#next day is my ridiculously early class and then a long day

[chronicillnesscaneffoffplease]

I’ve had a few “whoops this thing I stopped doing is actually helping me” moments recently.

I’ve felt wretched and like I was coming down with the flu recently. It felt more than my normal PEM symptoms, and I was really concerned. And then I realise it’s spring, a bunch of stuff is blooming, and it’s been sooooo windy. And I stopped taking antihistamines and my nasonex sometime last year (antihistamines bc we thought it might have been causing some side effects, nasonex bc I hate the sensation of nasal sprays and need motivation to use it). Pesky hayfever. Needless to say I’m feeling much better having restarted my regimen. I felt a bit silly that I could have avoided feeing miserable though.

I went out for an appointment yesterday in my “knock about the house” shoes that are podiatrist loathed (nil ankle support, nil arch support, worn down), rather than my lace up shoes with my orthotics. After that appointment, I thought I’d check out a new store that’s opened at the shops nearby. I ended up doing a LOT of walking at the shops and today my ankles are sooooo painful and my hips been acting up. I guess it’s good to know that my shoes and orthotics are doing good things in terms of symptom prevention (as well as better longer-term outcomes) but damn do I feel ouchie.

I’m framing it as “yay negative data also tells us important things” because I gotta remember it’s not my fault when these things happen but it is good to try learn from them. And frankly, when there’s so many things going on with your health and condition management as a disabled person, it’s okay when things fall through the cracks. It’s gonna happen. Especially when there’s lots of non-disability stuff going on too. It’s okay.

[fear-is-truth]

# BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S ❝SUGAR BABY❞ AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM — HCs

warnings — slowburn. brief mentions of sex synopsis — being a broke college student that caught the attention of none other than bruce wayne a/n — this is the fluffy slowburn sfw version… the 18+ one is still in the works

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

it started when you were a broke college student in your early twenties, juggling classes, part-time jobs, and an unrelenting mountain of bills. bruce wayne, freshly thirty, was already a household name—gotham’s elusive billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist.

you first crossed paths at a charity gala, where you were working as a server, weaving through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes. you’d only seen bruce wayne in tabloids before, so when you caught him leaning against a marble pillar, watching you, you simply froze.

“you seem a little… distracted,” his eyes flicked to the tray you balanced expertly. “nervous, or just tired of all this nonsense?” you gave him a polite, slightly weary smile. “neither. just trying to get through the night without spilling on anyone important. still got a paper to finish.”

his lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t press further. at the end of the night, though, you found an obscene tip tucked beneath his empty glass—crisp hundred bills folded neatly, more money than you’d made all week.

weeks later, he appeared again—this time at a hole-in-the-wall café near campus where you worked part-time. it wasn’t his scene; he stuck out like a sore thumb in his tailored black coat, looking utterly out of place among the students.

he didn’t say much that first visit, just ordered black coffee and left another ridiculous tip. but he came back. again and again. sometimes he’d stay long enough for a brief conversation, other times he’d sit quietly in a corner, newspaper in hand. it wasn’t just the tips that stuck to you—it was the way he listened. bruce never made you feel small or dismissed your struggles, like so many others did.

when he first offered to help you financially, he did it with tact that left you room to preserve your pride. “you’re working too hard,” he said one evening. “let me take some of the weight off—just until things settle. consider it an investment in your future.” there was a sincerity in his voice that made it sound like a practical solution rather than a handout.

accepting his help wasn’t easy. you’d been so accustomed to clawing your way through life that the idea of someone else shouldering your burden felt unnatural. after days of hesitation, you finally agreed—but only on the condition that you’d pay him back one day. bruce had only nodded, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk, like he knew you never would.

he never made you feel indebted, though. if anything, he treated it like helping you was a privilege.

when your ancient car finally gave up, bruce didn’t even wait for you to ask for help. within the week, a sleek, brand-new model was delivered to your apartment, the keys tucked into an envelope with a simple note: you need something reliable. you tried to thank him, but he just waved it off. “just focus on getting where you need to go.”

your decrepit laptop, with its constant crashing and refusal to load anything on time, was next. one day, you came home to find a pristine, state-of-the-art model sitting on your desk, already set up and ready to use. you didn’t even have to ask.

bruce never demanded anything in return. the closest he came to asking for favours were the occasional lunches or dinners where he’d pick your brain about your studies, your ambitions, your dreams. he always seemed genuinely interested, never letting the conversation veer into anything too personal unless you led it there.

you realized over time that it wasn’t just the money, the gifts, or even the way he treated you like an equal—it was the steady presence he provided. bruce wasn’t there to fix your life or control it; he just wanted to make it a little easier. and somehow, that made all the difference.

when you stayed up late working on papers, bruce would sometimes settle on the couch nearby, a novel in his hands. he never intruded, but his quiet presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone. on particularly rough nights, he’d bring you a cup of tea without saying a word, setting it gently beside you before returning to his book.

on your birthday, he surprised you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers—something you’d mentioned in passing months ago—and a beautifully wrapped box containing a classic hermès birkin. the card attached to it read simply, “something to carry all those books in.”

his gifts were always thoughtful, never ostentatious in a way that would make you feel uneasy. designer coats, shoes, and bags—each impeccably tailored to your taste, yet discreet. the labels were always tucked away, hidden in folds and linings. they were things you could wear without being worried you’d get mugged. nothing about them screamed, “i have a sugar daddy.”

bruce never tried to “buy” your affection. you didn’t owe him anything—not in the transactional way most would expect. he just wanted to see you comfortable, to help you in ways that went beyond financial support. and, over time, you realized you cared for him too—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

he had an uncanny ability to remember the smallest details about you. the way you took your coffee. the name of the professor whose lectures you dreaded. how the sound of rain on a window always calmed you. those little moments of attentiveness.

at first, bruce kept you at arm’s length emotionally, cautious about pulling you deeper into his complicated world. but as the months went by, as your late-night talks stretched into early mornings, it became clear that bruce didn’t see this as a favour or an obligation. he cared for you in a way that went far beyond surface-level kindness.

when you went through a bad breakup, he didn’t try to fix it or console you with empty platitudes. instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest.

it wasn’t long before the line between benefactor and friend blurred entirely. he was no longer just footing your bills or buying you thoughtful gifts—bruce got greedy. he didn’t just want to take care of you financially; he wanted all of you.

one night, you were venting about your professors, frustration pouring out in a messy jumble of words. bruce listened intently, brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving you his undivided attention.

“you’re too nice to me,” you blurted, the words slipping out like a spew of vomit. before doubt could creep in, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was a kiss that changed everything—as you half expected him to gently push you away, his hand came up to cradle your face, deepening it.

the kiss led to one thing, then another, and before you knew it, you were tangled together in his sheets, lost in his kisses, his touch, his quiet attention to your every reaction. bruce wasn’t just passionate; he was thorough in a way that unraveled you completely—it was hands down the best sex you’d ever had.

when you woke up the next morning, still tangled in his arms, a wave of uncertainty hit you. maybe it was nerves or overthinking, but you couldn’t stop wondering if you’d crossed a line you shouldn’t have. sensing your unease, bruce kissed your shoulder, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “i hope you know this changes nothing… we’re fine.”

and just like that, you became his official “sugar baby.” not that the dynamic between you two changed drastically—it simply gave bruce an excuse to really spoil you.

the secrecy was part of the thrill, but also a necessity. bruce wasn’t ready to let the world know, and truthfully, you weren’t either. the thought of being reduced to a tabloid headline or a shallow label like “sugar baby” or “sugar daddy” felt like a betrayal of the genuine connection you’d built.

he started sending you to your favourite spa on weekends, claiming you deserved a break from all the stress. when you protested that it was too much, he just shrugged. “self-care is important,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

your closet, which had been a collection of fast fashion and thrifted pieces, was slowly replaced with the row, max mara, burberry, and dior.

your jewelry collection grew as well. delicate van cleef & arpels bracelets, tiffany & co. pendants, and diamond-stud earrings from cartier found their way into your life. he gifted you a dainty rolex, understated yet stunning, with a cheeky note: “don’t be late to class.”

despite all of this, bruce was careful to ensure it never looked like you were “living large.” you stayed in your same modest apartment, though it was clear his influence was woven into the details: a state-of-the-art security system, upgrades to your furniture and appliances that made life a little easier.

dinners became a regular occurrence, whether it was a reservation at gotham’s most exclusive restaurant or an extravagant meal in his penthouse.

when you graduated, bruce was there, blending into the crowd in a simple black coat, inconspicuous among the sea of families and friends. you didn’t spot him at first—he wasn’t the type to draw attention when he didn’t want to—but when your eyes finally landed on his, he gave you the smallest of nods. after the ceremony, he approached you quietly, slipping a small velvet box into your hand. you opened it to reveal a key.

“what’s this for?” you asked, already overwhelmed, fingers trembling slightly. “your new apartment,” he replied simply. then, after a pause, “unless… you’d rather move in with me.”

from then on, everything changed. bruce wasn’t just your benefactor; he was your best friend, your confidant, and eventually, your lover.

[andillneverbethesame]

Its nice to have a friend with james and ravenclaw!reader pls 🙏

love this! thank u for the request <3

it's nice to have a friend

❥ james potter x ravenclaw fem reader, remus lupin x sirius black

❥ summary; you and james swear you two are only friends. except you're not.

❥ warnings; none really.just not reread for gramatical mistakes

❥ a/n: this is very shorttt sorryy

my ts masterlist pt 1, pt 2

“alright, class," professor sinitra said at the end of the astronomy lesson. "that's the end for today. i'll see you all next week. and don't forget your essays about your birth planet!”

“finally,” you sighed in relief. “i am so exhausted.” you hated these friday astronomy lessons at midnight. but you were grateful you didn't need to be up early the next day.

“me too,” pandora yawned. she looked as if she was already half asleep. everyone seemed to be. except james potter, who was now making his way to you with an energetic smile on his face.

“hello, y/n," he grinned and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“hello, jamie.”

“can i walk you to ravenclaw tower?” he asked you and you raised your eyebrow. “it's not safe for a pretty girl like you to walk around the castle at night.”

“i won't be alone,” you replied. “i got pando—” you turned around to your friend who was next to you just five seconds ago. however, she was nowhere to be seen then. “or no. . . well, then i guess you can walk me.”

on the way, you notice james walked unusually slow. he always walked so fast that you almost had to run to catch up with him but this evening, it seemed as if you were faster than him. as if he wanted to make this walk last as long as possible.

you smiled as you shook your head at the ridiculous thought. you and james were only friends. you've always been just that.

“do you wanna hang out tomorrow at hogsmeade?” james suddenly asked.

you glanced at him. “what about the boys?”

“well, sirius and remus are having a date and peter still feels sick. it would be just the two of us. we could go to honey dukes and get the strawberry chocolate you like so much. and then we could stop at madam puddifoot's and get some tea and cake,” he offered. it almost sounded like a date. you cursed yourself again for the thought.

“you hate madam puddifoot's,” you pointed out the flaw in his plan.

“but you like her jasmine tea,” james said. and i like you, he wanted to add. “come on, it's my treat.”

you rolled your eyes. “you don't need to pay me for hanging out with you, jamie. i'd love to spend time with you in hogsmeade. it'll be fun."

james waited at you in front of the ravenclaw tower at ten in the morning sharp, just like he promised.

despite the fact that it was not a date and just two friends hanging out, you spend quite some time getting ready, wanting it to be perfect.

pandora teased you from her spot on her bed as she watched you chosing between two outfits — dark blue sweatshirt with black skirt and black sweatshirt with white skirt (you chose the second option in the end). you could only roll your eyes and deny every single one of her accusations but you both knew very well what was the truth.

james was wearing his gryffindor sweatshirt and opted to pair it with black pants. his hair was a mess, as always, looking like he had just gotten out of the bed without even trying to style it. he complained about it often but you thought it suited him well.

“ready?" he asked with his hands in his pockets, a smile lighting up his face.

“ready.” you nodded.

“where do you wanna go first?” james questioned as you two entered the village. a lot of people were there every day, but especially today when almost five hundred of hogwarts students decided to spend the day there.

“i'd really love to get the tea at madam puddifoot's now,” you answered honestly. “i'm feeling rather cold and need to warm up,” you blew warm breath on your hands and rubbed them together, hoping for at least temporally feeling of warmth. but it was no use. you almost couldn't feel your fingers anymore.

“why didn't you take gloves with you?” james asked.

“i lost them,” you replied with a pout on your lips. james then took off his pair of black gloves from his hands and handed them to you. “i— but. . what about you?”

he waved it off. “don't worry. i'll be fine.”

“are you sure?”

he nodded and you could tell he really meant it.

you two ended up at three broomsticks for a late lunch. despite each of you eating a piece of cake, a chocolate bar and shared a packet of sour candies, you two found yourselves quite hungry after all the walking.

madam rosmerta greeted you as soon as you walked in (though she was mainly talking to james, who ordered two butterbeers and then winked at her) and you chose a table by the window.

“what would you like?” james asked. “it's on me.”

you gave him a look. “i am not completely broke, y'know? you paid enough for me today. let me pay for you once, too.”

“not happening,” was james's immediate response as he shook his head. “i am a gentleman.”

“i never said you weren't,” you laughed. “but you can't pay for me all the time. i'm not your girlfriend.”

that seemed to shut him up as he couldn't think of anything else to say. at that moment, rosmerta came to your table with butterbeers and asked what would you like to have for your meal.

“i'll have shephard's pie," you spoke.

“beef pasties for me. thank you, rosmerta,” james smiled.

“thank you for today, jamie,” you said once the woman walked away. “i really needed this. i've been so stressful with everything that's going on.”

the boy knew exactly what you were talking about. attacks on muggles and muggleborn wizards and witches have been more and more frequent this year. a lot of your friends were muggleborns, and so was your dad. you prayed every day, begging whoever was up there to not let anything happen to those you loved.

james nodded understandingly. he, too, was worried for the future of the wizarding world. and he knew that he will be joining the order of the phoenix as soon as he could, and he'd be fighting for the good side as hard as he could.

his hand reached across the table for yours, squeezing it lightly for some kind of comfort to give you. you smiled sadly at him and sweets his hand back.

“yeah, me too. i'm sure everything will be okay,” he tried to reassure you. but you both weren't so sure. you weren't going to ruin this moment, though.

“thank you. it's nice to have a friend like you,” you said and james nodded.

yeah, he thought. a friend.

from across the room, remus and sirius, although they were on their own date, were watching you two with an immense interest.

“remus, he touched her hand!” sirius whisper-yelled at his boyfriend and hit him lightly as if he was trying to catch his attention as if remus wasn't spying on you two either. “he touched her hand!”

“yes, sirius, i'm not blind!” remus replied.

“come on, kiss!” the dark-haired boy began to pray. “i'm tired of them tiptoeing around each other like that.”

remus raised an eyebrow as he looked at sirius. “you did the same with me.”

“shut up.”

a month later, it was valentine's day and you had no one to spend it with.

all of your friends were going on a date with their partners or potential partners, but you were in bed with book.in your hands and a cup of tea on your bedside table. no one was in your dorm, leaving you completely interrupted to get lost in the story.

that was until there was a knock on your door.

you groaned. the words on the pages seemed to be getting rather. . . interesting.

"who is it?"

"your favourite boy in the whole world." was the answer and you quickly sat up and fixed your appearance. you'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"come in!" the door opened, revealing james in a black suit and a big boquet of flowers in his hand. your mouth opened at his look. he looked really attractive, don't get me wrong, but you couldn't understand why was he dressed like that. "what's going on?"

"well, dear y/n, me and you are going on a date, that's what's going on."

"on a date?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. "as. . . friends?"

james shook his head. "no, not as friends. we're more than that." he didn't give you a time to say anything before he continued with, "get ready. i'll wait in the common room."

you blinked in confusion as you watched him close the door and then you squealed once you were sure he was far enough to not hear you.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: Age gap, smut, p in v penetration, fingering, wing play, shadow play, you get the dea

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Couldn’t get the idea of Rhys’ daughter with Az out of my head so I decided to write it down, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

From the moment he’d laid eyes on you, a newborn still covered in the blood and fluids of Feyre, cradled gently in her arms, he’d known you would be special.

Not just special to him as a family member, in the same way your older brother, Nyx, was, but something deep in him, more ancient and wise, had known.

He’d watched you grow up, always watching quietly along with everyone else as you slowly grew.

When you’d started crawling, large blue eyes peering up at Rhys as you had giggled and cooed, legs and arms moving clumsily in tandem to your father, who was kneeling, arms open and beckoning you to come closer. Feyre had been sat down on the edge of the couch, Nyx, only four years old, sitting on her lap as she’d raked fingers through his dark curls.

“There’s my pretty girl,”

Rhys had murmured to you in a soft tone as you’d finally made your way into his arms, he’d picked you up and began gently giving you little kisses as your pudgy little hands grabbed at him, hooking onto his bottom lip and tugging.

Cassian’s hearty laughter could be heard from across the room as he walked in to find you pulling on every part of your father you could get your hands on. He had plopped down on the couch next to Feyre, leaning back slightly and settling as Nyx crawled into his lap.

Azriel had been there when you’d taken your first steps. When your tiny little legs had slowly, unsteadily begun moving, arms thrown out to balance as your fuzzy little wings had been stretched to the side to hopefully keep you from falling.

What had been the thing that had made you finally walk after all of your parents failed attempts to entice you into it?

A beetle.

It sounded ridiculous, and looking back on it, it was.

Nyx had originally brought it in, hoping to scare you and make you run away from it, with Feyre hot on his heels trying to make him put it back down.

Whether it had been the way its wings had flapped so quickly, or the shiny, rainbow iridescence of its shell that reminded you of the rainbows that formed over the Sidra after light rain, you’d been fascinated. Feyre had let out an ear-piercing squeak as soon as she’d seen you start walking, and towards a live bug no less.

Rhys was there in an instant, clearly wondering what had caused his mate such distress when he caught the sight of it and grinned larger than ever before, maybe. Nyx got closer to you, the bug still squirming in his hands, but before he could get it to the babbling baby, Azriel calmly stepped in and gently grabbed the shiny insect, releasing it out of an open window.

He remembered your first word, which, unsurprisingly, had been “mama”. He remembered your first day of school, where you had been shy and almost shed a few tears when separating from your parents.

And gods, he definitely remembered your first day of middle school, when you’d come home sniffling and his first instinct had been to murder whoever had made you feel such a way.

It had been happy tears, apparently, when a friend you’d lost contact with long ago after leaving your elementary school early had met back up with you, in the same grade and class.

High school had also been a nightmare, for the entire family because of your frequent mood swings, not to mention the never-ending drama and gossip surrounding the High Lord and Lady’s daughter and son. Nyx had been a Senior when you’d first gone in as a Freshmen.

Due to your generally quiet and reserved temperament, there was little dating from you to deal with, luckily, but Nyx had been a nightmare. The boy was a player, to say the least, not to mention how he made it his personal mission to annoy you to death anytime you were having sleepovers or hangouts with your closest friends.

“Get out…!”

You had half-yelled, half-whispered from inside your pillow fort, your friend quietly giggling beside you. It was midnight and Nyx still wouldn’t leave you alone. One hand swatted the blanket entrance to the side, and Nyx’s smirking face met yours as he then lay on the floor, chest down, legs playfully swinging.

“Don’t be shy, spill all the drama.”

He drawled, eyes dancing with amusement. Your friend giggled, hiding behind you, apparently finding your brother incredibly funny. Annoyingly funny.

“I’ll call Cassian.”

You threatened, giving Nyx a look. He simply raised a brow, smirk widening.

“You wouldn’t dare interrupt his beauty sleep, would you?”

You huffed, the knowledge that Cassian was asleep this early making you not want to wake him. You were always like that, worrying about others, and caring for them. Suddenly, an idea hit you, and a small smile curled on your lips, one that seemed to make Nyx nervous as his eyes widened.

“Don’t even-“

He got that far before you called out for Azriel, his shadows most likely carrying the yelled whispers out to him, and in a moment he was there, oddly quick for your call. He took one look at the pillow fort, the scent of you and your friend inside, and Nyx’s intrusion, and grabbed him, carrying him easily out of the room and nodding at your giggled thanks.

From then on, something seemed to shift between you and your shadowsinger.

The way he looked at you had changed, but it wasn’t overly obvious. Nothing had been added, it was still respectful as ever, even when he’d spied your prom dress, or your graduation dress, a beautiful mixture of light and airy but still tight in the right places, fabric cascading down your body in shades of rich purples, highlights of a gentle yellow reflecting the glow of the stars amidst a dark skylight.

That dress had nearly brought him to his knees. It had been one of the many that Rhysand’s mother had made before her death.

Still, he’d never let his gaze linger, never had a hint of anything darker or longing in his hazel eyes, but something had changed. The familial connection you had with him seemed to have fallen more into that of a friend, or almost an authority figure, but not quite. What it was, you couldn’t ever figure out.

However, the Cauldron had its own plans, ones that nobody in the family could’ve expected.

*********************************************************

It had been the night of Starfall, coincidentally only a few days after your eighteenth birthday. Rhys always liked to tease you, saying if you’d only waited a few more days then you could’ve shared your special day with one of the most special days of the year in Night Court.

Azriel had taken extra time to get ready for tonight, dressing himself comfortably, but also regally. It wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t too little. He liked teetering on the balance between the two, it often let him blend into the background while his brothers enjoyed their mates.

When he arrived, he’d first seen Nyx slip off into a dance with another woman of Night Court, not too uncommon for the male at these parties.

Nesta danced with Cassian, playfully teasing him about something as he laughed and retorted, all the while Feyre and Rhys slowly danced between sipping on glasses of wine, content to bask in this moment together.

Family dances weren’t uncommon, which was why you didn’t think much of it when Azriel offered you his hand for a dance. It was almost a habit at this point, as you two ended up lumped together now since everyone else seemed to have found their happy ending.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but leave her alone.”

Rhysand had told him. And he had left Elain alone.

Now, weeks, months, and years later, Elain was happy with Lucien, basking in his warmth and domesticity as they both shared a home in Day Court, Lucien now the proclaimed heir of Helion after his heritage was discovered and revealed.

Mor was still “single”, but Azriel knew better, with the way she still gave eyes to that one waitress at Rita’s who always touched and looked at her longer than necessary. That was Mor’s decision on whether to reveal it to the family or not, and he understood it.

Nyx was still…hopping from female to female, happy with the cheap thrills the Night Court ladies could give him. According to his shadows, the boy had recently caught the eyes of a specific girl, his usual pattern of getting bored and moving on crumbling in the face of her.

However, it was just you and Azriel, surrounded by mated couples and lovers as he gently pulled you closer to him, hands intertwining with his with a practiced ease, while you both began a slow, gentle dance to the rhythm of the music. Your eyes were on the stars, the ones which your father had always told you were spirits migrating, or traveling on this day in particular, for whatever reason.

His eyes were on you, watching as your deep blue eyes, freckled with what looked like stars amidst an aurora haze observed the night sky. No matter how many times you saw it, it always seemed to amaze you. Something he was a bit jealous of.

Your black hair, midnight as your father’s, fell in waves against your tanned skin, a fair mixture between your mother and father. The dark wings, courtesy of your father, were tucked neatly in on your back, as they usually were during events like these, though they slowly relaxed as you got lost in the music and cool atmosphere of this night.

It was then that it had happened.

You had turned to look at him, blue eyes full of the quiet appreciation and confidence that mirrored his own in some ways, meeting his dark hazel ones, that sparks seemed to fly in both of your veins.

His eyes widened, something you had seldom seen before. The shadows around him tightened, agitated, before going to your side and some wrapping around you, their whispered touches cold against your warm skin.

Both of your feet faltered, hands that were intertwined loosening, but staying together. It was only the two of you in that moment, everything else seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

That was what he had been to you, never an uncle like Cassian, never a full authority figure, not a friend, but your mate.

The realization of what had just happened hit like a brick. You and Azriel were mates. It had taken your father almost five centuries to find his mate, the same for Cassian, and you were lucky enough to find him this early in life. You mentally wrapped tender hands around the golden thread in your chest, tying you both together, and very hesitantly pulled on it.

Based on the way he jerked and twitched, before pulling on his end, making you do the same thing, colliding with his chest with a small ‘oomph’, confirmed everything for the both of you.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, watching painfully close for any tiny sign of fear, pain, anger…, anything he didn’t want to cause. You could only wrap your arms around him in return, too enamored with the male in front of you to care about the two of you embracing like lovers at Starfall, for all to see.

They could see, you didn’t mind.

*********************************************************

From the moment the bond had snapped, and overwhelming heat and affection had flooded his being, Azriel knew he was fucked.

Wrapping his arms around you felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced, filling that empty, hollow space inside of him. It felt as if you were melting into him, slowly filling every hole, sealing every crack and crevice, except for the one thing left; accepting it.

He would die before putting pressure on you. You would accept it when you were ready. Even then, as much as he hated the thought of Rhys throwing around his status again, he knew he had to do this carefully or he could very well be banned from seeing you until you were deemed ‘ready’.

Even now Rhys was watching, eyes narrowing in what looked like curiosity as he watched the scene before him, his daughter and shadowsinger, both reserved, slightly shy people, openly embracing and seeming utterly lost in each other. If that hadn’t given it away, then the tears that seemed to well up in Azriel’s eyes, and the ones already running down your cheeks, did.

He murmured something quietly to Feyre, slipping off with an apologetic glance as he walked quickly over to you, trying to gently pull you into his arms. That always worked. To his surprise, you clung to Azriel like he was a lifeline, turning to him, crying silently as you sniffled.

His first urge was to slaughter Azriel for whatever he’d done to upset you, but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

“What’s-?”

He began to ask, before meeting Azriel’s gaze. His eyes were welled with what looked like tears, pure desperation and pleading so strong in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before from his Spymaster.

“We’re mates.”

The two words were almost a whisper, but as soon as he heard it, his heart nearly stopped. From the way you clung to Azriel, he could tell that you probably wouldn’t reject the bond whatsoever, and the way Azriel held you, his touch desperate but also so loving and gentle, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and separate you two.

His hand went to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment, before his eyes went to you again, then glancing up at Azriel, a silent question in his gaze.

‘Can you control yourself around her?’

Azriel seemed almost relieved at that, nodding almost imperceptibly. He had amazing control over himself, Rhys knew that about him, but with a mate, and his daughter at that? He was anxious, which wasn’t common for the High Lord. With a sigh, he spoke again.

“Have fun, but don’t rush anything. We can talk through this in the morning.”

Your father said, another sharp glance at Azriel, before he returned to Feyre’s side, no doubt informing her on what had happened. His violet eyes burned into the two of you all night as you danced and laughed and Azriel even managed to get you to take a little sip of wine, at which you deemed it “gross” and poured it out.

The night didn’t last nearly long enough, as Azriel finally escorted you back to your room, embracing you one last time in a way that made him feel complete, before leaning down and murmuring into your ear.

“Sleep well. We have plenty to do tomorrow.”

The tips of your ears turned pink at the implication, but he was gone before you could even get a word in. You reluctantly crawled into bed, trying to get at least a wink of sleep in, and barely succeeding.

*********************************************************

The next morning was a bit awkward, not to mention nerve-wracking.

Your parents looked worried, and your father seemed a bit stern, unusual for him this early in the morning. Azriel was already seated on the couch, scarred fingers twitching as they drummed against his thigh when you walked in, sitting right next to him.

His wing curled instinctively around you, with him not giving a damn about what Rhys or Feyre thought of it.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys turned to face you, meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

You replied, not an inch of hesitation or uncertainty in your usually quiet tone. Gods, you wanted to accept the bond, all you needed was for your parents to give their permission, and hopefully approve of it.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, studying you and Azriel, before softening. His little girl was all grown up, and it was unfair to try and pull rank or any other bullshit to keep her from her mate, or to keep Azriel from his equal.

“You can use the cabin, I’ll…be checking on you.”

He said, voice rough with emotion. Azriel nodded, a silent thanks before his hands gently pulled you onto his lap. In a swirl of darkness and shadows, you were both sitting on the couch of the cabin in Illyria, your mother’s paintings still bright and fresh in the warm cabin.

“You know what to do, right?”

He asked, the words quiet but affectionate.

You gave a little nod. Offer him food. That was pretty much it.

“I’ll just go get an apple or something. Also, could you start the fire? It’s freezing.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and deep, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and reluctantly getting up to go light the wood in the fireplace.

You walked over into the kitchen, pulling a fresh apple from what looked to be a fruit bowl, before eagerly chopping it up into pieces with a knife. You could hear the fire crackling before you saw it, walking back in to meet Azriel in the living room where he stood patiently.

You offered him a slice of the apple, already chewing your own, and he smiled softly, accepting it with a quiet,

“Thank you.”

Before popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring it while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. You felt the bond split open, all sorts of feelings and thoughts both coming from your mind and coming from his, flooding your brain.

You didn’t try to filter your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they got. He got to have all of you. He seemed to feel the same way.

It was so quick that you barely even noticed him moving, but in a matter of moments and the swirling of shadows, you were both on the bed in a room, his lips moving eagerly against yours as his body slotted into place above you and between your legs. His tongue nudged at your lips, before slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours, the lingering taste of the apple still there.

Your hips began slowly grinding against his clothes cock, already feeling it through his pants and how it throbbed. You could’ve sworn you even felt a pulse.

He let out a guttural groan at that, only pulling away from your mouth to breathe, taking in hot, heavy pants that had your pussy drooling. Whether he felt it through the bond or smelled your arousal, you could see his eyes widen and nostrils flare, before his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Az, please-“

You whined, already needing more of him. You needed more than friction, you needed touching and contact. He only nodded and began pulling your dress off, surprisingly carefully, his limbs trembling with restraint.

“I know, sweet girl.”

His shirt and pants were soon to go, and his boxers were then tossed to the floor. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock, long and thick as it was, the tip was an angry red and leaking, as soon as it was released it slapped against his stomach. He caught you staring, seeing the slight fear and hesitation in your gaze.

“Are you sure that’s going to..fit?”

You asked, voice more timid and meek than you wanted it to be. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor while his hands began rubbing your tender breasts, kneading them and rubbing your pert nipples between his thumb and finger.

He chuckled lowly at your question.

“It will, I promise. I’m going to use my fingers first to stretch you a bit if that's alright?”

He asked, one finger brushing gently through your folds as he bit his tongue, trying to keep groaning at how wet you already were. Barely any stimulation and you were already writhing under him. So sensitive it was adorable. As much as he wanted to take his time and drag this out, to make you beg and plead until you were a mess, he didn’t have the patience, not now.

You nodded.

“Please.”

The word slipped from between your lips before you could even think, already whimpering as one finger gently began slipping into you. He marveled at how tight you were, thoughts already wandering as his fingers began curling, thumb massaging your clit. As you moaned and cried out, legs already trembling and trying to close, he held them open, settling between them as another finger was scissored into your cunt.

A white, hot heat had begun building in your body before you could begin to process what was happening, moans spilling from your lips like water flowing from a waterfall. More fingers slipped in, his thumb still running circles with just the right amount of pleasure on your clit.

It was too much.

“Az- Az, please, I’m gonna-“

And then it felt like everything exploded.

He watched you fall apart around his fingers, the three of them working in tandem, curling against that spongy spit in your walls as his thumb worked your clit sinfully good. His cock was aching as he tried rubbing it against your leg for at least some friction, which didn’t succeed.

“It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re doing perfect for me, okay?”

He murmured to you, slowly watching as you came down from your high, thighs trembling, tears already drying. Your body wanted more. The frenzy demanded more.

One of your hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, at which he curiously watched. You whined, glancing at his cock and gesturing to it.

“Words, honey. What do you want?”

He asked gently, looking down at you with enough affectionate lust to make you melt on sight as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your cock. Want it inside.”

You mumbled, cheeks flushed red as you sniffled, giving him a pleading gaze he couldn’t do anything but give in to as he leaned forward, hovering just above your body, his arms braced on his elbows on either side of your head after he’d lined himself up with your entrance.

“Just take a deep breath for me and relax, sweet girl.”

He spoke softly to you, taking a deep breath of his own before nudging the tip in, slowly letting inch after inch go in, watching your expression for any hint of pain and slowing down at any sign of it.

Your face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips bucking up as you gasped at him being pushed deeper, his raw groaning an easy answer to it.

“Cauldron, you’re big.”

You whined against the skin of his chest, nose buried in the nook of his shoulder. He let out a strained laugh, not at you, but at your words.

“I take great pride in it.”

He teased back, before letting out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out.

“Need a minute, hold on-“

You said, breathless as you tried to adjust to the feeling of Azriel splitting you open. You’d never felt anything this big in you before, only having the liberty of your fingers or occasionally a toy doing the trick. He was nestled so deep that it felt like he could easily rearrange your organs if he wanted to.

“Tell me when,”

He managed to say back, every muscle in his sculpted body taught as he held back, that was, until, you began rocking your hips into his after a few minutes longer. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he, Azriel, Spymaster of Night Court, let out the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard as he began slowly pumping in and out.

“I’m not going to last,”

He rasped, and after a few minutes he was already about to fall apart completely, the feeling of your- his mate’s tight heat squeezing his cock like a vice grip, had him so, so close already. You managed a loose, breathy laugh.

“Me neither,”

You got out, the pleasure from earlier already building again into a giant wave, your sensitivity now threatening to overtake you as the world turned into a blur of movement, colors, and shadows. Whether by his command or their own free will, you felt the cold tendrils wind around your clit, circling and rubbing while others gave attention to your pert nipples.

What was really your undoing was when some began playing with your wings, stroking right over the insanely sensitive spot that had you arching and writhing beneath Azriel, moans and cries and sobs of pleasure echoing through the room.

As soon as your pussy fluttered around him and clenched, it fully succeeded in milking him of his cum as he came in thick spurts, bucking his hips wildly into you with a groan. It was only after that, that he settled ever so gently on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

The sounds of panting were the only ones for a few minutes before your bodes began screaming for more, more, more…

“Again.”

Part 2

[saltwaterburns]

I walked with you once upon a dream

warnings: astronomically large usage of the word "laugh", "whine" and "blush". not proofread ?? kinda ?? found this in my notes #fuckitweball

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

a/n: Part 2? 😊

The night had been unforgiving on you. You tossed and turned under your blanket, the wooly cover being too thick at one point and too thin at another. Every time you closed your eyes, they rolled back uncomfortably and as soon as you somehow managed to get somewhat comfortable, a song your friend had been singing the day began to play on loop in your mind, haunting you.

Finally, you somehow managed to succumb into a half awake half asleep state, but it seemed like Merlin wasn't done with you just yet.

Your mind was plagued by at least three different dreams, each one stranger than the last. War, pregnancy, the muggle movie Avatar all made a fashionable appearance, and thats why currently you're sat at the Hufflepuff table, your hair nearly not neat enough as you'd like it to be, your eyelids swollen and heavy, your under eyes tinted purple.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Cedric chirps happily as he slides into the seat next to you, his plate filled with his usual breakfast: toast and some grapes. Usually, you'd greet him right back, giving him a tight hug before discussing over both of your classes for the day, whining over the homework.

Today isn't an usual day, though. You manage to give him a small smile, weak enough to be called a grimace, even. His face is instantly taken over by a frown, his hand placed upon your forehead.

"Are you well, love? Did you manage to catch a bug of sorts?" He says, his worried expression reminding you of a mother hen. You can't help but let out a soft laugh at the thought, his worry replaced by an eye roll.

"Laughin' at me, are you now? Pffft, and to think I was worried," he huffs like a first year, offering you a glare. You've always been exceptionally good at reading people's eyes, though, so you see through his act instantly, the playful glint giving it away.

"No, mother hen Cedric. I'm fine, I just kept tossing and turning alllllll night," you giggle, the lovely sound turning into a groan halfway through. You cover your face with your hands, rubbing slow circles over your eyelids, the colourful shapes of all sizes giving you little relief.

Cedric starts going off about how you need to sleep earlier, get those very much needed 8 hours but you tune him out (like always), looking around the Great Hall instead. Most people are groggy while eating their breakfast, leaning their heads on their friends' shoulders, lids half shut.

Your eyes unconsciously drift over to the Slytherin table, curiously taking a peek at their expressions. People are wary of them, everyone knows that. Their mean faces and cold eyes leave little to the imagination, making most people grasp their wands tighter whenever walking past them.

You know better. You see better. You see their faces; their eyes bright and shining, their mouth's pulled into smiles despite the early morning hours, laughter echoing from all around the long table. It brings a smile to your face. You've always been fond of them, to everyone's surprise. You've managed to make quite a few surprising friends, too. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theodore.

Theodore Nott. You say his name with a dreamy sigh even in your thoughts. He's sole reason your heart skips a few beats whenever you're looking over at their table, the sole reason you check your lipstick and mascara before hanging out with them, the sole reason you've bought a new, ridiculously overpriced perfume to spray on whenever you know he'll be near.

Most would call this a silly little crush, but you swear on Merlin's beard you're in love. You're completely infatuated with that dark haired boy. He's fascinating, only speaking a few words every so often to express his opinion. He's not shy, by all means. You're smart enough to realise that. He observes, not interrupting unless necessary. You're pretty sure you've seen him smile only once. That was the day you learned the Italian boy had dimples. You haven't stopped thinking about them since.

You like to think that the rare sight called Theo Nott's smile was most of the time, directed at you. The first time you caught a glimpse of one you were walking by the shore of the Black Lake alongside him, the sun setting in the distance, casting gorgeous golden hues all over the place. You rambled on about your day, this particular one having been extremely exhausting, more so than usual.

You're not really sure what made him crack one of those precious smiles, but you suppose it was a joke about your misery. Seeing him like this, it made your heart skip a few beats. The rest of the walk continued in silence, but you wouldn't have had it any other way. You wouldn't have been able to stop yourself from declaring all of your bottled up feelings to him.

Most of your walks happened in comfortable silence, but you preferred that. You liked how with him, you could just, be. Exist, without a need for a meaning. After a long day, you didn't have to force a smile to your face. You could just appear in the Slytherin common room and ask for him to come and walk. He'd always come with you, without a single utter of complaint. You'd walk with him, ask for a few puffs from his cigarette, complaining when he'd shake his head, telling you how the sunshine girl of Hogwarts could in no way be caught smoking with Theodore Nott.

Youre shaken out of your daydreams as your eyes land on a pair of grey ones. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you pray to Helga up there that he can't see it from that far across the room. You offer him a warm smile and your heart skips a beat (or two) as you see him biting his cheek to hold back a one of his own.

A little smirk still comes through and it makes you grip the table from giddiness, butterflies swarming all around the inside of your stomach. You smile even brighter and somehow manage to tear your gaze away, trying to focus on Cedric's rambling.

".....You're not listening, are you?" He deadpans, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. You don't say anything, just offer him a sweet smile and press a kiss to his cheek before standing up and making your way back to your dorms to grab your books for the day.

First class of the day is divination. You don't think there's ever been a class that makes your eyelids heavier than that. Maybe you'll get to catch up on some of the lost sleep?

The bells rings, indicating the start of the first class. Students scurry off into different classrooms, but you're still quite far from yours.

"Shit, fuck fuck fuck," you curse softly, quickening your step. You grip your books closely against your chest and make a run for it, the sound of your shoes hitting the marble floor echoing across the massive hallway.

You burst through the trapdoor, panting softly from having to climb the ladder with your books in your hands, cutting off professor Trelawney in the middle of explaining today's lesson. She sighs and shakes her head, making you smile sheepishly at her. Hushed apologies spill from your mouth as you make your way to your usual seat in the back of the classroom but you're caught off guard as its taken already. Well, almost taken.

One of the seats seems to be unoccupied, but the other is supporting a very, very good looking Slytherin.

"Theo," you breathe out in surprise, cheeks flushing. You look at the free chair, then back at him. "Is it, is it okay if I sit here? I'm usually alone back here. Didn't expect for you to make an appearance."

He nods curtly and you thank him with a little smile, dropping your books on the desk. You sit down and try to tune yourself into Trelawney's teaching, but the heat radiating from Theo and his addictive scent are clouding your senses.

"Now, for the practical part. You are to be paired up with the person next to you. Tell each other about the dream you had tonight and search for the meaning in your books. You've got half an hour for the task."

That certainly snapped you out of your thoughts. You hear a cough next to you and you turn to face him, rolling your eyes playfully as he motions for you to start.

"Well, I don't even know where to start. I could not fall asleep, no matter what i did. When i finally managed to pass out after 5 hours of tossing and turning, i had this weird dream about snakes wanting to kill me." You start, grimacing as you begin to remember. You grab a quill and write a few keywords to the parchment in front of you.

You look back up at him to ask about his dreams but instead, you find Theodore Nott quietly chuckling to himself.

"Stop laughing, you bloke! I've had weird dreams ever since i was a kid!" You try and defend yourself, opening your book to try make sense of at least some aspect of the psychedelic visions. "What about you, though? What did you see?"

He hums in though, chewing on his inner cheek. "I saw me and you on a date at Hogsmeade."

That definitely catches you off guard. "....you what? Actually?

"Yes, actually," he chuckles, shaking his head, looking up at you. "I'm not making this up, i swear!" He adds, raising his hands in defence.

You cant help but laugh, writing that down as well.

"...we could make it a reality. If you're up tor it?" You murmur softly after a few seconds, pretty sure you're on the verge of passing out at any second. You keep your gaze down, not daring to look up. Not wanting to see his grey eyes sparkle with amusement for suggesting something so silly.

"Sure. Three Broomsticks, Saturday, eleven o'clock?" He inquires, and you barely have time to nod in agreement before the bell rings yet again. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your cheek, his signature lazy smirk painted onto his face before he mutters a simple goodbye, literally disappearing into thin air.

You sit still for a good few minutes as the classroom empties out, your hand hovering over the spot that his lips touched, a faint smile adoring your face. Holy fuck.

[juniperdugong]

How NOT to Summon a Demon

Pairing: demon!Sukuna x GN!reader (reader is in college) Genre: Fluff CW: Swearing WC: 872

Day 8 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Hey at least my other two today were drabbles... ANYWAYS! Anyone up for domestic demon tutor Sukua AU tonight!! Hell yeah!

"I don't know how this happened..." You sat kneeling as you furiously scrambled to skim over pages and pages of text. Texts that you were sure you memorized to a tee but obviously... something went wrong somewhere along the way - Because instead of a silly little imp meant to help you with homework, you had a hulking man triple your size staring down at you.

"Yeah, well I'm here now and you've disturbed my peace." The man gruffs, grabbing at the book in your hand and examining it, "You screwed up."

"I know. Obviously, I know." You're scratching your head trying to think of something - anything - that would make this better. "What do I do? Send you back? How?"

"Nope. Can't be sent back till whatever you made a deal for is done..." Tossing the book aside the monster of a man took residence on your bed, making himself comfortable as you grew more and more uncomfortable with the situation; The bed squeaked and groaned with the sudden unknown weight.

"Oh- I wanted or- The deal I was trying to make was for help with my homework..." You sheepishly fold, now embarrassed as you hear the ridiculous words come out of your mouth - Who the hell tries to summon a demon to take care of something as simple as homework? And why the heck would a spell meant to do that summon this beast of a demon who obviously has more practice in killing than mathematics?

"Homework? Ha!" He picks himself up and grunts like an old man as he sits at the edge of the bed, "That's so stupid. You couldn't have made a deal to- I don't know. Become top of your class or graduate early of something?"

"I didn't have the foresight to make those types of deals..."

"Woah a dumbass like you can use big words like 'foresight'"

"Hey! That's mean." You snap back at him.

"I'm a literal demon... I don't know what you expected, babe." The use of a nickname throws you for a loop and your face gets warmer with the sudden casual talk between you two. You hear a deep chuckle come from the demon seeing your reaction.

He rubs his hands together and black dust begins to accumulate, with a simple snap a pair of glasses fit for himself apparates from nothing. "What are you doing then? Sit in your chair." He gestures towards your desk.

"What?" You do as he says out of fear but with confusion written all over your face.

"What do you mean 'what?', brat." He lurches forward and sits on the floor next to you, large enough that he sits at nearly the same height as you in your desk chair. "What are we doing first? Science, math, or English?"

---

The next few days become oddly comfortable with the presence of a demon. Thankfully, no one was able to see him other than you unless he wanted them to. Did this lead to many instances of him practically stalking you or appearing out of nowhere? Yes... but even these became common occurrences - Ones that you didn't really mind as long as you were getting your grades up.

It's only when the semester comes to a close and you and (who you learned to call) Sukuna are much more friendly than a person oughta be with a demon that you begin to wonder...

"Sukuna?"

"What, brat?" Sukuna mumbles, words slightly muffled as he nuzzles closer to your neck. You're both cuddled snuggly into each other. A light blanket draped over you because Sukuna's warmth was more than enough to keep the winter cold at bay.

"Why aren't you gone?" There's a pregnant pause as he takes in what you just said and you giggle as he suddenly manhandles you to face towards him - A furious look on his face (even more so than usual) that screws up into confusion.

"What? You want me gone?" He's stern and you can detect just a hint of sadness and distress coming from him as his thoughts race.

"No. I mean-" And you do your best to wrap your arms around him and bring him in close... Only able to pull yourself closer to his unmoving form in the process, "You said you'd be sent back once the deal is up. My grades are up and my school work is done, so I'm just wondering-"

Looking up you see the rarest of sights - a slight blush on Sukuna's face as you remember his words from so long ago. "Kuna?"

"What?-" He comes back to his senses, bringing you into a tight hug and smothering you with his chest so you wouldn't see the face of the demon go red from embarrassment. "You're so stupid that you probably wouldn't be able to live without me... so I decided to stay."

"Yof cam do dat?" (You can do that?) Your voice is completely muffled as he overpowers you.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm a fucking demon, babe."

And you're not sure if you're comforted by his words but you're kinda glad that you got this guy instead of some whimpy imp.

A/N: And just like that I'm caught up lol. I'm obsessed with soft Sukuna, sorry not sorry. My JJk "drabbles" always end up being ficlets and I have no qualms about that.

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[mystic-writings]

out like a light | steve harrington

PAIRING — steve harrington x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you and steve have been living a happy, simple life in hawkins. the return of an old friend flips everything on its head.

WARNINGS — angst, verbal arguments, cheating, steve and reader are married

WORD COUNT — 2,856

NOTES — loosely inspired by 'out like a light 2' by ricky montgomery

masterlist | navigation

Steve Harrington was all yours. 

It started out as a silly promise, a quiet whisper between lips and sheets in the early days of your relationship. But it was a promise nonetheless, and Steve intended to keep it for as long as you would let him. 

You seemed to have one of those picture perfect relationships; one that everyone envied, even if the path that led you there was anything but. It took time to get to where you were, and a lot of pain. Effort. But it was worth the heartache, the uncertainty. Because you were happy. 

According to the social class guidelines of your high school career, you and Steve even being friends with each other was something nearly unthinkable. But neither of you could care too much about something as stupid as that — your relationship meant too much. You’d been through too much together. 

And, somehow, through the nights spent singing to Queen on the radio and driving along the long abandoned Hawkins roads, you fell in love with Steve Harrington. And he fell in love with you, too. 

Your relationship didn’t go without its trials and tribulations. You weren’t that lucky. 

The first big fight you could remember happened right after your high school graduation. There was no forgetting it; it was the first time you’d ever told him you loved him. 

“Why are you being so ridiculous, Steve?!” You shouted, standing with a heaving chest in his parent’s living room. You’d been shouting at each other for an hour, now. Maybe longer. Steve’s parents weren’t home, so you didn’t mind being so loud. Then again, they never were. “You’re not even listening to me!” 

“I’m not being ridiculous, here! I’m just—” he huffed, carding his fingers through his hair. “You’re going off to college in two months and I’m staying here, I just don’t think it’ll work out.” 

You felt like your lungs were robbed of air. “Don’t say that.” You pleaded, eyes brimming with sudden tears. “You don’t get to decide that. It’s not fair.” 

“You deserve better.” Steve decided. “A lot better than me.” 

“And what makes you think that, Steve? What, because you didn’t get into any colleges?” Your voice was soaked in emotion, and you didn’t have the energy to try to hide it from him. You didn’t want to. “You can try again next year, you know. With Robin. Save your money and just try again.” 

Steve seemed to deflate at your words, but you weren’t done. 

Taking a hesitant step closer, you began to close the gap between you, words trembling on the tip of your tongue. “I love you, Steve Harrington. Nothing is going to change that. I’m all yours. No one else’s. I don’t want to be, baby.” 

“Don’t,” Steve nearly begged. His heart swelled at your words, almost unbearably so, a terrifying reminder of why he was doing this. “I don’t want to hold you back.” 

“From what?” You asked, voice a mere whisper. “What could you possibly hold me back from?”

Steve sighed, his head dropping. He could barely stand to look at you; at the pain he was causing you. Your red rimmed eyes searched for his, and his resolve almost crumbled. The sinister voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was for the best. The calming one told him to hear you out. 

“From a life away from here, from Hawkins.” Steve said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I’m just— I’ll always be the reminder of this town. Of the things we’ve been through. And I know how much it all hurt you. I don’t want to do that to you.” 

“If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s that, Steve,” you told him, taking another step forward. “If anything, you’re my reminder that there’s still good in this place. You help me forget.” 

A strangled sob slipped from Steve’s lips, and you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve’s head fell into the crook of your neck as one of your hands cupped the back of his head, your lips pressing gentle kisses to his hair. 

“I love you,” he whispered, grabbing your sweater by the fistful. 

You sighed, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I love you, too.” 

Being high school sweethearts and making it through college was a feat you didn’t think most people could achieve. But you and Steve had been so in love that somehow, someway, you did. The thought that you couldn’t never even crossed your mind. 

All of the friends you made through college all said the same thing — you were made for each other. Soulmates. The perfect couple. 

A perfect picture of love and happiness. 

Eventually, after that first fight, Steve had proved you right. He and Robin attended college together, graduating the year after you did. You never once doubted his ability to do what he wanted in life. 

You built a life for yourselves together. Steve began working for his dad, with a higher title than he could’ve ever gotten without a degree. You put your knowledge to use, working with the freshmen at Hawkins High. Even if Steve had wanted a life for you outside of the town, you didn’t mind staying. You’d go anywhere if it meant you were with Steve. 

He proposed Christmas after his college graduation. You got married two springs later, and moved into a brand-new, red brick house with four bedrooms — enough room to start a family. 

It was the simplest of lives, but you relished every single day of it. If it meant that there were no more monsters crawling out from the depths of hell to try and kill you, you would enjoy every single day. 

But it seemed that Steve didn’t want the life you did anymore. 

You should’ve seen the signs earlier. After being married for half a decade, and together for almost twice that time, you should’ve seen it when Steve first began pulling away from you. 

Nights spent late at the office, leaving you to eat dinner alone. Business trip after business trip, where Steve barely made the effort to call before bed. The declining amount of date nights, both out and in the comfort of your home. Steve’s lack of enthusiasm to hear about your day, or to just spend time with you in general. The way that every conversation began with snipping remarks that eventually turned into meaningless shouting matches. 

It should’ve been no surprise when you found the root of it all. 

Nancy Wheeler moving back to Hawkins was a surprise. Though, she was by no means Nancy Wheeler anymore. She’d been Nancy Byers for just under four years when she and Jonathan came back to their hometown. 

You were eager to catch up with her when she moved back to town. She and Jonathan had been living in Boston ever since they graduated college — her degree coming from Emerson, and his from Quincy, a community college from what you’d heard. With them, they brought a one-year old boy, with eyes like his mother’s and a quiet demeanor like his father. Benji Byers, short for Benjamin. 

The couple seemed content to move back for their son’s sake, to live out the rest of their life in the quiet town, now no longer plagued by the horrors you’d experienced in your teenage years. You were just glad you had someone familiar to talk to again; Robin stayed in Chicago after college, and only really visited for the holidays, wherein she’d crash in your spare bedroom for a month with her girlfriend, Jess. You loved the company.

You spent a lot of spare time with Nancy, Jonathan, and Benji. They’d moved back to town around the time of year where Steve was away more often than he was home, and you couldn’t get enough of Benji. 

“Why don’t you and Steve don’t have kids yet?” Nancy had asked one day as you sat in her living room, a cooing Benji in your lap. You knew she had meant well, but the stutter in your heart and the hesitation before your response told her everything she needed to know. 

“We’re just not ready yet.” You said with a tight lipped smile. “Steve’s just so busy right now, and I think we’re still enjoying ourselves for now.” 

You just hoped your face didn’t show it as you relived the countless arguments over having kids that seemed to happen between you and Steve. Shouts of ‘I’m not ready’, always to be countered with your rebuttals of how much of a lie Steve’s words were. There was nothing you were more ready for than having a child. 

But it seemed Steve had his eye on something else. 

The Byers family moved back to Hawkins, and in less than a year, your marriage was nothing but a pile of rubble and shattered glass. 

The shuffling of feet and a clatter somewhere in the house roused you from your uncomfortable sleep. 

“Steve?” You mumbled from your place on the couch, voice raspy. 

An open book lay face down on your thigh, darkness drenching the space around you as your eyes adjusted. The last you remembered was flipping the page on your book, the clock reading quarter-past midnight, as you waited for Steve to get home safe. 

The shuffling stopped abruptly, and you stretched out your stiff limbs before closing the book and making your way to the kitchen, where light was spilling from the archway. Bleary-eyed, you glanced at the clock, almost unsurprised to find it reading twenty minutes to four. 

“Where were you?” You asked, finding Steve’s back to yours as he stood at the sink, hands gripping the counter. A bottle of whiskey and a half-full glass sat on the counter next to him. 

“Nowhere,” Steve said, knuckles turning white, head hanging low. “I, uh— I went to the bar with some of the guys, that’s all. Go to bed, I’ll be up in a minute.”

You sighed, shuffling into the room. “Steve,” you whispered. “Come with me. Please.”

Steve’s shoulders tensed beneath his crumpled button down, and it was now that you noticed the state he was in. Most of his outfit had been wrinkled, the sleeves haphazardly rolled halfway up his forearms. His hair was a mess, almost as though the gel he’d put in it that morning was never there in the first place. And the closer you looked, the easier you could see it. 

His hair was wet. 

You had known for a fact that it wasn’t going to rain tonight, mostly because you were planning to cook a barbeque dinner for yourself and Steve. 

The pieces seemed to click into place in an instant, and your blood ran cold. The thought of it made your stomach turn, your heart shattering in your chest, shards ripping and tearing at the skin of your soul. 

“Steve, where were you,” your tone was low, soaked in emotion. 

In an instant, Steve was turning to face you, anger twisting his face. “Jesus, I already told you! I was at the damn bar, Y/n!” 

You stepped back at Steve’s flailing limbs, horrified to find that the front of him looked no better than the back. 

The tie he’d put on that morning was no longer around his neck — in fact, it was missing altogether. The top five buttons on his shirt were undone, exposing the white tank top he wore underneath it. It also exposed the angry red marks that littered his chest and neck, forcing a strangled, quiet gasp from your throat like the last breath of air before you drowned beneath the weight of it all. 

“Who is she?” 

“What?” Steve hissed, following your eyes to his chest. His shoulders sagged, fingers fumbling to button his shirt, as if hiding the evidence of his infidelity would make you forget about it. “Y/n it’s not— don’t—” 

“Who is she?” You said, voice dripping with anger and pain. You could barely see your husband through the wall of tears building in your eyes, but you refused to take your eyes away from him. You would not break. 

Steve gnawed on his lip, heart racing. He knew he couldn’t lie to you, to his wife. 

“Nancy.” He spoke barely above a whisper, the name coming off his tongue like a bullet, aimed at your already shattered heart. 

The staggered breath that came from you made Steve’s chest fill with guilt. When he looked up, he found you staring at him, eyes tearful and cheeks stained with the ones that had already fallen. 

And yet, the response you gave was one he wasn’t expecting. 

“She’s a mother, Steve. How could you?” The more you thought about the entire situation, the more your sadness turned to rage. “She has a child! What did you think was going to happen, hmm?! You’d break up two marriages and ruin that poor boy’s life because— because, what, you got bored of me? That you’d raise someone else’s son because you couldn’t stand to think of having one with me?” 

As soon as the words slipped past your lips, it seemed the brief fire within you went with them. Your stomach turned at the thought, hands carding through your hair. “You… She has a son… Oh, God.” 

“Y/n—” Steve rushed forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You pushed your husband’s arm away from you, taking several steps back. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, Steve. I can’t believe you.” 

Turning on your heel, you rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Steve shouting your name as he followed after you. 

“Y/n, come on, let’s just talk about this,” 

You spun around in your bedroom doorway, chest heaving. “You want to talk about this?” You scoffed. “Why don’t we talk about the fact that every time I’ve brought up kids you said you didn’t want any yet! That you weren’t ready! Let’s talk about how I’ve spent the past four months— longer than that, even— trying to find a way to fix our marriage while you screwed your high school ex-girlfriend behind my back! About how you ruined two marriages because you couldn’t stand living a normal life!” 

“That’s not true!” Steve shouted back, following as you moved to grab a suitcase from the closet. “You know that isn’t true, Y/n!” 

“Yeah, right, it’s not true.” You admitted, stopping between where the suitcase sat open, empty on the bed, and where the dresser sat. “You wanted that life. The white, picket fence, Church on Sundays life. You just didn’t want it with me.” 

Steve stood in your bedroom — the room you shared, as husband and wife — dumbfounded and heartbroken at the sight of you. He had been the one to cause this hurt, and for what? To relive his teen years? To go back to the time that seemed to be the highlight of Steve’s life? 

His mind started back up again when he noticed the clothes you were packing into the suitcase. They were his. 

“What— Honey, what are you doing?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, shoving everything he owned into one of his suitcases. “And if you really want to know, I’m packing. Because if you really love Nancy that much, you can go sleep on her couch. I’m not sharing my bed or this house with a cheating asshole.” 

Steve’s chest deflated, struggling to catch another breath. “What?”

“You heard me. You made the choice to sleep with another woman. A married woman. Now deal with the consequences.” The zipping of the suitcase on the bed punctuated your words, and Steve watched, practically glued to the floor as you hauled it out of the room and into the hallway. 

It wasn’t until it thumped heavily down the stairs that Steve jumped, legs finally kicking back into gear. 

Your footsteps followed the tumbling suitcase. Steve watched from the top of the steps as you grabbed it, and he followed you as you moved to the front door, wrenching it open. 

“Y/n, Y/n, wait—” 

Steve was unable to stop you as you tossed it out onto the paved walkway, the suitcase skidding along the concrete as you turned to look back at him. 

“Get the hell out of my house.” 

Upon catching the look in your eye, the fury mixed with unimaginable despair, Steve knew there was nothing to be done to salvage your relationship. As he passed you by, Steve stopped at the threshold and whispered, “I’m sorry,” 

You didn’t acknowledge him as he walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. 

And with the click of the lock latching, and the metal door cooling your skin as you pressed your forehead against it, you let the dam break. Sobs wracked your body, shaking your bones as you slid to the floor, curling up against the front door. 

Steve Harrington had once promised that he was all yours. But promises get broken, and people, more often than not, turn out to be liars.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

steve harrington taglist: @theweasleyslut @starjane312 @the-romanian-is-bae @lillsxd @jemimah-b99 @heavcnslyre @xitsyaiizax @magicalxdaydream @timeladygallifrey @cadencebeat2662 @jamespotterslover @whoreou @mariecoded @suranne-doesstuff @hehehehannahthings @alexwritesthingssometimes @unic0rntaking0ver17645 @wecallhimbrowneyess @erospecies @pariahsparadise @alexxavicry @imabee-oralizard @bluesongbird @1-800-isabellapotter @ajordan2020 @g4ys0n @sunshine-daisies-library @tsaidelrey @moonlightsgirl

taglist form!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (1)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: One

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: You finally meet Wooyoung's father, and he isn't who you were expecting at all.

WC: 3.3k

CW: Mostly more plot/character development, but suggestive at the end (teasing, flirting). Wooyoung is a brat (no one is surprised), Seonghwa uses pet names on the reader (darling, dear, (little) doll)

AN: Ahhh, here we go, first official chapter! There's no smut just yet BUT the next chapter will be, promise! I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you submitted your final assignment for the semester. You flopped back onto your bed and laughed in relief, feeling your pulsing headache beginning to ebb away. 

The last day of the semester came way faster than you were prepared for. And you weren’t nearly as stressed as your normally would’ve been. 

Maybe because tonight, you and Wooyoung were leaving to go visit his dad. 

Wooyoung told you the next day after you asked that his father responded with an “enthusiastic yes,” and couldn’t wait to meet you. The last week of the semester flew by after that, and now you were here. 

You checked your phone, and you had thirty minutes before you had to meet up with Wooyoung before you started the drive back to his dad’s house. Thankfully, you’d packed most of your things the night before, so you spent your time double and triple checking everything, and collecting everything else you might need. 

And before you knew it, Wooyoung was texting you. 

Heyyyyy

I’m parked outside your dorm, I finished early

Did that essay kill you? 

Come onnnnn, we gotta go sooooooon

You ignored his texts until you were leaving the dorm. You got outside with your bags, being met with the early Winter weather. Cold air, a little bit of snow on the ground. Par for the course for northern November weather. 

Wooyoung got out of the car and helped you with your bags. “Did you bring your whole closet?” He asked as he put them into his trunk. 

“I had to, this is all I have.” 

“Oh, right. Well, you can borrow some of mine if you run out while we’re there.” 

You were going to be with Wooyoung and his dad, and maybe other family, until classes started again in January. A whole month away really was a small vacation, and you were ecstatic to be away from this building with your best friend. 

“Thanks, Wooyoung,” you said softly, hoping you wouldn’t have to bother him with borrowing his clothes. He smiled and motioned for you two to get in the car. 

And then you were off. It wasn’t a long trip, about a forty minute drive, but it felt way shorter to you. You were both incredibly relieved to be away from school, but also incredibly excited for what this Winter Break would hold. 

Your heart was pounding as Wooyoung entered his home town. He hadn’t told you much about where he grew up or where his dad lived, so when Wooyoung drove into a rich suburban neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of an extravagant house you were floored. 

The house was a minimalist, modern aesthetic. The colors were sharp and contrasted starkly, the windows were clear and clean, there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere.

“You didn’t tell me your dad was loaded,” you joked as Wooyoung turned off the car. But when you looked at him, he was nervous. You couldn’t really fathom why Wooyoung was nervous to be home, unless he himself didn’t want to see his father. 

But if Wooyoung didn’t want to see him, why did he bring you along? It didn’t make sense. 

“I need to tell you something about my dad before we go inside,” he started, looking down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them. You couldn’t help the numerous ridiculous thoughts that filled your head, trying to predict whatever Wooyoung was about to say. 

“My dad…” He was already hesitating and trailing off. Warning bells were going off inside your head. Wooyoung thought for a long while, before you could see him mentally make the decision to just rip the bandaid off. “My dad isn’t a masculine man. He prefers to dress like a woman.” 

And you sat stunned for a few seconds as to why your best friend thought this would be an issue for you. 

“Wooyoung, I’m sorry, but do you know me?” You asked. He looked up at you, and along with nervousness, guilt started creeping into his eyes. “I don’t care how your dad wants to dress or act, as long as he’s not an asshole.” 

You saw Wooyoung’s whole body relax, melting back into the car seat. He laughed softly. “Yeah, I don’t know why I was so nervous. I just didn’t want you to be surprised when we went inside to see him.” 

You nodded, and smiled encouragingly. He smiled back, and you both went to get out of the car. 

As you two were grabbing your respective bags, Wooyoung said “ah,” remembering something. “By the way, he prefers being called ‘mom’.”

“Are you sure your dad doesn’t have something to confess?” You said, half joking. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head. 

“No, no, it’s not like that. Believe me, I asked a couple years ago. He likes being a man, he just also likes looking feminine.” 

And then the nervous excitement bubbled up inside you as you both walked up the driveway, then the sidewalk, then the stairs to the front door. You could feel the mix of emotions clawing at your body from the inside out as Wooyoung struggled to grab the correct key. 

The excitement of meeting your best friend’s dad, along with the nervousness of wanting to impress him was making your stomach churn. But not in a way where you felt sick, your body just didn’t know how to calm down from everything. 

Wooyoung finally got the key out and unlocked the door. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and run away. 

You walked inside and were greeted to the inside of the house reflecting the outside. Modern, stark, clean, but with tasteful decorations scattered throughout. Some paintings, statues, plants, decorative lights. 

But all of that was second to the gorgeous man in front of you. 

Wooyoung’s father-or, mother, as he preferred-was sitting on a large, plush couch to the left of the door, watching a movie. He looked over the couch and smiled at the two of you. You forgot to smile back, because you were staring in awe of how someone could be this beautiful. 

You didn’t hear what he was saying as he stood up to greet you two, because you got a full view of him and all the air left you. 

He was wearing a long sleeved sparkly sweater dress that stretched down to his knees, with sheer tights underneath. His black hair was fluffy and fell freely around his perfect face, reaching down to his jawline. 

Oh, his eyes and smile made your knees weak. You could feel nervous tremors run up and down your thighs. 

What might’ve surprised you the most was his hourglass figure. He had tits, hips, and a tiny waist. 

Oh, what a Winter Break this was about to be. 

“Hey!” Wooyoung called, and you suddenly remembered you weren’t in a dream. Both men were looking at you, Wooyoung slightly annoyed, and his mother amused. “Eomma, this is my friend. This is my mom, Seonghwa.” 

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Seonghwa said, holding out his hand. You took his hand and tried to give the best handshake you could. His grip was firm, but delicate. Your eyes flicked down to look at his hands, and to your surprise, even his hands were feminine. 

“Thank you, it’s good to meet you too,” you babbled out, struggling to make sure your voice didn’t waver. Seonghwa smiled warmly as he pulled back, and he turned to Wooyoung to hug him tightly. Wooyoung struggled to return the hug with his bags on his arms, but he still managed to make it work. 

“Did you go out?” Wooyoung asked Seonghwa as he pulled back, looking over his mother’s outfit. “You’re all dressed up.” 

“No, but my son and his friend visiting me is reason enough to dress up.” 

You swear you could feel your head starting to get light. Wooyoung glanced at you, then back at his mother. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go unpack.” Wooyoung looked at you before continuing. “There’s a guest room close to mine, I’ll show you.” You nodded, and you two started for the stairs. 

“Don’t be too long!” Seonghwa called, “Dinner will be ready soon!” 

You felt your heart stutter at the mention of a home cooked meal for the first time since you couldn’t remember when. 

Wooyoung brought you down the hallway, turned to the right, and stopped at the end. “This room on the far end is the master room. Belongs to my mom, obviously.” Wooyoung waved his arms around to express his point, then motioned to the door on the left side of the hall, the one he was in front of. “This one is the guest room, and the one on the other side by the corner is mine.” He pointed to the door all the way down the hall. 

You nodded, your eyes betraying you and drifting to Seonghwa’s bedroom door. The forbidden room, your brain was telling you. You had no reason to go in there, but the idea of going beyond it- 

“Okay, dude, I can see that you were checking out my mom, okay?” Wooyoung blurts, making you whip your head back to him. You’d hoped you didn’t look as obvious as you felt, and your worst fear came true. 

If Wooyoung saw it, so did Seonghwa, and the mortification slowly took over your body as you felt your face burn hot. 

Your first instinct was to apologize, but you stopped yourself. All possible words left you, and you just stared at Wooyoung with fear and embarrassment all over your face. Wooyoung sighed and shook his head. 

“We’ll talk about this later, go unpack your stuff. Wait until I come get you.” And with that, he walked off to his room and disappeared into it. 

You didn’t even get to appreciate the gorgeous room you got to stay in, because you were too consumed with guilt to properly look over it. It was large, lavish, and comfortable, but you felt awful as you started unpacking. 

You were drooling all over your best friend’s mom the second you walked in the door. You couldn’t help yourself from feeling awful the entire time you put your luggage away. 

You jumped a whole foot in the air when you heard a knock on the door. The door creaked open and Wooyoung peeked inside. You were just finishing up as he came into the room, and you felt simultaneous relief and dread. 

Before you could stop it, words began tumbling out of your mouth. “Look Woo, I’m sorry, I know it was insanely disrespectful of me to act that way in front of your mom, I should’ve acted better and I-” 

“Woah, slow down,” Wooyoung said, holding his hands up. You stopped and swallowed back the rest of the words you thought of saying. You realized then that Wooyoung didn’t look upset anymore. In fact, he looked resigned. “I’m not mad. I think I was just protective.” He looked away for a second before he looked back at you. “I didn’t want you to think of my mom as some kind of porn character.”

“No, never!” You immediately blurted. 

“I know you’re not like that, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.” You could see in Wooyoung’s eyes, he felt remorseful. You found it a little weird, because he was justified in being upset. “People have done it in the past, he thinks he found a partner, and it turns out they liked the idea of having him as a personal porn star object, nothing more.”

The fact that such a revelation didn’t surprise you made you doubly upset. 

“So, I guess, what I’m saying is,” he started, and then sighed again. “I mean, if you fuck, just don’t tell me about it.” 

The bluntness of his request makes you choke, and you can feel your face instantly burn hot. Wooyoung finally breaks and laughs, and his laugh makes you laugh. 

You really were lucky to have an amazing friend. Not because he just gave you permission to fuck his mom, but that you could have proper conversations about issues and settle them like the adults you were. 

Then again, you both clearly still acted like teenagers, but it was like a wise man once said: There’s a time and place for everything. 

The three of you were sitting around the small dining table in the kitchen, enjoying the dinner Seonghwa had made for you all. Despite saying that it was a “small” table, there was still tons of space left over. You could fit much more food and people at this “small” dining table with how much space there was. 

The food was delicious. Half because Seonghwa was clearly a skilled cook, and half because you hadn’t eaten anything made with love in so long. The fact that it was made with love and care put into it made it taste stellar. 

“So,” Seonghwa started, looking over at you. “Why are you spending your break with us?” 

You expected this question. You’d rehearsed it a million times over. 

“I don’t talk to my parents, and the rest of my family already has plans this year.” It was the truth, but it didn’t give away too much information. Seonghwa gave you a sympathetic look with a slight pout. He must’ve realized you didn’t wanna talk about it more than that, because he didn’t push for you to explain more. 

“Well, I’m happy to have you.” You smiled and said a soft “thank you” before taking another bite of food. “You’re welcome.” 

You expected Wooyoung to be rolling his eyes with every look you gave Seonghwa, and to be annoyed with how permanently flushed your cheeks were. But to your surprise, he was giving you little smirks the entire meal, and giggling silently when your voice wavered as you spoke to Seonghwa. 

It’s like you two never really grew up. Two little kids giggling at each other from across the table, almost reminiscent of teasing your friends about their crush at lunch time. 

The big difference here is that your fucking crush is your best friend’s mom. 

And yet despite how obvious you two must’ve been, Seonghwa never commented on anything you two did. It was as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. 

You survived the rest of dinner, with light talk about how you and Wooyoung met, how school was going, your major, and more about you as a person. 

Seonghwa began to clean up when you all were done eating, but you grabbed your dishes and brought them to the sink. 

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked as you began to rinse off your utensils. He looked genuinely stunned, and you couldn’t understand why. 

“Cleaning?” 

“You don’t have to do that.” Seonghwa took the dishes from you. Not forcefully, but gently removing them from your hands. “I know, it’s polite to help, but I don’t mind cleaning. I actually like it.” 

“But you cooked. It’s the least I can do,” you argued. Seonghwa looked at you for a moment, then smiled. You felt your stomach flip over, and smiled back to cover it up. 

“Thank you, dear. That’s sweet of you.” 

The name shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did. 

You spent the next few hours with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, continuing to talk, having some movies as background noise. As you sat with them, you observed their dynamic, and learned more about both of them in the process. 

Your irrational theories about Wooyoung being averse to Seonghwa couldn’t be more wrong. He was relaxed, comfortable, and he clearly loved his mom. Wooyoung was cuddled up to Seonghwa towards the end of your conversation, his head basically on Seonghwa’s chest and his arms around him. 

After the final movie, all three of you decided it was time to head to sleep. You said your good nights and went to your separate rooms. 

But despite the comfortable bed, the wonderful room, and the hospitality of Seonghwa, you couldn’t sleep. 

You looked at your phone, you shifted around, you tried walking around, but you didn’t feel tired. You were getting frustrated after a couple hours. 

You decided to go get a drink of water. Maybe it would calm you, or walking around would take your mind off trying to sleep. 

You quietly made your way out of your room and down the hallway, using the light from your phone to guide you. As you passed Wooyoung’s room, you heard him softly snoring. 

You got into the kitchen and carefully navigated to the cabinets. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both had shown you where to find cups in case a need like this arose during your visit. You didn’t expect to need it the night of, but here you were. 

You found a glass and got your water. It didn’t make you feel any better, but it did feel nice. 

“Can’t sleep, darling?” 

Your whole body jumped as you whirled around to look for the owner of the sound. You knew it was Seonghwa before you saw him, but you still weren’t prepared to see him in the archway, leaning against the wall, in a long black silk robe with flowers all over it. 

You shouldn’t have been fixated on the fact that his robe was open enough for you to see the line that ran down his chest, and the slight ridge of each side. 

He laughed softly before he spoke. “I’m sorry for startling you.” 

His voice was deeper than it was before. Smoother, almost. Like chocolate sauce. 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” you mumbled, trying to keep your eyes on his face. That ended up not working out as his eyes made you feel small, and you looked to focus on your glass instead of him. 

But what you didn’t know yet was that Seonghwa didn’t like to be ignored. You looked at him when he spoke to you. It was a rule like any other. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you listen to Seonghwa. 

He walked over to you and grabbed your chin, turning your head to look up at him. Your mind went blank and your stomach churned inside you like a washing machine. A smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up as your cheeks turned red yet again. 

“There we are,” he cooed softly, his voice hardly more than a rumble in his throat. 

“Seonghwa, what are you doing?” You said, your voice wavering on every word. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he moved even closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck. 

“Don’t tell me I was hallucinating the looks you gave me since you showed up. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you checking me out the entire time?” 

Of course not, you knew there was a strong possibility he knew everything. He was at least over double your age, he was no stranger to all of this. 

“I just didn’t think you’d do anything.” You began to stutter more as you struggled to pick the right words. You could see it clearly, in his big dark eyes, that he was enjoying watching you fight to stay composed. 

“And why wouldn’t I? You’re a cute little doll, how could I resist?” 

Your heart gave one massive beat you could feel throughout your whole body. The air in your lungs was sucked out. Your head felt light. You didn’t feel like you remembered how to stand. 

Seonghwa laughed again, and his eyes shifted to something more hungry. More primal. “Come, little doll,” he said, pulling you even closer until you were pressed up against his chest. ���Won’t you stay with me for the night?” 

How could you answer with anything besides “yes”?

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[221beloved]

Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

(Link to ao3)

“John?”

John turned his eyes away from the trees, which were slowly changing their colour at this time of year, to look at Sherlock, walking next to him. “Yes, love?”

“They are eating gingerbread.”

“What?” John didn’t see anyone eating gingerbread, nor did he understand what Sherlock wanted to tell him with that observation.

“There!” Sherlock nodded to their left, and indeed, there was a couple sitting on a bench, happily munching, an open packet of gingerbread standing next to them.

John frowned. “Okay. And… what now?”

Sherlock turned to stare at him, his eyes wide, his expression almost shocked.

“John!” he called out in disbelief. “They, are eating, gingerbread!”

“Yes…?” John really didn’t get the point. “We’ve established that. What now?”

“It’s warm enough for them to sit on a bench in the park, yet they are eating gingerbread, John! Christmas is two months away!”

John blinked at the man, a little surprised at Sherlock’s outburst, then broke into giggles and nudged Sherlock’s hip.

“Wow, I knew that you pretend you don’t like Christmas, but that you’re so sensitive to people eating food that’s associated with the season, wow…”

Sherlock huffed next to him. “I do not pretend not to like it. I don’t have to.”

John tilted his head. “You seem contend enough when we’re decorating and having a nice time.”

“Well, you do like Christmas, for some reason that I cannot fathom, and since I like you there is some kind of… acceptance towards it.”

John grinned. “Hm, yes. Acceptance.”

“But only when it’s spend with you,” Sherlock added. “Only you. Well okay, Mrs. Hudson can come up as well if she needs to, but more I just can’t withstand!”

“Hm, I think your mother usually starts calling you in early October to ask you to attend Christmas dinner, right? Shouldn’t be long until her first call.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sherlock grumbled in remembrance of the yearly tradition of her asking and him refusing until the last possible moment.

“You know, it would be much easier if you’d just tell her, yes mummy, I will attend Christmas dinner, thank you for the invitation, yes I will bring John, yes, no gifts this year.”

“It would be much easier if she wouldn’t call me two times a week for almost two months to pester me about the same thing.”

“But would you come then?”

Sherlock decidedly didn’t answer that question, instead he kicked a chestnut that had the audacity to lay on the way.

“Oi!” John blurted. “Don’t you dare treat chestnuts like that.”

Sherlock looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“We used to build little figurines out of them.”

Sherlock only blinked at him. “What?” he repeated dumbly.

“Didn’t you? In primary school? They’d give you chestnuts, sometimes acorns, some toothpicks, and then you could build little chestnut men. I’ll show you a picture when we’re home.”

“That’s…” Sherlock lifted his brows almost appreciatively and nodded. “That’s surprisingly ridiculous. Bordering on hideous, even for primary school.”

John chuckled. “No! It was a very serious matter for us. Once one of us had found the first chestnut of the year we’d look forward to the day our teacher would come to class with a bag of them.”

Sherlock eyed him with a strange look, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that I’m sharing a flat with you, let alone my bed.”

John’s grin turned to a soft smile. “It’s because you love me, you nutter.”

“Yes. Yes I do. And I’ll never stop. Well, as long as you don’t start building those chestnut things again.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then both doubled over with laughter.

The rest of the way home was without any more disturbances, chestnuts and Christmas forgotten for the moment.

--

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[kazumist]

EPISODE 17 ✿ ENDEARING

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 794

it was silly, really. 

it was silly ever since diluc realized his feelings. he suddenly finds everything about you so endearing. he finds it ridiculous how he feels himself get all giddy when you’re not even doing anything. he finds it ridiculously endearing that the simple thought of you is enough to make him feel this way.

with finals approaching, all you and diluc do is technically just review the coverage of your exams. and when you’re lucky enough to finish early, you two would just stay at your spot in the library and kill time. “professor barnes is the literal worst, i swear!” you complained. professor barnes, your teacher for practical research, isn’t really the best. he tends to skip his class (you once thought it was ironic that he was the one cutting class instead of his own students). “let me guess, he didn’t turn up for your class with him again?” diluc asks.

“yeah, and as per usual, we just sat in the classroom like total idiots because we haven’t received any feedback yet about our draft for chapters one and two!” you complained to him again, groaning in annoyance as you felt diluc rub a hand against your back—his personal way of showing comfort.

“if you’d like…” he starts.

“nope! nuh-uh. you are not going to be the one who’s going to review our draft.” you knew immediately what he was going to suggest. and you shut him down as soon as you can. as much as you admire how diluc is so dedicated and hardworking, you don’t really want to be a burden.

“but i don’t have much on my plate right now.”

“liar. kaeya told me that you guys are busy with your capstone project these days.” 

he tilts his head at you, confused. “you’re friends with kaeya?”

“who isn’t friends with kaeya?”

“fair enough.”

“but seriously, diluc. you don’t have to do it. professor barnes will get the consequences of his actions soon enough. thanks for the offer, though; it’s appreciated.” a sigh escapes your lips as you lay your head to rest on the table, using your arms as a pillow. “i’m so tired," you mumble.

“you should rest for now," he says in a softer voice this time.

“don’t you have class after this?” you moved your head to his direction so you could look at him. diluc stares back at you. you had a few strands of hair covering your vision and diluc had to resist himself from brushing them away and tucking them behind your ear. “our prof just left us with an activity since she had an errand to do.” he said a bit late.

“are you done with it?” 

“not yet.”

“huh? why not?” your voice was a bit… muffled? or a bit hard to decipher because of your position. but diluc understood you word for word nonetheless.

“i guess you could say that i’m a bit lazy at the moment.”

“you? lazy? are you really the diluc ragnvindr that everyone loves and adores?”

“oh, shut it.” he playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

not too long after, you dozed off. leaving you and diluc in a comfortable silence. no one was around the floor you guys were in as usual. this time, he finds the courage to brush those strands of hair away from your face.

it’s alright to be selfish every once in a while, right? he thought.

he glances at you and observes your sleeping figure. you looked peaceful as you slept. calm breaths came in and out of you. is it silly of him to think that you look so pretty right now, even though you were just napping? diluc couldn’t formulate the right words to describe you back then. but now he has one.

endearing.

everything that you do or say is just so… endearing to him. diluc didn’t know that one could have such an effect on him. hell, he didn’t even expect to fall in love in the first place. during his years in school, he was only surrounded by people who would fall in love. never did he expect that he would end up being included in its population.

but if he’s going to be honest? he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

time ticked by and diluc sat there by your side during your whole nap. he simply shot a text at one of his classmates, saying that he wasn’t feeling well (he thought of saying that he got diarrhea, but he thought that would be too exaggerated) and that he wouldn’t be able to accompany them on their errand. so maybe skipping is a bit worth it.

after all, he was with you. and that was enough for him.

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[meryldian]

★ Growing up with Tokio Hotel (Devilish) ★

AN: It is no secret that I adore the childhood friends trope with all of my soul. This is very self indulgent and I have zero shame about it.

!! Some if not most hcs are based off events from Bill Kaulitz’s book “Career Suicide” !!

Part 2

Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking, small mention of bullying, some sexual themes briefly addressed. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about

How did you end up in Magdeburg or Loitsche is up to you, but there is no denial in saying that you were at the right place, at the right time when you met a little boy with spiky black and red hair at your new school playground

Little Bill Kaulitz thought you were cool from the second he saw you. There weren’t many people in the school that he had an interest on or that even payed any positive attention to him. With you it was different. You looked kind and unique!

Quickly he introduced you to his brother Tom, him being a kid with a bit of an inflated ego it would take him some more time to warm up to you.

In the meantime, you and Bill became inseparable. You were basically glued to each other’s hip. His mom would drop him off at your place every Saturday for you guys to play with your Polly Pockets, Power Rangers, dressing up in some ridiculous outfits that were the highest of fashion for your little selves.

Bill’s mom genuinely loved how her son was not scared to be himself around you. She would often ask how you were doing and when you would come over next.

You started to grow on Tom thanks to his mom’s faith in you. If his beloved mom trusted you then so could he.

Tom was getting into skating at the time, he would offer you to learn with him or watch him do tricks.

He loved the attention.

He probably tried to charm you up but gave it up when he saw of how much worth you were. You guys did not bring it up again, only in interviews later on when you wanted to dirt on Tom.

Unfortunately you wouldn’t always be shielded from the chaos in their childhood. One way or another you would probably end up trashing a train or smoking blunts behind the school bushes very early on.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to show up to class totally high.

On the evening you guys would grab your bikes, or you would ride with one of them, and head down by a lake to smoke, chat and unwind. Throwing rocks in and seing how many times it bounced.

With time the twins found their one true love, music. They dreamed big, long gone were the school talent shows and weddings. They wanted to reach the world.

For that, their little singer, guitarist duo with a keyboard that played bass and drums wouldn’t work.

One morning right before class the boys came up to you, literally sprinting and blabbering at the same time. You only understood “band, you, join, casting”

From that moment on you were doomed.

If you didn’t play an instrument already the twins’s step-dad would happily accept you into his music school for free.

Through his acquaintances you guys found a drummer. He was immature for his age according to Tom. He wore glasses and a little shirt with a cow skiing.

When the day of the “casting” as the twins called it came, Gustav played some Phill Collins and solos for you guys. Clearly it wasn’t a real casting and you were fully aware that this boy was your best bet at getting a drummer for your newly formed band. Yet, the boys took it very seriously.

Tom replied “alright good you have the job” and rolled with it.

What were the odds that at the same music school Gustav attended there was an aspiring bassist.

Again, it was your best bet so you took Georg in.

If your first language was english it could’ve gone two ways when the twins came up with the name “devilish”. You either loved it and thought it was sick or you cringed yet had to tag along with it for the boys.

Now you guys had the time of your lives with the band.

Weekdays after school would be spent entirely at the garage jamming out and drinking. You all sucked at the beginning, barely mastering your instruments but your charm stood out.

Georg and you became friends right away. His energy jumped right at you and you both became such a comedic duo.

He started the fire and you just added fuel to it.

You loved to prank your friends so much.

And innuendos. So many innuendos.

Once Tom joins into your madness, it’s over for everyone else.

It wasn’t rare for you three to come back home all messed up and pass out on Tom’s couch.

Gustav baking and making little snackies for the band while you rehearse !!

Well, you drank and lazied around more than rehearsing per say.

Tom, Georg, Gustav and you playing video games all coddled up on a couch together.

Thank god Bill is there to kick your asses so you actually play music.

Tom and You developed a habit of playing back to back. You thought it looked cool.

Gustav is the glue that keeps you all together, and away from major trouble. Half he time at least.

Quickly enough you gained a little fanbase in town.

At school you might’ve been the outcasts still, but the older and “cooler” kids took you in happily.

Not much changed, it was the same old story of drinking, smoking, trashing shit down but now with the slight change that everyone around you was discovering their sexuality.

You walk in and Georg’s wanking in the corner? Throw a blanket over him and continue with whatever you were doing.

Being around four young boys and their friends surely set you up to become just as shameless as them.

You guys got very familiar with one another and could not care less about changing in the same room or sleeping in the same bed.

You guys were starting to become a set of quintuplets.

You were probably one of the first if not the first person that Bill ever talked to about questionning his orientation and the little romance he had with his old friend.

If you happen to be a part of the community as well, Bill was your confidant as well. It was you guys’s little secret before coming out of the closet.

Needless to say, when Bill got the confirmation that he would be attending “Starsearch” he jumped right into your arms. You were one of his biggest supporters and he wanted you to be there for him.

Bill might’ve not won the competition, but it opened a door for your little band.

[maggplays]

Frogs of Fall: Perspectives

Another silly thing I wrote in between marathon runs of Alex marriage dialogue... A contribution to Sebastian's frog pajamas, I figured I should write something for that considering I started the whole thing! :D Written from each character's perspective, like the last one. Link at the bottom if you want it.

Sebastian/fem farmer (Raven OC) NSFW: mild language, sexual content | Quick read ~2200 words

Read on AO3 here: Frogs of Fall

I might be convinced to write part 2 if enough people are interested, leave a comment!

Raven

It’s early, but not that early. The sun rose not too long ago and the air is crisp. I feel a slight chill, but it will be gone once the sun fully rises. I check my watch one more time before resting my hand on the door. Nine o’clock. The handle turns and the door swings open. I step inside, bringing a swirl of fall leaves with me. “Hello, Raven!” Robin’s cheerful voice greets me as I step up to the counter, she winks and nudges the catalogue towards me, eager for another big project. 

“Oh, I’m still working on gathering decent hardwood for the stable, I should be ready to start on it in the next few days.” I can’t help but smile as she raises her eyebrow knowingly. 

Robin sighs. “Ah, well. It is a lot of work gathering resources by yourself. I’m off to aerobics class anyway, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow if not sooner. Have a wonderful day, Sebby should be up shortly,” she chuckles and heads out, leaning back to snatch a towel draped over the chair by the door. It’s a good thing I like Robin, she can be a lot sometimes. 

Shuffling footsteps reach my ears and I turn towards the sound. Sebastian emerges from the hall to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, hair tousled, a pillow crease across one cheek. He hasn’t seen me yet, his fingers run back through his hair, then up as he reaches for the ceiling, arching his back and yawning, shirt hem rising to expose his belly… Oh… holy… My eyes widen and my heart tries to escape my chest as my gaze drifts down to his belly button and a tidy row of dark hair marching in a straight line between the angle of his hips down to his dangerously-low waistband. My lips part and lungs struggle for air, I'm gaping like a fish but can’t do anything about it… Sebastian’s well-worn pajama pants are stretched out at the waist with frayed ties hanging loose. Little faded cartoon frogs frolic merrily across the fabric, dancing and catching dragonflies. One little frog seems to smirk then wink as it peeks out from its hiding place in his pajama fly. Rising up on his toes, Sebastian fully commits to the stretch, and I watch shamelessly.

As Sebastian opens his eyes, I see realization cross his features and he snaps his arms down, yanking on his shirt hem. Pfftt! God, he’s cute. Just like yesterday when he handed me a bouquet, staring at his feet, whispering, “Will you go out with me?” like he was terrified I’d say no. To my embarrassment, I practically jumped on him, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by my eagerness. Then he kissed me, or maybe I kissed him? I’m not sure but I’ll never forget that feeling. Oh damn, I’m just staring at him, letting the poor guy squirm.

“Good morning, handsome!” Ooof, that’s cheesy, oh well. It’s true anyway. That smile! Heh, and the little dimple in his cheek… I love when he laughs. “There’s frogs on your pants,” I blurt, like that wasn’t obvious. They are really cute frogs though. I wonder where he got those? Must have been a gift, I can’t see him buying something so silly himself. Sebastian looks down, red flush creeping up his cheeks. Of course that only draws my eyes to where he’s looking, directly at his crotch. 

“Uhhh… I should go get dressed, I’ll be right back.” Sebastian makes a move for the stairs, my hand flies out to grab his arm before I can think. I want to keep him here with me, him and his ridiculous pajamas that are… quite thin now that I see them up close. A burning ache fills my gut and before I can overthink it, I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him… hard. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight to his chest, a moan escaping his lips. I feel his body’s response to my proximity and I can’t help but rise up on my toes, feeling him rub against my pelvis, hard and hot. He opens his mouth and I kiss him deeper, our tongues tangling in a dance, his hands sliding down my back… The ache in my core intensifies as my body reacts to the feeling of him pressing against me.

SLAM! 

“SEB!! YOU UP YET?” Holy Yoba! I think my heart just stopped, I feel Sebastian jump and release him, returning my heels to the floor. He’s panting, obviously disoriented by Sam’s sudden interruption. “Oh, hey guys, Raven, I didn’t know you’d be here, heh! Uhhh, sorry, I can come back later. Like in five minutes? Haha!” Sam’s voice filters through the roar in my ears, my brain struggles to make sense of the words.

Blinking, I look down. That cheeky little frog is looking back at me from his rather high perch. Sebastian is gripping his shirt hem, self-conscious; I turn around, careful to keep Sebastian behind me, blocking Sam’s view. “I’ll wait outside, you’re supposed to come practice the new set at my place, remember?” I hear Sebastian’s rumbling grunt in response, and Sam thankfully takes the hint and steps out. Sighing, I turn back, leaning my forehead against Sebastian’s chest and settling my hands on his bare hips, I don’t want to let him go. 

After a moment I look up, meeting his eyes, swirling wells of bluish gray. “That frog is my favorite, he better come visit me later,” I whisper… that was… pretty forward. I hope he doesn’t mind. I smile to cover my embarrassment, I have no idea if he wants to repeat this scenario or just let it go and see what happens. All I know is I really love these pajama pants of his. 

“Sorry about Sam, I… do you want to meet up later? I have better pants, these are trashed. Heh, I must look like you found me in the sewer.” Sebastian sighs softly, avoiding my eyes. He’s definitely got the wrong idea, I can’t let him think that.

“Don’t you dare get rid of these, I love the little frogs and you look so… um, I better go before Sam gets bored and comes back in. Come over to my place tonight after you’re done hanging out at the saloon, and bring those pajamas. I want to get to know that little frog better, heh! Yeah, that was a joke. Sort of. Not really. Okay, I’m done, one more kiss?” That was definitely starting to go downhill… Sebastian immediately responds with a gentle kiss, his lips warm and inviting. Before I get lost in him, I pull back and head for the door, looking over my shoulder to catch one last glimpse of that man in frog pants. My man in frog pants. Tonight can’t come soon enough.

Sebastian

-Rumble- Urgh… shut up, stomach… it’s too early. The sun is just peeking through the tiny windows of my dungeon, must be around nine. -Rumble- Fine, I’m getting up. I drag my legs over the side of the bed, my toes curl at contact with the cold floor before I find my slippers. Shoulders drooping, I slide my feet towards the stairs, gravity sucks. Two… three… four… I trudge up the steps, dragging my fingers along the worn path in the wall until I reach fifteen.

Crisp fall air tugs at my hair and clothes as the front door closes, Mom must be heading out for her aerobics class. -Rumble- Alright, alright, we’re almost to the fridge… I rummage around and find an energy bar, I wish these actually gave me energy, but whatever. At least my stomach will be content. Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I shuffle back down the hall, hearing the door again. Mom must have forgotten her towel. Turning the corner, I pause to stretch my shoulders, must have slept weird last night… I glance up and freeze… Raven.

Heat washes over me as she smiles, my arms over my head, cool air prickling my bare stomach. I tug my shirt down and try to breathe normally. Only yesterday I had finally sucked up the courage to offer Raven a bouquet of flowers, hands shaking, stuttering out the words. She immediately accepted, no hesitation, she wanted… me. I still can’t believe it. When I ran into Sam afterward, the whole story just gushed out of me, he couldn’t stop laughing. I think I punched him, I don’t remember. Then he hugged me, what a goof.

“Good morning, handsome!” Raven’s cheerful voice yanks me out of my head, she’s the only one who can do that. I grin like a lovesick puppy… well, I guess that’s pretty accurate. Tilting her head, she gazes at me, the corner of her mouth twitching like it does when she’s about to say something sarcastic or that she thinks is funny. She has a great sense of humor, I don’t always get her jokes, but I laugh just the same. Seeing her happy is all I need. “There’s frogs on your pants, “ she smirks, eyes sparkling.

I look down. Oh god no… shit, shit, shit! I forgot I was wearing my frog pajama pants, the ones Mom got me several years ago, and have nearly been worn to transparency. She keeps begging me to throw them out, but every time I head to the trash, halfway there I think they have a few more washes left in them. The elastic has completely given up at the waist, the ties are frayed, and the faded frogs just mock me, knowing how much I love these pants. A frog looks up at me from behind my fly, sticking out its tongue. I can practically see the outline of my… oh god, these are going straight in the trash after this! Another wave of heat washes over me, and I feel a draft down there… I’m not wearing anything under these pants, I hate the feeling of boxers when I’m trying to sleep.

“Uhhh… I should go get dressed, I’ll be right back.” As I turn towards the stairs, Raven’s hand touches my arm, then she’s in my arms, pressing her body against mine. I feel every curve of her, soft breasts pressing against my chest, the slope of her back down to her… oh god, my breath catches as she presses her lips to mine, so full and sweet, like honey. My body reacts instantly to her touch, desire flaring to life in my core, no… no… there’s nothing I can do, these pants are way too thin to hide something that obvious. Though at this point, I don’t think it would matter if I were wearing jeans. She’d definitely feel that. Raven lifts herself on her toes, rubbing against me, I suck air at the sensation and she flicks her tongue into my mouth. I curl my tongue around hers, sliding my hands down over the curve of her glutes… tingling waves rushing over me, burning desire… ngh… I don’t think I can stop, I don’t want to stop.

SLAM! 

“SEB!! YOU UP YET?” Sam’s stupid yellow head flashes across the edge of my vision, Raven stiffens, quickly lowering her feet to the floor. Her arms release my neck, cold air flowing over my exposed skin. “Oh, hey guys, Raven, I didn’t know you’d be here, heh! Uhhh, sorry, I can come back later. Like in five minutes? Haha!” I glare over Raven’s shoulder at Sam, oh he’s definitely paying for that later. She turns, staying squarely in front of me, thank god. It’ll take a minute for my body to get the message that it’s time to cool off… I glance down, the smirking frog has completely emerged from its hiding place, perching right on my- Eeesh. That’s attractive. “I’ll wait outside, you’re supposed to come practice the new set at my place, remember?” I grunt my acknowledgment as Sam waves, snickering as he saunters out the door. Raven turns back, her hands on my hips, thumbs gently massaging my skin. 

She looks up and smiles, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. “That frog is my favorite, he better come visit me later.” I blink… is she serious? Does she actually like these pants? They’re so… stupid. 

“Sorry about Sam, I… do you want to meet up later? I have better pants, these are trashed. Heh, I must look like you found me in the sewer.” -Sigh- Why did I say that? She didn’t actually say she wanted to stay the night, she was probably just teasing. Talk about jumping the gun. 

“Don’t you dare get rid of these, I love the little frogs and you look so… um, I better go before Sam gets bored and comes back in. Come over to my place tonight after you’re done hanging out at the saloon, and bring those pajamas. I want to get to know that little frog better, heh! Yeah, that was a joke. Sort of. Not really. Okay, I’m done, one more kiss?” I bend down a little to give her a parting kiss, then she’s stepping out the door, leaving me feeling a little cold and empty. Trudging down the stairs, a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Tonight can’t come soon enough.

To be continued??

Shadows and Starlight (Perspectives 1)

[ribbonsncherries]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓉˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Student!Dean Winchester AU x student! reader

A/N: I still have a grudge over the person who took my seat this semester, like MOVE. btw with the end, I didn't know how to end this story sooo come up with a better ending in your head I bet it's much better than mine.

Summary: Everyone knows that if someone sits in the same spot for more than a day in class then that is their seat for the rest of the semester. So when Y/N comes to class she finds a surprise, and the competition for the seat begins.

Warnings: Language

Divider Credits:

@anitalenia

@cafekitsune

GIF Credits:

@supernovagifs

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

Another day another lecture. Y/N was exhausted from work the night before. So she was late to class, she’d been late before so she quickly got dressed had some cereal, and drove to school. When she came in she saw a guy with darkish blonde hair, little bits of freckles on his face, and the immediate smell of leather from his jacket. Y/N with a smile said, “Hi, excuse me, this is my seat.” She said in the most respectful tone to convince him to move.

Dean faced her and looked up and down at her then turned his head behind him and pointed at the empty seats “Go find another one sweetheart there are no assigned seats here.” He smirked before going back to his notes. Y/N’s mouth was slightly open. She marched back to the row behind him and sat down. Her seat didn’t feel right. Her seat was perfectly in the middle where she could see everything and be able to see no matter how tall a person is. Now this guy who took her spot’s hair is in the way. She grumbled as she took her notes constantly moving her body side to side to see what the professor was writing.

The next day came around and Y/N managed to get her seat in time by being 20 minutes early to class. Ridiculous, she knows that. But this seat is the best in the class and there’s no way she’s giving up without a fight. The lecture hall started filling up with the usual students. But Dean arrived 10 minutes early after Y/N. So when he saw the seat was taken Y/N looked down at the door and smirked. Dean growled in anger and sat down in the row behind her. “Bitch…” he muttered under his breath. Y/N looked behind her “It’s Y/N at least get my name right.” She said before returning to her work.

After the next couple of days, the fight for the chair turned…a little more competitive than it needed to be. Dean was known for his pranks on Sam. So he decided to use his master gift of pranks and use it on Y/N for the glory seat in the lecture hall. So when class ended and everyone left, Dean wrote down that the class was switched over to room 403. So he smirked as he left the class. And at room 403 he wrote a little note for Y/N.

The next day Y/N woke up early and got to class 20 minutes early like usual. When she saw the note on the board she went to room 403 which was a long walk from her regular lecture class. So when she reached the room her face dropped

‘Dumbass -Dean’

Y/N knew his name now. But that was the least of her worries. She ran out of the class and back to her regular lecture hall where she saw Dean smirk at her and wink back at her. She had a mad face and walked to the seat behind him. “Fucking asshole.” She muttered. “Looks stupid in that jacket.” She muttered as she dug her pencil into her notebook causing the led to crack.

One time as Y/N was walking to class she saw Dean was right beside her. They both made eye contact as one walked faster than the other and at that point been almost running. Allison being such a talented actor almost fell to her knees as her arms went to her lower torso. “Ahh!” She muttered like she was in pain. Dean’s smile immediately dropped as he went to her in worry and crouched down. “Hey! Hey, you ok?” He asked helping her up. Allison smiled and immediately ran “idiot!” She yelled as she ran for the seat laughing.

Then after a few weeks, it got…extreme. Both Dean and Y/N set up pillows in front of the lecture hall and covered themselves with blankets. “What time is your alarm?” Y/N asked smugly.

“5:45.” “Well I’ll set mine for 5:40.” She smirked. Dean immediately yelled out “Siri, change the alarm to 5:50!” Y/N looked back in anger. “Siri set the alarm for 6:00!” “Siri, disable Y/N’s phone.” Her mouth was wide open “You can’t do that! Siri self-destruct!” Their feud was like it wasn’t going to end. They kept going at it until Y/N just had enough.

Y/N was late for class and she competed with Dean so much she forgot to wash her jacket. It was so cold outside and in the lecture hall. So she grabbed whatever long sleeve she had left and went to class. She saw Dean at the seat with a smirk. She came up to him “Listen, I’m done. Just take it, it’s yours.” She mumbled while shivering. Dean's smirk faded as his eyes followed her to go to the seat behind him. Which they called the loser seat since whoever didn’t get the chair would sit there behind it. Dean had so many layers on him so he took off his jacket and walked behind her. He dumped his jacket over her shivering body.

She looked behind her and looked at him. “Now you’re the stupid one with the jacket.” He said as he smiled remembering what she said about him those first days. Y/N’s face turned red, she thought he didn’t hear her. “Sorry about that by the way…” she said awkwardly. “Thanks.” She muttered as she adjusted the jacket to fit better. She had to admit she felt much warmer. So when Dean returned to the seat. He couldn’t help but feel upset. Why did he feel bad, he won, and after weeks and weeks of competing for the seat why did he feel worse?

When class was over Y/N returned the jacket to him “Thanks, I was freezing in there.” She said. Dean smiled as he put it back on her. “It’s freezing out here, just make sure not to dirty it, it’s a bitch to have it dry cleaned.” He said as he grabbed his backpack and walked away. Y/N sat there still shocked. She put on his jacket properly. And when she put it on she immediately smelt the genuine leather, wood, and men’s cologne he always wore. Y/N had to admit he was somewhat cute. His emerald eyes and his cute little freckles on his face. It’s almost like she wanted to kiss- wait what the hell was she thinking?

As she began doing her chores at her apartment she kept looking at the leather jacket that was hanging, it annoyed her that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As for Dean, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Whenever he talked to Sam it was always about the competitions, every single topic Sam tries to tell, Dean always tries to make some connection to Y/N or the seat competition. “Dude shut up, I get it. You poured water on the seat and got her butt wet. You told me…20 times.” Sam said. Dean’s face dropped “Hey it was funny.” He defended. “Just admit you like her,” Sam told him in a reliving tone.

“I don’t like her.” Dean smiled. “Dude no, she’s a crybaby about a seat.” “So were you!” Dean looked down and agreed to himself he was a crybaby too. “Dude, you talk about her all the damn time.” Dean leaned back on his bed, where he and Sam were talking. “Dude no I don’t.”

“Y/N woke up so early for this, Y/N was hurt so I thought she needed help, Y/N is smart for choosing that seat, Y/N this, Y/N that. Just admit it!” He said hoping to bring his brother to his senses. “Fine, ok I thought she was hot, plus that added spunk in her caught my attention more,” Dean admitted. Sam could only smirk. “See big brother it wasn’t that hard.” He cooed at Dean. “shut up.” he said back. 

Y/N gave up. The perfect seat was gone. She wasn’t a sore loser so she just let him have it. She got his leather jacket he let her borrow then her bag and made her way to class. When she arrived she saw Dean sitting next to the chair they fought for with his bag on the seat like he was saving it.

“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow it, I promise nothing happened to it while I had it,” she said handing Dean back his jacket. Dean smiled and put it back on, he smelled her perfume mixed with his cologne that was lingering on the jacket. “Thanks.” he smiled back as he got back to his notes. Y/N stood there still wondering why the seat was not taken. “Why aren't you sitting in the good spot? Isn’t that why we fought for so long?” she smiled. Dean looked at her and chuckled, “Well, you had it first, my mom taught me better than to steal a lady's seat. So by all means sit.” 

Y/N smiled as Dean took his bag off the chair and placed it on the floor. As she sat down and gathered her things on the desk to begin working, Dean looked at her “Did you have fun at least… know with this thing happening?” Y/N giggled, “I did have to admit some parts were funny, but it was not funny when you stuck gum on the chair. It took me hours to take it all off.” she said. “I'm sorry, but you gotta admit it was funny.” he laughed. This was the first time he noticed her. He notices her hair, her eyes, her clothes, the little keychains on her backpack, and the colors on the highlighters she has. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester,” he said with his hand out for a handshake. Y/N smiled as she took her hand in his, “Y/N L/N.” “Well Y/N I officially call a truce,” he said. Gripping even harder on her hand. “And I officially call an agreement.” she smiled. 

“Do you wanna go to lunch after class? There's this diner and trust me every seat is good.” Dean asked her smiling. Y/N’s face grew pink and she nodded her head. “Sure.” she agreed. Who knew a guy Y/N grew to dislike became someone she could tolerate and maybe even like at this school. And it was all because of a chair.

[densi-mber]

All I Wanted was a Steak

***

“I have been looking forward to this all day,” Kensi said excitedly, grinning across a small table at Deeks. For once, they’d actually gotten out of work early enough to have a date night, and ended up at their favorite steakhouse.

“Yeah. And we should actually have an enough time to catch a movie or something else afterwards,” Deeks said, checking his watch. “You want to see that new superhero thing?”

Kensi inclined her head. “Mm, maybe next time.”

“We could always do one of those classes where you drink wine and paint,” Deeks joked. Kensi made a face.

“That sounds awful. And you’ve seen my painting when I’m completely sober.”

“Hey, I still think the duck is very cute.”

“It’s supposed to be a swan,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes. “And I had something a little less…clothed in mind.”

Deeks grinned, lowering his voice as he leaned close enough to see the distinct color of her eyes. “You mean less clothed like for a late night dip in the ocean or something a little more private? Cause I know an amazing spot we could skinny dip.”

“You’re ridiculous. And I love you.” Taking his hand, Kensi rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. She smiled slyly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been arrested.”

“Oh, that can definitely be arranged.”

Their waiter arrived then with their drinks and to take their orders. As he walked away, Kensi looked slightly beyond Deeks, her eyes widening with curiosity.

“What’s going on?” Deeks asked suspiciously.

“A guy just walked in with a gun. I’m not sure, but I think he might be about to rob the restaurant,” she said with a calmness that belied her words.

“Kens, that’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not. Yeah, he’s headed for the register.”

“Crap!” Deeks hissed.

With a resigned sigh, and muttered curse, he followed Kensi as she got up, winding her way between tables. Deeks veered off, intending to come at the guy from the side.

About halfway there, a second guy appeared from nowhere, pointing a gun directly at Kensi.

“Kens, on your left!”

She dropped to the ground and Deeks launched himself through the air, tackling him to the ground. Several nearby patrons screamed, scrambling to get away. The gunman bucked beneath him, trying to throw Deeks off.

Amidst the chaos, Deeks heard Kensi shout something, and automatically searched for her in the crowd. He saw her fighting against the first guy. The second gunman took advantage of his momentary distraction to elbow Deeks in the face. It gave him just enough leverage to flip onto his back, and he slammed the gun into Deeks’ cheek.

The blow radiated through Deeks’ entire head, but he managed to keep ahold of the guy, grabbing the hand hand quickly descending towards his face again. Forcing his hand back, Deeks grabbed a handful of his hair, slamming his head into the ground. It stunned the guy long enough for Deeks to flip him back over and force his arms behind his back.

“Deeks?”

Chest heaving, Deeks looked up into Kensi’s concerned face. Other than messed up hair, she didn’t appear to be hurt.

“Are you ok? God, you’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, I’m just. He got me with his gun,” Deeks explained, his explanation a little disjointed as the pain set in.

“Here, let me take over.” Carefully taking Deeks’ place, Kensi pressed her knee into the gunman’s back. Deeks sat down heavily, wiping blood away from his eye with a grimace.

“Where’s the other guy?”

“An off-duty cop is holding him till LAPD gets here,” she explained.

“Damn, this is really gonna put a damper on our festivities. I didn’t see this date night ending with a trip to the ER,” he said.

“I was really looking forward to that steak,” Kensi sighed sadly.

“And using our handcuffs for much different activities,” Deeks added.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(16) - Epilogue

I Dreamed We'd Grow Old Together...

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Robert and Y/n's life over the next five years

word count - 2k

warnings - pregnancy, and an insane amount of fluff

a/n - and so it ends! This fic has been very important to me and has given me such a great outlet. I want to thank you all for your continued love and support for this fic! If it hadnt been for you guys I probably wouldnt have had enough confidence to continue it!

Please like/comment/reblog/follow!!!

a/n pt2 - Also seeing as I have fallen in love with this relationship I will be accepting questions and headcanons on their relationship!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

Questions and Headcanons on Robert x y/n - here

And so we came together. It felt like the culmination of a thousand dreams.

We went out on many dates. Robert would plan these luxurious and expensive expressions of affection: dinner at the fanciest restaurants, cinemas bought out for our private viewing experience. But we alternated who planned the dates, so when it came to my turn I went for the simplest. Walks on the beach, picnics in the park. One day I even found a crafting class for us, and I could’ve cried on the spot when I saw his eyes light up at the handmade windmills. Of course, he saw it as a happy coincidence when in reality I enjoyed feeling like I was healing his childhood self, one step at a time.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. We were out on a hike which I had chosen. He had grumbled about the idea of getting up early, but I could see the stress leave his body at the first gulp of forest air. I carried on ahead as he went to tie his shoe but when I turned back I gasped. Robert was down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/n Cobb, I have loved you since that first moment I laid eyes on you, and I think even before that.” I walked closer to him so I could hold his other outstretched hand. Tears were streaming down my face and my smile was holding back an extremely loud yes. “I know how much you believe in dreams and so on. And last night I had a dream that we grew old together. When I woke up I knew it had to be my reality. Y/n Cobb, will you…”

I threw my arms around him.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” I placed a loud kiss right on his lips.

“You could have at least let me finish!” He teasingly whined.

“Well I could see where you were going!” I argued back but was halted when he kissed me once more. We pulled away long enough so Robert could slide the ring onto my finger.

Safe to say, we did not finish the hike that day as we quickly went home to celebrate.

I had moved in with Robert before so we visited Dad and the kids for lunch the day after to give them the news. Dad had always been weary around Robert, not knowing if he would recognise him. But it was fine as, in my Dad’s words, ‘when Robert is around Y/n, it’s like the world doesn’t exist.’. Dad still couldn’t stop himself pulling Robert aside whilst Philippa was asking me a million questions about the wedding and if she could be a bridesmaid. All he did was roughly grab his hand and pulled him close and merely whispered

“She’s my precious girl. And I have a gun.”

Safe to say Robert was healthily shocked.

We got married weeks later as neither of us could wait. I told Robert I didn’t care about a big expensive wedding, but he couldn’t seem to accept that.

I got my wish for a small wedding in the garden of my childhood home, with just my closest friends. But everything else about it was still ridiculously posh. Right down to the flower arch we were married under.

James and Philippa were my brides’girl’ and brides’boy’. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. Arthur and Eames were there as well as Yusuf and Ariadne. They were all worried about the risk of the inceptors being so close to the mark after the heist.

“There’s no telling what could trigger his memory.”

“Well, y/n spent the most time with him out of all of us and she’s marrying him.”

“We can’t all sleep with him!”

“ENOUGH!”

I then put a rule that there was to be no dream talk at my wedding. My father even gave his own little speech explaining that if anyone ruined my wedding, he would kill them. We all laughed but his continued silence quickly shut us all up.

Robert did not want any family there. And he also didn’t have friends he felt were close enough to warrant an invitation.

One night, whilst planning, I cautiously asked him about inviting his godfather. He tensed up and lowered his eyes. He brushed it off saying it would be too many people. I reluctantly agreed with him whilst looking at the sparsity of his side of the guests.

The wedding was beautiful, and we finished with dancing on the grass well into the early hours of the morning. I got my first dance with my father, a day I thought would never come. Philippa asked Robert to dance, and he graciously accepted, lifting her up onto his feet and they swayed alongside us.

The morning after we were curled up together in bed. My back leaned on his chest as he played with my fingers. The morning sun bleeding into my childhood bedroom.

“Where do you want to live?” His morning voice broke the quiet.

“I thought we were going to move into your house.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes which were trained on a picture of me, my dad and my mum.

“I don’t wanna go back. Being here, in this house, with all the love in it. I just don’t want to go back there.”

“Okay.” I leaned up and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So if you could live in any house, anywhere in the world, where would you live?”

I snuggled myself back into his chest and closed my eyes as I imagined.

“Somewhere in the countryside, with a big sprawling garden that backs onto fields and forests with plenty of walks. The house should be cozy, with a big kitchen with an old fashioned stove that keeps us warm in winter. Wooden tables where I can cook and bake all day long till my hearts content. The house should have big windows so the sunlight can dictate our day. Small bedrooms but big comfy beds, fluffy rugs, open fires. And maybe even an extra room...with a cot.” I met his eyes for the last word.

“Yes.”

“To which bit?”

“To all of it.” We kissed passionately.

A few days later and Robert woke me up and told me we were going on a trip. We bundled into his car and drove for hours until we came to a stop outside a house that seeped with familiarity. I got out, transfixed by what stood before me. It was as real from my mind as if I had created it in my dream. Robert moved to unlock the little gate which led to the front door. He turned to me and held out a set of keys with a little windmill keychain.

“It needs a bit of work and I know I shouldn’t have bought it without showing you—”

“I love it.”

We didn’t need a honeymoon, the two weeks to ourselves spent decorating and filling the house with our love was enough. I drew designs for each room and Robert would do the heavy lifting. I could see how much he enjoyed working with his hands after dismantling his business a week into our relationship. I also was unable to help much as my hand found softly stroked a barely noticeable bump.

We relished in the days of decorating, where trying to paint a single wall would turn into silly games or dancing round to music, intermittent with many kisses and hugs.

Eventually we had built our home out of our house and we relaxed into our sofa, a bottle of red between us. We sealed the night with a kiss and it definitely didn’t end there.

Five Years Later

I stand at the sink washing our dishes from lunch and look out of the window onto our expansive garden. Robert runs about the grass, clad in soft jeans and a ratty knitted jumper. Our three darling children chase around him at varying speeds. Our eldest, Isla, holds her baby sister Aspen’s hand, and Nicholas, the youngest, toddles behind his sisters, excited to be involved.

Arthur runs up from behind and scoops Nicholas up into his arms through the giggling shrieks of the three. He bounces Nicholas up into the air. Isla and Aspen then run over and begin shouting up at their uncle for their turn.

I don’t hear Robert make his way into the house, I just feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and soft kisses being ladened up and down my neck. I sink back into his body which is warm from the sun. His arms snake down and his hands lay on mine.

“Leave those now. I’ll do them later.” I agree by turning in his arms so we can meet in a proper kiss. His fingers grip my waist and stroke my sides.

Our moment is interrupted by a loud opening of the door. I roll my eyes at the familiar sound and break apart to greet Eames at the door.

“Right! Where are my darling godchildren?”

“I give you a good time to come round, and you insist on coming just before their tea and bath time.”

He laughs and knocks my chin with his knuckle.

“Motherhood suits you.” I bat his hand away and gesture out the door. “Make it quick.”

I turn back to a still laughing Robert who quickly stops once he sees my stern face.

“I’ll ask Eames if he wants to stay for tea with Arthur.” He goes to go back into the garden.

“What you thinking for tea?” I ask his retreating form.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“Delicious.” He smiles and leaves.

I begin sorting through the mail which still sat on the side. I smiled once I reached a postcard from Dad. He’d taken the kids to Disneyland for a week and sent a picture of them with Goofy. I pinned it up on our cork board.

My peaceful moment is soon interrupted.

“Y/n! Tell Arthur that I’m the favourite uncle!”

“Y/n! Tell Eames that fun does not have to mean dangerous!”

“Mama, mama, Uncle Eames turned me upside down and span me around!”

“See! Dangerous!”

“Honey, where’s the disinfectant? Aspen scraped her knee.”

“Mummy it really hurts!”

“Mama! Uppies! Uppies!”

I picked Nicholas up into my arms and simply giggled, perfectly happy with my life.

It was now night. Arthur and Eames had left after insisting on reading the kids stories which meant they were roped into reading 3 stories per child. Nicholas had gone down first. Then Aspen and even though Isla had loved staying up with mummy and daddy, tiredness had overcome her quickly. So Robert carried her up and tucked her into bed.

We now lay in bed together, curled up. Simply relishing in the silence that was so foreign in our big house.

“Do you wanna know something strange?” He broke the silence. “That day we met, I had a dream about a girl who I fell in love with. I like to think it was you.”

I bit my lip to stop myself uncontrollably grinning.

“And since then, my dreams have been consumed by you and our little family.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but he was locked in thought and I knew I couldn’t interrupt his thoughtfulness.

“The moment I met you I realised that I wanted to create my own family rather than continue working for one that never loved me.”

I hugged him tighter as his voice shook slightly.

“Well, that’s good. Because your family is about to get a little bigger.” I took his hand and drifted it down until it landed on a subtle bump.

“Perfect.” He kissed my hairline as his hand stroked up and down my stomach.

The silence resumed and we both fell deeper into the stillness of the night. But as I drifted off one thought plagued my mind.

Perhaps the idea never actually took hold.

Perhaps it was me and him.

Us together, that changed his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thank you so much for reading!!

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