#so she had to be gone most of the day and then in her way back the roads were CHAOS

[christinescupofcoffee]

Multis. Although… I do enjoy the stray one shot every now and again.

A bit of both, and i’ve found that I’m most relaxed when I write without a plan (or at the very least having an idea as to where it’s going but not really having a destination. All my fics the last couple of years have been like this).

I take my time with chapters now—last few times I’ve gone on ao3 for any reason, the damned thing crashes (really, I’m worried about that place. I can’t expect it to last for the next four years the way it freaks out every couple of days). I worry about things like censorship, too: so getting my fics saved onto my laptop, I’m free to write and continue these stories at my own pace. My laptop is offline, too, i.e., no distractions. Sure, I can’t share anything, it’s a hassle, but… I kind of like it. It’s giving me all the 2016-2018 vibes when I was in the dark, away from the world, living in my own world alone. Everyone was screaming and yelling and carrying on about the political landscape and I just tucked myself away into my own imagination. I kind of want to do it again, if I’m honest.

I feel so raw saying this, raw and vulnerable, but… I have always been in love. I have always found myself crushing on someone. I have always written from the heart.

Honestly? *looks around* not really. It can be very useful, helpful, inspiring even. But… I approach this the same way I approach the culinary world and art: I bake a cake or make a drawing the same way I write a long fic, and I simply cannot divorce my heart from my work. People like to gripe about this sort of thing until the cows come home… no one has no idea how it makes me feel. Yes, I know my grammar can be complete shit at times, and yes, I am very verbose, but that’s how I roll. No need to shame me and make it seem like I just committed a mortal sin by accidentally omitting a word.

Nope. No beta, we die like Titans of Creation.

It has to “speak to me”, if you will. Seasons Grey works with third-person perspective because you don’t know everything about Christine and Alex is a mystery. Blood & Chocolate and After the Gold Rush work with first-person perspective because it’s intimate. Xenon Dreams works with the alternating first-person because all five men have different experiences, and it’s intimate; conversely, All That Glitters has the alternating third-person because it’s more adventurous. Now it’s Dark and Dark Months of April and May use first-person because it’s unreliable. Quarter After Twelve has the what I call “2 whole eggs, 3 yolks” perspective (Andy and Zero’s arcs are first-person; Richie, Tina, and Allison are third-person), as Andy is traumatized, Zero is stuck in one place, Richie and Tina are both still waters, and Allison is a broken man and therefore detached.

Beginning (what I get for being an Aries 😅)

I try to—and you know, I would be a lot more adept at it if people didn’t bitch about it ad infinitum. I was thinking about this the other night when SNL50 was going, too: fandom has changed drastically just in the last few years alone, in a sense that fans not only treat it like it’s business but they spend more time whining about the most trivial things (lack of comments, getting criticism, this weird unhinged approach to fandom as a whole) than doing anything useful or creative, god forbid.

“Meanwhile, once she had come downstairs, Alex had already showed up outside of her apartment in a snug dark gray shirt and low-slung black long shorts. His shoulder-length black hair was almost smooth and nicely combed back: there was a slight curl right over his shoulders, and his skin looked as smooth as porcelain. He looked a bit fuller, rounder, and softer right then, especially with the shade cast down from the building upon the crown of his head and his shoulders. He lifted his sunglasses up from his face to show her his eyes.” (latest chapter of Dark Roots of Earth, book two of Seasons Grey)

Genuinely don’t want to do that because… you know. ao3 is more mental than me the week before my period starts. But… With Strings Attached, the Beatles fic that inspired pretty much everything long from me. There’s a Light, the Pearl Jam/grunge fic that I still think about even 8 years after its completion. My friend Amanda wrote a two-parter that inspired Midnight Oil (drawing a blank on the title). You Know Your Rights on Wattpad (can’t remember the author’s name), probably the best “Hole-vana” fic I can think of. The entire Gojira tag on ao3. There’s a couple of Alan Partridge fics on ao3 that got a good laugh out of me. Love in Exile and a couple of Alice In Chains fics that wake up the kinkster in me. FOOLS GOLD (from Cazio).

I have a complicated relationship with feedback. I welcome it forever, but because I had to go through English and writing classes, peer reviews, teachers who ran on assumption that I knew what I was doing, the whole thing about me writing from the heart, and the fact that I tend to attract negative attention (I’ve often felt that people have an inexplicable pathological hatred of me), I never expect accolades. In fact, I fully expect everyone to hate it.

Be descriptive. I like bending this one and injecting poetry into things, even if it doesn’t seem to make sense.

This has been a learned skill on my part because when I first got into fiction writing, it was hard to not get melodramatic with things. I’m an emotional person and the other thing that’s worked for me is a cause and effect situation as well as pulling from my own scars: in Seasons Grey, Christine lost her best friend at a young age and sort of buried it. I wonder how everyone is going to react to this tidbit of her life, especially Alex—especially since he reminds her of Chris. In stories like All That Glitters and After the Gold Rush, I just sit and think of angst. What would happen if Jed and Octavius suffered an irreversible falling out. Where would Phileas go if he just started thinking and realized what was happening, both with Monique and Passepartout and back home in England. I feel like I made those three more human with this, too.

My smut is so wordy that even I can’t believe it. I have to set the mood as well as be spontaneous with it. It’s genuinely isolating when I look at smut in other places, too, like I can’t just do 1200 words, I have to lead into things and I have to be real with it all, too.

A bunch 😅 As the Seasons Grey. I started writing it in early 2023 after doing kinkmas during a blizzard: it basically just grew out of this fantasy I have about being a source of comfort for the man.

Exercise. Draw. Read. Garden. Bake and/or cook. Watch a movie or TV.

I think there was a couple where I came up with the title after I started writing simply because anything else I came up with sucked (fever in, fever out was an example of this; so was Have Your Cake and Eat It). Like with perspectives, titles usually speak to me, and they’ll come in song form or in sayings. “xenon dreams” is a weird one, though: xenon is a byproduct of radioactive iodine, which is found in fallout. That whole fic had this dreamy, blue color scheme whenever I thought about it; xenon is blue/indigo when electrolyzed.

“Alternate Universe”

A love of food. A feeling of heart throughout. This overreaching feeling of vulnerability within, a tenderness. Writing because I have a crush and no one knows how to react to it. Lately, I’ve been throwing in little call backs to my other wips in my wips, like it’s a spiderweb.

Yes, but I don’t see it happening any time soon, though.

Second-person perspective. Done to fucking death at this point and something about it just irritates me to no end, like it ruins my immersion right from the beginning.

Write when you can (instead of “write every day”, because sometimes you just can’t write every day, damn it).

“Avoid overused words” (look no further than “said”. Why. Why would I avoid “said”.) “Use active voice” (I’ve found a lot of power in being a little passive or submissive, if you can believe it. Conversely, I have had the most complaints from my active voice).

now it’s dark. My last adventure before the pandemic. Joey himself even loved it!

fever. Homeboy was 1.1 million words!

Most favorite: just seeing my internal worlds come to life. Least favorite: sharing it with everyone.

2-3k is considered a good day to me. 4-5k is “I got snowed in/it’s too fucking hot out to do anything” word lengths.

Ha, you really don’t want to know.

Yes.

Characters. Maybe that’s another reason why my fics tend to be entrenched in heart?

Amanda. Aviva Rothschild (author of With Strings Attached, i had to look her up really quick). Drawing a blank on the name of the person who wrote Love in Exile.

Of course!

Hopefully not like my homeskillet Oscar Wilde.

Their darkness exists in all of us to some degree.

Nervously with a pit in my stomach, a devastating feeling of existentialism, and a side of ginger ale.

Yet another thing that speaks to me.

Yes… but I don’t have the best experience with them, though. I tried to get commissions with my art years ago, and… there’s a reason why you aren’t seeing them.

(see above)

bro, if you make fanart of Alex and Eric on the lawn outside the apartment complex at sunrise, of Erik and Dragon talking, of Isaac flipping out on Richie, of James and Richard at breakfast, of Phileas napping, of Octavius and Ahkmenrah getting slack jawed drunk, of Jane and Vanessa with their braids… I’ll be happy.

If I really like something, I’ll read it several times.

The last fic I left kudos on ao3 was a compilation of Strawberry Shortcake one shots: underrated fandom and it was snowing outside, so I was in a cozy mood. The last fic I bookmarked was a one shot from Ideal Home: it was erotic and very tender.

The latter. I really only put them through pain to ground them.

I have no beta but I omit words all the time.

I want to make you laugh then break your heart, and then vice versa—such is the Steve Coogan school of writing.

Emotionally charged idyllic action

2. Any more than that and I’ll drive myself crazy.

🤷🏻‍♀️

All the time and I don’t deal with them.

1.1 million, AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

4.9 million, I think?

I want to. Believe me, I want to. I’m way more responsive on instagram, though, mainly because I can see you on my lockscreen. There’s none of that nerve-racking “oh, shit, what is it now” that comes with getting an inbox notification.

Definitely a writer. When I read, I go way outside of the fandom (like Strawberry Shortcake, old Top Gear, lesser known literature and theater, anything Steve touches). I’m not afraid to go into unknown territory, too, like Around the World in 80 Days with Steve and Skinwalker Ranch. Maybe that’s why Bandom writers can’t stand me?

Really, just writing the thing.

Hands down, Alex. He’s the love of my life. I just found him on a whim, in a bad part of history, and I was drawn to his plume of silver and his intellect. He brings out the sensuality in me, too, more than Joey or Lars.

🤷🏻‍♀️

Wait until it’s finished. Again, I’ll drive myself crazy.

Writing without question.

No, and yes, I would. My mom wrote fics way back in the era of message boards and mailing lists, back in 2001-2002, so she gets it.

Can’t say I have.

I like doing it and… referring back to fandom changing for the worse, is it just me or do fics, especially rpf fics, seem kind of mean-spirited now. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I read some rpf where it felt like the author actually likes the guy involved, aside from the thing Amanda wrote. There has to be some heart here.

Painful but my god, do they keep you engaged.

“Coming inside” someone. Screaming. “Good girl.” Tight pussies—bitch, no one’s pussy is that tight. Weird euphemisms for body parts, too. When you’re reading about your kink and something happens that turns off the whole mood or doesn’t gel with your approach. The author claims to be sex-positive but there’s something off about the whole thing, like there’s no way that they are. Goes without saying I don’t like a ton of smut.

“Good boy.” Foreplay. Tension, like… you’re anticipating it and you don’t know if it’s going to happen or not.

Bringing it to life. Cozying up all snug next to Alex, Eric, Joey, Lars, Krist, Richard, James, Steve, all my boys under the warm sun away from the world…

I don’t think about it anymore.

Independent ideas. I guess this is the other reason why I hate kinktober other than feeling rawer than a frozen chicken?

Everything.

Black Diamonds. I got called “disgusting” for that, if you can believe it.

Totally embarrassed. I’m enthusiastic but every time, I’m faced with stupid reactions that it makes me uncomfortable.

…I’m not sure?

Chronological. I kinda have to.

It’s just weird.

probably the writing style.

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[adore-laur]

in one of your pieces it’s briefly mentioned that the first time they had sex after she gives birth it was really uncomfortable and not good and i was wondering if you’d ever write that ? i love the idea of sex not always being perfect especially after going weeks without it

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT

——

There was a sexual suggestiveness about the toothpick poking from Harry's mouth, and its effect on you could only be attributed to your severe case of sleep deprivation. It was a stupid piece of wood, and yet how it was framed between his plush lips sent prickles of heat surging down your neck and spine. On second thought, perhaps it was the apron tied around his waist as he dipped ripe strawberries in melted chocolate for a Valentine's Day dessert—his long fingers working with skillful precision, the sleeves of his tight long-sleeve shirt rolled up, the romantic gesture of it all. No, maybe it was the baby sling wrapped around his shoulder that held your four-month-old daughter, who was watching his every move. God, and the way he was murmuring to her each step of what he was doing definitely contributed to your rising libido. It was a sight you were still getting used to. More remarkably, it validated your years-long yearning to have children with him.

If humble swagger existed, it came in the form of how Harry carried himself as a father. The casual way he interacted with your baby was as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Walking around the house with her on his hip, going about his daily routine. Always willing to step in to give you a moment to relax. He was dependable, and you cursed your hormones for reacting so rabidly to it.

Maybe the changes your mind and body had gone through were catching up. After months, you finally felt healed from the physical wounds of giving birth. No more stitches or soreness down below. No more bleeding.

Your desire for sex was... almost normal again. You were being a bit sheepish about initiating anything, so you sincerely hoped the hunger in your eyes was communicating to Harry what you couldn't say verbally. The problem, however, was that Harry was too enamored with your little girl to notice your longing gaze. She was the center of his universe now, and you couldn't blame him for orbiting her radiance. She brought a certain euphoria to each day.

You rested your chin on the back of the couch where you observed them and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. It was quiet moments like these, where baby cries paused, that warmed your soul. You took time to appreciate the beauty of home, with its familiar waves and friendly birds. The creak of the floorboards and the color of the walls. The rumble of your husband's voice and his gentle presence. And most lovely of all, the adorable coos coming from the life you created.

Your eyes shifted over to the kitchen table, where a tall glass vase with flowers sat. You had woken up this morning to Harry helping your daughter hold a pretty bouquet of peonies to present to you. It came with a note that read, You make our hearts bloom. We love you.

Life was chaotic lately, yet so very blissful.

Harry was humming now as he threw the toothpick away and set the dipped strawberries in the fridge to harden. The plump red flesh encased in delectable chocolate made your mouth water. Such a simple recipe, yet somehow Harry made them taste better than a gourmet baker ever could.

He shut the fridge and moved to the sink to wash his hands. He must have sensed your gaze because he looked over his shoulder and smiled. Just the sight of him in this new role caused a swell of emotion to crash against your chest and crack your heart open.

"I've got an audience," he remarked.

You just stared at his hands supporting your daughter's small body—beautiful, sculpted, and what you had been missing desperately on your skin. It was embarrassing to admit that ever since giving birth, the closest you and Harry had gotten to any sexual intimacy was dry humping. Even then, your stitches had still been healing, so the experience was never quite satisfactory. It was no surprise that you were growing impatient.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing your strange silence.

"Nothing," you murmured, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckled and walked over to you. "You're blushing."

Your palms flew to your cheeks. "I am?"

"Big time. Are you feeling okay?"

"I... yes, I'm just"—you fanned your overheated face—"feeling a lot of things right now."

His brows scrunched together. Men were so lucky not to experience the rollercoaster of female hormones. You would sound asinine if you attempted to explain why your body was responding to him doing nothing but being a good father.

"I'm stressing you out," Harry stated as a guess.

"No, not at all."

"You're having a hot flash," he guessed again.

Groaning, you dropped your head face-first onto the couch and mumbled, "I need sex."

"Say it again, please?"

You lifted your head and avoided contact as you repeated, "I need sex. I'm healed, and I want to take advantage of this urge before it goes away." Because it would. Your hormones were still regularizing post-birth, so you weren't going to count on getting your libido back to complete normalcy. Instead, you would pounce on the open opportunities.

Harry contemplated your confession for a while, making no show of judgment. "Any blood?" he asked.

"Nope."

"And the stitches?"

"They're dissolved. Can't even tell I pushed a nearly ten-pound baby out."

He smiled, albeit cautiously. "But how do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Harry," you assured. "If you're not feeling it, we don't have to do anything. Just, you know, giving you the green light."

A shadow of sincerity passed over his face. "Who said I'm not feeling it?" You shrugged, and he gently grabbed your chin to raise it. "Look at me." His green eyes held your gaze steadily. "You wanna try?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "I miss you."

"You have me," he said resolutely. "All of me, tonight."

"Oh," you said, not expecting him to jump on board so eagerly.

"Let's shoot for eight o'clock. When the little one goes to bed."

You broke out into a giggle. "So... a sex appointment."

Now it was his turn to blush. "I heard scheduling sex is supposed to help new parents reconnect."

A rush of heat spread to the tips of your fingers. You thought of the multiple instances when you and Harry consolidated spontaneity and sex. It often sprung upon you without warning, like a carnal beast clawing at your skin. And it always involved mutual desire, like a burning ball of tension the size of the sun. The house was memory-stained with reminders of all the ways your body had been worshiped. Over by the kitchen island, Harry had held you captive with his hips pressed flush against yours. The bay window in the living room had sometimes been blemished with handprints. But the bed in which you sleep and wake up to him every morning was where long, intense sessions happened. Harry slowly sliding into you during weekend sleep-ins, providing a warmth and fullness so heavenly. Late-night quickies after being away from each other all day, a little messy yet perfect all the same. Hell, you had even done it in the ocean under the moon. You wanted nothing more than to find that natural groove again.

"Okay." You reached out to squeeze his bicep. "I believe you."

"All right," he replied in the deep, sensual tone he reserved for intimate conversations like these. You looked downward, feeling giddy. Within milliseconds, Harry planted a hot, heavy kiss on your lips before walking.

With the way your heart fluttered, one would think you had just met him. But you knew his body exclusively, as he knew yours, and tonight would be a test.

——

You stood in the doorway of your closet, sifting through the three pairs of lingerie you owned. They were lacy little one-pieces in off-white, powder blue, and red. It was doubtful they would fit like they used to, but you craved wearing something other than baggy sweats and Harry's shirts. While it gave you pride that you grew life, an insecurity still planted its pesky seed inside. You hadn't looked at your bare body in the mirror since, honestly, you didn't have a clue. It would never look the same again, especially considering you didn't plan to only have one child.

There was a nervous tremor in your hands as you took the red lingerie off its hanger—a slimming color to hide the loose, extra skin that still remained postpartum. You thought about Harry and how he liked to strip away every last piece of fabric blocking him from his touch. Even before pregnancy, during sex, you had never felt the need to accentuate your physicality with frilly, feminine garments. Harry took you in just about anything. Unfortunately, as new parents, there was simply not enough time or energy to initiate anything more than mediocre makeouts. You felt foolish for even bringing up the prospect of sex earlier. Now there was an expectation, and you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't chicken out.

Why were you so jittery? He was your husband, for crying out loud. There was no one you felt more comfortable around.

With a huff, you started undressing yourself just as the sound of the blow dryer stopped. Harry would be ready any minute for this supposed sex appointment. Meanwhile, you were out of practice, self-conscious, and hopelessly horny—he was going to regret agreeing to this.

You tugged the lingerie on, feeling it cinch your torso and breasts. It was tight, the flimsy fabric holding on for dear life. The V-shaped cut revealed the stretch marks lining your hips. The lace was itchy and dug into your skin suffocatingly. Fuck, this was quickly turning into a self-enforced humiliation ritual.

The bathroom door slid open, and Harry emerged in just a pair of white boxers, his hair dry and fluffy. The leftover shower steam made his skin glow, as did the dim lighting. He was effortlessly handsome, while you stood there in too-tight lingerie wondering if you looked desirable enough to stimulate his sex drive. From your perspective, all signs pointed to not likely.

Harry slowly walked toward you, his eyes exploring every inch of your body, and you leaned against the wall while fidgeting with the lingerie's shoulder straps. In the silence of his appraisal, you awkwardly shuffled your feet—it was futile to fake confidence right now.

"My forever Valentine," Harry said quietly, immediately attaching his hands to your waist.

You practically whined, then muttered, "I look ridiculous."

"You're joking, right?" He bent his knees to be eye level with you, a near-crazed look on his face. "Right?"

"It barely fits, Harry."

A slow smirk stretched his lips. "That better not be the only time you say that tonight."

You glared at him for his crude joke and said, "This is silly."

"What is?"

"This whole... rendezvous."

"I think it's fun," Harry said with a carefree shrug.

"But it's different from other times," you admitted.

"How so?" He kissed your neck, his affection warm and a welcome distraction to your disoriented thoughts. He smelled ravishing, the subtle hints of his spice and black vanilla shower cleanser putting you under a spell. A pulse of appetency made you press against him.

"My body," you said.

His hands traveled to your backside, squeezing the flesh there. "This body? The one I'd get down on my knees for?"

In one fell swoop, all your internal heat returned with a rush. "It's kind of a mess," you replied. "I haven't shaved. And my stomach looks like a wrinkly prune, so there's that."

Harry traced his thumb under the lacy hem hugging your hips. "Doesn't bother me. Prunes are delicious."

Deep down, you knew he wouldn't care. He had loved every part of you through pregnancy, with all its mind-bending changes and symptoms. If he had found you sexy then, he would appreciate your appearance now. Though it would take time for you to truly believe it.

"I just want this to be good," you murmured, resting your forehead on his firm chest.

"Hey." He lifted your head and cradled it. "We'll find a way to make this work. Let's take it slow." You nodded, and he leaned closer to whisper, "I know how to get you wet. Don't think I've forgotten."

Truthfully, you were already wet, but you didn't say anything as Harry grabbed your hand and squeezed it before guiding you to the bed. While he had been taking a shower, you had fluffed the pillows and straightened the sheets. You had even sat there and mentally filtered through what positions would be most reasonable. Sex was to be careful tonight. No need for anything crazy.

You climbed into bed, and Harry remained standing. The outline of his hardened cock pushed against his boxers. A flame ignited low in your belly—to get to have him inside you after so long was exhilarating.

When he didn't move to join you, you asked, "What are you doing?"

"Following your lead," he said. "Where do you want me?"

"Um... on your side, I guess. Next to me."

Harry didn't waste any time and got into position, his hand propping his head up. There was an expectant openness in his eyes, and you almost laughed. This was out of the ordinary, but it somehow eased your nerves.

"I want to face each other," you added. "And I... I want you to do that thing where you hold my leg up against your hip."

He hummed, his eyes flashing with something lustful. "Understood. But you're going to have to take your lingerie off."

"Right." You swallowed nervously. "I'll do that."

You stripped while Harry removed his boxers and rolled on a condom. He watched your breasts bounce free, watched the lace slide down your torso and legs. It was your armor against the reality that your body wasn't the same as the one Harry had touched for the first time. But you trusted him and his admiration for the life you brought into the world. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

You lie bare beside Harry now. His gaze turned fond, taking in all of you—no judgment, no confusion, no surprise. But why would there be? He'd been there when your pants stopped fitting during pregnancy. When you hadn't been able to shave anything below your bump. When you had needed help getting off the couch. Christ, he had seen you give birth. It didn't get much more intimate than that.

"Come here," Harry said softly. You scooted down to lie on the mattress facing him. "You're beautiful. This version of your body isn't something to dwell on. Every stretch mark, every wrinkle, every curve is a testament to your amazing ability to grow life."

You were speechless, so you just sprung forward and kissed him

"Ready?" He smiled against your mouth, and you returned it.

"Ready."

"I'm going to go slow. Tell me if it hurts." Harry grabbed his cock, holding the tip against your entrance. Without you needing to remind him, he bent your leg to rest against his hip, opening you further. He slid himself in, only an inch or two, keeping his eyes locked on yours. It was slow, like he promised, but there was a slight burning sensation. You inhaled sharply and gripped his wrist.

"Too fast?"

You moaned, half in pleasure and half in discomfort. "No, it just... feels rough. Even with the condom on."

"Okay. I won't go further."

"Maybe go deeper and it'll stop."

"No," Harry said, pulling out. "I'm not about to risk making you bleed or delaying your healing. Absolutely not."

"But—”

"But nothing. Your body's obviously not ready yet, and that's okay."

"I'm sorry," you whispered sadly.

"Don't be," he said, stroking your hair. "You thought you were healed, but it's hard to know for sure without actually having sex."

You let out a disappointed sigh. "Well, this was a bust. Back to dry humping for the foreseeable future."

"I'm not complaining." Harry rolled onto his back, then yanked the sheets over his boner. 

"You're serious?"

He patted his lap. "Hop on, baby."

Laughing, you straddled him for yet another clumsy experience. But with his determination to make it enjoyable, it would be perfectly imperfect.

——

[gf2bellamy]

I just want to say that I love all of your fics! They are so sweet and cute and 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Can I please request reader meeting Penelope at like a pottery club or art class or cafe or something and the two of them hit it off and become really good friends and reader mentions that her boyfriend is coming to pick her up and just gushes about how sweet he is and how much she loves him. And then Spencer shows up and Penelope is like “oh my god!!!”

coffee — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: absolutely loved this idea tysm for ur request ! <3

You took the last sip of your coffee, laughing loudly at the story Penelope had just told you.

“I cannot believe you actually said that,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, still grinning.

Penelope simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Someone had to say it,” she quipped, smirking as she took another sip of her now nearly empty cup.

You had met Penelope purely by accident—a mix-up at the coffee shop when the barista had mistakenly switched your orders. You could have just exchanged cups and gone on with your day, but somehow, the two of you ended up talking. And talking.

One thing led to another, and suddenly, you were sitting together at the same table like old friends.

Now, as you noticed her cup was empty too, you felt reluctant to let the moment end.

“We should do this again,” you said, tilting your head at her.

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes. Yes. Most definitely yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, already reaching across the table for your phone before you could even offer it.

“I’m going out tonight with some friends from work,” she explained as she tapped her number into your contacts. “They’re wonderful people, and we’d have so much fun. You should totally come with.”

She handed your phone back, her enthusiasm contagious. You smiled, appreciating the offer, but you shook your head apologetically as you glanced at your screen.

“Can’t,” you said. “My boyfriend’s picking me up and we're grabbing dinner together.”

At that, Penelope’s brows arched with intrigue. “Boyfriend?” she echoed, her smirk returning.

You nodded, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly. “And? Tell me about this mystery man.”

You laughed softly at her curiosity, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well… he’s kind of the sweetest person I know,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Like, the kind of person who remembers all the little things—my favorite snacks, the way I take my coffee, even the books I say I want to read but never get around to.”

Penelope let out a dreamy sigh. “Okay, I love this already. Keep going.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s ridiculously smart, but he doesn’t act like he knows everything. He’s just… thoughtful, in a way that sneaks up on you.” You glanced at your phone again, checking the time. “Like, this morning, he woke me up with pancakes. He burned the edges a little, but he still insisted on making them.”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “Okay, I’m officially obsessed with him. He sounds like a dream.”

You laughed, nodding. “He really is.”

Before Penelope could press for more details, your phone buzzed in your hand. You glanced down at the screen, your heart skipping a beat at the name flashing across it. “That’s him,” you said with a grin, slipping your phone into your pocket.

Penelope’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “Well, now I have to meet this perfect man of yours.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah,” you admitted, checking the time. “He should be outside right about now.”

And with that, the two of you stood up, walking out of the coffee shop together.

There he was—Spencer—standing just outside with his back to you, hands casually tucked into his pockets. The familiar sight of him sent a warm flutter through your chest.

“Spencer,” you called softly, excitement bubbling in your voice as you walked toward him, a wide smile spreading across your face.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his own smile instinctive—warm, genuine. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, his expression faltered. His shoulders stiffened, his smile slipping away.

Your steps slowed. “What?” you asked, brow furrowing, your arms—once ready to wrap around him—now hanging uselessly at your sides.

His gaze wasn’t on you. It was locked onto Penelope.

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Spencer wore a shocked and worried expression, while Penelope’s face was a mask of smug satisfaction.

“Uh…” you said, glancing back and forth between them, trying to decipher the sudden tension. “Spencer, this is Penelope. I met her at the coffee shop today. And Penelope, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.” You lightly touched his arm, hoping to draw his attention back to you.

And then—

“Oh my god,” Penelope suddenly squealed, her eyes practically glowing with excitement.

You turned to her, utterly bewildered.

“Spencer Reid,” she announced dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “How dare you hide this from me?”

Spencer, whose face had somehow turned even redder, mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.

Penelope, however, was having none of it. She spun toward you, pointing at him. “This?! This is your boyfriend?”

“…Yes?” you said slowly, the confusion growing.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if she had just heard the most scandalous news. “The Spencer Reid you’ve been gushing about? The one who makes you pancakes and remembers every single detail about you ?”

Your mouth opened slightly as realization dawned. “Wait. You know Spencer?”

“Oh, honey.” Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh. “Know him? I work with him. He is my Spencer.”

You blinked. “Your Spencer?”

Spencer finally let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia…”

“Reid,” she shot back with a gleeful grin.

You took a step back, looking between them, still processing. “Wait, you’re Garcia?”

Penelope gasped again, looking mock-offended. “He didn’t tell you my name? I thought we were friends now!”

Spencer rubbed his temple. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think?” she interrupted, feigning shock. “Did you not think I would love her?”

He sighed, defeated.

You, meanwhile, had fully shifted from confusion to amusement, the situation far funnier now that you understood. “In his defense, I only knew you as ‘Garcia.’”

“Well, that changes now!” Penelope declared, looping her arm through yours as if you had been best friends for years. “Come on, we have so much to talk about.”

Spencer sighed again, but there was a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he watched you two.

[mommasunshines]

Having a magical girl as a little sister was incredibly fun, terrifyingly stressful, frustratingly dirty and bloodboilingly inconvenient, all at once and usually switching between these four like a circling pendulum.

The first time my little sister came home with a weird pocket watch and a talking cat, I wanted to freak out, but she simply went to her room, threw up into her trash can four times in a row and then spent the next half hour talking about this cat that came to choose her to save the world from monsters. And that was how this weird routine began.

Since then, at least twice a week, my sister as come home smelling like an explosion, usually with bits of rubble still on her if she couldn't be bothered to transform back.

Having a magical girl in your family leads to a lot of scrubbing floors and to a lot of cooking, they burn calories like crazy.

This new routine was fine for me, I got to cheer her on, worry about her all the time when there was a monster fight, and even if I had to scold her more than once to transform back to get rid of the guts before coming home, I was mostly just glad when she came home.

Then a few months in, we discovered a caveat to her powers.

While she could kill monsters easily with her wand, it had no effect on humans. So even though she could level a sky scraper sized dinosaur with ice breath, she could not defend herself if a weird cultist summoning said dino wanted to grab her. She got away that time with an emergency teleport, but it was a shocking revelation.

Here she was, the most powerful 16 year old on the planet and she couldn't hurt a simple man.

Of course we tried to keep it a secret, if everyone knew she was powerless against people there would be folks left right and center traying to kidnap her or control her or anything like that, but rarely do plans work the way you imagine them. And eventually the secret got out.

Which brings us to now, with me standing in front of a warehouse, an hour after dinner was served. Orion had a tracker on my sister, so at least the talking cat is useful for something.

With some effort I raise the sledgehammer and knock down the door, looking around the warehouse. I ain't the strongest, but carrying an exhauseted 16 year old to bed every other day gives you a little bulk at least.

With the sledgehammer abandoned, I walk into the warehouse and pull out my frying pan, not even flinching as someone rushes at me. My sister has tried to surprise me too often, three hits with the frying pan and the man is on the floor.

Soon enough I am standing in the room where my sister is kept, holding a bloody cast iron pan and damascus steel kitchen knife. The knife will have to be sharpened after this, but I don't care. It finds its sheath in the throat of the man that had tied my sister up here, and as his body falls to the floor I sigh.

"How?" is all that Lea asks me when I undo the ropes and pulls the knife out of the man's throat.

"Looks like the no kill rule only applies to you." I grab her and pull her up, making my way out past the corpses I left in my wake, feeling just as cranky as I did when I first came here. "Now come on, our Moussaka has gone cold and my boyfriend is coming over in an hour, he is supposed to finally meet you today."

Magical girls kill monsters all the time, but they're not allowed to kill humans. But you're not a magical girl; you're her older brother.

[cherrycherryves]

MADNESS IN MANSION AU MAIN CHARACTERS !

DISCLAIMER: this is just my au to have fun with, so not everything is gonna be completely accurate or “canon!” A lot of these characters have different stories from their source materials! And also this au is mostly about friendship, love, and family! It’s just something I think is cute and fun to work on! :3 Also also! Since some of them don’t have catchphrases, I made up little quotes!

The main cast! The main line up! The main players!

More info is down below!! :D

Judge Angels — “I will sentence you!” — Dina Clark was brought in by Slenderman while on the run for killing their CEO father and most of their family’s staff. Traveling with them, their mother’s corpse neatly packed in a suitcase. They just wanted to find a safe place for their beloved mother to finally rest.

Bloody Painter — “Don’t be excited for tomorrow.” — Helen Otis sought out Slenderman after realizing the police were hot on his trail. The pressures of life had built up, and all he wanted to do was create a new world from scratch. One filled to the brim with beauty and art. The world will bend to his will.

Ticci Toby — “Follows…” — After moving from Wisconsin to Alabama, Toby Roger’s life spiraled out of control. He had endured countless hardships, and the death of his sister was more than he could take. After burning it all to the ground, Slenderman gave him a place to seek refuge.

Jeff the Killer — “Go to sleep.” — Some people are dealt a shitty hand. Jeffery Woods’ life was standard, but that didn’t make it easy. In high school, things only got worse. At the hands of his peers he was burned alive. He survived, but his mind had completely shattered. He wants to pick up the pieces.

Homicidal Liu — “Today’s a better day.” — Liu Woods had always done his best to be a proper older sibling. He wanted nothing more to protect his younger brother. Maybe that’s why he barely fought back when his brother attempted to kill him. There was a moment of hesitation, and in that moment he ran. Slenderman had found him bleeding out, he promised he could keep him alive.

Eyeless Jack — “Do no harm.” — Jack Nyras had his whole life ahead of him. He was at university studying to be a doctor. However, unexpected things can happen at any moment. What was supposed to be a college party had turned into nothing short of cult activity, Jack being their ultimate sacrifice. He doesn’t remember much after their torture, only that Slenderman had found him bloodied and fundamentally changed in the forest.

Kate the Chaser — “Don’t look…or it takes you.” — Sometimes Slenderman sees potential. Slenderman saw great potential in Kate Milens. But not just anyone can become a proxy. Kate had gone through multiple trials without even knowing, always coming out favorably in the Slenderman’s opinion. Being so close to Slenderman, however, comes with symptoms… consequences.

Nina the Killer — “Go to sleep, my prince!” — Childhood friends with Liu, Jeff, and their friend Jane, Nina Hopkins was always a bright and cheery force of nature. Despite her efforts to get along with her peers, rumors had a way of creeping up. It was a good thing she had her friends to lean on. She always had her friends. She’d always have her friends. Friends don’t give up on each other.

Eyeless Lulu — “Gimme your eyes.” — Lucille-Tiffany Greatfeild never had luck making friends. It seemed no matter what she did, her peers found her weird. Growing up, she was a lonely child, however, going to college filled her with determination to break out of her shell and at least make a few acquaintances. She was befriended by a group of peers who were seemingly kind and caring, but sometimes things are too good to be true. Having heard of an new internet legend, they pressured Lulu into playing a stupid game, performing a silly ritual. They all paid the price.

Clockwork — “Time’s up.” — Natalie Ouellette came from a broken home. Ever since she was young, she was starkly aware of how unfair life can be. She had poor health as a child, often in and out of doctor offices due to various reasons, a bad flu or broken bones. Every time she exited the hospital, she heard the tick in her head, like her time was running out, being wasted, rotting away. As she grew up, this tick only got louder. Time was against her, and the abuse was getting worse. She had to do something. And she did do something. And then she ran.

BEN Drowned — “You’ve met with a terrible fate!” — Benjamin Lawman was a very lively boy. He loved making friends, drinking soda, and of course, frequenting arcades and internet cafes! Life for him was simple, it was perfect! But there are things that are out of your control, circumstances one is born into. Divorce is hard for the whole family to go through, but Ben had hope, an optimistic outlook. The look in his father’s eyes was scary as they drove to the lake alone, but his father was a rational man. Surely there was a rational explanation for all of this.

Sally — “Wanna play?” — Sally Williams had just turned 12! Her birthday party was held in Loblolly’s very own, new and shiny park! The year was 1973 and the summer air was warm and inviting. Sally had just finished opening her gifts, her favorite being a new teddy bear from her mom and dad. A true friend, soft and kind. While many kids showed up to her party, they didn’t have good intentions. One girl suggested they play a game before Sally got to the piñata. They blindfolded her, giggling and exclaiming, “We’ll guide you!” Really, they just wanted to see if they could get her lost. What they didn’t account for was the truck barreling down the road as they told her to cross it.

Lazari Swann — “I can do this!” — Lazari Swann never knew her mother and father. Her mother had died during childbirth, leaving her to the care of foster homes. She did her best. She made the best of any situation, always selfless, always helpful. But as she grew up, it gnawed at the back of her mind. Her father… where had he gone? Who was he? What did he look like? She only had one clue, a picture from her mother’s photo album with a location marked: Loblolly, Alabama. She’d get her answers one way or another.

Masky — “Always watches, no eyes.” — Tim Wright is a man of few words now. Not many know of how he came to be so reliable in the Slenderman’s eye, why he’s so guarded and keeps to himself, why he’s so close with Brian. They just know that his word is to be trusted, he knows what he’s doing. He is regarded as the most capable human in the mansion, and despite his attempts to keep everyone at a distance, many of the mansion’s inhabitants look to him for guidance.

Hoodie — “Can’t run.” — Brian Thomas is just as reliable, but because of his elusive nature, many don’t know how to read him quite right. He is more personable than Tim, handling most of the talking when the two of them are together. Brian is easy going, despite his circumstances, and can even crack a few light hearted jokes. But no one really knows much about him. Still, people in the mansion recognize his survivability and will take his guidance if Tim isn’t around.

Nurse Ann — “It won’t hurt… much.” — In the 1800s, there was a hospital in the woods of Loblolly, and Ann Lusen Mia worked there. She was a dutiful nurse, very caring and dedicated to her job. She believed in the good of humanity, and cherished being able to care for the sick and injured. A doctor within the hospital, a colleague of hers, informed her that he was working on a new method of care and asked her to be a part of it. She agreed, enthusiastic for the progress of medicine. Little did she know she would be the experiment. As she felt herself dying, she pleaded with any entity she could to help her, save her, and that was enough for Zalgo to offer her a deal.

Laughing Jack — “Round and round the mulberry bush…!” — The Laughing Jack is a mystery to many. He is a demon, taking the form of a monochrome clown with many nonsensical traits. He speaks in riddles and rhymes for the most part, always eccentric and mind-bending. He thoroughly enjoys being a nuisance to humans, a pest, a bother, but when it comes to more sensitive people or children, he can actually be quite a sweetheart. His morals are unknown to anyone as he is not tied to Slenderman or Zalgo and acts on his own accord. He seems to favor Slenderman though, for whatever reason, and so he has become a trusted ally!

Slenderman — “…” — The Slenderman’s origins are unknown. He has existed for thousands of years. After a gruesome battle with the underworld’s ruler, Zalgo, Slenderman was severely weakened. The battle ended in a stalemate, though it was surely in Zalgo’s favor. Too close to a victory for Slenderman’s liking. At the end of their battle, Slenderman had used most of his energy to lock Zalgo in the underworld dimension for good, but his seal wasn’t perfect. Many zalgoid creatures can still access earth, but as long as it’s not Zalgo himself, he has time. He started taking in lost and weary souls in hopes of building an army. He feeds off negative energy, his mansion feeds off negative energy, the forest feeds off negative energy. But what he didn’t expect was that these beings, human and possessed and undead alike, have started making him feel. He cares for them. And this care might be just what he needs to get rid of Zalgo for good.

[ashwhowrites]

I’m so happy to see you open request again! I’ve been missing you so much! 🩷🩷

For Promet list! (I think I spell right?)

Eddie x fem!reader ; 18. "I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" 5. "You're cute when you blush"

I hope this is what you wanted. Thank you for requesting!

A fluff short blurb

Pancakes and friends

Eddie groaned as his head pounded. From the taste of alcohol on his breath, he had a good feeling he had way too much to drink the night before.

He remembered being at the hideout with his friends, Y/N on his arm, and rounds of drinks. But nothing after. He didn't remember getting home, getting into bed, or how his clothes were changed. He shoved his face deeper into his pillows, surrounding himself with the smell of his best friend's perfume.

It was common for Y/N to spend the night, especially after a night of drinking. Eddie figured she was the one who helped him get home and into bed. Most of the time, when he woke up hungover, she was already gone. He didn't blame her, he could sleep until the evening if no one woke him up. The selfish part of him wished she stayed. He always wondered what it would be like to wake up next to her and cuddle in bed all day long.

"Rise and shine!" Wayne called from outside the door, giving it a few knocks. Eddie groaned at the sound but slowly rolled out of bed. He shivered as his feet hit the cold floor. His dirty clothes were nearly put away in his hamper, a clear sign that Y/N was the one who changed him before bed.

He threw on a random shirt from his closet and didn't bother to put on pants, boxers were enough. He held his head as he walked out, the smell of breakfast filled the small trailer. Eddie walked with his eyes mostly closed as he stumbled into the kitchen and took a seat.

"And he lives!" Y/N teased, the sound of her voice stirred Eddie awake.

"Oh! You're here, I thought you left," Eddie smiled, standing up as he walked over to the stove.

"Nope, just making pancakes," she smiled, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"How bad was I last night?" Eddie whispered

"Not too bad. You did give me a strip tease. Which was helpful since I didn't have to change you," she laughed.

Eddie looked at her, mortified, his face and neck heating up. "No, I didn't," Eddie prayed.

"No, you didn't," she laughed, "You're cute when you blush." She winked as she softly popped his nose. Eddie blushed harder as she turned around.

"Oh, thanks," Eddie coughed. He tried to pretend as if his heart wasn't racing as he sat down at the table.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[trevuorzegras]

cowboy!quinn x reader | the only mistake .ᐟ

the way back — zach bryan 🧺

authors note | i am going to try, and be more active, i promise! a lot going on currently, i apologize for the lack of content.

also thank you for 400 followers!

@wnderify @star2fishmeg ♥︎

Quinn was sure of everything he did. From the way he carried himself, to how he preformed during shows. He was as confident as they came.

This though? This was the only thing he was unsure of. Quinn made no mistakes. None. Almost everyone he met saw him as this perfect man, the man people envisioned themselves with someday. Now, this had Quinn questioning everything he had once known.

౨ৎ

Y/N jumped as Quinn slammed his larger hands down against their kitchen table, “I don’t need you on my ass all the damn time!”

All she could do was stare at him, shocked, and scared. Quinn was the quiet type, even when he held his head high. Yes, he was confident. That was a fact, but he had never been the type to raise his voice, especially not at his Ol’ Lady.

Before Quinn can ever register what he had just done, Y/N was already muttering apologies as tears began to fall from her flushed cheeks.

His eyes snapped towards her, the anger that once filled him vanishing quickly. He took a step towards her, only for her to take a step back. In that moment, Quinn had realized just what he had done.

౨ৎ

When Quinn had gotten home from work later that night, Y/N was nowhere to be found. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop replaying their fight in his head. It was like a record stuck on repeat, and he had no idea how to stop it.

He shouldn’t have left her. He knew that, but he wanted to give her space. He had never raised his voice at her before, and he knew she’d need time.

Quinn was raised to be respectful to everyone, especially to those you love. God he was such an idiot. Y/N was the woman he loved most, and he was pushing her away like a dumbass.

౨ৎ

Quinn couldn’t think straight for the days following their fight. Y/N had been gone for three days now, and he genuinely started to think he was going insane.

Though, eventually, she turned up. He wasn’t sure where she had been, and hell he didn’t care. He just wanted her safe, he needed her to be safe.

His eyes followed her from his place on the small brown sofa as she opened the front door. She seemed to be looking around, checking to see if he was home, making his heart ache. He watched as she let out a shaky breath when their eyes met, his heart breaking from the sight alone.

౨ৎ

Y/N ended it that night, though he couldn’t blame her. She had put her faith in him, and he ruined it. To some, yelling isn’t a huge deal, but to her? It was the biggest deal. Growing up with a family like hers was not easy, but allowing yourself to love again? even harder. Yet she loved him. Loved. He wasn’t sure if she could look at him the same, let alone love him.

His performance began slipping, rapidly. He wasn’t riding as good as he should. He just overall was not focused on anything - though how could he be? He lost her. He lost the person he loved most in life.

No one had ever seen Quinn so distracted before, he had been doing shows since he was 14, and had never been so distant from reality. His mind was somewhere else, that was clear to anyone.

His mother, Ellen, had been the first to notice it. His smile no longer reached his eyes, his smile no longer seemed to be genuine. Everything that once came so natural had become a chore to him. The sport he loved seemed to become a chore right before his eyes.

That’s when she learned just why he was acting the way he was. Quinn was fully convinced he was going to marry Y/N. Except now, one simple mistake ruined every chance at his perfect future, his perfect wife.

Now she had just been a distant memory. A constant reminder of just how easy it was to lose everything.

[robertsfloyd]

Begin Again

Chapter Two

A riding accident leaves you broken, mentally and physically. Your mother thinks the best move for you is to return to your grandfathers ranch, the place where you fell in love with riding.

But your grandfather has a new ranch hand. A hot new ranch hand. A ranch hand who just so happens to be your childhood enemy. Jake fucking Seresin.

Enemies to lovers, cowboy au

For most of the drive to Montana, you had been asleep. Head against the headrest, eyes shut, you dreamt. Dreamt of Morgan Ranch, of the last time you had been there.

You took Chewie out of he stable, put him on the crossties and tacked him up in the English saddle you had spent so long saving for. It looked so strange on him, but it got the job done.

Your grandpa was waiting outside of the barn. It was just him back then, and you didn't understand how he was doing it all. You helped where you could, but you spent most of your days riding Chewie.

"What's this?" You asked as you looked at the hose behind him.

Tall and gorgeous, lovely white fur and gray legs. His ears were forward, dark eyes inquisitive as he looked towards Chewie. A red ribbon was in his plaited mane, something you knew your grandfather hadn't done himself. A bow, matching red to the ribbon, was wrapped around his neck.

"He's yours, Smidge." He held the lead rope out towards you.

Yours. Yours?

You swallowed thickly as you threw Chewie's reins over his neck. "Mine?" You asked as you stepped forwards.

"Yours, Midge. A proper show jumper."

You took the lead rope from your grandpa's hands. "What's his name?" You asked, wrapping the rope around your hand before quickly unwrapping it.

"You can name him whatever you want."

"Percy." It came to you almost immediately. He looked like a Perseus, big and muscular, powerful and strong. Percy just suited him. "Hi, Percy," you said as you stroked his nose.

Your grandfather strode past you. He grabbed Chewie's reins, pulling his head up from the grass he was munching on. Your breath shook as you continued to pat Percy's neck. "He'll take your far. He'll get you out of Silver Ridge."

It was like he had looked into your brain and plucked out the only dream you'd ever had. Out of Silver Ridge. Making a name for yourself. How far could he take you? All the way to the top, until you were touching the stars.

"Go and put him away, Chew still needs exercising."

You jolted awake as your mother opened the car door. "We're here," she said, handing you your crutches.

Here. If it was up to you, you would have been anywhere else. Percy would have been back in Colorado, being taken care of by someone that wasn't Ben Ritter and you wouldn't be feeling so awful about being here.

Gritting your teeth, you climbed out of the car. "That's it, Midge," your mom said like you were a scared animal or a toddler. "Up to the house, now."

You bit back the I know, that threatened to spill from your lips. It would have been angry and rude, would have had your mother abandoning you to walk over there by yourself. As much as you wanted to do it by yourself, to prove that you could, you knew you couldn't.

You would fall flat on your face and never get back up.

I weren't going to get back up.

Your mom stayed close to you. "Steady," she said and you swallowed the angry remark. You needed her help, not to chase her away.

One crutch in front of the other. Bad foot, good foot, rest. One crutch in front of the other. Bad foot, good foot, rest. One crutch in front of the other. Bad foot, good foot, rest.

It was a good rhythm you had going. Slow but steady. You weren't going to fall. You weren't going to fall and never get back up.

But then your mother abandoned you. A small hey from the guy beside the bar and she was gone. Gone! You were going to fall and you weren't going to get back up.

One crutch in front of the other. Good foot, bad foot, rest.

"Little Jakey Seresin?"

Your stomach dropped. Not him. Not the guy that used to chase you through the barn holding spiders. Not the guy that used to rub chilli peppers on your drinking glass.

Not him.

You kept going. Didn't turn around, didn't make pleasantries with the guy who had made your summers at Morgan Ranch hell. Little Jakey Seresin. The nickname had to hurt. He had spent so many years trying to shake it, just for your mom to bring it back.

The woman was your hero.

It wasn't long until she returned to your side. "You doing okay, Midge?" She had asked, hands out as if you were going to fall at any moment and she was going to catch you.

"Great." Your voice was strained as you pushed through how exhausting this was. You hadn't even gotten to the gravel path yet.

But then you stopped. You listened as Jake fucking Seresin got your horse out of the trailer. Was this worse than Ben Ritter? Maybe. No, Ben couldn't help being cruel when he was in the saddle. Jake couldn't help being cruel to you. But he'd never do anything to hurt Percy or any other creature at the ranch.

The second Percy stepped off of the trailer, you wanted to bolt. You wanted to run and get as far away from him as you could. Your own fucking horse, and you couldn't stand to be near him.

"Come on, Midge," your mom said gently as you took another step forward. Nearly there, just the gravel path between you and the house.

This was the hard bit.

The second your crutch hit the gravel, it wobbled. The little stones beneath your crutch shifted as you tried to go forward, nearly sending you to the floor. It was damn terrifying, but you didn't let it show.

One crutch in front of the other. Bad foot, good foot, rest.

The moment your grandpa stepped out of the house, gray hair hidden beneath a black Stetson, you wanted to drop to your knees and sob. He was the last person you wanted to see you like this, see you so... damaged. A far cry from the child that used to show jump his prized cow pony.

"Hi, Smidge." He looked at you with such pity in your eyes, you hated it.

"Hi, grandpa," you managed.

He waited on the porch as you slowly made your way towards him. With each step on the gravel, it got easier to navigate. The stones stopped disappearing from under your crutches and you got steadier.

Once you made it to the porch, there was the questions of the steps. Steps. You hadn't done steps since your fall. All of your necessities back home had been moved downstairs, leaving you no reason to try and go up.

Helplessly, you looked to your mom.

Grasping your arm, she took your crutches and placed them against the porch railing. "Ready?" She asked.

No. No, you couldn't do it. Two little steps and you couldn't fucking do it. There was nobody on your other side, nobody to catch you if you fell. And, if you fell, you'd never get back up again.

You'd never get back up again.

"I gotcha."

Large hands slipped around your arm, steadying you on your feet. Your breath shook as you looked to the side, looked at Jake Seresin. Last time he had touched you...

"Hey, Midge," he said as he met your eye.

Your mouth was dry, stopping you at attempting a response. All you had to do was say hello, and you couldn't. You couldn't even do that.

"C'mon," he said, finally breaking eye contact. "One foot in front of the other."

Your bad foot touched the first step. Your grip grew tight on your mom and Jake as you pushed yourself up. Everything hurt, but you wouldn't let it show. Not in front of your mom. Not in front of Jake.

One foot in front of the other.

This should have been easy. You should have been able to run up and down these stairs without issue. You shouldn't have been relying about Jake fucking Seresin for hep.

"There you go," he said as you made it to the second step. You really wanted to punch him.

Your mother stepped up beside you and your body jolted. Things were already uneven with how much taller Jake was, but he was suddenly too short, too low. "I'm here, I'm here," he mumbled and stepped up beside you.

Just one more to go. Just one more step and you could collapse into the seat beneath the kitchen window and not have to worry about getting up again. You could do it!

You couldn't fucking do it.

"What're we doing, Smidge?" Your grandpa asked as he came to stand in front of you.

Halfway there. You could either give up, go back down, admit defeat and disappear off the face of the earth. Or you could use the last bit of energy you had to get up this last step.

If you fell, you'd never get back up again.

Releasing a shuddering breath, you let go of Jake. At the same time, you took a step. Your hand flew forward, grabbing your grandpa's arm as your mom followed you up the final step.

"Well done, Midge," your mother said in that sweetly condescending voice as Jake handed you your crutches. If everybody started clapping, you were going to scream.

Regaining the little bit of independence you were allowed, you hobbled towards the seat beneath the kitchen window. The cushions called out to you as you sat down and allowed yourself to breath.

You were never going to do stairs again.

"Good to see you, Midge," Jake called, wearing that cocky smile you knew so well and hated so much.

"Bite me."

Your grandpa sat beside you. He raised his hand, as if to affectionately pat your knee, but thought better of it. For that, you were grateful.

"We're gonna get you back in the saddle, Smidge," he said gently.

No matter how gentle it was, you were ready to panic.

There were too many people around you, standing too close. Your mom, staring at you from the top step of the porch with so much pity in her eyes. Jake Seresin, leaning against the porch railing and just watching you.

Even when you didn't reply, they were still watching you. Your mouth became dry and your tongue suddenly felt too big for your mouth. "Can I have some water?" You asked as you desperately looked around.

"I'll get it," your mom said and strode past you, into the house.

But Jake still stood there. He looked between yourself and your grandpa, and pushed away from the porch. "I better get back to work," he said.

Gripping the brim of his hat, he tipped it towards you and strode off.

Suddenly, all of your attention was on your grandfather. "Grandpa, how could you hire him?" You cried. "You know he used to torment me, right? Like, you remember when I got stuck up the tree by the river? Whose fault do you think that was?"

Your grandpa rolled your eyes. "He's changed, Smidge. I wouldn't be able to keep the ranch running if it wasn't for Jake."

Releasing a sigh, you sat back.

The ranch stretched out before you. Fields and acres of horses and cattle before your eyes, fields and acres behind. There was a time where you could gallop from the gate into Morgan Ranch to the river at the other end of the property. There was a time where you wanted to do that, where the thought of it didn't send fear shooting through you.

"Hungry?" Your grandpa asked as he stood up.

You nodded, your eyes landing on Jake. He didn't look like that the last time you saw him. He had been scrawny then, Stetson looking out of place on his head.

He'd bulked out since then, shirt seeming to strain against his chest. The top few buttons were open, revealing hair beneath. It was a little ridiculous, actually. Why not get a shirt that fitted?

He's changed, Smidge.

No, he hadn't changed. His too small shirt was only proof of that.

Alone on the seat, you watched as Jake strode back towards you. Shit, what did he want now? He clasped his hands together and leaned against the porch railing once again. "So," he started, his hands bouncing. "How have you been?"

Your eyebrows rose. When you glanced at your leg, he did the same thing. "Great. Just peachy," you mumbled and shoved your hands into your pockets.

He gave you something of a nod and pushed away from the porch. "I'll... leave you to it."

Good. Piss off.

You didn't mean to watch him walk back towards the barn, didn't mean to stare at his ass in his jeans. It was a nice ass, but that wasn't surprising.

You thought Jake Seresin was out of your life the day you left Montana. You never thought you'd have to see his stupid fucking face again.

But now, he was closer than ever.

***

It shouldn't have been surprising that you didn't want to see him. He shouldn't have been surprised that you wore a scowl when you looked at his face. Did you even realise you were scowling at him? You didn't think so.

Jake didn't glance back as he made his way over to the barn. His broom was still against the door, but sweeping the walkway seemed less important now. Grabbing the broom, he put it back into the tool store and made his way up to the stair, into the room above the barn.

Jake's room. When Chester first offered him the job, he made it his mission to fix up the old room above the barn. It was better than the trailer by the river. closer to the horses (just in case anything happened).

It had been months of him and Javy fixing up the room. They fixed the holes in the floor, put new shutters on the one window, shutters that actually opened and closed, and painted the walls. The furniture was from garage sales or things they found on the side of the room. They took them back to the barn, fixed them up, painted them, and put them in Jakes room.

Grabbing his phone from on top of the drawers beside his bed, Jake dialled Javy's number. It never took Javy very long to pick up, and it was only a matter of seconds before Jake heard his voice.

"Cactus, five minutes," Jake said.

"You know it's the middle of the room, right?"

"Five minutes," he reiterated.

Javy released a sigh. "Fine. Five minutes."

Jake grabbed the jacket hanging over the back of his bedframe and made his way out of his room. Brisket called for him as he walked past, and he took a moment to stroke his nose. "Makin' friends, huh?" He asked, glancing at Percy. Still in that navy blue rug.

Hanging his jacket over the back of Brisket's stable door, Jake stepped towards Percy. He approached, pulled open the stable door and stepped inside. Percy didn't protest as Jake unclipped the front of his rug. Unhooking the straps beneath his belly, Jake pulled the rug back, folded it in half and rested it on Percy's rear end.

When he went to unclip the strap around his back legs, Percy kicked out. Jake stepped back, turned his attention to Percy's head. Percy's ear's were pinned back. "Okay," Jake said gently and stepped closer to his head. "Let's try that again."

He scratched at Percy's shoulders, watched as his ears went forward again. "That's it," Jake muttered, moving down his back. Percy kept his ears forward, didn't pin them back against his head. He kept scratching down his back as he unclipped the first leg strap. "That's it," he said against and pulled the strap from around his leg. "You're doing great, Perce."

There was just one more strap to undo. Jake didn't risk walking behind Percy, walked around his front and began scratching down his back once again. It was quicker this time, easier to unclip the strap around his leg. Percy let his ears go back when Jake stopped scratching, but he didn't kick out.

Jake pulled the rug from his back. Folding it up, he rested it over Percy's stable door and stepped out.

His five mintues were almost up.

Grabbed his jacket, he rushed out of the barn. Chester could cope without him for the afternoon. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he made his way over to his truck, climbed in and sped away.

Morgan Ranch. It wasn't supposed to become his home, but it had. It was his home, better than anything he'd had before. Chester was good to him, he helped Jake as much as Jake helped him.

At that time in the afternoon, The Drunken Cactus was empty. Just one truck outside of it, Javy's truck. The bag of animal feed in the back suggested Jake had caught him on his way back from town.

Striding into The Drunken Cactus, Jake scanned the room for Javy. He sat in their usual booth, drink in front of them and hat pulled over his face.

"You're late."

By only two minutes.

Sitting back, Jake sipped his drink as Javy pulled his hat from his head. He waited for Javy to look at him before he spoke.

He said your name. "Midge Morgan."

Javy's eyebrows went up. "What about her?"

"She's back."

Javy's eyes went wide. "Midge fuckin' Morgan? She's back?" He asked, surprise in his voice. "What was it she said to you before she left?"

"THat she never wanted to see me again and she hoped I got hit by a bus?"

"That she never wanted to see you again and she hoped you got hit by a bus, that's it," Javy echoed, grin on his face. "And now you work for her grandpa. Fuck, man. She's gonna eat you alive."

The old you would have eaten him alive. You were still in there, just a feisty but unable to do anything about it. You would have hated him more if you knew he pitied you.

"She's got her fancy show jumping horse with her," He said as he sipped the amber liquid in his glass.

"Think she's gonna compete out here?"

Jake didn't mean to chuckle as he shook his head. "She's not gonna be competing any time soon," he mumbled and looked down at his glass. "She's broken, Javy. The Midge bark is still there, but she hasn't got the bite."

Javy released a sigh. "Don't you worry, buddy. The old Midge will come back. Denver couldn't have changed her that much."

But it wasn't Denver that changed her, Jake knew.

Jake and Javy finished their drinks and went their separate ways. Javy climbed into his truck and headed off to his daddy's ranch, and Jake headed into town.

He didn't need anything, but he didn't want to go back to the ranch. He didn't want to see you like that. Maybe he was selfish, but he didn't want to see the person he had been in love with since he was sixteen in such a broken state.

You, the girl he hadn't been able to forget about.

No matter how much he tried to forget about you, how many other women he took to his bed, you were always on his mind. Every time he went into the ranch office, when he saw the drawings of your dream for the ranch, you were all he could think about.

And now you were back. You were back and he was still in love with you.

Jake wandered around in a daze, picked up things he didn't really need. A cap, a new belt, a book of military aircrafts. He didn't need any of it, but it was a good distraction for you.

Eventually, he had to head home. He waited out the clock, waited until he had to go home and feed the horses before climbing into his truck and speeding away.

He pulled in beside your overly expensive trailer and climbed out. Leaving his new stuff on the front seat, he made his way into the barn, into the feed room.

Shit, what did Percy eat? He was some big, fancy show jumper; there was no way he ate the same stuff Jake fed Brisket. He probably had all these additional vitamins and supplements that Brisket didn't need.

Setting out all of the feed buckets, Jake left the barn. He made his way across the ranch and into the house. In through the kitchen, where Stephanie was helping Chester with dinner.

"Hey, Jake," Stephanie called, not turning her head to look at him. "Dinner shouldn't be too long now."

"Thanks," he said, leaning against the door. "Where's Midge?"

Chester finally turned towards him. "Bedroom, but you best leave her alone."

"I'll be quick."

Jake walked through the house, past the stairs, through the little door and into the annex. Once upon a time it was an unused spare bedroom, the dusty room where you used to play spin the bottle as kids.

You were probably hating it in there.

His fist knocked against the door. "Go away!" You shouted from the other side, but Jake pushed open the door anyway.

You were furious when Jake showed his face. He couldn't help but be surprised that you didn't grab the glass on your bedside table and throw it at him.

"Hey, Midge," he began, leaning against the doorframe.

"You have two seconds to get out before I make you."

Jake swallowed. "Percy's feet," he began. "What am I giving him?"

When you stared at him, he could swear your eye twitched. "MOM!" You shouted and Stephanie became running. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your car keys and held them out in front of you.

As soon as she had made it into the room, Stephanie took the keys from your hand. She reached out, felt your forehead, but you pushed her away. "Can you help Jake with Percy's food, please?" You asked and Stephanie nodded.

Jake followed your mother back out of the house. "Does he have anything really fancy?" He asked as he followed her out to the car.

Stephanie shook her head. "Not now. Not while he's not competing," she answered as she pressed a button on the keys. The boot of the car opened on its own. "He'll have the same as the rest of the horses, but he needs his painkillers."

Pain killers. So whatever happened to you hadn't just happened to you. Jake sucked in a breath as Stephanie reached into the car and pulled out a little black bag. "There's treats in there, pop a few in his food," she said and placed the bag in his hands.

The smile she gave him was charming, beautiful. Stephanie was hot, there was no doubt about it. But she was nothing compared to you.

Jake spent the last six years trying to forget about you. Now you were back, and he didn't have a chance. Not even your hot mom could distract him.

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taglist (i'm tagging people that commented btw!! if you don't wanna be tagged, let me know!)

@ride-em-cowboy

@literal-tv-menace

@averyhotchner

@illisea-library

[thaniabb]

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Is to fall in deep - F.W

- ‘into you’ by Ariana grande’ -

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warnings : fluff ( bare with me ), no use of y/n

summary : a trip to Hogsmeade with the older twin was supposed to be a simple, friendly outing. But when snow began to fall, it turned into a playful battle of enchanted snowballs and breathless laughter. Amidst the chaos, they tumbled into a snowbank, laughter fading into a charged silence. Friendship had melted away, replaced by something deeper, undeniable, and impossible to ignore.

AN : i just can’t stop writing fluff, but i promise i’m working on something new!!

“all i wanna do, is to fall in deep”

The trip to Hogsmeade with Fred Weasley had started, as most things with him did, with wild ideas and contagious laughter.

It was supposed to be just a carefree day between friends — exploring shops, sampling sweets at Honeydukes, and causing harmless mayhem. But when the snow began to fall, the day shifted into something more magical than either of them could've expected.

Snowflakes swirled around them like enchanted confetti, landing on rosy cheeks and tangled scarves.

Fred, naturally, couldn't resist turning the wintry scene into a snowball war. "You think you can hide from me, love?" he called out, eyes glinting with mischief as he hurled a snowball her way.

"Fred Weasley!" she gasped as the icy projectile hit her shoulder. "You're done for!"

And with that, the chase began. Snowballs flew, laughter echoed, and spells were cast to enchant snow to dodge or multiply mid-flight.

Passersby shook their heads, smiling at the duo whose joy seemed to shimmer through the crisp air. Her heart raced as she ducked behind a barrel, gathering snow in gloved hands, only to find Fred already behind her.

"Caught you," he whispered, eyes alight with victory.

Before she could respond, he lunged, sending them both tumbling into a snowbank. The cold bit through their clothes, but the warmth of his body pressed against hers dulled its sting.

Breathless laughter gave way to silence as their eyes met. His usual teasing expression softened into something unfamiliar yet unmistakable.

The world around them blurred. Snowflakes melted against flushed skin, and the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken realization. His gaze dipped to her lips, and in that instant, the playful battle was forgotten.

"Fred," she murmured, heart pounding.

"Yeah?" His voice was quieter than she'd ever heard it.

Neither of them moved for a moment, but then she leaned in. Or maybe he did.

Their lips met in a kiss that felt like bottled lightning — warm, intense, and utterly disorienting. His gloved hand cupped her jaw, thumb tracing her cheek as though committing the moment to memory. The kiss deepened, the snow around them forgotten.

“been waitin’ and waitin’ for you to make a move”

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingled in the frosty air.

Fred's forehead rested against hers, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Blimey," he whispered. "Didn't see that coming."

She smiled, dazed and breathless. "Me neither."

"So," he said, voice returning to its familiar mischievous tone, "guess we're rubbish at being just friends, huh?"

"Completely rubbish," she agreed.

"Good," Fred said, stealing another kiss, this one quicker but just as electrifying. "Because being just friends sounds awfully dull now."

The snow beneath them was cold, but the warmth between them lingered.

And as they lay there, wrapped in the magic of a day gone wonderfully awry, she realized that life with Fred Weasley would never be simple—and she'd never want it to be.

“ ‘cause i’m so into you”

[phoenix-eclipses]

Chocolate Covered Love

Picking your nephew up from school three days a week was an easy job. You got to spend more time with your nephew, but one of the benefits you weren’t aware of was his teacher.

Teacher! Koushi Sugawara x GN! Reader

5.2k words

Warnings/notes: fluffy, maybe OOC idk I've never written Suga, one of Suga's students is your nephew, Valentine's Day special

@nectardaddy asked for Suga fic recs and I wasn't sure which they had read, so I decided just to make my own <3

When you had first agreed to pick up your nephew after school, you had never considered where it would lead you. Your sister had just started a job that would create conflict with her picking up your nephew, and your brother-in-law could only do so on Thursdays and Fridays due to his own work schedule, so you were the next option they thought of before falling onto a babysitter or after school program. With the promise of monetary compensation and more time with your nephew, you took up the offer in a heartbeat. 

The first day you arrived was the most difficult. While they had been informed of you being another trusted individual to pick up your nephew, there was a more thorough process to ensure your identity before you could welcome him into your waiting arms. But the smile on his face when he saw you made it all worth it. 

It soon became routine, the receptionist would welcome you every day you’d pick him up and you’d leave with him in your arms, heading to your sister’s house to spend time with him before she got home. 

One day though, when you arrived the receptionist simply told you to head into the classroom as your nephew was busy talking with his teacher and may be a moment. 

“Mr. Sugawara will know you’re not some kidnapper if you’ve made it this far,” was all she waved you off with when you voiced your concerns. Left with no other option, you found yourself for the first time heading to the classroom. It was what you would expect for an elementary class, decorations scattered around the room with different lessons. The whiteboard covered with a lesson, soon to be erased due to the end of the day. Over to the side, a teacher’s desk was set where you could see your nephew engaged with a conversation with his teacher. It was mostly one sided, your nephew rambling on as his teacher listened.

You found yourself awkwardly standing in the doorway. From a distance, you find your eyes entranced by the teacher, a small grin on his face while he listens intently to whatever your nephew happened to be rambling about. It was only when you had to squeeze out of the way as a child raced out of the room that you were able to move your eyes away from the man briefly. It only took another moment before ‘Mr. Sugawara’ found his eyes landing on you, which makes your eyes meet his for the first time. He gives a smile, but there’s some confusion laced in his expression as he stands up fully. His attention on you shifts your nephew’s focus as well and you soon find him running towards you, barely giving you a chance to prepare before he launches himself at you. When he’s safely held in your arms, his teacher stands before you, the confusion mostly gone with the familiarity your nephew greeted you with. 

“Hello, I had heard Kenji was getting picked up by someone else, but I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet. I’m Koushi Sugawara.” He offered a small bow and a bright smile, a slight bit of mirth in his eyes watching your nephew happily stay in your arms. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sugawara,” you gave him your name and explained your relation to Kenji which he gave a small, understanding hum. 

“It’s nice to meet you, but I suppose you must be wanting to go now, have a good day,” he finishes his statement with your name, the sound sending a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You give a small bow to him, holding tight onto your nephew while doing so, before leaving the building. 

It’s not until your sister gets home from her job that you complain to her for the lack of warning about your nephew’s teacher. His very, very attractive elementary school teacher. 

You had originally hoped that would be the first, and only time, you’d find yourself standing before his teacher. While he was definitely your type, you were embarrassed to even admit to anyone besides your sister that you found your nephew’s teacher attractive. Fate would not have it your way however, as soon everyday you’d find yourself back in the classroom picking up your nephew and speaking to his teacher. Overtime, you find conversations flowing easier and even head into the class naturally without being instructed to. 

This routine with him fell in so naturally that when you walked into the classroom one day to find a sub in his place, the only thought that went through your mind was how you didn’t have any way to contact him in case something was wrong. You left that day, your nephew in your arms, and a slight sour taste in your mouth. 

The next day, it was with some embarrassment that you arrived at the school with a thermos filled with soup. It wasn’t anything special, you’d never claim to be a cook, but you spent your day on call with your mom to try and recreate her recipe that she always cooked for you and your sister when sick. You had spent some time before leaving your place pondering on whether or not to actually bring it. There was no guarantee that he was absent because he was sick, there were plenty of reasons someone could miss a day of work, a funeral, an injury. You also didn’t have any guarantee that he was back to the school today either, there was a possibility you were bringing this thermos of soup just to walk into the classroom and see the sub in his spot once again. 

Those thoughts were difficult to toss out, sticking in your mind even as you walked in the doors and greeted the receptionist. She didn’t even comment on the thermos, simply giving you a wave as you walked to the classroom as normal. The door was open, welcoming you in and immediately you see the man in question, crouching down while talking to your nephew. You find yourself standing in the doorway, just like the first time you ever saw him, studying his form as if something would pop out and confirm whether or not he was sick. This only ended when his voice reached your ears, your name coming from his mouth as he looked over at you with his smile. 

“Hey Sugawara!” you greeted, struggling to cover up the fact you were looking intently at him. “Missed you yesterday, everything all good?”

There was a slight tease in your voice, hoping that it covered up the concern you felt yesterday. The small chuckle he gives you makes it feel like it did the job well enough. 

“Everything’s alright, I just needed a day off. As much as I love these little rascals, it’s nice to get a little break every now and then, y’know?” Despite the joking nature of his words, you can’t help but find slight eye bags. You find yourself wondering if they were always there and you had just never noticed them before. 

“Ah, well now I feel a little silly…” you let out a small chuckle. He gives you a small hum, clearly prompting you to continue. “I thought you may have gotten sick. I mean, you work with kids all the time so I’d be more surprised if you didn’t get sick occasionally… so I made you some soup. It’s not anything special, but my mom gave it to my sister and I whenever we were sick.” 

You held the thermos out, fighting back the thought of just turning away and never speaking to him ever again. There was a splash of surprise in his expression before his smile widened and he grabbed the thermos from you. 

“Even if I’m not sick, I appreciate it, thank you,” he spoke your name once again and you felt the butterflies return. He placed the thermos on his desk, next to his bag. 

“Can… I ask a really stupid question?” your heart was racing as you spoke, begging for the floor to swallow you up as his eyes returned to you. His first response was a laugh, before he spoke up. 

“Now, now, I tell the students all the time that there’s no such thing a stupid question, so go ahead. What’s bothering that pretty head of yours?” he leans against his desk, both of you hardly paying attention to your nephew who wandered away to play with some of his classmates who were still in the room. You felt as though the butterflies had welcomed some friends in at hearing him call your head ‘pretty’. You struggle to collect yourself before speaking up. 

“Well… I was wondering if there was some way I could be in contact with you? I know you’re assigned a phone number to the phone in your classroom, but for when you’re out… or if something happens! I mean, it might be easier for you to contact me than to reach out to my sister and for her to then have to contact me if it’s not a Thursday or Friday…” you find yourself rambling, tossing out words as you struggle to form an explanation without crumbling in front of him. This only stops when your hands are enveloped by his own.

“Hey now, let’s take a deep breath, okay?” his gaze finds yours easily, squeezing them lightly. It easily ends your rambling and when he takes a step back, his hands leaving your own, you find yourself missing the warmth. “...hm, contacting me outside of my school number… my school email might be a close second but I don’t always have the notifications on.”

Despite the way he acted to be contemplating, you had a feeling he was just playing with you because after another moment of letting out a small hum, he pulled out his phone and offered it to you. “Might as well go with the most convenient, hm?”

You fight off a blush as you take his phone, typing in your number with shaking hands. He takes it back with a soft smile, typing in what you assumed to be your name. There was another silent moment as he continued typing and you felt your phone buzz. He gives a wink before pocketing it. 

That was how you found yourself returning to your sister’s house, your cheeks aflame. Your nephew none the wiser to why you kept staring at your phone so intently. 

There had been no plans to send him any messages that day, hoping for it to not appear like it meant something more to you - it definitely did - but as you were preparing dinner with your sister, your phone buzzed once again. Unaware of who it could be, you told your sister to read it aloud as you were cutting tomatoes. However, it takes her a moment to even read the message because she starts laughing instead, making you confused. She read the name first, which was enough for you to feel your cheeks start to burn once again but she continued, ignoring the fact you told her that she didn’t need to read it anymore. 

“‘Thanks for the soup, it’s delicious. I’ll definitely bother you for the recipe when I’m sick.’ And he even put a heart!” She’s barely able to keep herself from laughing as you find yourself trying to hide your face. “When did you even get his number? And soup? Please don’t tell me you bought some store soup to give to him!”

“Of course not!” you turn and pout at her. She simply gives a pointed look, clearly waiting for you to give more context. “...there was a sub yesterday and I was worried that he was sick, so I had asked mom to guide me through her recipe because it always made us feel better when we were sick. He wasn’t actually sick yesterday, but he still said thank you for it.”

“...and?”

“And what?”

“And how exactly did you get his number, hm?”

“I asked him for it… because I thought it’d be more convenient for him to inform me of any issues that happen to Kenji during the day than for him to call you only for you to have to call me,” you put the knife down to turn to face her, trying to defend your story.

“Uh huh, and you totally couldn’t have just noted down the phone to his classroom and given him your number to use for that. Or.. I don’t know, given it to the receptionist instead?” There’s silence in the room before you sigh, giving in. She laughs at you. “Well I don’t think Kenji will be complaining if you start dating Mr. Sugawara, that man has become his favorite teacher.”

“I said nothing about dating him!”

“But you were thinking about it. And I’d say you have a pretty good chance if him giving you his number says anything. Everyone knows that man is attractive, I’ve heard my fair share of the parents talk about him,” she waves your phone around as if to emphasize her point. “So, what do you want to say?”

“...you can just say that I’ll happily share it with him-”

“Boring.” She cuts you off before you can even continue. “Please, let’s make some attempt to flirt with the poor man.”

“...how do you even flirt in response to that?” 

She lets out a groan, shaking her head. “You’re helpless…”

She doesn’t say anything else as she starts typing. You immediately move over to her, peeking over her shoulder to look at what she was saying. 

“Don’t say anything weird.”

“I won’t.”

With your supervision - a lot of anxious adjustments - the message gets sent out before she guides you back to the tomatoes. You dice the tomatoes, the message burned in your mind as you anxiously await his answer. 

‘Why would I give you the recipe? gotta give you some reason to want me while you’re sick, even if it’s just soup delivery’

Messaging Sugawara, or Suga, he’s now forced you to shorten it to, was a constant in your life now. You’d send each other a morning message, he’d send a little update during the school lunch break - a thing that started as an update on your nephew but now focused on the man - and even send each other good night messages. It even began to turn into early morning and late night calls, usually featuring one of you two falling asleep on the phone. You in the morning, unused to waking up so early in the day, and occasionally him at night due to getting up so early for the school day. 

This advancement was why when his number popped up on your screen the day before Valentine’s Day, you didn’t question it when you answered the phone. 

“Hey Suga! Earlier call than normal, missed me that much?” you tease lightly, the show you were watching paused in favor of talking with him. There was silence on the other end for a few moments, raising some confusion. “Suga…?”

“Hi, sorry sorry,” there were some noises in the background as he spoke. “Are you free right now?”

“...yeah? Is everything alright?” you’re already sitting up off the couch before he even gets the chance to speak. 

“Could you come to the school to help me with something, please?” his voice is a little hesitant, clearly embarrassed for whatever he needed. 

“Sure, I’ll be there in ten minutes, is there anything you need? First aid? …soup?” you’re grabbing your shoes and putting them on while you’re speaking, trying to keep your tone light to help with his hesitancy. It works when he lets out a soft chuckle.

“No, no, nothing like that. You just need to bring yourself, I just think I bit off more than I could chew tonight and had no one else to call,” his voice is more sure now. You fight off the butterflies at the idea that you were the one he thought to call out of anyone else he could know. You weren’t even sure what he wanted from you, for all you know he could secretly be luring you to the school to kill you, but even with that in mind, you’re soon driving over to the school. 

Arriving at the building at a later hour was strange. While it was only two hours from when you’d come to pick up your nephew, the building was noticeably empty compared to how it normally was. The door was locked, but after a brief knock a janitor appeared at the door. 

“Ya here for Mr. Sugawara?” there was a knowing look in his eyes as he held the door open for you once you nodded your head. “All the way down the hall to the right, ‘s the kitchen.”

After a thank you to the man, you follow his directions to where the kitchen was. Your thoughts swarming with why Sugawara would be in the kitchen, and why he’d be asking for your help. They circle back to the idea of him planning to kill you, maybe cooking you into a soup of your own and the janitor was his accomplice. A chuckle escapes your lips, echoing slightly throughout the empty halls as you arrive at the kitchen and step in through the swing doors. 

The moment the door is out of your line of sight, the reason for his call makes sense. Throughout the room, bowls of chocolate, strawberries, and even some other treats are scattered about. By the stove top is Sugawara, intensely staring at a pot of what you assumed to be chocolate given the evidence around the room. 

“Suga…?” you call out while walking over to him. When he turns to face you, laughter escapes you before you can even help it. Splotches of chocolate on his cheeks and even his forehead. He simply pouts at you, attempting to wipe it away. His hands manage to wipe away some of it, but smeared the rest. You grab a paper towel, wet it, and reach over to wipe his face for him. You hold lightly on his chin to keep him still while you wipe off the spots of chocolate. “I don’t think you’re a strawberry.”

“Are you sure, maybe I’d be delicious?” his easy grin returns to his face, ignoring the state the kitchen was in. “Thank you for coming…”

“What’s even going on? Are you asking someone to be your Valentine or something? I don’t think you need this much chocolate and strawberries for a single person,” you gesture to the bowls full of strawberries prepped to be coated in chocolate. Despite your words, you find yourself severely hoping that it wasn’t the case. You obviously hadn’t made any steps towards being considered valentine material for him, but you wished he’d ask you instead of whoever he was considering. 

“No, nothing like that. Most of the staff here, myself included, like to prepare things for the students. Normally I can get away with those packaged candy hearts or maybe a thing of candy for each student, but we read a book that had chocolate strawberries in it and now they won’t stop mentioning them any chance they get. I thought it’d be nice for them to all get their own chocolate strawberries but… I’ve never made them before,” he lets out a sigh, leaning against the nearby counter, staring at the mess he had made. 

“That explains why Kenji came home one day asking if we could make some!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him. He holds his hands up defensively, but he can’t help but laugh. His own laugh makes yours come out as you lower your hand and smile at him. 

“Yes, yes, I admit that would be my fault. Though you would not be bothered today if Kenji hadn’t told me you had made him some,” he teasingly baited out, pointing the blame to your nephew. 

“Oh yea, it’s truly Kenji’s fault for having such a cool relative who happily learns how to make chocolate strawberries for him,” you bump into him jokingly when going to investigate the pot on the stove top. Just a simple glance is enough for you to let out a small laugh, but you force it down while turning the stove off. “Do we have free reign of the kitchen or is there anything I should make sure not to touch?”

“Free reign, as long as you don’t break anything,” he spoke while peering at what you were doing. Paying him no mind, you grab another pot, letting the other sit on the stove top to cool off. You fill it up with some water before setting it on the stovetop and turning on the burning to let it boil. Once it’s boiling, you turn down the heat and move one of the bowls of chocolates over it. 

“This is a double boiler. You could just toss them in the microwave as well, but I prefer this method since you can keep a constant eye on it while it melts. You’ll want to occasionally stir it,” you direct him over by the stovetop with a spoon before taking his spot, leaning against the counter. “You’re here to learn, not admire me making the chocolate strawberries for your students.”

There’s an eyeroll in response, but he listens, stirring the chocolate occasionally. You both chat throughout the time it takes to melt the chocolate. Once it’s melted, you help him coat each strawberry with chocolate. On top of just ones covered in chocolate, you find some sprinkles to coat on some to make them more exciting for the students. Time seems to flow smoothly as you spend nearly two hours making them and then cleaning up the kitchen from the disaster that had stormed through the room before you had arrived. 

“Thank you, again. I almost thought I was going to have to go to the store and hope they had some candy left at a decent price,” he let out a sigh, returning to lean against the counter again. 

“It’s not a problem, just means you owe me,” you tease lightly, moving beside him. “Maybe I’ll require you to inform your students that you needed my help, hm?”

There’s a moment of silence as he stares ahead, thinking. A part of you is tempted to speak up, promise you were teasing but when his eyes move to you, every word is gone. “Say… I have one thing that could make up for it. Do you want to come with me somewhere?” He offers his hand out to you. 

“Go somewhere with you? Are you planning to murder me in some forest?” You accept his hand, smiling when he lets out a light chuckle at your words. 

“I mean, if I destroy the evidence none of my students will know I needed help making their treats,” he jokes back while walking with you out of the kitchen. Despite him knowing he didn’t need to hold onto your hand, he holds it naturally, as if it was meant to be like this. He first guides you to his classroom, where he grabs his bag and thinks for a moment before releasing your hand, asking you to stay in the room while he runs out briefly, bag in hand. You find yourself missing the feel of his hand, but it doesn’t last long when he returns and immediately envelopes yours with his once again. 

With his bag in hand, and your hand in his other, you both walk out of the building, ignoring another glance directed at you by the janitor who had let you in, and head to his car. He opens the door for you, waiting for you to comfortably sit down before closing it and walking over to the driver side. 

When he gets in and closes the door, you speak up, “Do I get to know which forest you’re going to dispose of the evidence in?” Another laugh comes from him, and he shakes his head lightly while putting his key in and starting the car. The bag in his hand is carefully set in the backseats before he puts the car in drive and starts on wherever you both were headed. 

“I fear not, it’ll spoil the surprise of where you end up. But I promise it’ll be worth it,” you give him a pout in response, but all he does is offer his hand to you once again while his eyes remain on the road. 

It takes about twenty minutes before he turns into a parking lot of a convenience store. He ignores the confused look you give him, turning the car off and hopping out of the car. You watch as he runs to your side of the car, opening the door for you with a grin. “I promise this isn’t our destination, I just thought it’d be nice to have some food, haven’t had dinner yet.” 

You hop out, thanking him for opening the door for you. However, you manage to open the door to the convenience store before him, grinning at him while you hold it open for him. He rolls his eyes, but does enter the store thanks to you. You follow behind, glancing around, as if something would jump out and explain where exactly you both were going. 

“Haven’t I told ya kids to eat some real food?” a gruff voice comes out. You turn your attention over, finding an older man looking pointedly at Suga who holds his hands up innocently with a grin. 

“C’mon Ukai! It’s been over a week since I came.”

“And most people don’t come here every week! ‘Specially when they work twenty minutes away,” despite his tone, the man is already pulling out a meat bun and stuffing it into a bag. 

“Actually, I need another,” Suga speaks up, directing his gaze to you. Seemingly for the first time, the man behind the counter seems to have noticed you. There’s silence for a moment before a newspaper is rolled up and hit against Suga’s head. 

“The hell you mean?! You’re out with someone and you’re offering ‘em my food? Didn’t we teach you kids better?” he shoos Suga away, who goes deeper into the store looking for something. “God, can’t believe this kid. Please tell me this ain’t your first time going out and this is where he brings ya.”

“Oh! Well, we aren’t a thing…” you try to explain. The man just raises a brow at you, making you stumble over your next words. “Promise! I just helped him with a few things today so he’s taking me out- wait oh god is this a date…?”

The last bit is mostly muttered to yourself but the man hears you, cackling to himself before leaning over the counter to speak with you. “I’d say so. So you better make sure your next time is somewhere much better, if not come back ‘ere and I’ll make sure to teach that boy a lesson for you.” He gives you a wink before Suga returns to the counter, a basket of stuff covered with a blanket. 

“No looking, that’s cheating,” Suga waves your gaze away, making you pout but you listen and turn away. Once everything is bought, he carries the bag in one hand and holds onto yours with the other. “See ya next week Ukai!”

“Yea, sure- wait no you better not be back here again that soon!” the man shouts back as you both walk out the store. Suga laughs while guiding you back to your seat. He says nothing while you sit down but he reaches over you, placing the bag in the back seat before buckling your seat belt for you. Your cheeks heat up as he simply winks at you before stepping back, closing the door and going to his seat. The moment he starts the car, his hand finds yours once again and you are on your way to your final destination. 

It’s only another ten minutes before he pulls into a small parking lot. The building seemed to be closed, but when you both get out, Suga, carrying both bags, guides you off to the side where there’s a grass clearing and a view of the sky. The sun slowly setting and you could see as some stars took their homes in the sky. You find yourself entranced by the view and by the time you look back at Suga, he’s spreading a blanket on the ground and you catch the view of some snacks in the convenience store bag. When he realizes your attention is back on him, he pats a spot on the blanket that he sits next to. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” you comment as you sit down by him. 

“It is. I used to come here in high school. It was a nice jog for practice and the view was always a great way to destress,” he leans against you lightly while looking at the sky with a smile. “I’ve never taken anyone else here.”

Your gaze falls back on him, a little shocked at the statement. It takes a moment before his eyes look at you, a hesitant smile on his face. He pushes himself back a little, turning to his school bag and he pulls something out but keeps it behind his back when he turns to you. Despite the darkening sky, you find a note of red on his cheeks as he looks at you. He utters your name lightly, hesitance written all over his face. 

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Suga, you of all people should know there’s no such thing as a stupid question,” you give him a gentle smile. By now, you’ve fully turned yourself towards him, patiently waiting for him to speak. When he stays silent, you reach out for his hand that’s not holding something behind his back, squeezing it. He takes a deep breath, finding your gaze before he speaks. 

“It’s a little embarrassing to ask with something you helped me with but… would you be my Valentine?” behind his back, he pulls out a box full of some of the chocolate covered strawberries you both had made. However, unlike the ones you had sporadically covered in sprinkles, there was candy letters spelling out your name and a few had little hearts on them. “I know it’s the day before, so I might be a little late… but I thought I’d ask anyways. I promise this isn’t everything I planned.” 

His cheeks seemed to become even more red as he spoke. Your smile widened, accepting the box before placing it on the blanket beside you. And while the sun disappeared from your view, before you sat Suga coated in moonlight. The man who taught your nephew about the same chocolate strawberries you were gifted. The same man, who just as promised, presented you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in the morning instead of your normal morning phone call. And on this Valentine’s Day, you fell back to sleep in the morning, in the arms of your Valentine.

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Notes: this is my first official like full fic on here so I'm like a little nervous to post this... but I hope you guys enjoyed! Again first time writing Suga so he may not be the best but shhh

[muxshwriting]

like him

bridgerton!reader (can be read as gn!reader)

summary: the terrifying reality that you’re chasing the ghost of your father || warnings: angst, comfort, grief, daddy issues (in a way?) || word count: 1045 || masterlist

You’d heard the Mamas of the Ton discussing your family more times than you can count. But there were only a handful of times you’d been directly mentioned in those discussions.

The overwhelming majority of those conversations were comparing you to others, to your mother, your siblings and your father. It was when they talked about your father that stabbed a hole in your heart every time.

“She’s so obviously Edmund’s daughter; the spitting image.”

They whisper it when you attend your first ball out in society, after all your siblings had gone on to marry for love. A part of you questions if they whispered about your father then too but the prominence of the gossip makes you stumble. You were being compared to a man you had never known, chasing a ghost of the past that everyone except from you seemed to see.

You’d spent most of the next day hidden in Anthony’s study, sitting on the floor and staring up at your father’s portrait. You picked out every similarity you had, every difference sticking out like a sore thumb. How could you relax before you knew everything about him? Until you had memorised every corner of his face?

Your eldest brother had joined you in the early evening, sitting at his desk and watching you watch the portrait. His chest heaved with the weight of grief that would never shift. You spoke nothing and Anthony left you to your thoughts until the house quietened and the fire dimmed.

He stood from his desk and lowered himself to the floor beside you.

“People tell me I look like him. They say it’s an uncanny resemblance. Did they say that about you?” You spoke softly, turning to face him, finally breaking the contact between you and your father.

Anthony met your gaze. “They said it but not as much as they say it to you.” He paused, collecting his words. “It is true. You’re the most like him out of all of us.”

“A bit hypocritical, no?” It was strange that that was the only thought floating through your head. The person most like him never got to meet him.

“He would like you.” Anthony ignored the comment. “You’d be his little shadow, made of all the best parts of him.”

“I feel like I should be doing something… for him.”

Anthony smiled. “You are. You’re being you.”

He laced his hand with yours as you turned your gaze back to the portrait. The night waned on and the pair of you sat in silence, your head on his shoulder until sleep threatened to claim you and he sent you off to bed.

Anthony shared your concerns with Violet the next morning, half asking for advice and half hoping she would talk to you in a way Anthony couldn’t.

She joined you in the living room, sitting beside you on the chaise. “Anthony told me about yesterday.” She said gently, not wanting to push you.

You nod silently. “Mama-“

“You remind me of Edmund every day.” Violet whispered to you. “There’s so much of him in you that I don’t even think you’re aware of.”

You turn to her, brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“The way your eyebrows furrow when you’re thinking about something, like you are now. You get the same twinkle in your eyes that he did, the same smile, the way you pout when you’re trying not to laugh. And your laugh-”

You’re entranced with every word your mama shares about your father. And the more you listen, you come to the startling realisation that you’ll never be able to properly meet the man you share so much with. You wonder how alike you truly are, and how much more alike you would be if he had lived on to raise you.

“I am sorry.”

“What?”

Violet explained herself. “You’ll never truly know him, beyond what we can tell you. There is no way to compare our memory to who Edmund truly was. I am so sorry that was taken from you.”

You bite back tears, rubbing circles in the inside of your wrist to calm yourself. “It’s alright.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“But it has to be.” You shot back. “I would rather have your memories of Father than nothing at all and although nothing can replace him, you and Anthony have raised me to make him proud. And he would be- proud. He’d be proud of you.”

Now Violet was the one biting away the tears, smiling with a watery chuckle as she pulled you closer. She cradled you in her arms, tucking you under her chin. “He would.” She agreed. “He would be proud of everything.”

When your tears had dried and Violet isn’t clinging to you like you’ll disappear, she stands and motions for you to follow her. She leads you to a spare study you thought was empty or used by one of the valets. Slowly, she pushes the door open with a creak and lights a candle to light the room.

Everything is covered in white cloths or binded into piles to stop the dust from getting on them. Mama starts to look for something, lifting piles and peeking into their contents until she seemingly finds what she wants.

“Everything in here belonged to your father.”

The truth comes like a punch, the knowledge that you are standing surrounded by all of his things.

“And these-“ She holds out a bundle of notebooks, unwrapped from their binding. “-are your father’s journals.”

“For me?” The fact that she trusts you with them speaks volumes.

“You will never get the chance to know your father. I’m hoping that through his journals, you can get even a glimpse of him. Anything in this room is yours as much as it was his.”

The tears spring up again before you can stop them and you let them run down your face freely. “Mama-“

“I know.” She gently rubs your shoulder as she brushes past you to leave. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know it’s all here for when you’re ready.”

Just as she reaches the doorway, you turn and choke out a small, “Thank you,” your father’s journals clutched to your chest like a lifeline.

[27spoons]

Poor Natalie suffering with all the pressure of leadership + Shauna and Mari acting like 5 year olds😓 But it's okay, just because all that stress goes away, at least for now, while she has your pretty face stuck between her legs eating her pussy eagerly😆✨️

Eating Natalie to make her all dizzy and relaxed after a stressful day😵‍💫 in this case you can deal with 2 types of Natalie, the one who will whine and squirm pathetically or the one who will grab your hair and rub her pussy roughly in your face

She would have the most beautiful bush by now and would be sooo hot :(( I want her so bad.

Can you write something or just little thoughts about it?

i have some thoughts........ with @cassioo also having some thoughts...

nsfw thoughts under da cut

nat is a brat. i will not be taking questions or comments.

anyways. it's the end of the day, and nat is coming to your hut to talk to you. (she's the antler queen, ofc she has her own hut. for this, assume you also have ur own hut)

nat is just ranting about shauna and mari and how fucking childish they're being, how lottie is going straight into the whole 'witch doctor' role and keeps running off with travis (her ex) who always comes back out of it.

and, even worse, with mari straight up vanishing? yeah. she's not in a good headspace.

you two aren't dating, but... there's no denying the tension between you two. hell, it was there even when she was with travis.

so... maybe you just offhandedly ask while she's yapping, "anything i can do to help?"

and nat, well... nat doesn't understand what you're saying right away, and just says something like, "yeah, i need to fucking destress. wish i had some cigarettes."

you approach nat, hands on her shoulders, and clearly state, "do you want my help destressing?" and she finally gets it.

nat is hesitant....... obviously, but she does it anyways. like i said, tension between the two of you for a while.

by the time you manage to coax nat into laying down on your bedroll and get her pants off, she's wet. not soaked, but you can definitely see the damp spot in her panties.

you aren't very experienced, but you sure as hell are eager.

once you get her panties off, nat is slightly embarrassed. i don't think anyone has ever gone down on her before, so she isn't so sure about her taste/appearance/whatever but she doesn't let it show (despite the fact her cheeks and chest are RED. that girl is pale asf. she def turns into a lobster when she blushes)

you kiss your way up her legs—which makes her squirm restlessly—but when you finally reach her vagina, you press your nose into her bush, and... yeah, it's musky, but it's fucking sexy. it smells like nat and sex.

when you try and find her clit.... you have a little bit of difficulty doing it. whoops.

nat doesn't mind. she reaches down between her legs and helps you out, spreading her slick folds for you to get a better view, and... damn. you could cum just from this sight alone.

once you get the hang of it—lapping at her clit with long, flat strokes of your tongue—her fingers tangle themselves into your hair and hold you against her as she starts slowly humping your face and chasing the pleasure. (mind you, she doesn't really have to hold you there. you aren't going anywhere.)

you start teasing her entrance with your fingers, and feel her tense up so you pull back, but she quickly mutters a "no, no, it's fine. i just... wasn't expecting it. it's fine, i'm okay with it" so you push one finger in, and there's a full body shiver from nat at the sensation, and you swear you hear a soft moan leave her lips.

one finger turns into two quickly enough, and soon your mouth is on her clit while two fingers push in and out of her, trying (and failing) to find the gspot.

you don't even realise you've been humping the ground while you eat her out until the hand you have on her thigh leaves it in an attempt to slide underneath the waistband of your pants, which quickly earns a whine from nat.

"wait, wait, keep your hands on me, please—"

damn. you're powerless to resist that.

your hand goes back to her thigh, but she quickly takes it and intertwines her fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gratefully—maybe to make up for another emotion she can't properly express right now.

eating her out is going well; your fingers are doing their job, and then you brush against a spot inside of her that's slightly rougher than the surrounding tissue, and nat slaps her free hand over her mouth to muffle the sound that escapes.

but she doesn't muffle it in time.

you hear it, and it makes you moan, so you repeat that action and keep repeating it until her hips are moving rapidly against your tongue, her pussy trying to pull your fingers in deeper, her hand holding yours at almost a bruising strength.

and when she comes?

oh, you feel it.

she doesn't squirt or anything, but the way her cunt clenches down on your fingers and clit throbs as a whiney-moan spills from her lips, barely concealed by her hand? oh, you know. you know.

when you pull back, you don't even realise that her blunt nails dug into the skin on the back of your hand and created small, red crescents from where her nails had bitten down.

you lick the fingers that had been inside her and moan at the taste, and nat is watching you with her jaw slack and eyes wide.

let's just say... someone for sure overheard what you two did last night.

you don't know if you care all that much.

@theprismyyy requested this (just on anon accidentally) but here it isssssss

[adddddiiii]

Crimson Eclipse

5. Buried Vengeance

Satoru Gojo's penthouse was loud.

Not in the literal sense; there was no music playing, no conversation filling the space. But it was overwhelming in the way only someone like him could make it, you thought. Towering windows bathed the room in neon city light, illuminating sleek black furniture and scattered remnants of his life.

A half-empty energy drink sat on the counter next to a pile of documents—some classified, some clearly stolen. The walls held more knives than artwork, and the couch was draped with a ridiculously expensive-looking jacket that he’d probably tossed there some time ago.

And Satoru himself? He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching the two of you like this was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen.

"You’re in deep shit," he said cheerfully, directing the words at Red Hood. No- Suguru.

Suguru stood stiffly near the window, helmet still on, shoulders tense. But the rest of his suit was off. That was enough to tell you that he trusted Satoru.

"I don’t need a reminder," he muttered.

"Well, you’re getting one anyway," Satoru shot back. "Because I just got word from Shoko that Serpentis doubled the bounty."

Your stomach twisted. "Doubled?"

"Mmhm, and they want you killed. Apparently, they’re really pissed off." Satoru flashed a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "Congrats, you’re officially more valuable dead than alive."

You swallowed hard. This whole thing was spiraling out of control.

"They don’t just want me for the drive anymore, do they?" you asked quietly.

Satoru shrugged. "At this point? No. They want you because he wants you alive."

The meaning settled between you like a loaded gun. This wasn’t about the information or the drive, or you anymore. Serpentis and Red Hood had been hunting each other for a while. And now, Serpentis had something they never had before — a way to get to him. You.

You didn't understand why Hood was so adamant on keeping you alive. Maybe it was the deal you'd made with him; you hand him the drive and he keeps you alive. But something told you he wasn't the type to keep promises. You wondered if he was only keeping you out of spite, to taunt Serpentis.

"You should’ve cut her loose the second this started," Satoru told Suguru.

He didn't respond.

"You know I'm right."

Nothing. And that silence said more than words ever could.

Satoru sighed and pushed off the counter. "I’ll set up a room for you two. You have a day to figure out what you’re doing next."

Then he was gone, leaving you alone with the masked vigilante who might’ve just ruined his entire crusade to keep you alive.

——————————————————————

The city stretched out endlessly beyond the glass, a blur of neon reflections and restless motion. The rain had started again, misting against the penthouse windows in a rhythm that matched the quiet between you.

Red Hood stood beside you, silent. His posture was rigid with something unreadable. The city lights cast faint shadows on his helmet and without his gloves, his fingers flexed restlessly at his sides.

"Why are you keeping me alive?" The words left your mouth before you could think better of them.

His breath hitched, just barely. "What?"

"If there’s one thing this city knows about you, it's that you don’t hesitate to kill or sacrifice, especially when it comes to something like Serpentis. You made that clear. So why am I still breathing? Why haven't you let Serpentis take me?"

A long silence.

"I know what it's like to be hunted."

"That doesn't answer my-"

"My mother. They killed my mother."

The air left your lungs. Something in his stance shifted, just slightly. It wasn’t quite vulnerability — not yet — but it was something close.

"She was caught in the crossfire. Just another body in the way." He exhaled sharply. "Serpentis doesn’t leave survivors. Except you, now. I'm not letting them have you."

His head tilted toward you, just enough to make you feel the weight of his gaze behind the mask. Another silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things. The city outside pulsed with life, but here, in the dim glow of the penthouse, the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Finally, he sighed, as if tired of his own thoughts. "Get some rest," he said, turning away. "Tomorrow, we figure this out."

And like that, the moment was gone. But he had never really answered your question: Why was he keeping you alive?

And why did it feel like he wasn't sure of the answer either?

< prev | next >

Taglist: @uncalicous @a-lil-bit-nuts @celloccino @treeteaofversailles @promnightbinbaby @theroyalmanatee @rowannin @bungunz

[elliecore4eva]

The Day They Broke You

You weren’t sure how it happened.

You weren’t sure why it happened.

All you knew was that today, the three people you loved most—Ellie, Baby Bunny, and Baby Bear—each snapped at you.

And by the time the day was over, you weren’t sure how much of you was left.

Snap One: Baby Bunny

You had always adored your eldest.

She was sixteen now, full of attitude but full of heart—her mother’s daughter in every way.

So, when she stomped into the kitchen after school, dropping her bag with a groan, you only smiled.

“Rough day?” you asked, reaching out to brush her hair back.

But she pulled away.

You blinked.

“Baby?”

She exhaled sharply. “Mom, I swear, if you ask me that one more time—”

You frowned. “I just wanted to check on you, sweetheart.”

Baby Bunny rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to check on me all the time,” she muttered. “You’re always hovering.”

You felt something crack inside you.

You hovered?

You just wanted to make sure she was okay.

But she just grabbed her bag and muttered, “You’re so overbearing sometimes.”

And with that—

She was gone.

Snap Two: Baby Bear

Your youngest—your sunshine—had always been the easiest piece of your heart.

So when you went to pick her up, you smiled and opened your arms.

But instead of running to you like she always did, Baby Bear just frowned.

“Mommy, why are you always hugging me?”

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you asked softly.

She scrunched her nose. “You do it too much.”

Something inside you collapsed.

You swallowed thickly and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, baby.”

She huffed. “You should be.”

And just like that—

Another crack.

Snap Three: Ellie

Ellie was your safe place.

She was the one who knew you, who loved you more than anyone.

So when she came home, you thought—

Maybe now. Maybe she’ll be happy to see me.

You stood, smiling. “Hey, Bear,” you greeted. “Dinner’s almost ready—”

But she just sighed.

“Bunny, I literally just walked in,” she muttered. “Can I breathe first?”

Your chest tightened. “I— I wasn’t—”

“Jesus, can you not cling to me the second I get home?”

The final crack.

The final break.

The final piece of you shattered.

“Oh,” you whispered.

Ellie froze.

You took a step back.

And then you left.

Missing

Two hours.

Three.

Ellie sat at the table, rubbing her temples.

“Where’s Bunny?”

Baby Bunny frowned. “I dunno.”

Baby Bear glanced around. “Mommy?”

Something in Ellie twisted.

“She— she didn’t say anything?”

Baby Bunny shifted in her seat. “Well… I might have been kinda mean to her earlier.”

Baby Bear sniffled. “I was mean, too.”

Ellie’s stomach sank.

And then it hit her.

She had snapped at you, too.

And now, you were gone.

“Oh, fuck.”

She bolted out the door.

Breaking Point

They found you in the freezing cold, curled up on a bench.

But you weren’t just crying.

You were sobbing.

Your shoulders shook violently.

Your breathing was ragged.

And when Joel reached you first, his heart broke.

“Baby girl,” he whispered, dropping to his knees. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

But you couldn’t.

Because you were breaking.

Ellie’s voice was small. “Bunny?”

No response.

Baby Bunny’s eyes welled up. “Mom?”

Nothing.

Baby Bear crawled into your lap, hugging you. “Mommy, please don’t cry,” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean it.”

Slowly—

You lifted your head.

Ellie’s chest ached.

Your eyes were swollen. Your lips were trembling. Your hands were shaking.

And then—

The worst part.

You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Ellie shattered.

“No,” she choked out. “No, Bunny, don’t—”

But you just kept crying.

Like you thought you had to apologize for being loved too much.

Joel gently wiped your tears. “Sweetheart, you are never too much.”

Dina sniffled. “We love you so much.”

Bill huffed. “We’re all idiots.”

Frank wiped his eyes. “Never again, honey.”

Ellie buried her face in your shoulder. “I love you, Bunny. I love you so fucking much.”

Baby Bunny sobbed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it.”

Baby Bear hiccupped. “Me too, Mommy. I love you the most.”

And finally—

Finally—

You let them hold you.

And you let yourself believe them.

Epilogue: The Next Morning

You woke up wrapped in warmth.

Ellie was clinging to you, her face buried in your neck.

Baby Bunny was curled up beside you, holding your hand in her sleep.

Baby Bear was snuggled into your chest, snoring.

When you shifted—

Ellie tightened her grip.

“Mm-mm,” she grumbled sleepily. “Nope. Not happening.”

You smiled softly. “What’s not happening?”

Ellie peeked up, pressing a sleepy kiss to your jaw. “Not letting you out of my arms.”

Baby Bunny yawned, snuggling closer. “Yeah, me neither.”

Baby Bear popped her head up. “Me three.”

Joel chuckled from the doorway. “I see the guilt train has officially arrived.”

Ellie huffed. “Damn right.”

You just laughed, full again.

Because no matter how broken yesterday had made you—

Today, you were loved.

And that was everything.

Future Snippet: Warmth After the Cold

The house was quiet that night.

Not in a lonely way—just in the way that homes feel when everyone inside is finally settled, safe.

You were tucked into bed, warm beneath thick blankets, with Ellie wrapped around you like she thought you might disappear if she let go.

She hadn’t stopped touching you since they found you crying in the snow. Not when she carried you inside, not when she sat you in front of the fire and wrapped you in her flannel, not when she whispered soft apologies into your hair over and over again.

And certainly not now.

Her arm was draped across your stomach, her nose nuzzled into the back of your neck. Every now and then, she mumbled something, half-asleep but still making sure you knew how much she loved you.

You shifted slightly, adjusting to get more comfortable—

And immediately, Ellie stirred.

"Mm—Bun?" Her voice was groggy, laced with sleep but still full of concern.

"I’m right here, Bear," you murmured. "Just getting comfy."

Ellie hummed, tightening her hold. "You better be."

There was a tiny shuffling sound, and then another voice piped up—this one soft, sleepy, and very small.

"Mama?"

You turned your head and saw Baby Bear standing at the side of the bed, rubbing her tired little eyes.

"Sweetheart," you whispered, immediately lifting the blanket. "Come here, baby."

She wasted no time, climbing into the bed and snuggling into your chest.

Ellie sighed. "There’s my little troublemaker."

Baby Bear yawned. "M’not a troublemaker," she muttered sleepily. "I’m a hero. I told that dumb boy to leave Mama alone."

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You did, baby. You were very brave."

Ellie beamed, clearly so proud of her daughter. "That’s my girl."

There was another shuffling noise, and a second later, Baby Bunny peeked into the room, her voice hushed. "Can I—?"

"You better get in here before I start charging rent," Ellie grumbled, pulling the blanket up again.

With a smirk, Baby Bunny hopped into bed, snuggling into your other side.

And just like that, you were surrounded.

Ellie wrapped her arms around all three of you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "See?" she murmured. "Right where you belong."

You sighed, feeling warm and safe and loved.

And just before sleep took you under, you heard Baby Bunny mumble—

"We’re never letting this happen again."

And none of them ever did.

Future Snippet: Wrapped in Love

The warmth in the room wasn’t just from the blankets. It was from them.

Ellie, Baby Bunny, and Baby Bear—tangled around you like they were afraid to let go.

After everything that had happened that day—the way all three of them had snapped at you without meaning to, the way they had let their own frustrations spill over onto you, the way you had ended up outside in the cold, alone—this moment felt like a balm to every wound.

You didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Didn’t want to replay Baby Bunny’s exasperated huff when she rolled her eyes at you. Didn’t want to hear Baby Bear’s whiny little voice snapping in frustration. Didn’t want to hear Ellie’s sharp words from earlier, the ones she immediatelyregretted but still had cut deep.

Because none of that mattered now.

Not when you were here, warm, safe, surrounded.

Baby Bear was curled up on your chest, her tiny fingers fisting into your shirt like she thought you might disappear if she let go. Her little face was smushed against you, soft breaths fanning against your skin. You could still hear her earlier sobs echoing in your mind—her little voice breaking as she clung to you, saying she was sorry, sorry, sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean it.

Baby Bunny was on your other side, an arm lazily draped across your stomach, her face buried in the blankets. She had been so quiet when they found you—so unlike herself. No sass, no witty remark. Just wide, guilt-ridden eyes, barely able to look at you before she mumbled, I was a real asshole today, huh?

Ellie was wrapped around all three of you, like she needed to make sure no one could take you away. Her arms were strong, firm, steady. She had been the last to find you, after realizing neither of your girls knew where you were. It wasn’t often that Ellie panicked—but she had. And the look in her eyes when she found you outside, sitting on that cold bench, crying alone—

You never wanted to see that look again.

Now, she was pressed up against your back, her nose buried in your hair, arms wound so tightly around your waist it was almost impossible to breathe. But you didn’t care. You needed it.

You shifted slightly, just enough to turn toward her, and Ellie immediately stirred.

“Mm—Bun?” Her voice was rough with sleep, but still full of concern.

You hummed, running a hand down her arm. “M’right here, Bear.”

Ellie exhaled, a long, deep breath, like she hadn’t been sure you’d still be here if she opened her eyes. Then she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your head.

A tiny shuffling noise came from your chest.

“Mama?”

Baby Bear’s small, sleepy voice made your heart ache with love. You ran a hand over her soft hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Right here, baby.”

Baby Bear let out a tiny breath, her hand curling tighter into your shirt. “Don’t wanna go to sleep.”

Ellie chuckled, voice still thick with exhaustion. “Why not, troublemaker?”

Baby Bear yawned, the sound so tiny it made your chest ache. “Wanna make sure Mama stays.”

Your heart nearly broke.

Ellie pressed another kiss to your temple before reaching over to brush Baby Bear’s curls back. “She’s not going anywhere, bug. We made sure of that.”

There was another shuffling sound, and then a sleepy voice mumbled, “You guys are so dramatic.”

Baby Bunny.

Ellie scoffed. “Big words for someone who was crying into my jacket two hours ago.”

Baby Bunny groaned. “I was not—”

“You so were.”

You laughed, despite everything. Because even in moments like this, they were them.

Baby Bunny sighed dramatically before shifting closer, resting her head against your shoulder.

There was a comfortable silence.

The house was still.

And then—

“Mom?” Baby Bear’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Mm?”

“...I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

Then—

Baby Bunny, softer this time: “Me too.”

Ellie, pressing her lips against your hair: “Me three.”

And just like that—

Every part of you that had felt cold today—every ache, every hurt, every leftover pain—melted.

You exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you smiled. “I love you guys too.”

Ellie held you a little tighter. Baby Bunny let out a happy hum. Baby Bear snuggled further into your chest.

And as the four of you drifted into sleep, tangled in each other—

You knew, without a doubt, that you would never be alone again.

[spicedcherrylolli]

Modern!Sevika x Bookworm!reader - The Ex

This is something I have been thinking about a lot recently. I will admit I am projecting my own personal need for Sevika. Hope you all enjoy Sevika getting a little jealous, I know I did!❤️

-Cherry

p.s. I suck at titles. If you have any tips, please help a women lover out 😘

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Sevika isn’t the PDA type. She likes her time holding, touching, and kissing you to be in private. It was something that you didn’t mind if you were being honest. It was not necessary for you and after getting to know Sevika more, the more you understood and accepted her quirks. As she did with you. So that’s why, you’re currently looking at Sevika like the world stopped in its axis.

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It had been a slightly above average day. You and Sevika were off work/school and decided to have a day out, thrifting, trying new and old coffee spots, and most exciting to you, book shopping. It had been months since you had the chance to go shop around. I was also exciting because Sevika was there. Sevika stood there, followed you around, carrying all the books you want, and listening to every summery you gave and a nod when pointing out ones you’ve read.

“Oh, and I read this series. The first book is so good, but the second got so slow and the romance didn’t develop like i wanted to. And then I had to DNF the last, cuz it was just so so bad” You speak softly to Sevika, her nodding and following you as you move down the aisle.

Sevika loves coming to the bookstore with you. You are in your element, bright eyes, soft voice, and she can feel the excited calm radiating from you. She would never admit how much seeing this part of you made her love you so much more. She held the basket with pride and took in everything you said, sorting and storing the knowledge in the back of her head, (and sometimes her phone) for gift ideas. She might hate the whole PDA thing, but to her, this is basically the same thing. Being there for her girl and buying whatever books you wanted was telling the world you are hers.

“I think I’ll get this one.” you pause, “Oh wait I think I saw the special edition over there, I’ll be right back.”

Turning and walking away, Sevika stands in the romance section. Feeling eyes on her, she turns her head to see a face she wanted to punch maybe severely hurt.

Here’s the thing, Sevika isn’t the jealous type. She knows and trusts she has you and nothing could take that away other than her own actions. However, Sevika had heard much about your ex. The individual that hurt you countless times and broke your trust equally so. It was something therapy and Sevika’s reassuring mannerisms has helped you overcome for the most part. But not for your girlfriend. Making eye contact with them, she pushed her feet forward, ready to tell them off.

“Vika, -” You interrupt, “sorry I got distracted. They had two different special editions of the same book can you bel-” you were cut off by Sevika grabbing your hips, pulling you close, basket now on the floor and kissing you. Hands moving up and cupping your face to kiss you deeper. It was taking your breath way and simultaneously making you worried your girlfriend was having some health episode. Pulling away slowly, confusion and awe written on your face.

“What was that for?” You ask slightly out of breath. Picking up the basket beside her, she looks around, seeing the ex is gone, and turns back to you.

“No reason, I can’t just kiss my girl in public?”

Taken aback, “Well of course you can, but you don’t like to”

Sevika chuckled, the hint of a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe I’m starting to change my mind," she said, her eyes flicking over to where your ex had been standing moments ago, now gone.

You raised an eyebrow, still processing what just happened. "So... that was because...?"

Her gaze softened as she looked back at you, the playful edge still there but tinged with something serious. "That was reminding me that you're mine. And no one gets what's mine."

She shrugged slightly, as if trying to play it off as nothing, a protectiveness radiating off of her "I’m not jealous, but I’ve got a limit."

Your stomach filled with butterflies, and for a moment, you almost forgot where you were. "Sevika," you started, awe and understanding lingering behind it, her name taking your breath.

She gave you a small smile, one that was equal parts softness and confidence. "I care about you more than you could possibly understand. Now, are you going to grab that special edition or what?" She nudged you lightly, trying to shift the attention away from her unexpected outburst of PDA.

You couldn’t help reciprocating a grin, even as your heart races. Taking the clue, you start browsing again, except this time it was different. The air was charged, you kept bumping into Sevika.

By the time you left the shop, with enough books to keep you occupied for some time, your only thought was Sevika. How you had gotten so lucky to have her and her thinking how lucky she is to have you. You both spend the night in each other’s arms, doing everything to make sure you each knew and felt the love you had for each other.

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[hawksbacktattoo]

Drip | Sensei Wolf/Feng Xiao x Fem!Reader

Summary: reader loved to get her lover worked up whilst he was unable to relief himself, he decides it's his time to play the same game.

Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creamp!e, smut with plot

Word Count: 1.7k

Not proof read

Yn was notorious for giving Xiao a hard time while he was working. From calling when she knew he was busy, just to tell him how much she was yearning for him. To sending him lewd pictures and videos.

Even going as far as showing up at his dojo before the students came, just to get him worked up. Playing the innocent card when he tried finishing what she started. "You know your students will be here soon." She would tease, batting her lashes and walking away from him, making sure to sway her hips to tease further.

It was the way he treated her body when he finally came home to her. The night filled with screams of pleasure and the wooden bed frame scratching up the floors. She knew exactly what she was doing, pushing him past his limits, then leavinf him high and dry - desperate for her.

Today, yn had an important meeting with the head supervisors at the company she worked for. This was her chance to finally get a promotion, to get what she longed for when she started there almost six years ago.

Buttoning the final button on her blouse, pulling her coat over her shoulders and dabbing a little gloss to her lips, she was ready to cease the day.

"Everything look okay?" She questioned, hair bouncing against her shoulder as she spun to face her shirtless lover. His gaze looking up from his phone, eyes scanning over her appearance.

"You look amazing, my love." A smile encroaching his lips. He looked at her with so much love and adornment. "Thank you." She cooed, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"I shouldn't be gone too long." She informed, snatching up her bag and keys.

The drive to the office wasn't long, taking twenty minutes at most before she pulled into the employee parking lot.

Smoothing her outside as she stepped out the car, pulling down the edge of skirt, she made a B line for the entrance.

Her nerves were all over the place, she didn't want to mess up this opportunity.

Sitting in the conference room, hands on fists placed in her lap, she bounced her leg waiting for the last supervisor to arrive.

Feeling her phone buzz in her lap, she quickly looked down, opening the message her lover sent her.

Holy fuck.. Tensing in her seat as her eyes ran over the photo displayed on her screen. Sat at the edge of their bed, in front of the large mirror hanging from the wall - his legs parted, completely nude. Yn could partially feel his gaze through the phone.

'Now isn't the time!!' She responded, face burning red. Straightening in her seat when the last supervisor arrived.

They talked a few thing over with her, what position she would take, the hour changes and the responsibilities that came with it.

Keeping her professional front on as he thighs squeezed together under the large table. It was hard for her to focus, mind constantly rushing back to the sight of Xiao.

She wanted to be between his thighs on her knees as he caressed the top of her head. Gaze heavy on her as always. She wanted for him to push her up against the mirror and rearrange her insides.

Shaking the thoughts away, she tuned her attention back to the task at hand.

Her lap buzzed again, the picture flashing through her mind once more. Heat growing between her thighs.

"Could you excuse me for one moment? I have to use the restroom." She excused herself, heels clacking against the tiled floors as she scurried out of the room.

Standing in a stall - door closed, she opened her phone, shuddering at the intimate picture. Now standing, his hand gripping the base of his length. Veins in his biceps protruding, muscle flexing slight.

Yn pressed her head against the stall wall, eyes closing, trying to shake off the feeling all this was giving her. Taking one last glance at her phone, she made her way back into the conference room.

Wrapping up the meeting successfully, yn stood from her seat, hand grasping each of their owns in a firm shake as she thanked them.

Her legs buckled beneath her as she walked out to her car. Tossing her purse into the passenger seat, she let out a long needed sigh. As she was finishing up the meeting, her phone buzzed like crazy in her lap.

Scrolling through the array of sensual pictures her litter her phone with, she could feel herself pooling. Free hand gripping the steering wheel, shivers tinkling up her spine.

Yn practically sped home, hands tight around the steering wheel, music loud in an attempt to drown out her thoughts.

Kicking off her heels, she sprinted up the stairs. Breath catching in her throat when she swung the door open. Eyes meeting his, a grin plastered on his face. His gaze feel heavy, undressing her with his eyes.

"W..what were you thinking sending me things like that?" She stammered, biting on the inside of her cheek as she inched closer.

Brows raising and head cocking to the side, he sneered at the question. "Hm, seems like you can't take what you dish out." He stated in

a matter-of-fact tone.

Taking a step towards her, tongue prodding the side of his cheek. "Hard to focus, huh?" He taunted.

Yn averted her gaze from his, goosebumps running up her body. "I don't know what you're talking about?" She fibbed, picking at her finger nails.

Closing the gap between them, Xiao placed two fingers under her chin lifting it to pull her attention to him. "Is that so? Where's all that confidence at now?" He mocked, fingers dropping from her chin - trickling them down to her blouse where he flicked one open.

"I bet soaking." Smirk deepened, free hand creeping up her skirt, slipping into her panties. The fabric wet between his fingers as he pulled them to her knees. "Just as I thought."

Pressing her knees together, yn whined. "Okay, fine you win." The smelled of his lingering cologne had her dizzy. "Win? This was never about winning." Knee separating her thighs, brushing against her unclothed pvssy.

"Just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine." His breath fanning over the side of her face.

Stepping out of the soaked piece of fabric, Xiao sweeps her off her feet. Yn squealed when her body was thrown over her firm shoulder. Kicking her legs and hitting at his back in an attempt to free herself.

"Don't get all scared now." He chuckled tossing her on to the bed, her body bouncing as it connects with the sheets. "Wait I..I.." She trembled.

The look in his dark gaze had her heart racing, he looked like a predator hunting for his prey. Yn pushed herself back only for his large hand to grip her ankles and yank her back down to him.

"Come on, you don't wanna play?" He teased, pepperint kisses to the skin of her ankle. She wanted him to devour her, but she refused to give in the way he wanted.

As much as she wanted to refuse, her body responded in a completely different way. Moan slipping from her moan when his icey fingers teased her dripping heat. "Don't.." She whined, hips lifting into his touch.

"I think you want me to." Fingers curling into her wetness, Xiao rutted against the mattress, the smell of her arousel making his head spin.

"I can't take this." He breathed out, hiking up her pencil skirt. The tips of his fingers digging into her hips as he grinded against her. "Mm..please Xiao." Her words igniting in him just as he snapped his hips into her, cvck slamming into her cervix.

Moans shaking through her body, yn no matter how many times he's ravished her body - still couldn't get used to how thigh he was.

How she could practically feel him in her stomach every time he pushed into her, skin burning under his grasp. He knew exactly how to get her drunk off the feeling of him inside her.

The buttons of her shirt flying as he rips her blouse open, hands darting down to grip at the soft flesh spilling from her bra.

Yn legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper - wanting to feel him close. "Sh!t baby, you feel so good." He grunted, eyes sparkling with lust.

Proping her self up on one elbow, the other holding onto the back of her neck, she hissed as she watched his cvck slide in and out of her.

Watching her actions, Xiao pulled himself out of her, turning her over underneath him. "Keep your eyes on the mirror." He kissed behind her ear, hands sliding down the arch in her back.

Giving a slap to her *ss as he slips back into her, one hand placed on her shoulder the other on her hip.

Trying to keep her eyes on the sight in front of her, yn cried out at how deep he was pumping into her. Eyes fluttering open and closed as her climax inched near.

"I'm close." She moaned, hands gripping onto the base board in front of her. She watched his face contorted in ecstasy behind her, his chest flexing with every thrust.

"Cvm on my cvck, pretty baby." Just like that, she screamed out his name as her orgasm shook through her. Legs buckling beneath her, face falling into the sheets while he fvcked through her high.

"God girl." He taunted, lip tucking between his teeth as he spewed into her. The feeling causing yn to clench around him.

Her body falling flat to the bed when he moved from behind her. Breath shaking, eyesight blurry - she was on cloud nine.

The feeling of a warm cloth against her sensitive pvssy pulling her from her mindless state. Looking over her shoulder, Xiao standing by the edge of the bed, a accomplished grin on his face as he wiped his lover clean.

"Oh don't look at me like that." She huffed, throwing one of the pillows at him. Sitting up once he finished. "Seems I beat you at your own game." He teased, tossing the plush pillow back at her.