fine to work until I’m due.”

“Well, what if I don’t want you workin’?” Said Brock.

“Baby, I’m not on my feet all the time unless I want or need to be. I’m fine.” You said, pouring your tea.

You baby girl started to move around. She was very active in the evening hours and loved to stretch out, jabbing you in the side with her feet and hands. It wasn’t just a quick kick to the ribs and she was done…NOPE! Her stretches caused you to wince and you tried to move her feet to a different spot that wasn’t so painful.

“Oof…” You said, pressing on your belly.

Brock reached out to gently touch your stomach.

“What? What is it? Is it time?!” He asked nervously.

You smiled and chuckled a little at Brock’s concern for you. It was really sweet.

Shaking your head, you replied, “No, no, baby. I’m fine—here…” You said, grabbing his hand and placing it on the side of your bump. “You feel that? She’s stretching. That’s her heel you’re feeling.”

Brock Rumlow was a man of few words and he had even less to say while he was feeling his baby move around. His lips curled into a wide smile as his strong hands followed her hands and feet around your bump.

“That’s…wow. That’s really somethin’, doll.”

You were getting close to your due date and felt enormous but everything was in order, the nursery was done, and you couldn’t wait to meet her. Now all you had to do was settle on a name which was a process because every name you liked, Brock would veto and every name he suggested, you didn’t like.

“She still needs a name, baby.” You said.

Brock inched closer, until you were sharing the same air and you could see his facial features up close. The laugh lines around his whiskey colored eyes were prominent but they made him so ruggedly handsome and hard to resist when he was this close to you.

He bypassed your lips and leaned down to kiss the sweet spot on your neck that you loved so much, the gentle scratches of his beard tickled your throat and neck as he peppered kisses up and down the side of your neck which made you giggle.

He replied, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out. We still have time.”

**********

Although, the time you did have left wasn’t much and it went by very quickly.

You had started sleeping on top of a large beach towel in case your water broke while you were sleeping and you woke up one night a couple of days before your due date to a decent amount of pain shooting across your stomach and an empty spot next to you in bed where Brock was supposed to be.

Shit.

Picking up your phone off of the nightstand, you quickly checked to see if you had any messages from Brock which you did. He said he had a quick job locally he had to do, just to the airport and back to SHIELD, then he would be home.

The contractions were unlike anything you’ve experienced before so more than likely you were in labor…and Brock wasn’t there.

In his texts, Brock said it wouldn’t take long but how long could you wait? He didn’t answer when you called and you tried him a few times so you decided to text him.

I think she’s coming, baby. I’ll meet you at the hospital. If you miss this, don’t plan on coming home…I’m sorry, I love you but I’m hormonal and scared to death.

On your way out the door, you picked up your bag that you remember packing a few months ago, the little outfits you picked out for her to wear home and everything you needed for your time in the hospital.

It was 2:30 in the morning and the city was quiet. You stared out of the car window as your Uber driver raced to the hospital, there wasn’t a lot going on besides the bright lights above the sidewalk, a few people walking beneath them, and you wondered where your husband was. Hopefully he was alright.

Before arriving at the hospital, you had called your doctor to tell him you were in labor or at least you thought you were and you tried Brock one more time before checking in…still no answer.

The contractions were painful and as you lay in bed, hooked up to all the machines, you wondered where Brock was and why did your daughter have to pick tonight when her father wasn’t home to start her journey into this world.

The noises inside and outside of your hospital room were tuned out by your brain and your thoughts. You probably checked your phone every 15 seconds to see if Brock had at least texted but he hadn’t. He still had time though because you were only a few centimeters dilated.

You had been resting for a little while, dealing with the contractions as they came when the doctor came in to check to see how your labor was progressing.

“How are my patients doing?” Asked Dr. Kalla as he walked through the door.

Before the door closed all the way, you thought you heard some commotion, yelling, and something hitting the floor but you didn’t think anything of it.

“Fine, Dr. Kalla. They seem like they’re getting closer.” You replied, just as he started to check how far along you were.

Dignity was out the window when it came to labor and delivery so it only made sense that Brock practically broke down the door while you were being checked by your doctor.

He took one look at the doctor and then yelled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, guy?!!!”

Brock was ready to knock the doctor to the floor when you yelled at him, “BROCK, STOP!! Dr. Kalla was just checking my labor progression! What is the matter with you?!!”

Dr. Kalla was finishing his check when Brock’s friend, Jack Rollins, stuck his head in the room to say, “Rumlow…I’m gonna go park the truck.” He paused, looked at the doctor, then looked at you and continued, “Whoa…heyoooooo!”

“I’m gonna kill you!” Yelled Brock and started to chase Jack out of the room.

Ripping the cool wash cloth off of your forehead, you yelled at Brock, “I’m gonna kill YOU, Rumlow! I’m so sorry, Doctor. He’s a big dumb animal.”

The doctor replied, “It wouldn’t have been the first time a husband has knocked me out. You’re progressing quickly. You can still have the epidural if you want to but I know you said you wanted to do this naturally. Is that still your plan?”

A contraction was hitting right at that moment.

You took a minute to breathe through it before answering, “Yes, that’s still my plan but thank you and again, I am so sorry about him.”

“I’ll be back in a little bit to check you again.” The doctor said.

“Hey doc, I’m really sorry.” Said Brock.

“It’s your first baby, I’ll give you a pass. Enjoy these last moments as a family of two.” He said with a kind smile and closed the door behind him.

Your smile quickly disappeared as the door closed and through gnashed teeth, you said, “I cannot believe you, Rumlow! He’s a DOCTOR!!”

“Well, what was I supposed to think, I rush in here and another man has his fingers inside of you!” He growled back.

Fighting the pain of a contraction, you replied, “Again, he’s a doctor!! You didn’t recognize him?!! He’s been my doctor for a handful of appointments!”

“Alright, alright, doll. I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry I was out on a job, I’m sorry I almost knocked the doctor’s teeth out, I’m just…sorry.” Said Brock, kissing your forehead.

It really was hard to stay mad at him so you just decided to switch gears and move on.

“It’s ok, Brock. She’ll be here soon, ya know.” You said. “Ow, ow, ow!”

“Seems like she wants out now.” Brock said with a wide smile.

“Are we ready for this?” You asked with a hitch in your voice.

He moved a stray hair away from your eyes and replied, “Ready as we’ll ever be, doll. She’s comin’ whether we’re ready or not.”

**********

The next time the doctor checked, he broke your water, said you were close and it will almost be time to push. Breathing through your contractions with quick inhales and exhales, your eyes fluttered closed at the really bad ones and Brock was there to hold your hand through all of them.

Expecting the doctor, the door opened but it was Jack that walked in.

“I’m here to check the patient.” He joked, holding two fingers in the air.

“Get outta my room, Jack!” You shouted at him through a rather painful contraction.

A devilish grin stretched across Jack’s lips as he replied, “I’m kidding, y/n! I’m kidding! I just wanted to see how you were doin’ and if you needed anything.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Jack Rollins?” You asked.

Jack replied, “I’m just gonna say, I’ll be right outside if you’re ready to have another one put in you when this one is out.”

Jack ran for the door as Brock chased him.

“Get outta my wife’s room and you don’t get to come back until the baby is out!” Shouted Brock.

After Jack slipped out of the room, the doctor came back.

“You ready to push y/n? It’s time to meet your baby.” Said Dr. Kalla.

You nodded as Brock kissed the top of your head and helped you get into position.

It was chaotic in your room, to say the least. Doctors and nurses everywhere, Brock holding your leg, telling you to push, and you focusing on desperately wanting to meet your baby daughter.

And after a handful of pushes, some very strong curse words, and encouragement from everyone around you, your little girl finally graced everyone with her presence and she was very vocal about it.

The picture of perfection, little Natalie Elizabeth Rumlow was finally here and she was so worth the wait.

All you wanted to do was stare at her, the perfect tiny combination of you and Brock fit in the crook of your arms like she was always meant to be there. And your husband couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s obvious I’ve never really held a baby before, isn’t it?” He asked.

You returned a smile and replied, “Eh, maybe a little…but not too bad.”

The door opened slowly and Jack peeked in, holding a stuffed unicorn, “Is it safe? Has the screaming stopped? I’d like to meet her.”

“It’s safe…come on in, Uncle Jack.” You said.

Jack was actually a natural when it came to holding babies.

“If you tell anyone I’m soft when it comes to babies, I’ll fuckin’ kill you, Rumlow!” Said Jack.

That made you both laugh.

Natalie’s first visitor was her Uncle Jack but many more visitors of family and friends followed after him, of course she slept through most of it like newborns do, only waking up to be fed and changed.

And after they all had gone home, it was just the three of you finally alone and you were exhausted.

“You think I’ll be good at this Dad thing, sweetheart?” Asked Brock, watching Natalie sleep.

“I do, baby. But just remember that nobody’s perfect. We’ll both make mistakes, I’m sure.” You replied.

“You’ll have to help me.” He said.

You gently touched Natalie’s head, her wild dark hair reminded you a lot of her dad’s.

“We’ll help each other, baby.” You said with a warm smile.

Brock inched closer to you and planted a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” Whispered Brock.

You whispered back, “I love you too.”

**********

Three Months Later

“Why?!! She’s just a tiny baby! Why?!” Asked Brock, flustered and pacing back and forth in the exam room.

“It’s just that time, baby. It’s not like she’s gonna remember.” You said. “I told you that you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to.”

It was time for Natalie’s first shots and it probably was a mistake to bring Brock with you but you thought maybe he could comfort you too. It wasn’t easy watching those needles pierce her skin and seeing her cry but you handled it better than Brock did.

In the car, on the way home, you took a phone call from the doctor’s office.

“Yes, I completely understand. Thank you.” You said and hung up.

Brock asked, “What did they say?”

“Yeah, they said you’re not allowed to come with me anymore!” You yelled.

“So I got a little upset, what’s the big deal?!” He asked with a shrug.

You playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“You made those nurses cry, Brock! THAT’S the big deal!” You said.

“Serves them right for hurting my little girl.” He said. “So I’m really not allowed back?”

“Not unless those nurses recover from their PTSD!” You hissed.

A sly smile appeared on Brock’s face as he said with a chuckle, “Totally worth it. It’s a story I’ll be able to tell her when she’s older.”

Biting back a smile, you couldn’t do anything but shake your head at him. You reached out and brushed his cheek with your knuckles. Brock turned his head quickly to kiss your hand, Natalie was babbling to herself in her carseat, and you were endlessly in love with both of them.

She really was the best unexpected surprise you didn’t know you wanted but now couldn’t picture living without.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan @staley83 @bartonsparrow25

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[reds-skull]

Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (completed)

Been a while since I've made one of these! Decided it's time to get into the biggest category I have...

These don't have any shared theme beside having multiple chapters and being completed, and they're both NSFW and SFW.

As always, make sure to look at the CWs and tags before reading, and if a link doesn't work, you're welcome to reach out!

[Some of these might be by authors I already recommended, you can find that list here]

Shotgun Sunsets, Desert Stars by noxmajor - Soap keeps disappearing. Ghost gets curious.

Chasing Ghosts and Dreams by TheEdwardianOne - Soap and Ghost finally do something about their feelings in a safehouse after a mission.

Give Me Hope & Let Me Down by MechanicalBones - Soap saves his idiot Lieutenant & there's a shit tonne of hurt-comfort & smooches.

Love Is Not An Act, It's A Habit by wodnica - Ghost and Soap got separated from their team, lost and alone. Ghost must reconsider how close his relationship with Soap really is.

The Devil You Know by Artaccountant1 - In order for life in the 141 to go on, Ghost had to die. He knew Soap wouldn't take it well, but he never expected him to end up like this. That mask was only supposed to be for special occasions.

It's cracked and it's scarred (but I would give you my heart) by FetteEule - After a mission gone wrong Ghost and Soap find themselves cut off from their team and have to work together to figure out what happened, all while navigating their growing feelings for each other.

when does a man become a monster by wellyesbutactuallyno - One of Makarov's men takes Ghost. Soap gets him back.

Pieces of You by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap slowly collects pieces of Ghost through his clothes or his weapons. Eventually, Simon gets something of Johnny's.

a Moth to a Flame by theidjits - Firefighter John MacTavish was eager to start his career. What he didn't expect when he was assigned to Station 141 was to fall for the elusive Lieutenant. (firefighters 141)

Trace Them Gently by Grangers_apprentice - There are a lot of reasons Ghost wears so many layers. Layers keep you warm. They keep you safe. They keep prying eyes and wandering hands away. Ghost has more reasons than most to want to keep his skin under wraps. [Restricted]

A Steady Beat in an Unsteady Time by Grangers_apprentice - Soap has been having dreams where Ghost dies, and comes up with an unconventional way of reassuring himself that his lieutenant is fine. (part 1 of the Heartbeat Series) [Restricted]

Blossoms by felicitous - Against his better judgement, John "Soap" MacTavish was in love with Simon "Ghost" Riley. And while he knew that Ghost could never, would never, love him back, he was happy to take whatever attention the man would give him, even if it killed him. (Hanahaki AU)

Remember Me (Please) by Darkflamej - Johnny winds up with amnesia and Ghost is struggling to keep them both alive while trying to balance the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with a man who doesn’t even remember him.

The Truth Comes Out by Darkflamej - Ghost is under the influence of a truth serum and is trying his best to not confess his love for Soap.

Mission: You by TheD - Soap keeps getting distracted recently by Ghost. They do something about it, leading to an entanglement that leads to complications in their relationship.

the human condition by bilbhoebangins - Ghost shows up to an anonymous hookup and finds a naked and blindfolded Johnny waiting for him. His sergeant is completely unaware of just who he's arranged to meet, and Ghost has to make a choice, between what's right, and what he so desperately wants.

Awake At Night by CYBERGUTS - A friends to lovers fic over 4 seasons.

Prank Call by Team_141_property - A prank call goes wrong, personal walls are ripped down, people get hurt, and feelings get confessed. [read the CW on this one especially]

Yes to Heaven by Apollos_Last_Prophet - Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is declared K.I.A during a failed recon mission in 2017. His commanding officer, Captain John Price, takes the loss personally, but has no other choice then to move on. Five years later, Price fights an assassin with a familiar face. [the one and only]

Someday The Dust Will Settle by shadow_in_the_window - Panic was starting to flood Ghost's senses. Johnny had lost a lot of blood. He cleared his mind. There was no way he'd let Johnny die on his watch. Not now. Not ever.

A Sunrise In the Dark by [orphan_account] - “Don’t say that, Johnny.” Ghost spoke, his voice quiet. “Say what?” “That you’d take a bullet.” “I would, though.”

On Begged and Borrowed Time by goforblood - Soap MacTavish is the newest member of Task Force 141. Soap could not have foreseen the enigmatic lieutenant, Ghost, who threatens to turn everything on its head. Can he keep his burgeoning crush on the masked man a secret? Or will someone call his bluff?

Midnight Snacks by MireyaRowan - Ghost is forced to share a room with Soap for a few nights, greatly increasing his anxiety about his night terrors. He hasn't let anyone in the task force know how hard being idle is for him. Soaps makes a whole deal out of it to try and keep Ghost distracted from his past.

I Woke Up Underground by WispScribbles - Soap, Ghost, Price and Gaz are on a mission to take out Hassan's allies. It goes south when explosives cause the cave system to collapse, injuring and trapping the team.

A Little Death by CaptainMJ - Ghost dragged himself out of Vernon's grave to see that Roba hadn't left. Had waited to see if he'd manage to do it. Ghost never escaped and eventually they were successful in breaking him down and making him someone else. Kinda. Kinda successful.

Spoils of War by CaptainMJ - Ghost defeats Soap's kingdom and after splitting up the spoils, he takes Soap too. Soap expects the worst, but Ghost doesn't seem keen on doing anything to him. How long is that going to last?

Target Locked by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: In a world where having a soulmark is a rare and forgotten phenomenon, finding your other half can be more a curse than a blessing. Soap joined the military intent on escaping the stigma of the mark, adamant he'd never find his soulmate.

Fucking new guy by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Soap joins Task Force 141, ready to prove himself as the best of the best. On his first day, he finds himself choked in the training room by a prick in a skull mask. Now Soap must deal with his growing attraction to his lieutenant, a sarcastic and cold-hearted man named Ghost, while at the same time proving to the 141 he's worthy of being there.

ripe and ruin by ghcst - It's August 1917, the rain doesn't seem like it will ever cease, and Soap starts to wonder if this war will ever end. He also has trouble trying to decide whether or not Lieutenant Simon Riley is really human. [WW1 AU, I recommend it even if you don't like the time period!]

Got your back, you got mine by WhiteBeakedRaven - five times Ghost did Soap a favor and the one time Soap had paid him back.

He Stuck Around For The Moon by escence - He’d been avoiding Ghost, planning on continuing to do so until he could sort out his thoughts and feelings regarding the man, preferably, shifting them into something less intimate. Evidently, he’d run out of time and Ghost had found a way to pin him down, literally and metaphorically.

The fever dream by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are back from a mission when Soap is struck down with a fever. Ghost navigates keeping his sergeant alive while coping with Soap unabashedly hitting on him, riling him up to bursting point.

Worth the Wait by trueheirofslytherin - Soap needs a sign that Ghost is interested in him. Ghost needs a sign that Soap is interested in him. One of them needs to take the initiative.

kiss the skin that crawls from you by congee4lunch - soap gets kidnapped. ghost tears through flesh and blood to get him back. amidst the carnage of a sinner's hands and in the absence of his god, he remembers what it means to love.

solemn prayer, poppy in my hair by congee4lunch - when soap invites ghost back home to scotland for a week, ghost hadn't imagined he would wind up in a fake dating scheme to trick soap's family, of all people. it also doesn't help that he's head over heels in love with soap, of all people.

Need You Now by SammyLuka - Alternatively, time in between missions makes Ghost realize that he doesn't know what to do without Soap. Thankfully, Soap understands.

Deep In The Fog by Crispyywheat - Soap is a big ol’ cryptid!! The 141 hunts down monsters/cryptids but Soap being a little idiot but also smart(?) decides to hide amongst the 141 as human. [I believe this one is currently being rewritten, the new work is called "Oh Weary Souls"]

I Didn't Need It, It Needed Me by starryathame - Ghost was wearing his balaclava, but he could feel his true mask slipping. He was becoming more Simon with every day Soap was around, and that knowledge terrified him. He hadn’t seen Simon Riley in the mirror in over a decade; he didn’t even know if he’d recognize himself anymore.

Affirmative, Sir by Wixiany - A mission goes wrong and both Soap and Ghost are left wounded. Back home, on his sick-leave, Soap's apartment gets broken into by the very men they were supposed to capture that day.

Wrap Your Arms Around My Cortex, Dig You In, and Let You Drain by [orphan_account] - Ghost returns to home base for the first time in four months and is unequipped to handle the growing emotions he feels toward a certain sergeant.

Say Yes To Me by [orphan_account] - Ghost gets held hostage and Soap saves him + the aftermath.

Pattern Breaker by mothbeast - A canon-compliant rework and extension of MW2: Reboot.

your finger on my hairpin trigger by lostReality - after Soap makes a few comments, about the mask, about sex, Ghost can't think of much else. And when Soap offers to fuck him after calling him pretty, why would he refuse?

earl grey skies by hyacinthwine - Johnny tries not to stare, but it’s difficult to tear his eyes away from the man. Really, there’s nothing that striking, he’s just an average Manchester man starting his day, yet Johnny wants to ogle just a little more. [coffeeshop AU]

Blinking by witchofsparkles - When Soap started seeing a very specific face with a skull mask and a pair of honey-brown eyes on his mirror and some glass, he thought he lost it good. Then it talked to him. [alternate dimension AU]

drag the lake and bring me home again by amongthebooks - During a stakeout mission in a remote area, Ghost is taken by the enemy. He's bound and thrown into a lake, and Soap has to scramble to get to him in time.

leave and liquor by your_wild_simp - Ghost is forced on a mental leave after a harsh mission. He crumbles, loses himself, has panic attacks and nightmares every time he remembers. But Soap is there, always there for him. Either through the phone, or physically rooming with him, Soap is there to help.

Between the Sand and the Stardust by tey_a - The one where soulmates leave marks on each other at their first skin on skin contact but feel drawn to each other before. Soap joins the 141 hoping to find a home in the form of a team. He finds it in the form of a man instead.

Six Feet Under And Quiet by snapple714 - Everyone in Soap's life has told him he's just too much. Not in the 141 though. But that can't last forever. He's bound to mess it up soon. It seems to happen on a particular mission, when Johnny gets trapped in a grave with a corpse. When the team realizes where they've made him wait for so long, they feel nothing but regret. Particularly Ghost, who is all too familiar with spending time underground…

Stubborn born by DepressoEspresso1000 - Soaps a fucking idiot and almost kills himself just to avoid medical leave, and Ghost is just as much of an idiot but he loves Soap and is not gonna watch him not care for himself.

If You Don't Stop, I'll End up Believing You by Hochseeperle - The new guy in the 141, Soap, doesn't have a filter when it comes to flirting. Ghost has no idea how to cope with that. He can't afford to lose face in front of his peers, so he decides to just… play along.

With Colours Over All The Wasted Years by kilikinnie - everyone owns a necklace that displays your soulmate's emotions through colours and their proximity through temperature. Ghost never expected to meet his, and Soap thought his was long gone.

(every scar will build my) Throne by Sillililli - Soap, the new leader of the MacTavish family mafia, is owed a debt by a family rivel. To repay him, Soap is given Ghost.

Keep The Change by hertzdonut - Soap's been shipped out to a safehouse in the Canadian Wilderness alone, except then Ghost shows up, but maybe Soap wasn't supposed to be shipped out in the first place? And Soap's been running on zero sleep and pure angst since they left Chicago. 'Tis the season.

real people by ghost_throat - ghost is struggling with his recent discharge from military service and doesn't hold much hope for his future. his former captain secured him a job at a coffee shop with a stupid name and annoying colleages and customers. [Restricted]

The ghost lingering in your shadow by arkinh - It took only a few weeks before objects seemed to move around without Soap remembering moving them. Lights were switched on or off by themselves, or flickering as he passed by them. For the first time in his life, he doubted his beliefs. Perhaps he should have left room for the possibility that it was all real?

What's The Name? by AvaLoren - John MacTavish is late to the coffee shop he works at after a late night argument with his girlfriend the previous night. He can't shake the memory playing on a loop in his head until a voice snaps him out of it. The customer before him has him fumbling for words and smiling like crazy. [another coffeeshop AU]

The Wind Will Howl Your Name by Minimelo - After a hunt goes wrong, John finds himself in the care of Ghost. [medieval AU, so so so good]

Cave In by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are forced to abandon a mission after the rain washes them out. They take shelter in a cave while they wait for the storm to pass, except this storm is sitting over them and won't budge. As night falls, the cave cracks, and they find themselves trapped. It wouldn't be a problem, except Soap is panicking, and Ghost is struggling to calm him down.

Burbon Soaked Letters by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap began finding letters full of threats and extremely personal information about his family and loved ones. He desperately hides it from his team while trying to find out the identity of his stalker. [the MCD tag on this one doesn't apply to the 141]

Safety Hazard by Red_Clegane - Soap is the adoptive son of President Price, but he’s hard to contain and a security risk. He’s never had a secret service agent last more than a few weeks. So, when Special Agent Ghost and his team are brought in to babysit, he thinks it’ll be another few weeks of fun. But a traitor is lurking in the Whitehouse and while Ghost protects Soap from himself, Simon will need to protect Johnny from something far more insidious.

[iamnmbr3]

Thoughts on Drarry and post war relationship?

Like, with canon in mind, do you think that Harry would fall first, Draco would or it'd be at the same time?

And who do you think would act on those feelings first and how would the Wizarding world react to the great Harry Potter being in love with a Death Eater?

Because I always viewed Harry as someone that knows what he wants and won't shy away from it, whereas Draco might have a harder time with all of it due to the fact he is a Death Eater, and while I don't think there's actual evidence of it, I always thought he'd feel unworthy of forgiveness and love after the war, so I think that if Harry fell for him Draco would try to push him away.

Sorry it these are two many questions for just one convo but I'm curious on your thoughts

What an absolutely delightful ask! I love getting things like this in my inbox. Definitely not too many questions. Thanks for waiting till I had a chance to sit down and write out a proper answer.

I think it's quite possible that by partway through 7th year Draco was forced to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for Harry Potter. Strong feelings. Once in a lifetime love feelings in fact. He's tried to run from it and he just can't anymore. Oh he's not foolish enough to think anything will ever come of it. Even if by some miracle they both survive the war he knows he ruined any chance of that long ago. But he does have to face the fact (which he's been hiding from for so long) that the feelings are there. (Meanwhile Harry's too busy compartmentalizing as hard as he can because he's got a war to fight).

And then the war ends and he goes right back to denial - trying to insist to himself that he's over it, he's moved on, he has. Because the alternative is too painful to deal with. Though when he meets Harry again - whether in 8th year or after - he can't help caring more than ever what Harry thinks of him. If they meet again many years later maybe Draco's even given up on trying to convince himself he'll ever be over Harry. He's in unrequited love with Harry Potter. It's just a fact of life, a tragic and painful condition he lives with (though he'd just die if anyone found out). Of course Harry would never want him but it's terribly important to him that Harry at least not think that he is who he used to be. He goes to great lengths to show Harry that he's changed because he needs Harry to know that much at least. Even though he knows it probably hardly matters because ultimately he's just a footnote in Harry's life. It's not like Harry thinks about him.

Harry, of course, thinks about Draco. A lot. Somehow in the aftermath of it all his mind keeps going back to Draco (and also their lives somehow keep intersecting) - returning the wand, thinking about how Draco saved him, maybe inexplicably missing the hawthorn wand a bit, speaking at Draco's trial, perhaps exchanges of letters in the aftermath. And beyond that. Harry can't help notice Draco anytime he's in his vicinity. Can't help reading and remembering any article about him. Can't help wondering what he's up to and making it his business to find out. And when they finally do start interacting regularly he can't help being struck by how much Draco has changed and how enjoyable he actually is to be around in a strange way, and how Draco no longer treats him badly but does still treat him as a person and not a mythical, nearly godlike figure.

Of course, this is not to say that I think they would just immediately fall into each other's arms while Harry quotes the best drarry metas at any doubters. I personally find it jarring and ooc when fics have Harry suddenly hate Draco postwar and be mad that he didn't go to Azkaban and have to be talked around by his friends who are somehow all besties with Draco while Harry is the outlier, because Harry never hated Draco even when he had the most cause to and felt more sympathy for him than others and even lied to obfuscate his crimes. So I don't think that makes sense.

But I also don't think it makes sense for Harry to just immediately act like besties with Draco postwar and start talking about him like he's swallowed a dozen tumblr metas. Because that doesn't feel true to life either. Yes they're drawn to each other. Yes postwar a lot of the barriers keeping them apart are gone. But it would still take time to get over the past contentiousness between them. Harry would need to see that Draco had changed. Especially if we're talking 8th year when emotions are still running high and all their wounds are fresh.

Or even later. I can see Harry initially being suspicious of Draco. I can see Draco caring way too much what Harry thinks of him but that emotion translating into him lashing out when that's the last thing he actually wants to do. Because that's what he tends to do when he's feeling vulnerable. I can see Harry being way too upset and disappointed if he thinks Draco might not have changed, while his friends wonder why he's taking it so personally. And I can see Harry, who is way more introspective than he often gets credit for, starting to think hard about his relationship with Draco and why what Draco does post-war matters to him quite so much.

He might tell himself he's investigating Draco for the safety of others, or even for Draco's own good so he doesn't waste the chance Harry gave him. But it's more than that. And if Harry realizes that Draco's in trouble somehow he's resolved to help. He's tired of the fight. And Draco feels the need to thank Harry somehow, to show him he's changed. Though he's also mystified about why Harry would speak up for him yet again, when he's already done so much. Except of course Harry would do that. Because he's just a good person like that isn't he? Draco was just too busy being jealous and spiteful over something he could never have to notice wasn't he? (It's way more than that of course; Draco has never been just another person to Harry).

Anyway they are always drawn to each other and they always find each other. In 8th year if they go back to Hogwarts or through letters or some other way otherwise. And however many years pass before it happens they both live rent free in each other's heads. Awkward and stilted conversations become less awkward over time and leads to joking that each finds surprisingly enjoyable and then more conversations and confidences and each finding it increasingly difficult to not notice how handsome the other is. And well, one thing leads to another. Harry's the first one to make a move because Draco would never. Even if he thinks the feeling is reciprocated he assumes it's just too impossible given who he is. It would ruin Harry's life.

Even once they get together Draco assumes this will have to be no more than a fling, a dirty shameful secret that Harry will probably regret someday. Harry's not buying that. He doesn't care what the public thinks and never has. And he tells Draco so.

When it inevitably eventually hits the press obviously a lot of the coverage is not kind. Eventually Harry starts to wonder if maybe Draco cares. And he actually pulls a Quibbler 2.0 and gives an interview and by the end of the week the public is obsessed with the epic story of 2 star crossed lovers. Of course, for some Draco's past can never be forgiven and Harry can never be forgiven for associating with him. But Harry doesn't care. He never asked people to look up to him in the first place.

Other people though are thrilled by the story of their epic romance. It's got rivals to lovers caught on the opposite sides of a war, it's got redemption, it's got drama, it's got heartbreak. What's not to like? Sure a lot of the details get mangled. But it works out alright in the end. And eventually as the years and decades go by it's just another story that was big in the day but is now just a fact of life.

[ichatake]

im curious since in ur request rules you have that you write yandere characters. What is your definition of yandere? How do you write them and what do you think about them? btw I really love your work.

and since we're on the topic, what characters would you see being a little yandere? What type of yandere would they be?

Hi Anon! I appreciate the question! Many people have different ideas of what a yandere is and how they should be portrayed. I’d like to start off by giving you the definition of what most people see a yandere:

Now, my definition of a yandere is a person who is completely devoted to another, to the point where they develop unhealthy tendencies. I tend to write my Yandere characters in a more realistic way. (I tend to stay away from the whole ‘oh gosh you just killed this person because they looked at me weird’ kind of writing style. It’s just not my cup of tea)

Since I’ve always been a big fan of psychological horror and dark romance, I portray yanderes as narcissistic, manipulative, and simply not safe to be around. They might have stalkerish tendencies, yes, but I like to focus more on how they would affect the person they like. (I know it kinda takes away from the whole definition of yandere) Basically, I just like turning the usual lovestruck, insane yandere into a more realistic version of themselves (as realistic as they could get in the ninja world. I hate completely altering a character’s personality into something they’re not).

What do I think of yanderes? Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to meet one in real life. I like reading and writing them in fiction, but in no way shape or form do I romanticize or agree with whatever the Yandere does. I do not condone any type abuse because it’s absolutely vile that someone might go out their way to hurt others. Having said that, I think many people might not find the way I write yanderes very pleasing, because it’s not what they’re used to seeing, and that’s totally okay!

Now to answer you final questions:

I believe there are a few characters that might have the possibilities of becoming a Yandere or having Yandere tendencies:

Obito (way too obsessive):

I know a lot of people think the same way as I do. I believe that Obito is a man with serious problems.

He technically grew up alone, just with his grandmother. He almost succeeded in putting everyone in an infinite genjutsu, where he could distort reality to his liking and be with the girl he loved.

It’s safe to say that he would be a yandere where if push comes to shove, he will do whatever it takes to have you near him.

He is obsessive (he had a lot of pictures of Rin when he was young, so…). He needs to remember your face clearly, even when he’s away from you. You’re the reason why he breathes. He lives because you allow him to. That’s what he thinks.

Madara(protective and controlling):

Hear me out, this man is complicated.

Sometimes he would put his desires over you, but if we’re going to be honest, he’d shred down the world for you.

If something ever happened to you, Madara would take no time in avenging you. He’s a little different to Obito. Although he’s obsessive, he doesn’t completely revolve his life around you.

He likes feeling possessive over you, but he can leave at any time that he needs to. You have to wait for him. He’ll be a protective yandere, looking out for you and making sure you understand that he’ll be the only one there for you.

Kakashi (protective, pathological liar) :

Whoa? Kakashi? Really? Yes really. This man has grown up alone. He made friends, they died. They left. Anytime he got close to someone, they’d disappear. It’s only logical that if he were to fall for someone, he’d like to protect them.

However, this protectiveness can get overwhelming. He knows you’re capable of protecting yourself, he simply doesn’t want you to. If one thing he’s done wrong in life, it’s protecting those around him. This was his time to make up for all those times he failed.

He isn’t used to affection, but when he has it, he craves it. Badly. You need to remind him that you love him too, or else he might just think you’re ready to leave him at any time.

He isn’t above lying to get you to do something. He’s lied before, so why not lie again? If it gets things going his way, he won’t care. A little harmless lie can turn into a bunch of them.

Sasuke (distant, but protective) :

If he likes you, he definitely won’t show it. If he genuinely cares, he won’t be above doing anything inhumane. He’s already done a lot of things in this world that got him hate, adding another one to his list wouldn’t be a problem.

He’ll work from the shadows. He’ll love you from far away. He isn’t really affectionate and doesn’t know how to show it.

One things certain though, you’re his lover. He will give his life for you or take another.

You ask him for the moon and he will serve it in a silver platter before leaving.

Do I think other character could be Yandere? Well yes, this is fiction after all, but these are the best that fit that description. Anyways, thank you for your questions! I’d love to answer more if anyone else is curious or wants to request some Yandere content!

[dynazrll3]

The Look Of Love (ViktorXFem!Reader)

Chapter 2

this is my friend's idea (@cecilliaz272)

There might be some grammar + spelling mistakes

Leave a like after reading this, please:)

Chapter 1:

Viktor was in the lab, hunched over his desk before he heard footsteps. He assumed it was Jayce, but when he turned and started to discuss about the recent improvements of hextech, he saw you instead.

His words stopped for a moment before he spoke. "Oh, Y/N you're just in time...I want you to look at this hextech that Jayce and I made."

"Ooh, impressive... How's the progress?" You said, looking quite impressed with what Viktor and Jayce have created.

Viktor grabbed the notes, glancing through them for a second before speaking. "It is slow as expected..Jayce has some issues working with me, which is holding it back a little..."

He continued "He is always off to do something else and leaves me with it, which I assume he doesn't think I'm capable of handling it. I can handle twice the work he does. But unfortunately.. I have to wait around."

"Ah, that sounds promising, about our project... I'm almost finished and I'll leave the last touches to you." You said with a sigh of relief.

Viktor smiles to himself, impressed by your hard work. "Already? I expected it to take longer than that. Quite impressive... I'll start working on that as soon as you're finished."

You smiled softly, your eyes warm and reassuring as they met Viktor's. "No need to rush, Viktor." You said, your words gentle yet firm. "We still have plenty of time."

Viktor glances at you, observing you for a moment. "Hm.. you're right. I tend to lose myself in my work quite often." A faint, almost wry smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Jayce thinks I spend too much time working on inventions and not enough time on...other things."

"Well, he's not wrong."

Viktor let out a sigh and rubs his forehead. "Perhaps, but I'll still get the work done in the end of the day. So I don't see any issue with that."

Viktor picks up a few of his notes and begins to look through them again. You looked through his books then said "Mm.. that's a lot of books you got here."

"Yes...I'm a frequent reader. I tend to spend hours engrossed in the words sometimes." He said as he glances at his books. He picks up a black leather book, with golden symbols on the cover, flipping through the pages before pausing, staring at a page for a moment.

"Same here. Though...the books I read are more interesting." You said.

Viktor chuckles before looking up to you. "Oh really? And just what types of books do you usually read?"

You hesitated to give an answer. "Oh well... It's really unnecessary for me to tell you." Viktor raised an eyebrow, feeling intrigued. "Well, it might seem childish but...I do love a good old romance books.."

Viktor smirked slightly, amused by your answer. "Really? I didn't expect you to read such thing..And here I thought you were a mature intellectual reader with good taste."

You gasped a little. "I am!" You huffed. Viktor chuckles again by your reaction. " Calm down. I was only teasing.. There's nothing wrong with reading those types of books. Plus, you're already mature for your age."

You blushed. You couldn't believe it...Viktor? Teasing you? Gosh, is this a dream? "...I see."

Viktor notices your blush, which made him curious, amused by your reaction. He walks over to the other side of the table, a smirk still on his face, before he said; "That's a cute blush." His voice was smooth and soothing...

You shoved his face with a book. It took him by surprise so he stumbles, almost falling because of his poor leg. You noticed and immediately tried to catch him. There was a loud thud.

As you open your eyes..you saw that you have fallen on top of him. Both of you were close. A little too close. You could hear his heartbeat, and so can he. You both got lost in each others eyes before you asked "...Are you alright?"

Viktor was stunned. His heart was pounding in his ears from the sudden fall and his chest was rising with rapid breaths, feeling your body pressed against his. When you asked if he was alright he just stared up at you for a few seconds before talking, his voices suddenly much lower and softer than before. "I... I'm fine... a-are you?"

"Yes..." You immediately got off of him, embarrassed. "I apologise for my.. behaviour." Viktor watches you get off of him, missing the feeling of you body against his, before sitting up. He runs his hand through his messy brown hair.

His heart was still racing and he tried to calm himself down, but with the way you looked at him, it made it even faster.

"It's alright. No need to apologise. It was an accident.."

You gave him a hand, wanting to help him up. He grabs your hand as you help him up, a small blush appeared on his face. Luckily for him, it was barely noticeable. Once he got up, he didn't let go of your hands. He held onto them loosely, not wanting to let go.

He looked down at you. The height differences between you both made you look small in comparison, not that it was a bad thing though.

His hands felt...warm. "...Viktor, uhm...are you perhaps-" Jayce suddenly came in, and your words stopped.

Viktor quickly lets go of your hands, the moment disturbed by the sound of the door opening. His heart dropped as Jayce walked through, he was relieved and yet annoyed to see Jayce walking in at that exact moment.

"Ah... Jayce. Perfect timing as always." Viktor said, clearly saying it in a sarcastic way.

You looked away, with a slight blush on your cheeks. Meanwhile, Jayce was confused. Why did the atmosphere in the room changed all of a sudden? Did he do something wrong?

"Uhm..since Jayce is here, I should get going. Goodbye, Viktor." You said before you waved off and left

Viktor watches you leave, silently wishing you could have stayed a bit more. He let out a sigh as the door closed shut. He turned to Jayce with his arms crossed. "You have...bad timing."

Jayce looked at him with an even more confused expression. "WHAT DID I EVEN DO???"

***

It's been three days, and Viktor was standing right infront of your house. He couldn't believe he's here. Well, how did he get himself in this situation? This was because the lab was occupied by Heimerdinger and Jayce. So, Viktor had to do the finishing touches at your place.

He took a deep breath before knocking on your front door. You were in your room when you heard the knocking. You put down the book you were reading and got up from your bed. You were wearing a white tank-top with black leggings. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun. You headed towards the door to see who it was.

When you saw it was Viktor, you gasped and ran back to your room to find any decent clothes to wear. You even brushed your hair quickly to make it look more neat. It's been five minutes and Viktor was getting a little impatient, so he was about to knock again when you suddenly swing the door open. "Oh V-Viktor! What brings you here-?" You asks, your heart still beating like crazy from the rush.

Viktor looked up from his cane as the door opened. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you in the doorway, looking as beautiful as always. He tried to maintain his composure, leaning against his cane as he smiled at you.

"Ahh..you see, I had a small issue with Jayce and Professor Heimerdinger at the lab, so I was wondering if it would be alright to work here for the meantime?"

"Yes of course, no problem at all but uhm..." You hesitated. "It is quite messy." Viktor chuckled, a small grin appeared on his face. He tilted his head as you spoke, looking at you with curiousity. "It's alright. I won't be bothered by a small mess. I've stayed in much worse places before." He said, reassuring you.

And so, he came inside and saw that your house was simple, yet very beautiful. He was also surprised that you lived at a very decent yet rich house since you were from nobility.

He glances around the place, examining your home. A sense of wonder and curiousity in his eyes. He walks a bit further in before turning to look at you again. "You have a...lovely home. It's quite different from what I expected though."

"What does that mean?" You asked with curiousity. "Well, it's just.." Viktor paused for a second, thinking of the right words to use. "Judging by them..family you come from, I expected you to live in a more... extravagant place as you might say."

"Ah, well..I did live in my family's mansion. But after I became an adult, I decided to live my own life and settle in a simple place as it's just me.." Viktor nods as he listens, a look of understanding on his face, it makes sense that you would do such a thing. He glances at you again, a small smile forming on your face. " I can understand that. Everyone wants to be... independent after they reach a certain age. I know better than anyone about that."

There was an awkward silence so you asked, "Uhm..would you like some tea?"

"Yes, I would love some tea." Viktor lets out a small sigh of relief, his leg starting to hurt from standing for so long. So, he took a seat on the sofa behind him. You went to your kitchen and brewed some tea to serve.

***

Viktor took the cup of tea from you and nods in thanks before sipping some of it. The warmth of the tea made him feel a bit better. He sets the cup down on the coaster on the table infront of him, before leaning back on the sofa a little bit, looking at you.

You then went to take the machine that you both were working on and sets it on the table. "Here it is. Did I do well?" Viktor looks at the machine on the table, a proud look appeared in his eyes.

"Mm..you did brilliantly as usual. And all that was left is the modifications I have planned for." He began to examine every part of the machine carefully. Soon, Viktor started to work on the final touches. He worked diligently, his hands working precisely and quickly. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he fiddles with the parts, his mind focused solely on the work at hand.

You watched him as he worked. God..you just can't help yourself but to think of how handsome he looks...looking all serious and passionate. Your cheeks flushed red, warmth spreading across your face as you watched him.

Viktor's slender fingers gently touched the cold surface of the machine, his eyes darting across every detail, working thoroughly. His expression focused and determined, completely immersed in the work before him. The silence of the room was strangely calming. The only sound being the soft hum of the machine and the occasional rustle of the pages on Viktors notes. As he continued to work, he felt a pair of eyes that kept staring at him.

You made eye contact. Oh shit, he caught you. "...sorry...did I look weird?" Viktor looked up at you, noticing your nervous expression. He then chuckled faintly, a small smile on his face "No need to apologize... and no, you don't look weird. I was just a bit distracted, that's all" You gave a little nod as he continued working.

After finishing the final touches, he finally took a breath to relax. He sat back on the sofa, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the tension in his shoulders relaxing a bit. He let out a small sigh before opening his eyes and looking at you again. "There...finished at last."

He sets his notes down on the table and ran his fingers through his hair, which was now messed up from all the work he had been doing. He shifted his seat on the sofa, his leg was starting to hurt again, so he winced slightly. "Are you alright?" You asked.

Viktor looked up at you, trying to hide the slight pain he was in. He didn't want you to be worried. "Yes, I'm fine..my leg is just being annoying as always. I've spent too much time working on the machine and not enough time resting, that's all."

"...Do you even rest at all?" You asked, concerned.

He laughed a little, slightly taken off guard by your question, and he knew he couldn't lie to you. "You want the honest answer, or a lie to make you feel better?"

You huffed. "That just explains it. Rest is important too, Viktor." He chuckled at your reaction, amused by your concern. "I know it's important...I just get too immersed in my work. I often lose track of time, not to mention the lab isn't the most... comfortable place to relax in."

"...Why don't you stay here for awhile? It's not evening yet." Viktor was surprised by your offer. You too was surprised when you suddenly blurted it out. Viktor didn't expect you to suggest he should stay the night at your place, but the idea was certainly tempting. "Oh...Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble? I don't want to impose on your hospitality."

"Not at all." You had a warming smile on your lips. Viktor thought about it for a second, knowing that he didn't want to go back to his cold and empty apartment. Though..sleeping on your sofa is more comfortable than on his. He eventually nodded, accepting your invitation. "If you're sure, then I don't mind staying over."

Viktor laid on the sofa, the soft fabric of the cushions against his skin. He tossed and turned for a few minutes before finally relaxing and closing his eyes. It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep sleep, the exhaustion from working on the machine finally catching up to him. His normally brooding features looked soft and relaxed as he slept, the sharp lines of his face smoothed out and his messy hair fell over his forehead.

Your eyes softened as you looked at him. His sleeping appearance looks so... soft and peaceful. You giggled a little by how cute he was. Gosh...you wished that you could just leave kisses on his whole face. But.. you knew he would be weirded out, especially since you both aren't in a relationship. You sighed.

As Viktor continued to sleep, unaware that you were watching over him, he shifted a little in his sleep, rolling over and burying his face into the sofa cushions. His breathing was soft and steady. His body was completely relaxed as he slept through the night. You felt relieved though. You were glad that he is resting well now.

A few more hours had pass, and the sunlight slowly gives way to the soft dark of moonlight peeking through the windows. Viktor slowly opens his eyes, squinting a little. He groaned quietly as he sat up.

"Did you get a good sleep?" You asked, making Viktor turn to look at you. He rubs his eyes and yawns quietly before nodding in response to your question. "Yes...I did." He lets out another yawn before stretching his arms above his head, his muscles relaxing from the movement. Your eyes soften. "Be safe on your way home.."

He looks over at you, noticing the softness in your eyes. He stands up slowly, grabbing his cane from beside the sofa and walking over to you. "I will. And...thank you for letting me stay the night. It was more comfortable than the lab or my apartment.."

"Your welcome. Oh, and here." You gave him a container filled with some food. "I made it while you were asleep..Please do eat them at home." Viktor was little surprised as you give him the food. He smiles faintly, touched by your thoughtfulness. "Thank you... you didn't have to do that." He takes the food, holding it in one hand, before looking at you again. "I... guess I should get going now"

But as he was about to leave, you stopped him. "Wait! Viktor..." When he heard his name being called out, he stopped in his tracks. He turns around, tilting his head and looked at you curiously. "Yes?"

"Ahem..uhm, you know there's going to be a party, right..? Are you..going?" Viktor's expression hardens slightly at the mention of the party, he's never been good in social situations. He took a deep breath, mulling over the idea in his head. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go. Parties weren't exactly his scene, but at the same time... "To be honest... I don't know if I'm going"

Your smile faded slightly. "Why not...?" Viktor leaned against his cane, sighing. "Parties aren't my...idea of a good time. I'm not a fan of large crowds and I'm not exactly the best at talking to people.." He said honestly. "Oh, I see.." You felt a pang of disappointment. You had been looking forward to seeing him there, imagining how his presence would brighten the atmosphere and make the event more enjoyable.

Viktor is silent for a moment, mulling over something in his brain. He glances at you, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe he should just ask... what's the worst that can happen? "Although... if you're going... I wouldn't mind going with you." Eh..? Did you hear that right? "...Really?" Your expression immediately softened.

He nods slightly, a hint of blush on his cheeks. "Yes. Although.. I'd understand if you'd rather go with someone else... but I thought... we could go together, if you'd like to that is..."

As soon as you heard him say that, you wrapped your arms around his body, hugging him. "I would love to!"

Viktor was a bit taken off guard by your sudden embrace. He smiles faintly as he feels your arms wrapped around him. He hesitantly hugs you back, feeling a bit strange but also...warm and comfortable.

You realised what you did, and blushed. You immediately backed away. "Sorry-"

"No, don't apologise...it's alright." His voice was unusually gentle as he spoke. His heart was still racing after the brief moment of unexpected physical contact. He looked at you with a slight smile on his face, his blush still faintly visible on his cheeks.

"...see you later then?"

He nodded, still feeling the warmth of your embrace lingering on his body. He adjusted his cane in his grip, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Yes, I'll see you later...and I'll be looking forward to the party."

After Viktor left, leaving you alone, he was a blushing mess, and so were you. He walked out of your house in a slight daze, his mind still replaying the moment of you embracing him. His thoughts were a mess, both ecstatic that you agreed to go with him to the party, and nervous out of his mind at the thought of actually going to the party with you. Meanwhile, you were giggling and couldn't even sleep from too much happiness. You squealed and buried your face in your pillow.

Let's just say...you both were really looking forward to the party.