#that was a really interesting thing to think about and talk about

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Some no pressure tags: @yawping-poets-society @rywritess @make-much-of-time idk I can’t think of any mutuals off the top of my head that I didn’t see above already, so like anyone I’m forgetting, very fond of you I promise I’m just having a lapse of memory rn, of course feel free to join in, open tags

I feel like making one of those uquiz and picrew chains with these random ones I found sooo

Take this quiz and find out what instrument you are and thennnn

make a lil guy with this picrew :))))

(As a viola player I’m VERY offended. So offended, offended beyond belief. But hey kitty :)) )

@ilivebyshipping @glassesgirlies @lusxnei6

[uniquexusposts]

Jumping into assumptions | C. Leclerc

Summary: Charles had always considered Y/n his best friend, never imagining anything beyond their close bond. But one evening, when he realized he had fallen in love with her, he finally asked her out, and to his surprise, Y/n agreed.

The world knew Y/n as the heart of their friend group; the one everyone protected, the one who never raised her voice, the one who somehow made every place feel like home. She was the kind of girl who brought people together, the glue of their chaotic little friend group. And for as long as Charles had known her, people just assumed she was taken.

It was a running joke among their friends, really. Every time a guy showed interest in Y/n, someone would pipe up with a playful, "Oh, sorry, but she’s definitely taken," or, "Her boyfriend wouldn’t like that." The irony? She never actually had a boyfriend. And she never corrected them.

Charles had never given it much thought before. Not when they were younger, and certainly not when they fell into this unspoken rhythm of being each other’s constant. It was always Y/n beside him, laughing at his terrible jokes, rolling her eyes at his dramatics, nudging his shoulder when he got too arrogant. And, without realising it, Charles had started falling. Hard.

He’d known for a while that she was special to him, more than just a friend, but he'd convinced himself that it didn’t matter. She was Y/n. They were best friends. Nothing more. Besides, if he started thinking about her like that, who would he turn to when things were tough? Who would keep him grounded and remind him not to take himself too seriously? Who would be there to laugh with him through all the absurdities life threw their way?

It hit him one evening in Monaco, when they were all gathered at a rooftop bar, the sky burning in hues of orange and pink. Y/n was sitting across from him, laughing, properly laughing, at something a friend of theirs had said. Her head tilted back, her eyes shining, her joy so contagious that even Charles found himself grinning.

She was beautiful, of course, but it wasn’t just her looks that made his heart skip a beat. It was the way her laugh filled the air, the way she made everything seem brighter. She was magic, pure and simple.

And then it hit him.

They told him that to make her fall in love, they had to make her laugh. But every time she laughed, he was the one who fell in love.

His stomach twisted. How had he not seen it before? The way he always looked for her first in a crowded room. The way he cared a little too much when someone flirted with her. The way his world felt lighter when she was around. He was in love with his best friend.

He must've been staring, because suddenly, Y/n's gaze flickered to his, her smile faltering just slightly. "What's up?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity, the way she always sounded when she caught him in the act of thinking too much.

Charles hesitated. He could brush it off, make a joke, pretend he wasn’t on the verge of losing his mind over her. But then she smiled; soft, questioning, beautiful, and he knew he couldn't keep pretending.

“Nothing,” he said at first, then exhaled a quiet laugh. "Just… wondering if anyone’s ever actually asked you."

Her brows furrowed. "Asked me what?"

He opened his mouth, ready to say something casual, like always, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he found himself leaning in slightly, suddenly aware of how close they were. The noise around them faded, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

"If you had a boyfriend," he said softly, his voice quieter than usual, almost a whisper. "Instead of assuming."

Y/n blinked, lips parting slightly. The rest of their friends were still talking, still laughing, but in this moment, it was just the two of them, suspended in some kind of strange limbo.

"No," she admitted, her voice barely above the noise around them. "No one ever has."

Charles’ heart pounded in his chest. It was a simple answer, but it was the most profound thing he’d heard in a long time. He felt the weight of it settle over him, like something had shifted in the air between them. She’d never been asked. Not once. Not seriously. And that realisation hit him harder than anything.

There was a brief silence between them, the kind that spoke volumes. Charles could feel the tension building, a knot forming in his stomach. The alcohol in his veins buzzed through him, making everything seem sharper, clearer. His thoughts, usually muddled, were now crystallised. This wasn’t just a casual conversation. This was the moment, the one he didn’t even know he was waiting for.

He leaned forward, closer, his gaze locking onto hers, steady and unwavering. "Then let me be the first," he said, his voice low, almost tentative. "Let me take you out. Properly. No assumptions, no misunderstandings. I will show you how it works, so you at least can say that you have been on a proper date once."

Y/n’s breath caught, her eyes wide with surprise. Charles could see the wheels turning in her head, the questions, the hesitation. But what struck him was how the uncertainty melted away, replaced by something softer, something more open. And then she smiled, a smile he had never seen before; not the playful, teasing one he was so used to, but something different, something just for him.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the bar.

Charles’ heart leapt in his chest. "Yeah?" he asked, just to make sure. His voice was barely more than a breath, a mix of hope and disbelief.

"Yeah," she said again, her lips curling into that same soft smile. "Okay."

And just like that, everything changed. The boy who had spent years making her laugh, who had always been her constant, realised he never wanted to stop. He never wanted to be just friends.

—

The next day, Charles was practically bouncing with excitement. He couldn’t believe it. Y/n had said yes. They had both been floating in the same space for so long, so close to something more, but neither of them had ever crossed that line. Until now.

He texted her almost immediately, already planning their date in his mind. He couldn’t wait to see her, to spend time with her, and to finally, finally, be more than just the guy who made her laugh. He wanted to be the guy who made her heart race, too.

They met later that evening at a small, cosy restaurant in Monaco, one that Charles had carefully chosen for its intimacy, its quiet charm. When Y/n walked in, her smile instantly lit up the room, and Charles felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest. It was different now, though. There was an air of anticipation, a new energy between them that neither could ignore.

"You look amazing," Charles said, genuinely taken aback by how beautiful she looked, her hair cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, her dress simple but elegant.

Y/n blushed, clearly flustered by the compliment. "You clean up well yourself," she teased, sitting down across from him.

Charles chuckled, the nerves melting away the longer they talked. It was like they were slipping into their old routine, but with something new and exciting beneath the surface. Every joke felt more meaningful. Every smile felt more significant.

"You know," Charles said after a while, as they shared a dessert, "I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"Why haven’t you ever corrected people when they say you have a boyfriend?" he asked, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity. "I mean, you’re obviously not dating anyone, so… why let people assume?"

Y/n looked down at her dessert, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate as she thought for a moment. "I guess… I never really saw the point. It was not like, if I would say anything about it, that I would be heard,” she said finally, lifting her eyes to meet his. "It was easier to let them assume than explain it at some point. Plus, I wasn’t sure anyone would even ask me, you know? I mean, no one asked me before so then I mustn’t be in the game to date, I guess.”

Charles felt a pang of guilt, realising how long he’d let things go without stepping up. Without seeing her as more than just his best friend. “Don’t say that,” he replied. 

She shrugged.  “At some point, you will assume it is your own fault, or that you are the issue. I grew up with that. I don’t know any better. I have accepted it.”

“I should’ve asked you sooner," he admitted, his voice soft, almost apologetic.

Y/n smiled again, a small, knowing smile. "Well, you’ve finally asked," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And I’m glad you did."

They weren’t just best friends anymore. They were something more. And for the first time, Charles couldn’t wait to see where this new chapter would take them.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CHEST PAIN ( I LOVE ) yu jimin x reader

♪ ❝please, I wanna see what we would be if you were by my side❞

⭢ moonstruck good luck, babe! (lowkey don’t need to read these but it might give small context to things)

↳ warnings paranoia!yn, pre debut paranoia, fluff, angst, idol/trainee au

jimin always thought yn was a pretty cool girl. she was rebellious, but that just made her even more intriguing. during her training period, jimin couldn’t help but notice how yn and the two boys she was always with had a different approach to training. they were constantly separated from the other trainees, which only made jimin more curious.

her curiosity grew even more when she found out the reason they were always apart. they weren’t just training. the three of them were creating music for the artists under the company.

to be honest, she didn’t like that the company kept these three talented trainees hidden away in a basement, creating music for already established artists.

then she became one of those artists.

there was something different about yn, that was the only thought running through jimin’s mind as she glanced over the lyrics for i’m unhappy. she couldn’t ignore the nervous flutter in her chest under the girl’s steady gaze.

“you sounded good before, I don’t know why you feel like you need to push yourself even more.”

jimin scoffed, rolling her eyes as she set the lyrics down on the table. “I’m literally a singer. pushing myself is the job.”

yn hummed, a small smirk playing on her lips. “sounds exhausting.”

“so is making songs for people who barely acknowledge you exist.”

yn let out a short laugh at that, shaking her head. “you and I both know that’s not true, everyone requests me.”

it was easy, this kind of back and forth. jimin had always admired yn from afar, but it was different now that they were sitting across from each other, actually talking. yn wasn’t just a name on a credits list anymore she was real, tangible, and somehow even more intriguing up close.

but what really got to her was the way yn spoke. she wasn’t like other producers jimin had worked with. she didn’t sugarcoat things or tiptoe around egos. she was blunt, but not in a cruel way just honest.

it was refreshing. and maybe a little bit dangerous.

because jimin was starting to think she wanted more.

it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d worked together. yn had been making music for the group since their debut. but this was the first time jimin felt something more, felt attracted to her.

maybe it was because yn was still technically a trainee, with her own debut coming up, yet she carried herself with the kind of confidence that made her stand out even in a room full of idols.

or maybe it was because jimin was just now allowing herself to acknowledge how drawn to her she really was. whatever the reason, she found herself making excuses to be around yn more often, finding ways to keep the conversations going after their recording sessions. she wasn’t even subtle about it.

“you wanna hang out?” yn had stared at her like she’d just asked her to commit a crime. karina almost laughed at the expression.

“what? you scared of me or something?”

“no,” yn replied quickly. then, after a pause, “maybe.” that did make jimin laugh. “c’mon. I don’t bite.”

yn hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “why?”

jimin blinked. “why what?”

“why do you wanna hang out with me?”

jimin tilted her head, pretending to think about it. “hmm. maybe I just think you’re interesting.”

yn scoffed. “that’s a lie.”

“so what if it is?”

yn exhaled, shaking her head. “fine. but just so you know, I don’t do relationships.”

karina shrugged. “that’s perfect. I’m an idol. I don’t need the weight of a relationship either, and your band or whatever is debuting soon so it’s a win.”

and just like that, it started.

their fling started as a casual thing something unspoken but understood between them. jimin was an idol, yn was debuting soon, and neither of them needed anything serious.

but casual didn’t explain the way jimin found herself lingering after studio sessions, watching yn with an intensity she couldn’t even begin to explain.

“you always stare this much?” yn asked one night, barely looking up from her laptop as she adjusted the levels on a track.

jimin scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not staring.”

yn smirked, finally turning her head to look at her. “you’re literally staring.”

jimin shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “maybe I just think you’re interesting.”

yn arched a brow. “hmm. that’s a lie.”

“so what if it is?”

yn’s shook her head as she returned her focus to the screen. “you’re not as smooth as you think you are, y’know, you’ve already pulled that on me before.”

jimin rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

late night convenience store runs became a routine. sometimes it was because jimin was craving something specific, other times it was because yn needed a break from the studio.

“ramyeon or kimbap?” jimin asked, standing in front of the shelves.

yn, crouched by the ice cream freezer, glanced up. “both.”

jimin snorted. “you eat like a guy.”

“I do not.” yn shot back, tossing a carton of ice cream into the basket.

jimin grinned. “you do, it’s not your fault babe I blame wonbin and jay.”

“shut up.”

they sat on the curb outside the store, eating in comfortable silence. the streetlights cast a soft glow around them, and for a moment, jimin let herself forget that this wasn’t something real.

that it couldn’t be real.

“you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t an idol?” yn asked suddenly, voice quiet.

jimin thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. it felt like I was training forever. this is all I know.”

yn hummed, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers. “I think I’d be a producer. like, full time. not just a trainee stuck in a basement.”

jimin frowned at that. she never liked the way yn talked about herself like she was just some hidden secret the company kept locked away. “you’ll debut soon.”

“yeah.” yn’s lips curled into something unreadable. “but even then, I think i’ll always be more useful behind the scenes.”

jimin didn’t like that answer.

she nudged yn’s knee with her own. “you’re gonna be big, you know.”

yn gave her a skeptical look. “oh yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin grinned. “and then you’ll be the one barely acknowledging the people making your songs.”

yn laughed. “you suck at pep talks, and you know I would never letting anyone anyone but me and the boys touch our tracks.”

jimin just smiled, but she meant what she said.

it was small moments like these quiet, intimate, real that made it hard for jimin to pretend this was just a fling.

but she knew better than to cross that line.

except… sometimes it felt like they already had.

like when yn would adjust jimin’s mic during recordings, her fingers grazing the side of her neck just a little too long.

or when they were packed in a van after a late night session, and yn leaned her head against jimin’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

or when they were watching a variety show one night, and wonyoung popped up on screen.

“isn’t she so pretty?” jimin said, not thinking much of it.

yn tensed. it was subtle, but jimin noticed.

“she’s okay,” yn muttered. “i’m more of an irene girl.”

jimin raised a brow. “ohhh, you’re into older women.”

yn smirked, turning her head to look at her. “yeah. that’s why i’m hanging with you.”

jimin choked on air. “shut up.”

yn just laughed, leaning back against the couch with that same confident ease that always drove jimin a little insane.

it was in moments like these when jimin’s heart skipped a beat, when she found herself wanting to reach out and pull yn closer that she realized she was in trouble.

she was catching feelings.

and it scared her.

she knew what yn had told her from the start. she knew. but that didn’t stop her from wanting.

and that was dangerous.

so a few days before paranoia’s debut under sm, jimin made a choice.

she ended it.

yn was quiet for a long moment, then she simply nodded. “okay.”

but jimin saw the way she tensed the way her fingers curled just slightly, like she was bracing for impact. and suddenly, jimin was remembering the only other time she’d seen yn react like that.

jimin swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile. “good luck on your debut.”

yn nodded again, and jimin turned, leaving the room before she could change her mind.

the second she was alone, the tears finally fell.

if only jimin had just told yn how she felt.

because fortunately no, unfortunately  yn felt the same way.

maybe she should’ve just been honest.

and maybe then, her tears wouldn’t have seen a single day.

[beneathsilverstars]

i think if you’re doing mirabelle’s rpg. you have to put isat right in the middle. i think it should go like… she goes through vaugarde collecting the orbs and noticing all these mysteries about her companions and mourning all the frozen towns, and she wants to get to know her friends better, and figure out what’s bothering them and help with it, and go do fun touristy things with them, etc etc, but they have a country to save. there’s no time, and everything is frozen. if that wasn’t the case, they wouldn’t even be traveling together at all! and the whole time mirabelle’s struggling with anxiety and imposter syndrome and the weight of being The Savior. she has to fix things but she can’t, she wants to help her friends but she can’t, she has to change but she doesn’t want to. she’s getting a bad grade in rpg protagonist!!!

but then we hit isat. and you expect it to be the culmination of mirabelle’s arc, but she’s not ready for that yet, just like she’s felt unprepared and unworthy all game, stuck in this role, under the weight of everyone’s expectations — of course doing the thing everyone wants her to do can’t be mirabelle’s defining moment, no matter how much she also believes in the importance of the quest. when she vanquishes the king, it doesn’t actually fix any of her personal problems. it wasn’t even really about her.

instead, the focus of this event is on siffrin, since it turns out the unchanging king was his foil all along, not mirabelle’s. mysteries are answered about both siffrin and the king, but more importantly — this is the turning point for everyone. the result of the most seemingly-stand-offish character’s arc is the key to making progress in everyone else’s: the party admits they care about each other and decides to keep traveling together.

the second half of the game, then, is going backwards through vaugarde, visiting all the same places again. and now that they’re not on their blessed quest in the name of change, they DO have time and they ARE all officially friends. everyone gets a little arc, echoing the five orbs, starting with isat as siffrin’s. they’re still clearing out sadnesses — and there’s some really strong ones as everyone takes stock of how much time has passed and how much damage has been done — but they don’t respawn anymore. people are starting to recover! and instead of dungeon puzzles, there’s fetch quests and mini games as the party helps vaugarde rebuild. a lot of the quests relate to things they saw while frozen, a bunch of mysteries and tragedies that they can finally DO something about. and in the same way, the family can finally get closer and talk about important things and meet each other’s friends/family and share their interests etc etc, all these old mysteries and maybe-some-days getting resolved!

and then, finally. mirabelle has been doing work that she CHOSE, helping vaugarde rebuild. and sometimes people use the opportunity to rebuild differently, but sometimes people just want the same familiar things back, and that’s not actually bad, it’s nothing like being frozen. you can keep living in the same house but making new memories, fixing things as needed, both different and the same. and mirabelle realizes that she doesn’t need to change. she realizes she has changed, and she will keep changing, but she can stay the same the whole time too. she doesn’t need to be what people expect, not the perfect housemaiden or the rpg protagonist savior. she can just strive to be the best version of herself!!

and that’s the end of the game, bc mirabelle isn’t trying to figure out how to do everything right to win the game anymore. she’s just living ^^

[huldine]

I was originally going to put this in the tags, but then realized that I had about 3 pages worth of frustrated, pent-up emotions that were pouring out... and I might as well just add it to the post!

I feel so confused by the insanely pervasive headcanons that exist about Solas in fan spaces, and are repeated as if they're fact or canon in game-- whether to degrade his character or try to defend him!

I've played this game for almost a decade now and one thing that I always remembered and knew about Solas, was that he had an incredible amount of banter and conversation pertaining to ALL peoples-- whether dwarven, human, qunari, elven, etc. that talked about UNIVERSALS.

The Qunari baker who presses a single pinch of sugar in each loaf of bread as she starts her day? He speaks with such OPEN admiration of her, because he FAMOUSLY admires that resistance no matter who it comes from!! He admires and is interested in UNIVERSALS, despite his resentment and regrets about his own actions that reshaped the entire world.

He discusses faith with Cassandra, and admires the strength of her spirit and convictions-- even if he has disagreements with the Chantry itself, or the Andrastian faith and it's frequent attacks against dissent (especially towards elven communities).

He doesn't want to "bring back the old world" because he thinks that the ELVES are the best, or that he wants to kill every other race-- he wants to REVERSE the action that he made which fundamentally changed the world forever, and for the worse (in his eyes).

I truly believe that this (in my opinion) mischaracterization happens because of his race-locked romance, which gives this really strange habit of discourse claiming that "only lavellan opens his mind to the idea that modern people are actually people" despite him having a similar if not IDENTICAL conversation every other befriended Inquisitor! And you can believe that the conversation is condescending or offensive, but the fundamentals of it are the same for every race-- he grows to admire you as a representation of what the modern world (that he incidentally created) has wrought.

Solas is at his core a NUANCED individual, and that's exactly what makes his character so interesting and able to spark all of these discussions and discourses about his intentions, beliefs, and motivations. It is such a huge disservice to morph him into this simplistic individual that hates other people when he is genuinely a curious person, who sees connections of the universals between all people.

P.S (i ran out of space in the tags again...): If he actually hated other races or more specifically in this example QUNARI then we would not hate the Qun as much as he does. It is BECAUSE he dislikes the Qun because of it's (in his belief) repressive and controlling nature over the individuality of the soul, that we can understand that he 1) DOES see qunari (as a race) as people that have the same universals as himself and 2) ADMIRES the resistance that he can recognize within his own nature shared among people such as the Baker.

^^^ and this is NOT targeted against people that critique his interactions with qunari or beliefs about the Qun, because trust me as an arab I understand the parallels between this and a lot of anti-Islam rhetoric which parades right-wing and racist rhetoric beneath claims of "compassion."

This is specifically for people who reduce his character down to a simplistic headcanon that fits into a neat little box of "he just likes elves da most," ignoring the most fundamental aspects of his world view which are again based in UNIVERSALS, his own sense of morality and ethics, and most especially RESISTANCE against injustice.

Once again genuinely confused by people who claim Solas is obsessed with empire and elven glory and restoring Arlathan the way it was??

[ariestrxsh]

pervy!bsf!chris x innocent!bsf!reader

᧔•᧓ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, degradation, panty stealing, pillow riding, vouyerism, masturbation, chris thinks about you while having sex with another girl

᧔•᧓ summary: after chris witnesses a private moment you had with your pillow, he steals the pair of your panties you had on

requested/inspired by this ask ᧔•᧓

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

Creeping

chapters: | 1 |

"You should have seen her face," Chris told you, the corners of his lip turning up in a conceited smile. Your very experienced best friend was sitting at the edge of your bed beside you, recounting his most recent sexual encounter to you in great detail. "Eyes rolled back in her head while she took it like a little slut," Chris gazed into your eyes, leaning in and wetting his lips.

His seductive stare made your heartbeat quicken, and your body temperature rose. "While she took what like a little slut?" You innocently asked, crinkling your nose. You had a vague idea, but you were dying to hear him say it. "My cock, silly," Chris chuckled at you, nudging you in the arm.

You were a virgin, and Chris knew this. Despite never having had sex, you were very curious about the subject, and it always piqued your interest, the way Chris talked about sex. "Do girls like that? When you call them a slut?" You wondered aloud. "Depends on the girl. Some can't get enough of it," Chris replied, his voice thick with lust.

"I don't know if I'd like it. I mean, I'm not one," you giggled. "Well, I think you really like when I tell you this kind of stuff, so I don't know. You might be a little bit of a slut," Chris teased you, immediately sending blood rushing to your cheeks and a wetness between your legs. "No, I'm not!" You gently shoved him, trying to conceal your embarrassed smile. He could tell you liked it, but you weren't sure if you were allowed to like it.

"You're right. Only a little slut would wanna hear me talk about how I filled up another girl and watched it all drip out," he snickered, watching the way you blushed at his words. You bit your lip, and a micro-expression of desire slipped into your facial features. You couldn't help the way your body was reacting to him.

Chris grew hard from watching your reactions to his escapades, especially because he knew you'd always had a big crush on him, and he knew how much you liked picturing him in such a compromising position despite the fact that you tried to hide it. "You're imagining it, aren't you?" Chris taunted you, reading your body language and searching your features with his blue eyes.

"I am not!" You huffed in response, denying his claim and crossing your arms over your chest. "If you say so," Chris said, remaining unconvinced. "Well, I'm gonna head out. I'm going to see that girl again," Chris responded, getting up from your bed and pulling you into a long hug.

You felt a range of emotions - incredibly turned on by the images he'd just filled your head with, but you also felt jealous and heartbroken. You couldn't help the way you felt for Chris, and you desperately wanted to be the one that he was doing all of those things to. However, you knew he was a player, and you figured he'd only ever go for the experienced girls anyway.

"Stay out of trouble while I'm gone, hmm?" He joked, ruffling your hair. After he kissed you on the forehead, which awakened a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, he took off down your stairs and out your front door.

He got into his car, turned the key in the ignition, and rolled down his windows, letting the fresh air in. He was right about to turn on some music when he patted both his jeans pockets in search of his phone only to remember he'd left it in your bedroom. He sighed, cutting the engine and making his way back up to your house.

He knocked on the door and waited a few moments, but when you didn't answer, Chris decided to let himself in. It's not like he could call you.

He climbed back up your stairs, his heavy shoes hitting the ground beneath him as he hurried. He wandered down your hallway, heading towards your room. He could see his phone sitting face up on top of your vanity through the crack in the door. "Hey, I -" Chris started to say, but as he nearly entered your bedroom, he abruptly stopped and watched in awe.

There you were on your bed, eyes screwed shut, eyebrows pinned together, and lips parted as you straddled your pillow, rocking your hips back and forth. You were using one hand to stabilize yourself on the bed, and the other was clutching your breast through your shirt. A smug smile crossed Chris' face as he peeped on you from the hallway.

His hand immediately flew up to his hard cock, and he started gently palming it as he fixed his gaze on your expression. No wonder you hadn't heard his knock or his voice before he'd nearly walked in unannounced. You were completely immersed in pleasure, grinding away on your pillow.

You bucked your hips faster, reaching up your blouse and gently rolling your nipple between two of your fingertips, unknowingly flashing him the underside of your breast. The boy you were fantasizing about while doing such a vulnerable thing was still staring at you through the crack in the door, mouth wide open and eyebrows raised.

"Oh, fuck," Chris quietly whispered to himself as the scene unfolded before him, reaching into his jeans and wrapping his fingers around his cock. He started pumping his hand over his length, every once in a while, lightly brushing over his tip that was beginning to gush with precum.

Your breath was picking up, your hips were moving back and forth at a faster pace as you felt the wonderful tension in your lower stomach. "Oh, Chris," he heard you hiss as your whole body trembled. You came unraveled, moans unfurling from your lips as you threw your head back. You were completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, your thrashing hips starting to slow to an unhurried grind.

A satisfied smile crept across your face as you glanced down at the wet spot on your pillow case. Chris immediately stopped jerking off, worried you'd look up and see him through the crack in your door. He tucked his erection back into his pants and hurriedly closed his zipper.

You tugged the pillowcase off and threw it on the floor. You pulled yourself to your feet, your legs still feeling weak and wobbly from your intense orgasm. Chris watched as you faced away from him, pulling down your bottoms and tugging off your shirt, discarding them on the ground next to your soiled pillowcase.

He admired your curves, taking in the sight of your perfectly shaped ass and the way it bounced as you walked into your connected bathroom. You shut the door behind you, a click sounding as it latched shut, and he heard the shower kick on. His eyes were drawn to the mess of clothes in the middle of your bedroom floor.

There laid the band t-shirt you'd just had on, the cut off shorts you were just in, and the pink panties you were just wearing. He creeped into your room, leaned down, and picked your underwear up off the floor. They were pretty and silky, and Chris immediately noticed the soaked spot on the front of them.

A faint smirk graced his features as he stuffed them into his back pocket. He was so enamored with what he'd just seen, he nearly forgot his phone, the whole reason he'd come back in the first place. He slipped back out before you had any idea.

Once you got out of the shower, you gathered the pile of clothes. You were about to throw them in your hamper and take them to do your laundry when you noticed an important item was missing. You started to search around, looking under your bed, under the floor mat in your bathroom, and you even started to question if you'd even worn underwear that day, which would have been strange for you not to notice you'd forgotten to put them on.

You eventually gave up on finding them, certain that they'd turn up at some point, and you walked off with your hamper to go wash the rest of your clothes. Chris found himself in his most recent hook up's bed, bending her over while he took her from behind.

Things had gotten so heated between the two of them so quickly that they hadn't even made it all the way out of their clothes. Chris had lazily pulled his date's thong to the side with his pants still halfway on when he'd stuck his cock into her. The only problem was Chris couldn't get you off his mind.

He was in the middle of delivering a powerful thrust when he remembered he had your panties. Chris was usually against thinking about someone else when he was having sex with a woman, because he considered it rude, and he wanted to be fully present with the person in front of him, but it felt like he had no control over what happened next.

He retrieved the silk fabric from his back pocket, admiring how pretty they were once again. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that they'd had direct contact with your pussy and how you'd soaked through them while thinking about him. He closed his eyes and pressed the soft material up to his nose, taking a deep inhale, your arousal filling his senses.

He sped up his movements, his date moaning his name and begging him to fill her up again. He couldn't help himself. He kept imagining it was you beneath him, his mind swirling with how your cunt would feel stretching around him for the first time and how his name would sound leaving your lips in your most desperate moment. It was almost too much for him to handle.

"Take it. Take my cock like the little slut you know you are," he whispered, pretending you were the one he was saying it to. "Chris! Don't stop!" The woman beneath him practically screamed as her pussy started rhythmically clenching around his length. With your panties still balled up in his fist, Chris came, pumping his date full of his warm, sticky load with the thought of you humping your pillow and moaning his name still lingering in his mind.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, driving his dick as far deep in as it could go into her before coming to a stop. "Wow, Chris. That was amazing," she breathlessly said, slumping forward into her pillow as she recovered. A smirk spread across his lips. He loved hearing how good he was from his satisfied partners.

He quickly shoved your panties back into his back pocket, cleared his throat, and pulled out. "Fuck, that never gets old," he whispered, watching his seed overflowing from her hole and spilling out onto the sheets. "You're such a perv, Chris," his date laughed, rolling her eyes, secretly loving that about him. "I'm not as pervy as you are slutty," he shot back, chuckling and pulling up his boxers and his jeans. "Can't argue with that," she said, smiling as she shifted around her bed to face him.

"Hey, are you okay? The sex was great and all, but you just seem preoccupied, like you're mentally checked out or something," she asked, cradling his face while her gaze met his. Chris' eyes quickly veered away from her's, a bit of guilt seeping into his conscience. He liked getting off to you, but he didn't like thinking about you when he was with another girl, and he felt bad that she could feel his displaced energy.

"You know, I'm sorry. My mind is just kinda somewhere else right now," he admitted, shrugging. "Come on. Lay down with me. Let's talk about it," she said, covering herself in her sheet as she curled up into her bed. Chris shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I can't stay the night tonight. I have a lot to think about," Chris replied, grabbing his shirt off the floor and throwing it on. "That's okay. Maybe next time?" She smiled. He leaned in and kissed her. "Goodnight," he said before leaving her house.

Chris stepped out into the darkness. He heard the crickets chirping nearby and the distant sound of cars whooshing passed each other on the overpass. He unlocked his car door and collapsed down into his seat to join the rest of the late night drivers, wondering what had gotten into him and why he still couldn't get you out of his head.

[babachira]

an assassin and his healer

nagumo yoichi x doctor!reader

── ⟢

+ having graduated with an assassination-medical major, a very small sub-department in the JCC where only the skilled in human science are found, you're technically a licensed doctor for any regular citizen who wants a simple check-up. you have a job in the clinic near sakamoto's store during the day, but during your assassination hours, you deal with injuries ranging from critical to a scratch. you took four years of apprenticeship under granny miya, so you tend to follow her ideology of 'the patient can be healed as long as they're not dead'.

+ your graduation was a special case. the JCC considered scrapping your department due to the lack of applications, but you excelled in combining the assets of poisons and weapons, making equipment like a portable bandaid or even discovering the smallest of pressure points that could enhance someone's strength, which floored their views. after witnessing a presentation of your projects, they decided to keep it up and running just to see what you were capable of, and thank god they did, otherwise, you would've had nowhere to go.

+ you met the famous trio during their prime when you were all 16, and you were fully aware of the fact that if they had no interest in someone, it would be drastically clear. you thought this was the case for you too since no one really appreciated your work because it wasn't 'strong' like the assassination majors, but when you received a personal congrats from them, it took you by surprse.

+ hell, when you saw them enter your lab without a word, you quirked your brows, pausing from pulling the trigger of your flamethrower. upon request from your weapons department friends, you were in the middle of melting a large batch of energy-fuelling pills. you slowly put the flamethrower down on your desk. "if i knew i was having such esteemed guests, i would've cleaned the place up a bit. to what do i owe the pleasure?"

+ but before they could answer, the three of them were hovering over your pile of books, empty beakers and box of surgical equipment. rion plucked a grey glass bottle from your top shelf, which you reserved for your most expensive creations, before popping the lid off.

+ she sniffed the top of it and gave a "hm!" of approval before taking a swig. "wow, this is actually pretty good," rion said, smacking her lips together and offering some to sakamoto, who only took the bottle from her hands, "what's this one for? my stomach feels like it's doing backflips."

+ you folded your arms. "that's because it's for serious internal bleeding. you're only really meant to take it when, you know, you're only puking an alarming amount of blood." rion nodded in acknowledgement and dangled the empty bottle with a grin. "ah, gotcha. no internal bleeding for me now!"

+ "mmm, i prefer this flavour." your eyes flit over to nagumo yoichi, the insufferable student that had all the girls swooning in seconds, swiping four potions from your shelf and stuffing them in his pocket. "i'll come back again to try more!"

+ "wait, you just came here to take my stuff?" you asked, stopping the three in their tracks. sure, it's . . . fine that they stole your things without permission, but your lab was usually off-limits for those who didn't belong in your department. well, now that you think about it, when did these three ever follow rules?

+ rion waved her hand. "we'd love to talk, babes, but we gotta dash. will use these potions well, though!"

+ and nagumo added with a more enthusiastic wave, "keep a separate shelf just for me!"

+ and they left, leaving you to finish your work of delivering pills to the weapons department. they were a funny bunch, you always thought as you sometimes passed by them in the hallway. rion would always strike a conversation whenever you bumped into each other. she was always so sweet to you. sakamoto occasionally asked how your projects were going since it was a season of missions being carried out more often than ever, so you were ever-so-busy with surgeries. nagumo had the biggest grin on his face as he bombarded you with requests like a strawberry and lemon flavoured potion for his fatigue. they were strange but fun all the same.

+ since then, they made a common appearance, sometimes it was just rion who wanted to have a chat. you got along well, getting to know her likes and dislikes, laughing along when she verbally tore sakamoto and nagumo apart like they were shreds of paper. other times, it was nagumo alone and when it was just him, it was like a spitfire of insults after insults.

+ when nagumo is fiddling with one of your brain-relaxing equipments that you made just a week ago, he realises that you're a lot quieter when it's just him, when rion and sakamoto aren't present. "hm? why is it when akao and sakamoto are here, you have so much to say, but you're silent when it's me?" and honestly, it felt like a big slap to the face because wow, it was true.

+ ". . . shut up," you said, earning a chuckle from him. "the whole building will be able to hear you yapping."

+ today, a few years after their first intrusion in your lab, nagumo is taller and different at the age of 19. he wasn't more mature per se, but he definitely carried a more confident wittier aura that you didn't recognise from before. you, at 19 were renowned for your fantastic creations. one of your best moments was when you received a commission from an order member albeit a small one. your efforts were so well-recognised that applications for your department were growing much to your pleasure. rion congratulated you a lot, sakamoto actually used your creations and nagumo had never broken his streak of making sure to visit you almost everyday.

+ and you don't know when you started to feel this way, but whenever nagumo entered the room, time seemed to go painfully slower as though he was staying in your lab for longer than you thought. your equations for perfecting brain damage potions seemed harder than normal and you just couldn't seem to find that one blueprint that was always in its same place. even nagumo went, "it's this one, no? it was right under your hands" much to your embarrassment. your brain was scattered whenever he was near you and you really hated it.

+ and what was worse is that he noticed all this and was enjoying it.

+ "is my (name) . . . a little distracted?"

+ yes, yes. infuriatingly so, you think as you watch nagumo bounce over to where you stand in the far corner of your lab. he has that mischevious grin, the one that you want to melt off his annoyingly-handsome face. did it never occur to him that you couldn't work at your best whenever his talkative ass was in the room? is he really that stupid that you have to say, "nagumo, i need to do my work," then deal with those big eyes of his begging to stay? if he was a little less insufferable, maybe you would've─

+ you freeze. wait, he said 'my?'

+ and nagumo, his face creased with laughter, sees the cogs whir in your brain as you finally realise that he really just indirectly labelled you as his.

+ "don't tell me you've been ignoring me for that long."

+ and much to your dismay, it hits you that yeah, he's always been there. "wow! my (name) seems to like today's lunch! i don't see you here that often!" he once commented when you sat with him at the cafeteria. "the food's not always so great, but today seems ok."

+ or the other time when you had a first-year student schedule an appointment with you because he wanted advice for his weapons. nagumo saw him waiting outside your lab. "hmm, my (name) is a bit busy today! why don't you come back later?" he said while he was opening the door to waltz in, "ah! my (name) i've come to bother you!" he sang before slamming the door. you didn't manage to see the poor kid because nagumo took up your entire evening.

+ and you really did find yourself making a separate cabinet just for nagumo. even to this day, at the ripe age of 27, you made soothing creams for burns, motion sickness pills and gums for him to chew on for whenever osaragi would drive. his placement as an order member made him busier but never enough to keep him away from you. whenever you're at the clinic for your day-job, nagumo made frequent appearances. he'd lean on the front desk and request for his usual "lovely, lovely and beautifully perfected doctor," even when you're literally standing there, typing away at the computer. "yoichi, you're really doing this on my shift." it would never stop him. "i am your shift!"

+ he's surprisingly romantic for someone with little dating history. he's had a few girlfriends in the past but because of his occupation, they obviously don't last long. with you though? though not a fully-fledged assassin yourself, you're part of that world, his world, so you understand the burden and pressure that comes with it. just like nagumo is tasked with completing his missions with no mistakes, you're equally expected to never fail a surgery, always finish on time and come up with new ideas. it's a cycle where you both have each other backs.

+ like, as much as he jokes, he's very proud of your achievements. as an order member himself, he'd probably commission you a lot and if anyone needs surgical assistance or high-tech weapons, he'd be quick to mention your name. of course, he hesitates just a little because he doesn't want to share, but for the better of your work, he puts your name out there.

+ he doesn't get heavily injured because he's scarily skilled. his 'gold assassin's license' that he boasts about keeps him protected, but just to rile you up, he'd limp in through your clinic or house, crying for the kiss of the doctor that he's come to adore. if you're at the clinic, you need to appear more professional because you have people you see everyday watching you care for this grown ass man wailing his guts out. if you're at home, you're much more relaxed and honestly, so's nagumo as he leans into your delicate touch.

+ generally, he's so proud and whipped about the fact that you're a doctor and are so capable of doing what you do. he has extensive knowledge on poisons, so he tries to add his recommendations from time to time and he's grateful whenever you take it. on the rare case that you don't, he acts hurt, "oh . . . my (name) doesn't like my idea," and he'd jokingly mope until you kiss his ego better. anything can solve this man's problems if you silence him with a kiss.

+ sakamoto's like ". . . please tell me you did not get with nagumo," and nagumo finds this hilarious. he's like, "i have an idea! let's go on double dates with you, me, aoi and (name)!" to which sakamoto rejects. he doesn't mind the idea of you being friends with his wife, of course, but he doesn't want to take nagumo anywhere.

+ sometimes, he'd disguise himself as you and nonchalantly act as if he's doing chores in your house until you come back home. so when he sees you, he points and goes, "an imposter!" and at this point, you play along, "there's my doppelganger. can you give me back my boyfriend, please." and as soon as you say that, he transforms back and grabs you.

+ life with this mf is a wild ride, but honestly, you signed up for it, so good luck. once his eyes are set on someone, he goes all in and is not about to give it up. especially when he knows how serious you are about him and he is for you. a match made in heaven!

[badger2025]

You and Jack Finnegan…Finn…have been best friends for as long as you can remember. You played football together in high school, chased pussy together, lifted weights and were as close as any brothers ever were. Y’all spent so many nights on sleepovers at each other’s houses that your families consider each of y’all as another son

It was in high school when he started dating your sister Mary

You, Mike Sullivan…Sully…were the smart one…tutoring Finn all throughout high school so he wouldn’t be dropped from the team and would graduate school on time…which he did by the skin of his teeth. He’s not stupid by any means…the subject matter just never interested him. Finn was the more mechanically minded of the two of you and taught you how to work on and maintain your truck. He could do anything with his hands

Y’all would spend days in the wilderness camping, fishing and hunting. This was Finn’s natural environment and he just had a knack when it came to the outdoors. He was always patient with you…just like you were at tutoring him…and the joy on his face when you got it figured out was infectious

“Right on Sully…I knew you could do it” He would absolutely beam

You found yourself working hard…not so much for yourself but for Finn’s approval. His smile was your reward and it always made you feel something…that ache

By your senior year you had pretty much figured out that you didn’t feel the same way about females as Finn…in fact, you realized you had feelings for him but you kept that pushed way down and went through the motions of dating girls. You couldn’t risk doing anything to jeopardize your relationship…you just wanted to be close to him even if you couldn’t have him

You had considered college…but knew that would take you away from Finn…so one night when y’all were lying in his room you made a suggestion

“I’m considering trade school…I spoke with my dad and he thinks it’s a really good idea…I think you should come with me”

“More school Sully?…I barely got through high school…I don’t know man”

“This isn’t like that man…no papers, nothing like that and we can get a solid job after”

Trade school was no joke and this time it was Finn’s turn to get you over the finish line. But you both made it and landed a good job at the same mechanical engineering company as pipe fitters…you actually enjoyed the work and got to spend your days with Finn

When he married your sister, you were his best man and smiled and laughed along with everyone else…but the ache was still there

Finn was married and living with your sister. You got your own place and started hooking up with a series of one nighters…random men just to take out your frustrations on…never anything serious and they were always gone well before Finn picked you up for work

Five years on and he’s in your apartment…y’all have been drinking beer…a lot of beer

”She’s fucking some guy she met”…he said…”Says I’m always working and she’s lonely…fuck Sully…she doesn’t work and the way she spends money…I gotta keep the lights on and food on the table”

You said nothing…only letting him vent…but all you could think is how much of a dumbass your sister is to throw away something you’d give anything to have

The beer kept flowing and that’s when Finn dropped the bomb

“I only married her to stay close to you…you’re the most solid thing I’ve ever had man…and I didn’t want to lose you” He was looking at his beer…his thumb playing with the pull tab

You sat there in stunned silence…eyes wide…just looking at him

“Shit Sully…did I just fuck up? Say something man”

Instead, you stood up and ran a hand through your hair and walked to the window. Finn got up and followed…standing apart but close enough to put his hand on your shoulder

“Sully?”

You hung your head and spoke “is this the beer talking Finn?”

He chuckled “yeah…liquid courage to finally tell you how I feel…how I been feeling”

“How long Finn?”

“High school…look man…”

That’s when you turned and pulled him into the kiss…furious and hard…hungry like neither of you had eaten in years

He was pressed against you and you could feel his throbbing tool against yours. You ran your hand over his hairy chest making him sigh against your lips…then you hooked your thumbs into the band of his briefs and dragged them down until you were eye level with his twitching dick…a string of sap hanging from the bright pink tip

You buried your face in his crotch…inhaled his musk and groaned as your tongue and beard rubbed against his nut sack…his cock was so rigid it pointed due north

He gasped…both hands on your head…fingers pulled your hair…and when you took him into your mouth he moaned and you felt his legs trembling. You swallowed him as far as you could…your right hand on the base of his shaft pulling on his tool

“Oh FUCK…Sully…oh man”

He shuddered as he shot his spunk into your throat…a bit leaking from your lips and down your chin. When he finished you stood up and kissed him…letting him taste his spunk on your tongue…he groaned and pushed his hand into your shorts groping for your dick

“Jesus Sully…that’s…impressive man”

You’d seen each other countless times naked in the locker room…but never fully erect. Finn’s dick was a happy average…stocky…like him. You were larger by a few inches and moaned into his kiss as he pulled on the sap slicked knob

You pulled him into your bedroom and pushed him down onto the bed and shucked off your shorts…dick standing proud…Finn’s eyes wide but he had that smile you ached for. You pulled him to the edge of the bed, pushed his muscled legs up to his chest and buried your face in the split of his ass. When your tongue flicked at his pucker he moaned…you went at it with everything you had. Then you flipped him onto his stomach with his knees to the floor…his renewed dick pointing south…you tongued the length from the tip of his cock to his asshole…he was groaning and pushing back into your face

You grabbed the lube from the bedside table and greased your dick

“Relax Finn”

He started to buck as you pushed into him…your torso on his back…you murmured into his ear

“You okay man?”

“Yeah Sully…never better” He gasped as you went deeper

When you were balls deep you just held it…letting him get used to you. Every time your dick would throb, he’d moan

Then you slowly pulled back…dragging your tool over his button and he let out a long low moan

“Oh God Sully…oh Jesus…fuck me Sully…just fuck me”

You started pumping…his whimpering made it even hotter and you could feel yourself getting to the threshold

“I’m gonna cum man…oh FUCK”

You were pumping him deep…flooding his guts while he bucked under you…his asshole tugging your dick as he came undone…again…shooting down the side of the bed onto the floor

Then you just lay there panting…years of pent up longing now deep inside Finn’s ass

You pulled out and stood up…chest heaving…admiring your best friends sweet ass. You placed a hand on his butt cheek and stroked his used hole with your thumb making him flinch and laugh

“Jesus Sully…that was…that was really something…I mean…fuck man”

After y’all had showered and were lying naked in your bed…the back of his head on your chest…your hand stroking his chest hair…you spoke

“It was high school for me too Finn…when I realized I had…feelings” He was quiet and you continued “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you either”

Then he sat up looking down at you…searching your eyes…he leaned in and kissed you

“We need to make up for a lot…and I do mean a lot…of lost time..…damn Sully”

Then he smiled at you again “Seems I married the wrong Sullivan”

[kaivenom]

Could you write for op dilfs about who would they share you with, pretty please?

Who would the OP Dilfs you share you with?

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

Warnings: of course, NSFW allusions

A/N: Ufff, tricky one.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

Crocodile or Shanks.

Crocodile cause they both are calm and have similar interests and ways of doing things. This combo would bring BDSM, doms, etc. and he likes the idea.

On the other hand, even though he doesn't really like Shanks, since it would be an sporadic thing, he could tolerate the fun and goofyness of the red head.

Donquixote Doflamingo

Violet, would be his desired fantasy, but most likely she would say no.

He doesn't really want another men near you but is only acceptable option would be Crocodile.

Since they both were Sichibukai, they konw each other and most important... Doflamingo respects him.

And even that Doflamingo is not going to accept it, he is also a little atracted to that man.

Sr. Crocodile

Dracule Mihawk.

He thinks he is the best and the most reasonable men to do this kind of thing.

He is ready to do it and willing to sign a contract or some kind of verbal arrangement so you can all pass a great time.

For statistics, thats what the argument would sound on Crocodiles head.

Smoker

This men is dificult cause he won't let that happen with anyone from his crew or from lower ranks on the marine, due to power inbalance.

So, the options would be Doll or maybe Hine.

But the one who has the winner ticket i believe would be Drake X, if the three of you coincide on the same place at the same time.

Since Drake is no longer an official marine, he doesn't have a ranking, so would be the best option.

No question, no problems, no seeing him on the quarters, the best option.

Akagami Shanks

Benn Beckman.

His second on charge, someone of trust and someone he knows that would make you both feel good.

Cause this isn't the first time that he does a threesome with Beckman.

He would think for a moment that it is a bad idea cause they already did it and now it is with his serious partner.

But you three talk about it and Beckamn is more than willing to do it on your terms.

[belovedenzo]

the kings of hogwarts // slytherin boys headcanons

various headcanons; appearance/style, social stance/relationships , pet peeves, favorite things, fun facts.

characters; Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zambini, Tom Riddle

words; 3.7k

warnings; cussing, sfw other than that? I think? suggestive maybe

notes; these are all my opinions so if they aren't accurate to you that's okay! If you want more various headcanons, comment some ideas and i'll make it happen :). please enjoy! reposts, likes and comments keep me motivated to make more. thank you guys for all the love on my other stories so far!

taglist; just tagging people I like! If u don’t want to be tagged please lmk! @shyamanuensis @riddlesbunny @redeemingvillains @nottsamor @nottsbaby @nottsluvv @nottsangel @riddleswhcre @enzosbabyangel @enzoberkshiresonly-deactivated2 @nottslove @nemesyaaa @obsessedwithceleste @prythiansprincess @anawritez-posts @riddlesrizzler

Theodore Nott

appearance/style;

6ft1

broad with decent muscle tone 

light chartreuse eyes

Few scattered freckles. Iconic freckle below left eye 

Light brown hair with body

A natural kubrick stare with a twist of gentleness

Sharp incisors

innocent smiles and shy grins (it’s a stick up)

doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry- occasionally a ring on his left hand

Outside of his uniform he sticks to simple colors for his clothes- beige, black, white, tan, navy, dark brown, etc.

Definitely gold over silver 

Always wearing the nicest shoes- shoes are his favorite accessory

Watch on the right arm when it’s a fancy event because he’s left handed

Wears a lot of sweaters in the winter 

social stance/relationships;

Silent but deadly. He may not cause a fight for the thrill of it like Mattheo will, but he will support and instigate his best friends angsty behavior. His naturally sweet looking face can quickly become mincing- his main tactic of intimidating his enemies and naysayers. 

Most people think he’s meaner than he is. He actually stays mostly in his own lane if it isn’t to back up the rest of the boys or join in on chaos one of them already caused. 

They are all players, sure- but Theo is kinda mean about it. Rather heartless with his hookups and doesn’t ever keep the same one for long. Romantic feelings are something he doesn’t really feel or act on. 

May be on the more cold side with girls but keeps their personal info to himself. Even to his friends he doesn’t brag or talk about it that often. 

People who do get the opportunity of being Theo’s friend say that he is very funny and has a dark sense of humor

Comes off as a lone wolf to the rest of the school- but can also very often be seen with his best friend Mattheo

Will actually stand up for the little guy- especially if on his own. If he thinks something is unfair he will call them out

Thinks that Lorenzo is the funniest in their group but tells Mattheo it’s him to make him feel better

Let’s the boys think he isn’t totally in charge of most of their affairs

Mattheo is his best friend- he thinks he’s the coolest and gets along with him the most out of any of the boys 

Him and Enzo butt heads a lot but he does love him very much

Goes to Blaise and Tom when he needs good advice or just to vent to smart people

Finds himself feeling jealous of Draco and his ability to not give a fuck (little does he know…)

pet peeves;

While he does engage in bullying with the rest of the boys he thinks Draco goes way too far sometimes. It gets on his nerves and sometimes does say something

Love and romance in any way. If he feels like any girl is catching feelings he gets the ick and leaves sooner than he would have anyways 

Hates it when Mattheo blows cigarette smoke to close to his face even though he smokes too

Thinks Enzo brags too much about himself but has never said anything 

Also thinks Enzo can talk too much in general sometimes…

If a girl he likes seems more interested in any of his friends he gets jealous. This happens with Mattheo the most and can cause them to fight

favourite things;

Alone time- as much as he loves his friends he actually does love chill time alone sometimes

He likes parties just as much as the rest of them but for him it’s because he can get super fucked up- he’s there for the muggle weed and alcohol

Potions. Out of all his classes he actually finds making potions kind of fun- his favorite classmate to make potions with is Pansy because she’s actually good at it

More into smoking than drinking- loves muggle weed. He’s always in charge of bringing it to the their smaller get togethers

Crystal Castles- if that band existed he would love it

Spicy food

Painting- even though he thinks he’s terrible at it

Hanging out with Mattheo

Early morning hours 

Skirts on girls

fun facts;

Actually speaks Italian and some Spanish 

He can out-smoke any of the boys (yes even Mattheo)

Pansy has a huge crush on him 

He never remembers his dreams 

Has dyslexia

Mattheo Riddle

appearance/style;

5ft10

Lean but prominent muscle tone

Chocolate brown eyes 

Long eyelashes

dark brown hair- lightly curly

Dough eyes

Very charming grin- but mischievous 

Wears various bracelets and a pinky ring on his left hand constantly

Mostly dark colors. Loves jackets even when not in uniform

Mostly silver, but likes gold

There’s a few rings and bracelets that he wears the most- almost every day. They are subtle but iconic

Watch on his left arm because he’s right handed

Too scared to pierce his ears

Actually likes fashion and thinks about it when he gets ready

social stance/relationships;

Terrible reputation. Known for his rude words and tendency to get into physical fights. This has a lot of people on his enemy list

He and Draco are the worst about how they treat other people in and outside of their house. He has no respect for people that feel less than him

One of the worst players- but has a select roster he mainly goes to. They are wrapped around his pinky

Can and has felt romantic feelings but never acts on it. Hides his desire to actually love someone. Thinks that would make him too vulnerable

While Draco is egotistical- Mattheo is rude for other reasons. He’s pessimistic and does it to get attention

Secretly wants validation but continues to worsen his reputation by acting out 

Thinks Theo is the funniest and the coolest. He loves his dark sense of humor. They bounce off of eachother well 

Let’s Theo think he’s in charge but it’s so obviously him- right? (right-)

While his best friend is Theo- he is also very close with Enzo

Him and his brother Tom butt heads a lotttt, they get into a lot of disagreements. He secretly loves him a lot 

Also quite close to Draco. They can relate in some ways even if they won’t admit it

Goes to Blaise when he needs advice or even when logic needs to be talked into him

All of his friends know that he is secretly super sweet and caring but outsiders don’t and he likes it that way

pet peeves;

Tom’s lack of empathy. And his lack of interest towards getting with girls- he thinks that is odd

When Tom won’t hang out with them because of an academic reason- also thinks that is odd

When a girl stops showing interest in him in any way- or if they’ve replaced him. If it’s one of his friends he’d freak

He hates all of his friends music taste. They don’t listen to good music. He thinks very highly however of his own music taste

Tests of any kind

If any of his friends take Tom’s side during one of their fights he gets super mad and it secretly hurts him a lot

favorite things;

The smiths- he would listen to the smiths a lot and I will die on that hill

The specific brand of cigarettes he smokes daily

Quidditch- Lorenzo is his favorite team mate because he’s quick

Confrontation 

Music

Attention, positive or negative 

A total night person, especially as it gets colder

Sour candy 

Reading tragic romance stories 

Horror movies

Hanging out with Theo

fun facts;

Thinks he can out-smoke Theo (he can not)

Has really crazy dreams and a hard time sleeping 

Gets seasonal depression really bad

Hates the smell of coffee but still drinks it

Has had multiple secret real gf’s that only Theo knows about

Lorenzo Berkshire

appearance/style;

6ft4 (the tallest)

Long limbs- lean. But shockingly strong, sleeper build

Amber brown eyes

Sharp jawline

A natural Kubrick stare- mean case of resting bitch face

Dark brown hair- kept on the longer side

Shows his emotions on his face through his expressions

Likes necklaces, long ones underneath his clothes. Likes rings and earrings which he wears most of the time

Mostly gold but likes silver as well

Outside of his uniform he wears a lot of pastel colors, purple and green being his favorite. Also really likes dark purple and green. Gem tones

Watch on both arms, mixed with chunky bracelets (for fancy events)

Everyone says he had really beautiful hair and he secretly always makes sure it is (he loves his hair)

Social stance and relationships;

Known as the schools biggest whore. But in a good way?

Even though he can actually be the worst- he has a good reputation. His ability to charm and seem innocent has helped him get away with a lot of things 

Generally one of the most liked out of the boys around the whole school. People fear him least and actually really want to be friends with him

Either that or they have a huge crush on him

He comes off as much more sweet than he… can be

He uses girls very disposibley. He really makes them feel like he really likes them though. He’s great at pretending to get what he wants

All of his friends know one of the worst thing about him is his habit of lying 

Over the years girls have gotten the gist of what kind of guy he truly is but it still stays rumor around school because of how well liked he is 

Treats everyone in the group like they are his best friends- but it’s probably actually Mattheo

He knows that Theo can find him annoying but thinks that’s funny. Even does it on purpose sometimes for entertainment 

Draco is his cousin and another close friend of his but secretly envy’s him because he thinks the boys like Draco more than him

Becomes the most mischievous when with Mattheo. They can act like major dicks together

Likes to hit on girls with Blaise

Goes to Tom about school stuff he struggles with. He’s not that great with academics

While he can be cold in some ways to others- with his friends he can be quite emotional 

pet peeves;

He hates that he feels the need to be perfect all the time but never can be 

It irks him that everyone thinks Mattheo is some hooligan when he’s really not 

While he likes smoking cigarettes- he thinks they all smoke too much

He has a lower tolerance and hates that he’s always the first to be super drunk 

Waking up in the morning. Always wakes up in a terrible mood until he wakes up 

Out of any of the boys he has the most patience overall

favorite things;

Getting drunk and partying. He gets invited to everything 

Having people fawn all over him. He likes that so many people like him

Flirting with other guy’s girlfriends to piss them off

Quidditch- loves playing with Mattheo and Draco

Muggle weed. Also has the lowest tolerance with that 

Hugging Draco 

Fruit. Blueberries are his favorite 

Deftones. He’d feel so cool while listening to them 

Luna Lovegood. He thinks she’s freaky in a good way

fun facts;

Has the deepest voice out of all the boys

Can run faster than anyone else at Hogwarts

Has really bad OCD 

Out of any of the boys he is most susceptible to substance abuse. Terrible addictive personality 

He hates his family and only talks about growing up with Draco 

Draco Malfoy

appearance/style;

6ft even

White blond hair 

Striking, light blue eyes

Long and lanky. The skinniest out of them

Sharp angular features

Also has resting bitch face but on purpose 

Loves jewelry- but classy jewelry and not all the time. Mostly necklaces 

Silver and silver only

Wears a lot of dark clothing- also likes gem tones. But mostly black white and grey’s

Mostly gets comments on how blonde his hair is and how bright his eyes are. Has soul staring blue eyes

Black is his most iconically worn color fs

Watch on his left because he’s right handed. Actually wears it every day

social stance/relationships;

A total asshole. Just less physically than Mattheo. He may not pick a physical fight but he does bully a lot of people- he’s rude and intitled. Says hurtful things

Known for his high ego and over privileged personality

People don’t understand how him and Lorenzo are even related 

Does pull girls but isn’t as good as the others are at it- is filled with too much hate (lol… no actually)

Everyone wonders how he gets good grades because he never pays attention. It’s because he’s actually super smart

Him and Tom get along really well. They actually have a lot in common and hang out a lot

Blaise and Lorenzo are the ones that know more of his vulnerable and emotional side, being there since the beginning

Mattheo and him really feed off one another and are a very feared couple when together (no one is safe). They fuel each others egos 

Actually really loves Theo. Has always had an extra soft spot for him and has wished he could be him

He envy’s how cold Tom actually is. Draco hides a lot of his pain in a fake persona

He actually had real gf’s. A few long term ones even

Out of all the boys he trusted Blaise first. Lorenzo introduced them

pet peeves;

Everything? No literally- he has a very short fuse

Speaking of short fuse- his friends like to use that against him and rile him up for fun. He hates that

Being disrespected. He will actually become a Karen if he has to- no body is rude to Draco.. except his friends are rude to him all the time 

How much everyone loves his cousin Enzo but hates him. He is jealous of the attention he gets

Any time one of the guys are bragging about girls because he secretly wishes he had that many girls 

Mattheo’s fucking cigarette smoke

The fact that Tom’s grades are just a little better than his 

The fact that Mattheo and Enzo are better at quidditch than him 

Gryffindor. Just the whole houses existence

“Fucking nerds’, as he’d call them 

favourite things;

Cussing 

Writing (keeps it to himself mostly)

Mattheo’s music taste

Enzo hugs (he will die before Enzo knows this)

The Greengrass sisters (has dated both of them… wants one of them back)

The color black

Getting extremely drunk. Feeling numb and unbothered. That’s when he gets deep and real 

Cold weather- hates the heat

Pastries, especially jelly filled ones 

fun facts;

Speaks French 

Is super rich and will make sure everyone knows that

Has a weakness for cute animals 

Got mad when Tom lost his virginity before him

Is secretly bisexual

Probably bpd

Blaise Zambini

appearance/style;

6ft2 (the second tallest)

Broad and muscular but still on the lean side

Deep brown eyes

Full lips, model like features 

Great cheekbones 

Known as one of the prettiest out of the boys

Likes gold and silver 

Never wears his watch- always forgets it and loses it

Does wear earrings like all the time though

Secretly wants a nose piercing 

Wears a lot of grey and navy outside of his uniform. Looks really good in it though

Striking eyes but gentle, sweet resting face

social stance/relationships;

A good reputation like Enzo- but a bit more intimidating 

A lot of girls want him but he’s actually quite picky and doesn’t give a lot of them a chance

Gets emotional about girls more so than his friends- still doesn’t date them. Like Mattheo- has the ones he goes to the most 

Not really mean at all unless he’s joining in on his friends being dicks. Him and Enzo like to tease people together 

Sees Draco as his best friend 

Knew Enzo first

Wishes he could be as smart as Tom and goes to him a lot for school questions. Is secretly super smart though and could probably get better grades than Tom if he applied himself more

Likes to smoke with Theo the most. They get along well when they smoke together

Thinks Mattheo is the funniest 

pet peeves;

How mean Draco and Mattheo can be. He finds it pointless and rude when they go too far

When he gets lumped into some of the boys bad behavior

When Enzo and Draco get too drunk at parties. He tends to drink less because he knows they will go over board and he’ll have to take care of them 

How little the boys think about Tom sometimes and leave him behind (Tom would have said no anyways)

How much he can see through Draco’s shit sometimes 

Does a lot of damage control for his friends and that can get old

Being late to things

Losing things (loses things all the time)

Watching a friend lower their standards for a girl or guy

favorite things;

Going to quidditch games to see his friends play- always sits with Theo

Colder weather

A comfy sweater

A nicely rolled joint. Thinks Theo roles the best ones

When things are nice and calm. No body is arguing or being stupid and he doesn’t have to be mom

When his grades are good and he doesn’t have to stress about it

Watching Draco get put in his place 

Alone time with Draco and Enzo, just like their first year

Rock music. Like classic rock music- listens to it with Tom and Mattheo

Girls that wear nice perfume 

fun facts;

He wishes he could play quidditch when he watches his friends play

Can understand a small amount of Draco’s French 

Has really bad anxiety but keeps it to himself

Seems like the most put together in the group but really isn’t at all. More insecure than he lets on

Tom Riddle

appearance/style;

5ft11 (One inch that he holds over Mattheo’s head)

Major sleeper build

Green eyes. Odd shade of green that you can’t forget

Hair similar to his brothers just a little less curly 

NIce jawline

Evil and mischievous looking grin- it’s just that way naturally 

Resting plotting against you face 

Tries to have a kubrick stare but has dough eyes like Mattheo 

Would wear jewelry but nothing too flashy. A necklace maybe- one ring even

Gold and silver- mostly gold

Wears his watch on his right hand because he’s left handed. Wears it all the time 

Isn’t seen in much other than his uniform. But when he is it’s black and green anyways 

Doesn’t care for fashion. Thinks piercings and tattoos of any kind are too much

Never goes into public not dressed nice 

social stance/relationships;

Social outcast. Not the most social at all really

Extremely focused on his grades and personal writings

Is either feared or ignored by most people around him 

Does however have friends and goes out with them sometimes… when they bug him enough 

He is known for being very smart though and lots of students want his help on projects 

Quite intimidating even though he doesn’t care enough to bully anyone 

Isn’t very interested in girls… has had his fun with a few but romance and feelings don’t exist in his world- he has no time or energy for that

Has had a few crushes but would never tell anyone 

Doesn’t talk about his feelings with any of his friends 

Actually likes his brother Mattheo the most out of any of them but won’t admit that

Is also a huge fan of Theo- he thinks he’s the funniest 

Likes being around Blaise a lot too- thinks he is actually super smart

Draco and him hang out often- they have a lot in common and Draco makes the most sense to him out of all the boys 

He finds Enzo slightly annoying… he’s just gotten used to him really 

All of the boys admire Tom in an odd way and he does know that 

pet peeves;

Like Draco- Tom finds everything lame and annoying to be honest. He however is more quiet about his distaste for things unless he really hates it

Enzo’s constant talking about girls. He thinks that guy talks too much in general 

Mattheo’s temper. He thinks Mattheo needs to get it together and drop the ego

How little his friends pay attention in school… how stupid some of them can be 

Mattheo’s fucking cigarette smoke 

How much the school cares about quidditch and how Mattheo is praised about it more than he is with his academic success 

Getting super fucked up is dumb to him. Just like the flirting and hooking up- he has better things to do. He will however smoke muggle weed a little bit and does lie cigarettes

Being touched (Enzo trying to hug him)

Athletics of any kind 

favorite things; 

Writing and reading, he absolutely loves it 

Draco’s creative cussing 

Getting the best grades out of all his friends 

Watching Mattheo get angry at him and squirmy 

Chocolate, major bitter sweet tooth

Black coffee

Charms; he is really good at it 

Dueling; he is also really good at it and beats all the boys

Classical music 

Alone time and his own space 

fun facts;

He can play the piano really well. Plays mostly for Mattheo 

Practically raised Mattheo even though he’s just a year older

He doesn’t like to sleep too much

He is always the first to wake up and start his day 

He is also the first to always leave the table in the great hall

He speaks parseltongue but no body knows

Secretly overthinks a lot 

love, spell

[married-to-google-translater]

Trying to break up with Yandere Vil Schoenheit

Your relationship with Vil would have lasted for a while.

At first, everything seemed really good.

It would be really hard to see the red flags through rose-colored glasses.

This is why the wake-up call would be loud…

One day you just realized that you haven't spent time with your friends in a long time, that you usually only spend time with Vil, and that Vil determines a lot of your day.

You knew this couldn't go on and you and Vil had to talk.

Vil would be really shocked.

After everything he's done for you, you want to break up with him?

Can't you see that he only wants what's best for you?

Vil would really be interested in who would have made you think that way.

Oh, he knew your friends were a bad influence.

Luckily, Vil would be a really skilled gaslighter and manipulator.

Lucky for him and really unlucky for you…

He would definitely talk you into thinking about your decision.

However, things would never be the same for the two of you.

Vil would start to restrict you even more and heavily shape who you spend your time with.

He doesn't want you to get any more stupid ideas in your head.

[buckevantommy]

8x11 Bucktommy fixit coda of sorts: Tommy and Eddie talk. hopeful ending?

It's been almost a week since he walked out of Evan's life, again, when Tommy gets a call from an unfamiliar number. With an El Paso area code.

"Diaz. How's Texas?"

"Texas? Texas is great, Tommy, thanks for asking."

Thanks for telling me, Tommy thinks but doesn't say, because he doesn't want to be snarky and irritated this early into his shift. He takes a breath to try and calm himself and let the negative thoughts release on the slow exhale as Eddie lists off the positive impact his move has made on both Christopher's life and his own.

Everything aside, Tommy's happy for him. For both of them.

"But from what I heard, things in L.A. are kinda fucked."

Then again: Eddie can be a bigger bitch than Tommy when he wants to be so he might as well meet him on the field, knives drawn. "Did Buck tell you that?" It comes out sharp and he lets it hang, wants it to slice.

"Oh, yeah. I had a very interesting and totally insane converstaion with Buck where he said the reason you dumped him was because you thought he'd dump you for me if you didn't."

It's not the whole truth, but it cuts all the same. Good thing Tommy has armor forged in the slow burning coals of a lifetime of being a disappointment. He can take a jab from an old friend he didn't even know that long. In the six months he dated Evan. his time with Eddie dwindled to nothing. They were fast friends who fizzled out, not unlike his relationship with.. Buck. "I wouldn't say it's insane."

He was never going to mention it, is the thing. It wasn't really until they broke up that Tommy began to wonder if the reason Ev- Buck hadn't reached out was because he'd moved on. Eddie certainly didn't look back, ceasing all communication in the fallout. And it hurt, to lose not just Evan - and he was Evan to him then - but someone he thought was becoming a good friend. As much of a friend as Tommy would let into his life, anyway.

"Oh, it's batshit insane, Kinard. Almost as batshit insane as stealing a chopper and flying it headfirst into a hurricane."

That's a blow that lands with a dull ache, a bruise that'll linger. It was the night they met - him and Eddie, him and Evan - and whatever else came after, Tommy holds fast to that memory as one of the highlights of his treacherous and lonely life, despite - or maybe inclusive of - the life-threatening feats of.. insanity.

He's quiet for too long. Doesn't answer because any words that come to mind are scathing in a way he doesn't want to marr that fond memory with.

Eddie sighs heavy through the speaker, the fight seeming to drain out of his voice. "It's not like that, man, you gotta know."

Tommy straightens his posture where he's walked out of the hangar, staring at the chainlink fence separating the tarmac to the weeds and the grass and the distant treeline.

"Me and Buck are close- we're family- but it's not like that. Not like it is between you two."

Was, Tommy doesn't say. He doesn't dare hope but he can't bring himself to say it out loud, nail in the coffin.

"And I resent the fact you think I don't know myself like that, Tommy. I may be figuring some stuff out but I figured that shit out back in high school and every day since. Just 'cause you kissed Buck and it turned his world view on its head doesn't mean every straight guy you meet is just one good smooch away from wanting to put their mouth on your dick."

"Jesus, Eddie." No nonsense. It's one of the things he always liked about the guy. That, and the way he could deliver off-color comments with a straight face, only breaking if and when Tommy couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Look. I'm sorry about not reaching out after everything. I had Buck's back, y'know? Bros before manhoes."

"You calling me a hoe, Diaz?" His face morphs into a smile as they fall back into this old - barely new before it was over - back and forth.

"No. Just an idiot for managing to mess things up twice now."

"Eddie-"

"Don't worry, I know it was Buck's fault, too, okay? I already chewed him out and kicked his ass into gear- he call you yet? He mentioned talking to Maddie, said he wanted to call you."

No call, just a text that read: can we talk? please?? that Tommy hasn't replied to. Doesn't want to invite himself to a third round of heartbreak. "I'm on shift, so. If that's all? I gotta get back."

"No, that is not all- get your head out of your ass, Tommy. Talk to him. And let him spiral a bit until he finds the right words - he'll get there, eventually. It just takes him some time. 'Cause he's not over you and I don't think he ever will be."

He doesn't know me, Tommy thinks. And that's the real crux of the issue, isn't it? It's not about Eddie. And it's not about Evan not knowing what he wants because of his relatively newly discovered queerness.

It's about Tommy knowing he's not good enough to keep Evan in the long run.

Evan might think he won't get over Tommy, but he will. There'll be someone else, someone better, there always is. Maybe not Eddie, but some man or woman will get to keep him for a while longer, maybe a lifetime if they're lucky.

And Tommy.. he'll do what he's always done: find ways to survive, alone.

But.. if this is his last chance to talk to Eddie, and by extension Evan.. "Look, thankyou for clearing the air, but. I can't, okay? He is- was, the one I wanted forever with. I told him this. But I'm not that for him. I can't be." Not because he doesn't want to be - god, does he want to be - but because he's not enough. He's never been enough for anyone to want to keep.

Eddie sighs in his ear. "Y'know, if I wasn't 800 miles away right now I don't know if I'd hug you or try to knock some sense into you."

A hint of a smile tracks across Tommy's lips, fading fast. He misses their sparring sessions but doesn't want to let himself be sad over losing another would-be friend - he's got enough to be sad about and no time or want to wallow in any of it.

"Well." Thing is: even if this thing with Evan is dead and buried, if Eddie is open to it.. "If you're ever in town, my garage is always open. And," he steels himself, takes another breath and shakes it out, "I'm sorry. Sorry for thinking.. you know." The idea doesn't dig into his heart anymore, no marks left behind, just the shadow of a phantom chased away out the corner of his eye.

"Don't sweat it man. Seriously. but, hey- the not feeling good enough, thing? You're not alone in that, man. And the thing about Buck? He loves people for who they are, faults and demons and all."

Tommy knows. He knows how big Buck's.. Evan's, heart is, which is why he knows he deserves better.

"And if you ever wanna talk, consider this line of communication open."

Tommy's smile comes back stronger, lingers. There's a wet sheen threatening to blur his vision. His throat catches as he swallows. His voice comes out a little raspy when he says, "Thanks, man. Same to you."

Eddie makes a sound of agreement, then: "Call Buck."

Someone calls Tommy from the hangar. "I gotta go. Take care, Eddie." He hangs up before Eddie can add anything else to torture him with.

Making his way over to the main hangar, he thumbs over to his text chain with Evan. He types out four little letters, then backspaces and types a different four: okay when? then exits out of the screen and locks and pockets his phone.

It's a bad idea, no matter what Eddie says or what Tommy's realised in the last few minutes. It's still a bad idea. Tommy has to protect his heart.

..Doesn't he? Doesn't he deserve at least that?

The klaxon sounding cuts off further tormentive thoughts as he shifts into work mode and focuses his concentration and efforts on doing his job. Even if he can't salvage his love life he can save a life or two elsewhere.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

CYOA 69 sneak peak

Since I'm not going to manage to finish the chapter before I go on vacation, rather than gif hints, I've decided to post the opening scene of the chapter beneath the cut. Surprise?

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Monday 28th March, 2022, 00:00 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

Lily Evans: You're still out, right? For the rest of the day?

James Potter: yeah we got out of the first room early, so i say we, sirius did most of the heavy lifting because i've been completely out of it just waiting for the next one to be ready they said it would take about 25 minutes

Lily Evans: So I suppose I don't have much time to talk to you?

James Potter: that seems to be today's recurring theme

Lily Evans: I KNOW And I'd wanted SO much to have a properly long conversation with you earlier.

James Potter: so did i, but it's alright hey, lily?

Lily Evans: Yeah?

James Potter: are we okay?

Lily Evans: What?

James Potter: it's just that i feel like we might not be, so i wanted to check

Lily Evans: Wait, what? Why wouldn't we be okay?

James Potter: because of what happened earlier

Lily Evans: You're upset about that?

James Potter: no, but i mean, sort of not because it wasn't the best thing that's ever happened to me, because it was but we had an agreement, you made it really clear that you had this boundary in place and that we shouldn't move too fast, except then we did, and i'm worried that i've made you do something that you weren't ready for which i'm so sorry about, if i have

Lily Evans: Have you been worrying about this since we hung up?

James Potter: yeah well not initially because i was still, y'know heaven

Lily Evans: Right

James Potter: but then i started to really think about what it meant and i feel like i got carried away and cocked up, and i owe you an apology

Lily Evans: No you don't!

James Potter: but i do though, we said we weren't going to do this and now we have because i brought up your friend's brother and asked you to tell me you wanted me when i could have not done those things so i don't want you to feel like this is something you have to keep up just for my sake if you need to take a few steps back now, please tell me and we can do that

Lily Evans: JAMES

James Potter: i just don't want to lose you, i don't want to fuck this up Lily Evans: You're NOT going to lose me, okay?? And I really need you to know that I don't want to lose you, either. Yes, I freaked out earlier when you brought up Aaron because I'd been so sure that you KNEW there wasn't a chance I'd be interested in somebody else and then suddenly it dawned on me that things from your end must have seemed more one-sided than they were, so I told you all of that stuff in a rush, but if the trains hadn't been cancelled and I hadn't gotten home so late I would have said it all anyway, James. I would have said it earlier. Only I'd have said it in the way I'd planned to last night, and it would have made me sound a lot less like a maniac. So PLEASE, don't worry about me and my boundaries right now, because I feel really good about what happened.

James Potter: you'd planned to say that stuff today?

Lily Evans: Yes.

James Potter: because of my birthday??

Lily Evans: Not because it was your birthday, obviously it BEING your birthday made it more of an ideal time, but no. I wanted to say it to you because honestly, James, I think we should just go for it.

James Potter: what do you mean?

Lily Evans: I mean IT As in you and me. As in us. I think we should actually BE an us.

James Potter: you mean be a couple?

Lily Evans: Yes, a couple. Let's be a couple. That's what I want. Is that what you want?

James Potter: lily are you sure? are you REALLY sure?

Lily Evans: Yes, I'm sure.

James Potter: because i don't want you to rush into anything you're not ready for i meant it when i said i was happy to wait

Lily Evans: I know, and I appreciate you so much for that but I promise you, I'm ready. I'm there. I am. I am mad about you, I want us to be together, and I'm SO sick of only being able to half-acknowledge it when all I want to do every minute of every day is let you know it. I said I was frightened and I wasn't lying, but I'm also sick of letting my life be dictated by a bunch of fears and insecurities that aren't going to go away if I wait patiently for them to leave. I have to actually DO something to confront them. So I want us to go for it. I can't be just friends anymore.

James Potter: right

Lily Evans: Unless this isn't sounding good to you and I've completely misread the situation?

James Potter: GOD NO LILY you haven't misread AT ALL i'm just stunned

Lily Evans: Oh. Okay.

James Potter: because i wasn't expecting this i was expecting the opposite after this morning, honestly i thought i'd fucked up somehow i'd thought you were going to want to take a step back

Lily Evans: No, I don't, I really don't, I'm so tired of taking steps back, James. I want to move forward. I want to move forward with you, because I trust you and I know how much you care about me, and I care SO much about you, and I think we could be really great together, you know? I think we could make each other really happy.

James Potter: lily we ARE great together

Lily Evans: WE ARE

James Potter: I KNOW

Lily Evans: WE ALWAYS HAVE BEEN

James Potter: from day one i've always said it i mean, not to you, i was terrified to say it to you but remus and sirius have heard a LOT about it

Lily Evans: Well, I want you to say it to me now, please. Because, you know, if there's a full James Potter experience that I've been missing out on while we've been just friends for the past year and a bit, I want in as soon as possible.

James Potter: oh, there's an experience

Lily Evans: I thought so.

James Potter: very exclusive though

Lily Evans: I should bloody well hope it is, I'm not sharing you with anyone else.

James Potter: there's a single entrant limit, what do you take me for?

Lily Evans: There's not a dress code, is there?

James Potter: dress code is wear whatever you want or wear nothing

Lily Evans: And I can alternate between both?

James Potter: don't let my personal preferences dissuade you from putting on clothes

Lily Evans: I kind of have to if I want to keep my job, right?

James Potter: right so we're together then? properly together? you and me?

Lily Evans: That's what I want, more than anything. I mean that. So if that's what you want too, then yes. Please.

James Potter: OF COURSE THAT'S WHAT I WANT

Lily Evans: Unless you'd rather not share our anniversary with your birthday?? I don't know how you feel about that. Although it is after midnight HERE.

James Potter: you're talking about anniversaries you're talking about OUR anniversary lily LILY

Lily Evans: I mean, yeah? I just assumed. Are you okay with that?

James Potter: AM I OKAY WITH IT LILY LILY EVANS

Lily Evans: ????

James Potter: i'm sitting here in a waiting room trying to look like i'm not having a heart attack while you tell me that all my dreams are coming true and you're wondering if i'm OKAY with it?

Lily Evans: You have dreams that are unrelated to me!

James Potter: ALL MY DREAMS, LILY i can't believe this is happening this isn't real i'm going to wake up any second, aren't i? i passed out on my bed or something. this can't be real it can't be you're SURE?

Lily Evans: YES I'M SURE

James Potter: you're not worried about rushing into anything??

Lily Evans: No, honestly, I've been thinking about that, and would it even BE rushing into anything when you're still travelling until July and we'll have already been together for a solid three months, long distance, by the time you get back?

James Potter: right yeah so you're cool with that? with the distance?

Lily Evans: Yes, of course, we've been apart this whole time and it hasn't done a thing to get in the way of us becoming as close as we have. And I trust you. I trust you SO much. I just don't want to keep holding things back.

James Potter: you mean everything to me, lil everything in the world you're it for me, you always have been if i tell you that i would do anything for you, i'm not exaggerating, because i really really would i'm sorry if that's too much, it's true though, that's how i feel

Lily Evans: It's not. It's not too much at all, I feel the exact same way. You're it for me too. You really are.

James Potter: and i'm going to do everything in my power to make you happy, alright? i promise i promise that i'm never going to take you for granted for fuck's SAKE they want us in the room now i literally just went and hid in the toilet twenty seconds ago but now sirius is banging on the door one sec, i'm going to tell them that something's come up and i can't do it

Lily Evans: No, it's okay! Do it, it's fine! Sirius has a bunch of genuinely cool plans for your birthday that you deserve to enjoy and I really need to go to bed anyway, hell week starts in the morning and I'm going to need SOME sleep to get through it.

James Potter: lily i will tell everyone in this building to fuck off right now if you want me to, it's fine

Lily Evans: No really, don't! Last night I was convinced that I wanted to have this perfect, planned, lengthy conversation about us, but honestly it really doesn't matter how it happened, I'm just so happy that it did.

James Potter: i'm crazy about you, do you know that?

Lily Evans: I'm crazy about you! You're all I bloody think about!

James Potter: YOU'RE ALL I THINK ABOUT TOO HENCE THE CAPS FOR EMPHASIS

Lily Evans: Okay so GO HAVE FUN and I'm going to go to bed and try to sleep and I'll text you in the morning and we'll sort out a time to talk PROPERLY and figure all this out, okay?

James Potter: okay okay okay jesus, my heart's beating so fast i might collapse

Lily Evans: Lol mine too, I'm going to need the blue Nytol to sleep tonight.

James Potter: i'm going to need a mallet to the head

Lily Evans: Tire yourself out having THE BEST time tonight and you'll be alright. Now get out of the loo and escape the room, I adore you.

James Potter: i adore you too, you goddess of a woman

Lily Evans: Okay I'm GOING TO BED or else you're never going to leave that bathroom and I'm going to be a zombie with eye bags at work tomorrow.

James Potter: you could not sleep for a week and still be beautiful

Lily Evans: STOP

James Potter: NO I WILL NOT STOP, IT'S LITERALLY MY JOB TO TELL YOU THAT NOW

Lily Evans: OKAY DON'T STOP BUT LEAVE THE LOO, OKAY?

James Potter: I'M LEAVING NOW

Lily Evans: Okay GOODNIGHT, I miss you already x

James Potter: GOODNIGHT i miss you too x

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Let’s Call It Even

Where Y/N is an interviewer who pushes Harry Styles too far.

Word count: 2.5k

The hotel suite is dimly lit, the kind of warm lighting designed to make people feel at ease. It’s supposed to create intimacy, lower defenses.

Y/N doesn’t buy into it.

She sits across from Harry Styles, her recorder already running, her notepad resting on her lap. He’s leaned back in his chair, the picture of effortless ease—legs spread slightly, fingers tapping a light rhythm against his knee. He’s been in interviews all day. She can tell by the slight shift in his posture, the polite but rehearsed smile.

He thinks this will be just another round of the same.

He’s wrong.

She clicks her pen. “Let’s talk about Jack.”

Harry nods slightly, shifting forward in his seat. “Let’s.”

She studies him for a second before speaking again. “Do you think Jack sees himself as the villain, or does he believe he’s the hero of his own story?”

The smile on his lips falters just a fraction, but it’s there. He takes a moment, pretending to really think about it, but Y/N knows that’s just part of the act.

“I think Jack believes he’s doing what’s right,” he says finally. His voice is smooth, unhurried. “That’s what makes him dangerous, isn’t it? He thinks he’s protecting something. Love, security, order. But he’s also selfish. Blind to how much control he really has over Alice.”

It’s a good answer. Polished. Almost too perfect.

Y/N doesn’t even blink.

“But isn’t that just a way to excuse him?” she presses. “Saying he thinks he’s doing the right thing doesn’t change the fact that he actively chooses to manipulate Alice. It’s not a gray area—it’s deliberate harm. Doesn’t that say more about how men like Jack justify their actions?”

There. The shift.

His jaw tightens slightly. His fingers stop their rhythmic tapping.

For the first time, she has his full attention.

“I think you’re trying to make it black and white when it isn’t,” Harry counters, voice still calm but firmer now. “Jack is a product of his environment. The whole world he exists in is built to make him believe he’s right.”

“But that doesn’t make him any less responsible.”

Silence. Thick. Charged.

She watches as he exhales through his nose, the muscles in his jaw working as he measures his next words.

“I think,” he says slowly, “that you came into this interview already deciding what you wanted to hear from me.”

A flicker of something in his eyes—challenge, annoyance, something deeper beneath the surface.

And just like that, the easy rhythm of the interview is gone.

Y/N doesn’t flinch at Harry’s words. If anything, she leans in slightly, her grip on her pen tightening just a fraction.

“I think,” she says, mirroring his tone, “that you came into this interview already deciding how much you wanted to say.”

Harry’s lips twitch, something between amusement and irritation flashing across his face. “That’s what interviews are, aren’t they? You ask, I answer. Isn’t that the game?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she counters. “Unless you’re just playing it safe.”

His expression shifts—still composed, still carrying that air of practiced charm, but his body language betrays him. The way his fingers flex against his knee. The way his jaw tenses, like he’s biting back something sharper.

“I don’t think wanting to be thoughtful with my words means I’m playing it safe.” His voice is controlled, deliberate. “It means I’m not interested in giving you some soundbite you can twist into a headline.”

Y/N tilts her head slightly, studying him. “I don’t need to twist anything, Harry. Your answers do that on their own.”

His brows lift, but he doesn’t break eye contact.

The tension stretches between them, thick and unspoken. There’s something electric about it—not just frustration, but something deeper. An unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

She watches as he inhales through his nose, running his tongue along his bottom lip before he speaks again.

“I think Jack is complicated,” he says finally, voice lower now, more measured. “I think he’s someone who believes his love is enough to justify everything he does. And I think that kind of love—the kind that demands control—is the most dangerous kind there is.”

Now that is an answer.

Y/N doesn’t say anything for a beat, just lets the weight of his words settle between them. Then, slowly, she nods.

“I think that’s the most honest thing you’ve said today.”

His smirk is barely there, but it lingers, tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“And I think,” he murmurs, “you like getting under people’s skin more than you like the answers themselves.”

She smirks right back.

“Only when they need to be pushed.”

The interview continues, but the air between them has shifted. Every exchange is laced with something unspoken, something simmering just beneath the surface.

The interview wraps. The cameras stop rolling. The crew starts moving around, packing up lights and cables, but Y/N barely notices.

She can feel him watching her.

She keeps her focus on gathering her notes, her movements precise, calculated. She’s expecting him to leave—to shake hands, flash one last easy grin, and walk out like he does in every other interview.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, she hears the quiet shuffle of his boots against the carpet. The shift of fabric as he moves closer.

Then, his voice. Low. Sharp.

“Was that the goal?”

Y/N exhales, fingers tightening around her pen before she finally looks up at him. He’s closer than before, standing just at the edge of the table, his expression unreadable.

“Excuse me?”

Harry tilts his head slightly, eyes flickering over her face. His jaw is still tight, like he’s holding something back.

“You wanted me to get mad, didn’t you?” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge beneath it, something simmering. “Push me hard enough so the clip goes viral. ‘Harry Styles loses his cool.’ That the angle you were going for?”

Y/N lets out a short breath, shaking her head. “That’s insulting.”

“Is it?” he challenges, stepping just a fraction closer.

Her jaw clenches, but she doesn’t move back. If he’s trying to intimidate her, he’s wasting his time.

“I wasn’t trying to make you mad,” she says evenly. “I was trying to make you think. There’s a difference.”

His lips press together, and she can tell he’s fighting the urge to snap back. She’s seen this before—the way frustration sits behind his ribs, the way he wrestles with it instead of letting it spill over.

But this time, it’s personal.

“You think I wasn’t thinking?” His voice drops, quieter now. “Or do you just not like it when people don’t give you the answers you want?”

Y/N exhales through her nose, tilting her chin up slightly. “I think you’re used to people letting you get away with easy answers. And I think, for once, someone actually made you sit in the uncomfortable part of it.”

A flicker of something—anger, intrigue, something tangled in between.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, then lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You are a real piece of work, you know that?”

She smirks, crossing her arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

For a second, he just looks at her. The air between them feels thick, charged with something unsaid.

Then, he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before turning toward the door.

But just before he steps out, he pauses.

“You know what the worst part is?” he says, glancing over his shoulder. His voice is lower now, almost too quiet. “You’re right. And I fucking hate that.”

And then, he’s gone.

It happens at a party.

She’s not surprised. The industry is small, the circles even smaller. She knew, deep down, that their paths would cross again.

But she didn’t expect it to be like this.

The venue is dimly lit, golden light casting long shadows across the room. Low chatter hums beneath the pulse of bass-heavy music. It’s one of those exclusive events—where artists, directors, and industry names sip expensive drinks and pretend they’re not watching each other.

Y/N isn’t here to play the game. She’s here because she was dragged by a friend, because she needed a break, because—

Because she told herself she wouldn’t think about him.

And then, she feels it.

That familiar prickle at the back of her neck. The unshakable sense of being watched.

She turns, and there he is.

Harry, leaning against the bar, a whiskey glass in hand, watching her like she’s something he can’t quite figure out. His suit is tailored but effortless, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he stopped caring the second he walked in.

But it’s his eyes that catch her—the way they flicker under the low lights, dark and unreadable.

She should look away.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she lifts her chin slightly, a silent challenge, before turning toward the balcony.

She doesn’t need to check if he follows. She already knows he will.

The air outside is cooler, quieter, a stark contrast to the warmth of the party. The city stretches out below, glittering and endless.

She leans against the railing, exhaling slowly.

“Didn’t think you were the type to sulk in the corner at these things.”

His voice comes from behind her, smooth but laced with something heavier.

She doesn’t turn around. “Didn’t think you were the type to hold grudges.”

There’s a low chuckle, and then she hears his footsteps—slow, unhurried.

“You made quite an impression, love,” he murmurs, coming to stand beside her.

She finally glances at him. “I do that.”

His lips twitch, but there’s something else in his gaze. Something he hasn’t decided if he resents or respects.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, taking a sip of his drink. “You like pushing people. You like watching them squirm.”

She shrugs, turning back to the skyline. “Only when they need to be pushed.”

“And you decided I needed it?”

“I didn’t decide anything,” she says, then glances at him. “You showed me you did.”

That does something to him. She can tell by the way his jaw clenches, by the way he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to temper whatever is simmering beneath his skin.

“You think you know me, don’t you?” he mutters, more to himself than to her.

Y/N tilts her head, studying him. “I think you hate that I might.”

Silence. The air between them shifts, tightening.

She expects him to snap back, to smirk, to find some way to deflect like he always does.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he sets his glass down, leaning in just enough that she can feel the warmth of him, the quiet intensity of his gaze.

“Tell me, then,” he murmurs. “What do you think you know?”

Her pulse jumps, but she doesn’t let it show.

She meets his stare, unflinching.

“I think you like control.” The words are deliberate, measured. “You like being the one asking the questions. You like being the one who sets the pace, who decides how much people see.”

His throat bobs as he swallows.

She steps closer—not much, just enough to test the space between them.

“And I think,” she continues, voice softer now, “you hate that I see past it.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. His fingers flex against the railing.

For a second, she thinks he’s going to walk away again.

But then—

“And what if I don’t hate it?”

The words hang between them, heavy, raw.

Her breath catches, just for a moment.

She should say something sharp, something cutting.

Instead, she whispers—

“Then that’s a whole different problem, isn’t it?”

And for the first time since they met, he doesn’t have an answer.

The weight of his words lingers between them.

Harry doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, doesn’t even blink. He just stands there, watching her, like he’s trying to decide whether to close the space between them or run before it’s too late.

Y/N holds his gaze, waiting. Daring.

For once, he doesn’t have a smooth response, a rehearsed quip to throw back at her. And she sees it—the crack in the armor, the flicker of something raw beneath all the charm.

“This is a problem, then?” he murmurs, voice low, dangerously soft.

Y/N exhales slowly, feeling the cool night air against her skin, the contrast of the heat rolling off him. “It is if you make it one.”

His jaw clenches. His hands flex against the railing.

Then—

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t look away. “Funny. I was just about to say the same thing.”

His breath hitches—just slightly, just enough for her to notice.

And then it happens.

He moves.

Not fast, not reckless, but with a sharp, deliberate intent that makes her heart lurch.

One second, they’re standing there, balancing on the edge of something unspoken.

The next, he’s close. Closer than before.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing over the column of her throat, tracing the line of her jaw. Not quite touching, not fully closing the distance, but there—a silent question, a warning, a threat.

Her pulse pounds beneath his fingertips.

She knows this is a mistake. She knows they should stop, pull back before it spirals into something they can’t control.

But when his thumb drags lightly across her skin, when his lips part like he’s about to say something and then doesn’t—

She doesn’t care.

“Say it,” he murmurs.

Her breath catches.

“Say what?”

His fingers slide to the back of her neck, his touch just firm enough to make her head spin.

“Say you don’t want this.”

Her throat tightens.

Because she should. She should say it. She should tell him that this is just leftover tension from their interview, just a fleeting moment of frustration, just—

But then his nose brushes hers, his breath warm against her lips, and all rational thought crumbles.

“I can’t,” she whispers.

The second the words leave her mouth, everything snaps.

His lips crash against hers, and it’s nothing like she expected. It’s not slow, not tentative—it’s urgent, desperate, messy in a way that betrays just how long they’ve both been holding this back.

His hands tighten against her waist, pulling her flush against him. She fists his shirt, grounding herself, anchoring herself to something before she completely loses her mind.

He tastes like whiskey and something she can’t name, something sharp and intoxicating and so fucking infuriatingly him.

The kiss is a battle. A push and pull.

He bites her lower lip, and she gasps. He smirks against her mouth, but she drags her nails down his back, making him groan, and suddenly the tables turn.

“I don’t think we’ll ever be even.”

He presses her back against the railing, one hand gripping her waist, the other tilting her chin up, deepening the kiss like he’s trying to prove something.

Like he’s trying to win.

When they finally break apart, their breaths are ragged, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.

Harry drags his thumb over her bottom lip, watching her like he’s waiting for her to take it back.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she smirks.

“That wasn’t very professional of you, Styles.”

His answering chuckle is dark, breathless.

“You started it.”

She arches a brow. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

He leans in again, lips ghosting over her jaw. “No?”

Her grip tightens in his shirt.

“No,” she murmurs, voice softer now.

He hums, his nose trailing along the curve of her neck.

“Then let’s call it even.”

Y/N exhales a shaky breath, tilting her head slightly.

[synced-love]

Signs and Placements That are Actually Dangerous

I'm not gonna include the random signs people say are dangerous because they'll fight or something like that. I'm talking about the thinkers, the masterminds, and people who don't need to be on the front lines to win a battle. They can sit back, relax, and ruin your life.

Libra sun - Being someone who can just switch between personalities depending on where they are or who they are talking to. the sun hates being in Libra because the sun is all about me me me and Libra is about we we we. Libras pay attention to things and can make people like them. Really good at lying but usually they don't lie to harm. They usually don't get angry but if they are, they can beat Aries. Libras also really hold grudges. They may forgive but don't forget.

Scorpio Mercury - I know I said Scorpios aren't as mysterious and dangerous as people let them believe but when a sign like Scorpio is a truth seeker and lives in darkness is in mercury which has to do with thinking and communicating, it can be very interesting. They move in silence and they are very smart and analytical. Just like Libra, they hold grudges.

Virgo Mercury - Mercury absolutely loves Virgo. I mean what other sign is at home and exalted. acknowledging that they can be highly analytical and picky. they notice the smallest details and remember minute things that people would just brush off. Also like libras and Scorpios, they hold grudges and don't forget about wrongdoings easily

Mutable placements (Gemini, Virgo, Sag, Pisces) - Someone who is so adaptable and can be here and there all at once can be dangerous. And is it a coincidence that most serial killers have mutable placements? Like the 3 most famous serial killers are a Sag, Pisces, and a Gemini. I don't really want to write their names because I don't need that much of that energy here but if you want to look it up, you can.

Cancer Mars 8th house - It's already fallen but put in the 8th house? that just intensifies it. It's better for them to feel no way for you than hate you. Because if they hate you and they see you a little too much. They might want to do something not so nice. Cancers are the hardest to make mad and not because they just don't feel it, it's because it's being buried down. But naturally, it will all come back. A small question like, why didn't you take out the trash could tick them off and now they are unloading all of the things they couldn't say to the people they should have. Angry cancer mar is unstable and unsafe.

Cancer Moon - similar to Cancer Mars but it's at home I the moon. Cancer Moons could be a little emotionally manipulative because they understand emotions so well. It could be a good thing they understand them so well or a bad thing.

[zepskies]

Omg yay!! @tofics Welcome back, friend!! ❤️❤️ I'm so glad you're tuning into this one because you'll see some Smoke Eater type stuff in this mini series too - with the added fun of a plus-sized reader. 😘

Okay, first of all - love love loooveeee @redhoodieone for requesting this and @zepskies for bringing it to life. Firefighter!Dean just does things to me. And yes, Alex, it's all your fault. (Thank you!) And now the reader is an ELEMENTARY TEACHER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That only happens to be what I'm studying! It's like this trope was written for me 😭

Omg that's right!! I love that you can relate to this story on multiple levels, and the reader being an elementary teacher was part of the request too! ❤️

Now. I know I've said it before, but as a plus-size girly myself, reading fics where the reader is plus-size herself not only helps with the immersion, but also becomes even more of a delight when they're pictured as desirable. And you did such a good job with that. The repeated slaps on reader's ass, his obvious attraction to her, but most importantly, his outrage when she calls herself fat. Like he can't even believe she'd think of herself that way, because that title simply never occurred to him. Such a rewarding and healing thing to read! 🥹

Ughhh I feel you so much here. Me being plus-sized myself, it's always fun for me to give myself this escape and write how I wish all of us would be treated, especially when we get down on ourselves. That scene at the end was very self-indulgent in a way, but at the same time it made sense for the reader character and how Dean sees her! And also, I just feel that Dean wouldn't mind having his hands full. 😏❤️‍🔥

And god, all those feelings of comparing herself to Lisa and Jo. I wish I didn't know that sinking feeling in her gut when she talked about how she had to slim herself down to fit into the dress, while Lisa and Jo do it so effortlessly. Or the absolute gut-punch that was Lisa's talk about "sticking to a clean diet for the baby" - as if she gives two shits about the little one growing in reader's belly 😒 Ten bucks say she secretly wishes there was no baby to begin with (which, honestly, theoretically I can't blame her for...), nor that she cares about the reader's "health". Fat shaming packaged as "caring". 🤮 Ugh, it made me so mad just reading it! (You wrote it so well 🥲)

lmfaooo pure personal experience on this one! 😅 While I'm sorry you can relate to the reader here like I do, I'm glad you thought it was written well! Lisa being a total bitch in this one loll, disguised in "niceness and politeness" to me is always worse than being blatantly nasty for some reason. It's more like the kinds of things we probably deal with on the day-to-day, when you don't know if something knows they're being a bitch or not, or if they're really trying to hurt you.

GIRL. Now why was this so freaking hot. Jesus Christ. And then his admiration when she's on top next morning 😭

Because who would expect a selfless (generous) man on a one-night stand? 🤭

*dreamy sigh* And this. THIS. The moment where he catches her disappointment. (Cause, ngl, I would've been uncertain as hell myself if I'd just slept with this guy for the third time in one night and suddenly he's scrambling to leave...)

It's an important moment! Shows that Dean is not trying to make her feel like he just used her for sex, he really just is running late. 😂 He's a good guy, he just has a lot of growing to do. 💓💓

Oh, Dean Winchester, the man you are. Alex, I can't wait to see where this goes! Lisa as a more bitchy version is quite the interesting read, and their little unintentional three-way set-up is bound to cause some drama 👀 And I'm here for it!!! Can't wait for the next chapter - coming out on here just one day after my birthday! Can't wait to read it 💓

He's extra something special, all right. 😩

Girl I can't wait to share Part 2 on Sunday!! (Soon and very soon!) It's a huge rollercoaster of emotions we're headed down, and this is only the first leg of it. 😂

Omg Happy early Birthday!! 💕

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

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⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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