#the last thing i need is to try to start another hobby but... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katsu28 · 4 months

Text

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.”

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was.

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips.

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.”

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most.

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch.

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room.

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing.

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing.

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench.

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise.

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you.

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal.

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms.

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own.

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor.

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.”

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.”

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.”

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?”

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled.

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.”

Oh, if only he knew.

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.”

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.”

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on.

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out.

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word.

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?”

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him.

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.”

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits.

“What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression.

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking.

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?”

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.”

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.”

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.”

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional.

“Is that a promise?”

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.”

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could.

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined.

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch.

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that.

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something.

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room.

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine.

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time.

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano.

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in.

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world.

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead.

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now.

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring.

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly.

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?”

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.”

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.”

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?”

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep.

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh.

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course.

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more.

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask.

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable.

“Any requests from the audience?”

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow.

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker.

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa.

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine.

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own.

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him.

God, why were you even thinking of those things?

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend.

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop.

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him.

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him.

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place.

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice.

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up.

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow.

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.”

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.”

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.”

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?”

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.”

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him.

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles.

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.”

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—”

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.”

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all.

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.”

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign.

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.”

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?”

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?”

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.”

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you.

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly.

“Then why did you?”

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.”

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone.

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.”

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued.

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had.

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.”

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.”

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head.

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?”

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you.

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.”

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them.

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc one shot #truly this was only supposed to be like 2k words #this man invokes many emotions in me what can i say #if u made it this far into my tags hi hello i hope u enjoyed and thank u for reading! i appreciate u <3

1K notes · View notes

vinomino · 3 months

Text

Helping Hand

cont. part 1 → here

Featuring: Kiryu Mitsuki, Suo Hayato, Sakura Haruka x f!reader, Umemiya x f!reader

Warnings: mdni 18+, infidelity, oralf!receiving, semi-public sex, threesome, creampie, sexting

Sitting at Pothos with some of the others as Kiryu starts talking about a game you particularly liked. “Really?! You play that too?” You beamed, happy that you found someone to talk to about your hobby. Kiryu and you exchanged numbers before you left with Umemiya.

Umemiya was happy to see you getting along with his juniors, especially with someone who shared your interests. You bid farewell to him at your front door, giving him a goodbye kiss. You feel your phone vibrate when you stand on your tippy-toes. Laying down on the bed you open your messages to see a photo of Kiryu playing the latest version of the game. “Wanna play together?”

“Hmghh…I keep dying!” You pout and slump into the bean bag on the floor of his room. Kiryu chuckles at you. “Want some help~?” Nodding you try to hand him the controller. “No, keep playing…” Tilting your head in confusion, “K–Kiryu!? What are you–” You stare wide-eyed at the pink haired man who pressed your thighs apart and to your chest. “Shhh…pretty thing, just keep playing.” He softly coos at you.

The screen displays another “You Died”, how were you supposed to focus on anything other than the sloppy sounds of Kiryu’s tongue against your cunt. Kiryu had his eyes on you when he first saw you, he didn’t give a damn if you were his senpai’s girl. He just had to be patient and play his cards right for you to fall into his grasp.

A harsh suck on your clit has a mewl ripping out of you and the controller falling to the floor. You tug as his pink locks, making the hairpins fall out. He lets out a giggle against your hole as you grind on his face. “Kiryu– gonna cum!” You squeak when he shoves two fingers into you, curling them. It didn’t take long for him to have you gushing all over his face.

Kiryu pulls back, his chin glistening from your slick, “Hehe, you squirted.” He looks at you fondly while patting your head.

“Aw, you failed the level.”

Tsubaki invited you to a bar to watch another one of his performances. What you didn’t expect was to also see Sakura, Nirei, and Suo. You wave to them while chatting to Seiryu and Uryu, well mostly Seiryu.

Humming while washing your hands in the bathroom, you hear someone else come in. “Suo?” You say catching sight of the eyepatch in the mirror. “Do you need something?” He simply smiles and tilts his head. “Why’d you cancel our plans yesterday?” You feel a cold chill run down your spine when he pins you against the wall. “I was busy…”

“With Umemiya-san…or another guy? Hmmm?” He grabs your chin to tilt your head up at him. You couldn’t gauge his emotion with him wearing his usual smile. Suo presses his body against yours, his tassel earrings swinging slowly.

“Maybe I should ask this instead…Who had you last?” You give him a wry smile, “I don’t know what you mean–” Squealing when he pinches your clothed clit. He chuckles, “I wonder if Umemiya-san knows what you’ve been up to…” His maroon eyes drilling holes into your head. Instead of worrying about your boyfriend, you're wishing he would just take you right here.

“A-Are you going to tell him?” Bringing your hand up to the back of his neck to pull him down. Suo rests his forehead against yours and gazes into your timid eyes, “Don’t back out now.” He grabs your wrist, leading you out.

Sakura now wonders what the hell he walked into. He noticed that both you and Suo were gone, maybe you went home, but why was Suo spending so long in the bathroom. Sakura checked both bathrooms which were empty. He decided Suo got tired and left, but as he walked back he passed by a private booth and swore he heard Suo’s voice.

What Sakura didn’t imagine was to see you in Suo’s lap, making out with each other. “S-Sakura?!” You scramble off Suo. The two-colored haired boy stood there in shock.

Weren’t you Umemiya’s girlfriend?

You grab Sakura’s arm before he could run off.

“Sakura-kun, why don’t you join us?” Suo muses. “W-Why the hell would I? This–This is wrong!” Sakura didn’t expect Suo to be the kind of guy to sleep with someone else’s girl. He tries to open the door to leave, but you wrap yourself around his arm. “Sakura! H-Hold on!”

Maybe, he wasn’t that different from Suo, feeling blood rush straight down when your breasts press against his arm. This was so wrong, it wasn’t right at all. Why was he so hard right now?

“Pretty girl, open your mouth for Sakura-kun.” Suo strokes your head as you take Sakura’s member into your mouth. The boy hisses above you when you do.

You reap what you sow. You're on all fours as Suo continues to plunge his cock into you, making you gag on Sakura whenever he hits your cervix. “S-Shit!” Sakura groans, pulling out your mouth, and painting your face white.

With your throat free, moans start bubbling out. Suo stills as he grabs you by the neck to pull you up, your face directly in front of the blushing boy, “Go on, kiss her.” Sakura pauses for a second before surging forward to kiss you. It was sloppy and you had to grab his collar to guide him.

The sight sends Suo over the edge as he shoots his cream inside your walls, painting it white, just like your face. You just pray no one questions why all three of you disappeared.

Umemiya tending to his plants when you text him.

What are you doing :(

Attached was a picture of you on your back in some lace panties with your tank pulled up over your breasts. You giggle watching the text bubble keep disappearing.

[Ume] Omm

[Ume] Omw*

You had some time before he showed up at your house. So you decided to forward the image.

[Hiragi] When are you free?

[Kaji] come over

[Sugishita] (Read)

[Kiryu] [Pic] that got me hard <3

[Suo] Haha Sakura looks like he’s gonna pass out.

[Sakura] (Typing)

hahalol I wanna be a dumb bimbo

#tw: infidelity #tw: cheating #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #wind breaker #sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka smut #kiryu x reader #kiryu mitsuki #kiryu mitsuki smut #suo hayato #hayato suo x reader #suo smut #mino.writes

427 notes · View notes

luveline · 11 months

Note

Hi! I was hoping you’d write a James or Remus fic, literally anything you want just make it super fluffy, thanks!

modern au, fem

"You have training in half an hour. What are you doing?"

James looks up from his games console with a frown. "What?"

"You have rugby training in half an hour, Jamie. You haven't had lunch or anything." You frown as he goes back to his game. "James, this is terrible time-keeping."

"Sorry, I can't pause it! It's that thing. Just– fuck, two seconds my lovely beautiful darli– fuck me!"

Curious, you creep around the bedroom to the side of the bed where he's sitting with a hunched back. "Oh. I never should've let you try. I've turned my gym mad boyfriend into a degenerate."

You honestly believe that James should spend his time doing what makes him happiest (so long as he spends time with you, too), and for him that's rugby and weight training. They're not solely independent from one another, but they also don't always coincide, and so he spends a large majority of his time up and active. You spend some of that time active but more of it on different hobbies, including the games console. "How long have you been playing?" you ask, leaning down to stroke the thick wave of his hair from his forehead.

"Just an hour while you were, uhm. What were you doing?"

You kiss his forehead. "Meditating."

He laughs. "Wait, were you actually? I want to meditate with you."

"I was doing the washing. Basically meditation if you try hard enough." He splats someone on the game, then a second person, a third in quick succession. "Are you better than me?"

"No way, shortcake." He splats a fourth person with impressive dexterity, narrowly avoiding his own death. "I'm trying to get coins for you so you can buy that thing you want."

James is better at the game than you, because of course he is. "I hate boys," you say decisively, kissing his forehead again. "Finish the game and get dressed, my love. I'll make you a roll to eat on the way."

You steal a last fond kiss and he shouts sweet everythings down the stairs at you. "If my hands weren't busy!" he promises.

You make him a sandwich and another to eat after practice and put them in a tupperware, knowing he'll scarf both in the car. It's fine, you'll just make him a third when he gets home. Time ticks on, training starts in twenty minutes, then ten. You hear the telltale sound of your avatar upstairs dying and snort to yourself.

"James Potter!" you shout from the bottom of the stairs. "I need help!"

There's a sudden thump and the tell-tale rush of him opening your bedroom door. "What?" he asks, coming down the stairs in a whirlwind. "What, lovely?"

You pass him his kit and tupperware. "You're about to be late."

"What a devious thing to do," he murmurs with a squint, though he gives you an appreciative sideways hug. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd probably have more muscles," you say.

He kisses the soft skin under your eye as though this is the normal place for a kiss. "I think you're right. I got you enough for that thing, by the way. What was it? An aerospray?"

He presses another kiss into the first.

You laugh and push him out the door before he gets too informed.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

1K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

Steve and Eddie go through the whole adoption process in 1996, despite how difficult it was to find somewhere willing to help them at all and despite their conflicted feelings on adoption.

The way they saw it though, providing a loving home for a child who needed one was better than the alternative. Eddie had enough experience with temporary foster homes to know stability was better than constant moving and questionable foster parents.

They get a foster placement almost immediately, a six year old girl named Amelia. She’s quiet, but not in a way that worries them. She’s very focused, and enjoys going to school more than any regular children’s hobbies. Neither of them know what to do with that other than keep encouraging it.

She stays for months, months turn into a year, and the agency finally gives them the go ahead to complete the adoption process.

But they don’t do anything without talking to Amelia.

She’s happy there, her therapist signs off on it immediately and explains that Amelia has shown more personality development and less signs of trauma with them than she had even living at home. Not to mention they actually brought her to appointments, unlike her previous guardians.

To celebrate, they throw a party with all their friends and family and tell Amelia she can invite anyone from school she wants. She invites everyone.

Turns out their daughter is a social butterfly and is friends with everyone.

At the party, Eddie pulls out his guitar, plays a bunch of popular kid-friendly songs after a very scathing look from Steve as a reminder to behave.

Amelia walks over to him after a few songs, on a sugar high like he’d never seen on her before, and asks to play the guitar.

He’s hesitant, but not because he’s still protective of his guitars, more because he doesn’t want her to embarrass herself in front of her friends. Kids are cruel, even and especially at seven, and the last thing he wants is this to be the thing that kids talk about for the next ten years.

She sits on the couch and holds it, arranging her fingers…correctly. Eddie watches.

Steve is watching from across the room.

She starts strumming, very quietly at first, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago. And then she starts really playing.

It’s one of the songs Eddie wrote. He played it for the last four months nonstop as he perfected it, and she’d apparently been watching.

Eddie’s jaw is on the floor and he quickly looks over to Steve, who has a similar look of surprise on his face.

He doesn’t interrupt her. She makes it through the entire song.

She looks up.

“When did you learn to play guitar?” Eddie asks.

“When I was watching you.”

“But have you played before tonight?”

Amelia shook her head, looking down. “Didn’t wanna touch it without asking.”

Eddie pulls the guitar from her hands and sets it aside, then pulls her into his lap and hugs her. Steve sits down on the couch next to them, hand on her back.

“You can always ask, sweetie. And if you’re this interested and this natural, we can buy you your own guitar if you want. I didn’t think you were interested in playing.”

“I wanna be like you,” Amelia admitted against his shoulder.

Eddie was done for. He looked at Steve, half-panicked, trying not to cry in front of these people, but Steve wasn’t faring any better.

“Then we can go get you a guitar tomorrow. You can get your own picks, too. They might even have purple ones.”

“Can I have red? Like yours?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

It only took them two days after that to realize she could play by ear, just like Eddie.

And then it only took another day after that to realize she had taught herself to read music too.

They spent hours and hours every week playing together while Steve cooked dinner or checked her homework or just watched them.

When Eddie’s band decided to record another album and go on tour when Amelia was 12, Eddie insisted that she get to be on it.

She ended up helping write one of their songs, played on the track on the album, and with a lot of work, convinced Steve to let them homeschool her for the entire 8 months they’d be on tour so she could perform on stage with her dad.

“Can’t believe she’s not even genetically yours. Are you sure you didn’t have an affair?” Steve asked the night before they were leaving for Europe.

“When would I have had an affair? I came back to the tour bus or hotel with you every single night,” Eddie kissed him softly. “She’s amazing, huh?”

“She is. What happens when she wants to be a full blown rockstar like her dad too?”

“Then we make sure she’s protected and has good people around her like I have. She could be a rockstar easily. She’s got the talent and the presence,” Eddie smiled. “And she’s got me to make sure no one takes advantage of her. But she’s only 12. We’ve got time to worry about that later.”

“You’re bringing her onstage every single night all over the world for the next eight months, baby. I think later is now.”

Eddie sighed. “She’s gonna blow them all away. I’m proud of her. Let’s focus on that for now.”

And she did blow everyone away. The fans and the media had nothing but good things to say, and Steve didn’t have to go into overprotective mom mode at all until she was 15 and signing a record deal of her own.

But between Eddie and him, the entire industry knew better than to fuck with her or them.

They made rules, of course. School still came first, she still had required family events to be at, she still had regular friends at home. She wasn’t allowed at any parties, not even the events for award ceremonies.

But she didn’t really need those rules. She had no interest in parties or abandoning her friends or family, and she was a straight A student who still had hopes of getting into Brown for Journalism like her Aunt Nancy. She had a passion for music and wanted to share it, but not at the cost of the rest of her life.

And Eddie and Steve did everything they could to make sure she got to have everything. That’s what they’d promised her from day one.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #so adoption is complicated #and I won’t pretend that there are plenty of aspects of the system that are so fucked beyond repair #and this is not the time or place to talk about them #so don’t do that in the comments #you’ll get blocked tbh because we’re here in this specific space to have fun #that is all #steddie dads #also this isn’t how the industry works #this isn’t how the media works #the world is cruel to young performers #but we’re pretending #this is fiction

753 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

Text

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

#pluralistic #john stewart #the daily show #apple #monopoly #lina khan #ftc #too big to fail #too big to jail #monopolism #trustbusting #antitrust #search #enshittification #kagi #google

438 notes · View notes

adkawariatka · 4 months

Text

I can’t stop thinking about this idea soooo here is another part.

In hindsight Tim really shouldn’t have worked himself so much about that friend of Damian. Why you might think? Becouse spying your brother’s friend is an invasion of his privacy? Or just creepy? Or maybe its unfair towards said brother and his friend? No. No Tim problem was much more human shaped. He did plan to be subtle but with DAMIAN. Not with his very annoying and moral older brother. When Dick found him in Bat Cave in his work trance and asked him what he was doing…. Tim just told him, damn his one track focus. It earned him a lecture about privacy, respect and morals….So he was forbidden from any camera videos in areas that Damian met his misterious friend. He felt so frustrated when he tried to explain his worries to Dick and he called him paranoid… which fair he may be sometimes fixated on some cases and a little suspicious of everything too… normal. But Dick was just so happy about the information that Damian had a friend, that he did not think about the fact that other normal 10 year old would never be able to talk with Damian about complicated emotion problems … let alone how to solve them. The time of Damian working on friends mission, Or differently meeting with some stranger, and changing his behaviours at manor lined. SO that someone needed to talk with Damian about his social problems. The only logical way of explaining the „condinience” would be if that person was someone older. Old enough to understand social interactions to the level that allowed them to introduce it to Damian. It painted disturbing picture to Tim. Some Creep manipulating his younger brother. It can lead to a disaster not only for Damian but all the Waynes. What if he will Trust that person and tell them their secret? The talk with Damian only opened his eyes that above all the training the kid had he was still just that: a kid. The only thing that Dick advised him was to go and talk with Damian. Which ok, last time went well but…. he might at least try.

Tim did not wanted to believe that it was that easy. Of course he didnt start to snoop about the friend yet…. But just interacted with Damian. First time was really akward but they got past it. Tim still cringes at the memory:

It was after patrol they were changing in to civilian clothes. Tim was battling with his thoughts how to start conversation when Damian started to pull out his equipment for sharpening his katana. And he thoght that it is as good subject as any other.

-how long does it take to sharpen it?

Damian stopped what he was doing and gazed at him warly. They stood in complete silence long enough to be uncomfortable. Tim started to think that it was mistake when Damian broke the silence.

-do you…want to see?

And Tim did want. It turned out that it was great idea. Damian talked for almost an hour about granuality of sandpaper used to sharpen his katana, different kinds of oils and even how to storage it properly. Tim was impressed by detailed knowledge and experienced movements. That was his first full Blown conversation with Damian and it was great.

After that they interacted with each other more and more outside of patrols. They weren’t conversations of utter importance, but Tim got fond of them. More often than not it revolved around things as trivial as favourite books, school, fight techniques Or even hobbies. If Tim was being honest he did not Think that Damian would ever talk about such topics. In the past he often expressed his annoyance at information of this type, but not anymore. Tim suspected that it was the influence of his „friend”. However among those unsuspecting subjects Damian sometimes asked questions that worried Tim.

One of the untold rules of their interactions were that they never talked about the „deep stuff”. Which was why he was so surprised by sudden change of topics during unsuspecting conversation about donating clothes to Damian school, which by the way he was doing things like that now. Without any warning he heard question:

- when you were living in Darke manor were you… lonely?

That was weird question to ask without warning. But… was Damian worried about him? Or was he feeling like he has no one close? But there was also second aspect: From beggining of their interactions they avoided any subjects that Tim was prying for and here Damian was offering it on silver platter. He was not going to waste that chance.

-hmmm… well I was young and alone for most of the time so yes I was

Damian seemed to mull over that information. After short pause he started

- What did you do to feel better?

- I mostly tried to take my mind elsewhere. I cooked, cleaned, studied, went around making photos of Batman in the middle of the night… but I wouldn’t recommend that to anyone. Oh and I read many many books. But you know the best option is to go to people that care for you.

- that seems acceptable.

After that Damian came back to the previous subject. Tim felt a little dumbfounded. He couldn’t shake the impression that he was the one grilled for information in this situation.

Not long after that memorable conversation Damian started going to library very often. Tim was now seriously worried. Did Damian felt lonely? Did he actually think that he has no one. It didn’t seat with Tim right. He doesn’t mean that he was uneasy with Damian trying to help himself… it was more about the fact that he was doing it wrong… he had Dick and Bruce, Alfred, his supposed friend… hell Tim was right here! He thought that their relationship was better. He thought… he doesn’t know what he felt but he was damn upset about it. If Damian does not came to Tim then he will come to him. When he passed library third time that week and Damian was there picking books he decided that it was enough.

When he entered Damian was standing on a small stool picking books from the shelf high above his head. Tim walked to the stack of already picked ones and went through their titles

- I didn’t know you were interested in astrology… or maths and physics

- I am not

Replayed Damian without the beat of hestitation. Tim looked at him as if he grown second head.

-then… why did you choose those books? I can help you find some about katanas or animals

- I appreciate the offer but I do not require your assistance.

Tim stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, while Damian apparently found what he was looking for and got of the stool. He turned around and meet Tim’s unsure eyes. In his hand he held huge brown book with constellations on the cover. Damian studied him for a moment.

- Drake

- Damian IF I can somehow help…

Cut in Tim trying to act as a responsible older brother. Where the hell was dick when he was needed. He was the emotional one. His small breakdown was interrupted by Damian words:

- Timothy I don’t know what inaccurate conclusion you created but whatever you are thinking is wrong

It sounded only a little as an insult. That’s progress but it does not solve his problem.

- Damian if you look for a way to feel better…

Tim trailed off God he was awful at this. He had problems processing his feelings how was he supposed to untangle Damian’s?!

- Ancients Those books are not for me.

Tim stared dumbfounded. Who the hell were ancients and if books weren’t for Damian then…

-they are for Danny

Ok Tim did not know from when did Damian started using nicknames, or who was Danny but he started to have his suspicions. Who did Damian became close lately? To the mysterious friend. It was not difficult from there.

-soooo Danny told you he was lonely?

Tim swears that if some creep is trying to pry on his little brother developing compassion then he is going to make sure he will pay for it very high price. He needs as much information as he can get.

- No he did not. But I observed that…his mood drops whenever we had gone longer without seeing each other…. Your advise seems to help

Huh. Tim did not expect that. However that does not seem that it is not manipulation either. Danny might be playing the victim to ensure that Damian trusts him completely.

- hey Damian how old is Danny?

Damian narrowed his eyes and tensed. Oops Tim just crossed the line.

- I don’t see any reason I should inform you about that.

That was rather cold. Tim is glad that Damian’s katana is away from his hand radious.

- If he is lonely then he could sometimes visit manor. Come for dinner or something. It’s not like our friends don’t visit.

Damian eyes softened a little. Tim counted this as a win.

- I will take that into account.

After that Tim helped Damian carry his books to his room and tried not to worry too much about his suspicions.

In Tim’s defense he did not plan this. He was just checking out the coffee shop close to the park when he bumped into them in the doorway. He exited said store when he stumbled into someone. Only after a moment he processed that said someone held in hands the same huge brown book with familiar constalations on the cover. And sure enough when he looked to the left there was standing Damian. The boy who held the book was Laughing and looking at his younger brother. Tim studied him carefully he had piercing blue eyes, hollow cheeks indicating malnutrition and black tangled hair that seemed in serious need of a cut. He was wearing jeans that in the past were probably navy blue but now seemed more gray and brown pulled jumper very similar to what he used to wear few years ago. He was lanky in that unhealthy way that kids from troubled homes were. Tim smiled slyly and caught Damian eyes. He seemed really tense.

- hey Danny nice finally meeting you!

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dick grayson #dpxdc #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #story #writing

375 notes · View notes

writingrock · 22 days

Text

petals of longing

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: after spending time with bakugou, you couldn't help but make the dire mistake of falling in love with him.

notes: angst, unrequited love, hanahaki disease, mentions of blood, college! katsuki bakugou, rejection

word count: 2.2k

a/n: I lied, I have more angst in my drafts.

edit: there's a continuation here

Has he ever noticed you?

After listening to Bakugou talk about training for the past hour, you couldn’t help but rethink about your presence in his life. The two of you are in his dorm room, having another one of those late night conversations. You weren’t sure when but having late nights together became normal.

It didn’t matter whose room or what the conversations were. The only thing that mattered was that it had to only be the two of you. At first, it started off as night study sessions but it devolved into something more casual.

The two of you got close by chance. It all started with some assignment where the two of you happened to be paired up. From the beginning of the project, he had displayed his frustration to be paired with you. Something about being paired with ‘some extra’. You paid no mind to his comments and essentially forced him to comply with you.

Bakugou did eventually get used to you. Working with you was effortless. Not like he'd ever admit that. He liked working with someone who cared like you. It was refreshing to see someone match his hardworking nature. There were late nights and countless revisions over this project. It was tiring. You could recall how badly you wanted to yank your eyeballs out during certain nights.

But the two of you kept encouraging the other, keeping each other alive and motivated. Bakugou always specifically made sure you were eating. To the point where he cooked for you during those study sessions. It was always paired with his long spiel about how important it is to take care of your body. Ironic, considering the number of sleepless nights the two of you shared over this project.

But it was all worth it when the assignment returned highly-graded. The look on Bakugou’s face when he read the commendations from the professor was memorable. Pure satisfaction. These two words describe his expression perfectly. The way his eyes gleamed with a sense of achievement when he read the professor’s comments.

You’d never seen such a proud grin stretched on his face. “We make a pretty good team.” he remarked as he admired the result displayed on your laptop’s screen. You should have realised then that you saw him differently. Whilst his eyes remained glued to the screen, yours were admiring him.

You thought that would be the last you’d see of Katsuki Bakugou. That the two of you would return to being strangers after the project. Afterall, he wasn’t ecstatic in being your project partner initially. To your surprise, Bakugou started hanging around you. In subtle ways of course. It started with small texts about lectures— asking about deadlines, exchanging notes and arranging study sessions.

At first, you didn’t think much about it and figured it was beneficial to both parties to become study partners. But it slowly became more than that when he started inviting you to do stuff with him. Accompanying him to the grocery store because he needed help with the groceries. Making you watch him cook so you could learn and try his new recipe. Then eating with him because he made too much.

Before you knew it, the two of you became friends. A friendship that most did not expect and even questioned. Spending time with him brought the two of you closer. Peeling back the layers of Bakugou and uncovering the nuances that uniquely made him who he is. Learning easy details about him like his favourite foods and hobbies. Occasionally, you'd hear snippits of his deeper thoughts if he'd allow.

You even got used to his insults, forming witty comebacks in response to them. It stunned him when you fired back at his words for the first time. Resulting in endless banter you deal with daily. His brash exterior you once deemed unnecessarily aggressive became something you understood. The closer you got, the softer he became. However, with that came a flower.

A tulip.

A blood-stained, pink tulip that you retched out one night. You jolted awake one night, gasping desperately for air. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps as the coughing fit intensified, each spasm more forceful than the last. Did you get sick? Another violent cough wracked your body. No, this is definitely something else. Fear gripped your heart when you realised how clogged your throat felt. The panic you felt that night was unmatched to anything you’ve ever experienced. Throwing the covers off your body, your mind raced for answers. The air felt thick, suffocating, as you stumbled out of bed. You barely made it to the bathroom, the cold tile floor sending a shock through your bare feet. What was happening to you?

Falling to your knees in front of the sink, your reflection in the mirror blurred by the tears welling up in your eyes. Your heart pounded hard against your chest. With a final, desperate heave, the mystery lodged in your throat finally gave way. You doubled over the sink, feeling something solid and foreign in your mouth. Trembling, you opened your lips, and a delicate pink tulip fell into the sink, its petals slightly crushed but unmistakably beautiful. The vibrant colour stood out starkly against the white porcelain, its soft edges smeared with the faintest trace of blood. A cold wave of realisation settled in your gut like a stone. You have it don’t you. You weakly draw a slow breath. Hanahaki disease—the tragic, unspoken affliction of the lovelorn. A disease born from unrequited love.

You just had to fall in love with him.

The tulip in your hand was just the beginning, the first bloom of many. And as you stared at its delicate beauty, you felt the bitter sting of irony—the same love that had once filled your heart with warmth and hope was now destined to consume you, one petal at a time.

花言葉 Hana ko to ba: チューリップ Tulips [ pink ] - caring, attachment, happiness

Has he ever noticed you? Did he notice the times you’ve hurriedly excused yourself to throw up these plague of flowers? How much weaker have you been? Or even the trail of pink petals you leave behind? Your eyes find him leaning against the bed frame, scrolling on his phone. Oblivious to your suffering. How you wish you could be blissfully ignorant too. It’s been a month since you learnt of your condition. You’ve tirelessly tried to fall out of love with Bakugou. Avoiding the areas he frequents and making lame excuses that you can’t see him. Texting him less and telling yourself that he’s just some asshole. He’s not even that good looking. Right? His deep, rumbley voice isn’t attractive at all. Bakugou’s voice belongs to an old man who eats cigarettes. Plus, his attitude sucks. There's absolutely no reason for you to love him.

Oh, but… one look at him and it all crumbles down. His eyes, fierce and crimson, are like molten embers—burning with a relentless fire that you’ve always admired. Those wild locks you love to run your hands through. His chaotic crown of ash-blond spikes that comedically defy gravity. It frames his face in a way that accentuates his sharp features. Specifically his irritatingly perfect, sculpted jawline. And, of course, his voice never did sound like a senile smoker. You’ve always found his gravelly undertone to be hot. His looks weren't the only thing that made you gravitate to him. The air around him crackles with raw energy and confidence. He's strong-willed and fierce, he's unforgettable. You want to be by his side and watch him achieve his ambitions. Aside from all that, it's how soft he becomes when it's just the two of you. No matter how much you told yourself you didn’t love him, he only needed to appear for your heart to race. Lying to yourself was useless.

Deep in your lungs, you could feel a tightness that’s been building for weeks. You knew it was getting worse yet you refused to confess. But this curse wasn’t going to give you time. It hits you hard. You catch on quickly that this flowery misfortune is flaring up now. With you sat on the floor of his dorm. The pain in your chest intensifies, a sharp, burning sensation that spreads to your throat. Your stomach twists with anxiety and fear, but beneath it all, there’s a quiet, desperate hope. It dawns on you that you are unable to keep your secret for much longer. You have to tell him now. It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to take notice of your pain. Alarmed, he goes to your side, putting his hand on your back.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t look too good.” His voice carries a gentle warmth, confused with the sudden change from you. Softly, he rubs circles on your back in an attempt to soothe you. Unfortunately for you, his concern only makes the tightness worsen.

“Katsuki, I have to tell you something– ” Your voice trembles as you utter those words. You’re barely holding it together from the twisted pain. Just as you take one shaky breath, a cough forces its way through. A red petal lips past your lips, falling to the floor. The petal alone being the confession you were meant to voice. You press your hand over your mouth, letting out a sob.

花言葉 Hana ko to ba: チューリップ Tulips [ red ] - declaration of love, true love, eternal love, romantic love, believe me

“I… love you Katsuki. I’ve always loved you.” The words come out in a rush, each one a painful release. “From that moment we got assigned together, you’ve taken my heart.” You can’t stop the tears now; they spill over, sliding down your reddened cheeks. Each breath you take brings another cough, another handful of those red petals, each one soaked in the essence of your clandestine love. The petals start to fall faster now, flooding the floor with these red tulips.

Bakugou is frozen in place. His widened eyes stuck onto the floor that is now scattered with red petals and tulips. The moment that petal flew out, he knew what you’ve been suffering with. Reluctantly, he turns to look at you. “You…” What does he even say in this moment? Words lose him as his mind races for a solution for this whole situation. Something has to ease your pain. Is there a cure for this unforgiving disease? Bakugou knows himself and the reality of this situation. The cold, harsh reality is that he doesn’t love you. His features harden as he grits his teeth, swallowing hard. “You… hopeless idiot. Fucking hell.” Is all he manages to say. He can’t bring himself to crush you with the raw truth. His lips twist into a scowl. Why did you fall in love with him? Why did you make the mistake of loving him? You absolute fool.

“I never wanted you to fall for me.” he wished to say.

He doesn’t need to say it. Another flurry of petals erupt from your mouth. These red tulips are stained with blood. The fluid sticking on them in sickly sweet fashion. His hesitancy is the only answer you need. His silence speaks volumes. Bakugou does not love you. Your heart sinks as you find the courage to face him. To take one look at the handsome face you’ve grown to love. However with one look, you regret ever catching a glimpse of him. That detached, impassionate expression of his shattered your heart. How could he look at you with such indifference as you regurgitate your declaration of love. You didn’t blame him for not feeling the same way. But the way he looks at you makes you feel sick. You couldn't accept how he's looking at your pain as if it were meaningless.

He looks at you like you’re nothing to him.

“Look.” With your remaining strength, you fist up a bundle of these petals. Shoving them in front of his distant gaze. You wanted him to see them, the raw consequences of your love for him. Red petals, dripping in red secretions in your grasp. Blood dripping from your fingers to the floor. “I am literally head over heels for you,” You spat, a few more petals leaving your mouth. Facing his glare with your own. It’s hard to speak but you need to. You need to scream at him. Did all of your memories with him mean nothing? To look at you with such an apathetic expression hurts you more than this wretched disease. There never was a chance for the two of you.

“But here you are,” You scoff as you lower your hand. Letting the petals sink to the floor. You should have known better. He's right. You're just a pathetic fool. A fool that can't even bring herself to hate him even now. “indifferent to everything that I’m feeling.” A full bulb of a tulip tumbles from your mouth. The final, yellow tulip lands silently by their feet. Your heart sinks, and the pain in your chest doesn’t disappear. Why does your quivering heart still beat with such passion for him? The yellow tulip stands alone, its petals vibrant and golden, glowing softly in the light. Blood clinging onto its velvety surface and seeping into the grooves of the petals. Everything dissipates, you only feel despondent.

花言葉 Hana ko to ba: チューリップ Tulips [ yellow ] - brightness, sunshine, hopeless love, unrequited love

You pull away from his embrace, accepting the rejection. Wobbling as you rise to your feet and turn to the door. Bakugou tries to reach for you, trying to find the right words. You don’t entertain him, swatting his hand away as you shake your head. Turning to the door before he could catch sight of the fresh tears in your eyes. You walk out the door with heavy steps and an aching heart. Now with every breath, flowers bloom within you to remind you of a love that will never be reciprocated. Your unrequited love.

a/n: just something quick because my brain was rotting. I don't offer free therapy on my blog, sorry :) @chocogoldie

In case you needed me to say it, hanatokoba is japanese flower language.

Reader's last words are from the angst prompts over at @me-writes-prompts !!!

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

267 notes · View notes

merakiui · 11 days

Note

Mera! I'm not sure if youve done this before but who are the winners and losers(and their tap out times) for no nut November??

Winners

✧ Riddle - the rule is to last the entire month without cumming; you know he's going to take it way too seriously.

✧ Jack - something something Ace and Deuce (losers) tease him about being easy, and he has his pride as a wolf and he always brings his all to competitions so,,,, he will ultimately win.

✧ Ruggie - if you bet money or food on him losing, he's going to win just to make sure he gets that from you. He is very serious and dedicated.

✧ Jamil - unfortunately, he only wins because he's too busy. </3 rip Jamil. You'll have all of December to make up for what you lost.

✧ Rook - no one knows how or why he does it, but because Rook was in the mood to see how he would fare in NNN he ends up winning somehow. He is so bewildering. Epel wants to know his secret.

✧ Azul - he would've gone in the loser category, but something tells me Azul is another type who is too busy to bother with NNN. And so he'll win solely because his mind is on other things (academics, Mostro Lounge, contracts, money, etc).

✧ Silver - he wasn't even trying to win. He just can't stay awake long enough to deal with his arousal. :(

✧ Sebek - miraculously, Sebek survives the entire month, but that's only because he treated the entire thing like it was a form of training. Also, he couldn't let Silver win all of the glory!! >:(

Losers

✧ Deuce - he lost the first day because he forgot what month it was and by the time he remembered it was NNN he had literally just came in his hand. T_T better luck next year.

✧ Ace - genuinely tries to do better than Deuce so he isn't teased for having a weak dick, but he folds like a week or so in.

✧ Cater - he is not winning NNN. </3 I think he can last at least half of the month if he isn't spending his time scrolling through risqué content.

✧ Trey - he's too stressed playing big brother to the underclassmen and making sure Riddle isn't overdoing it with the beheadings to pay attention to NNN. Stress relief is one of the few things he looks forward to when he has free time and isn't using it to do other hobbies. But also,,, he doesn't care as much for NNN as others might.

✧ Leona - another one who doesn't really care about NNN. He's a few days in when he loses, but he's not even participating.

✧ Floyd - lost right at midnight LOL. Not that he had any plans to genuinely try. Bragging rights isn't a good enough reward. Why is he going to suffer through a hard-on just for something as measly as bragging rights? :/

✧ Jade - you'd think he'd win because he's Jade, but it's precisely because he's Jade that he loses. He'll push himself to see just how far he can go and how many days he can last. While everyone else plays normal NNN, he is playing X-games mode. This eel is going out of his way to purposely get aroused just so he can edge himself throughout the month. Ultimately, once he's had his fill of fun and sated his curiosity, he'll handle his business. <3

✧ Kalim - he forgot NNN was a thing for a moment. He's the type to be like "Oops, I forgot about that! Can we pretend those four didn't count? Let me start over!" T_T he probably lost three days in.

✧ Vil - he is not going to deny his body what it needs all for a silly challenge. Firstly, masturbation can be healthy for the mind and body. Secondly, there's really nothing substantial to gain from a challenge like that. Vil sees no point in it.

✧ Epel - this means everything to Epel. It's to test his restraint as a man! To prove to himself that he isn't going to fold so easily! To show that he has what it takes to be strong! (He loses at the end of the first week. He really was trying his best...)

✧ Idia - no chance he is winning. He'll give it his best effort if he's feeling it, but it's impossible to resist the temptation when he's watching hentai. He either taps out in the very beginning or somewhere in the middle of the month.

✧ Malleus - he doesn't even know what NNN is, but based on these rules he lost towards the end of the month. In his defense, the horny nature of a dragon far surpasses that of the pride gained from winning NNN.

✧ Lilia - he goes on and on about how he may be old, but he's far from impotent. Thus, he will prove just how impressive his restraint is. After all, back in his day, it was impossible to find the privacy to get a good wank in when sleeping outside in inclement weather conditions. But perhaps that will serve him well now as he proceeds to win this NNN without trouble! ...he loses in just five days.

✧ Rollo - he is above these foolish, filthy challenges. Or so he claimed, but suddenly your undergarment is wrapped around his dick on the last day of November. He is strong, but lust is stronger.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw

183 notes · View notes

potatomountain · 5 days

Text

CIY- CH 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Belonging" 📍WC: 3.6k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, mentions of emotional neglect? slight misogyny 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune

masterlist | Previous | Next

“What do you mean talk?” You mumbled out, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck which reminded you of the tattoos he had there. You swallowed, reminding yourself that it wasn’t uncommon for cops and detectives to have tattoos, you had some yourself. “I mean just that. We need to talk. I’m… well aware of how close you’re getting to everyone. Well, mostly everyone.” You still didn’t relax, instead you were bristling now. “If this is another warning to mind my business I-” “No no, it’s not that. It's pointless to try and keep you out of this now. But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. Can I take you out to lunch? Have just a normal conversation about this? I’ll drop you off downtown today instead of Wooyoung.” He didn’t appear ready to tear you a new one or threaten you with a wad of cash to disappear like you half expected… the tea you’ve been hearing at the club was starting to get to you. This isn’t a k-drama.

“Okay.” You reluctantly obliged, letting your arms drop and reaching for your heels. Seonghwa reached out and grabbed a pair of leather boots instead. “You’re going to need these instead.” Skeptical, but not going to ask questions, you took the boots and pulled them on. Thankfully they still went with your outfit but you didn’t understand why the boots-

Until you were standing before a motorcycle and Seonghwa was holding out a helmet to you. Taking it, you watched with new appreciation as he pulled a leather jacket on. Somehow biker was not on the list of hobbies you thought he would have. In fact you hadn’t thought too much about Seonghwa in ways you liked to acknowledge, more often than not just admiring how fucking gorgeous he was.

But that had changed since last week, when you were sure he had gotten off to what Wooyoung had done to you. He hadn’t shown interest before then, so it had sent your mind in a downward spiral any time you did think of him. Once more you were marveling at this new information about him as you pulled the helmet on, climbing onto the bike behind him once he motioned for you to do so. Where to put your hands was another thing.

Seonghwa didn’t hesitate, grabbing your hands and wrapping them around his waist, your mouth suddenly going dry as you realized how small his waist was. You could hear his chuckle through the helmet, your body getting pulled with his as he leaned forward a bit to start the bike. Your chest was pressed firmly against his back, breathing hitched as you tried to just focus on anything else but him. Then you two were moving through the streets with ease, the heat and hum of the bike beneath you was as exhilarating as the wind on your bare legs and the ripple of his muscles under your hands. You wanted to feel it more, releasing your grip to sit up straighter, just to have his hand cover one of yours. He didn’t tug you back in place, but fingers entwined to keep you from going too far.

It was almost romantic, and you hated how it had your heart racing for a whole other reason than the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

In an attempt to get your bearings about you, you shut your eyes and just took in the moment, debating on just how much you could trust the man before you. His icy welcome, his attempts to control Hongjoong’s flirting, the way he refused to kiss you when Hongjoong did… But there was also the way he scolded Yunho the one time you had been late, telling him to be nice to you, when you knew he didn’t have to. His attempts at a truce, at keeping the peace, managing you and the others. But then there had been the gym, the practicing, his praise and encouragement when they first started opening up their work to you.

Could you confidently say that Seonghwa hated you? That he disliked you? Or had he just been trying to be protective over his friends? Tried to manage the hostility from the beginning and it just came off… wrong?

Lost in your head, the sudden stop had you hitting Seonghwa’s back with a surprised gasp, blushing under the helmet as his body shook with laughter. In an attempt to save face, you pulled your hands away and looked around. You were more uptown, still center city, but were outside a cute mom and pop cafe that seemed to have quite a bit of business despite the starbucks a few buildings down and a few other chain mainstream stores around. Stepping off the bike you took off your helmet, keeping your back to him since you still felt quite flustered. “This is where we’re eating?” “Yeah, this would be my favorite place to go.” Seonghwa hummed, taking off his helmet, not a hair out of place as he set both on the bike and secured them. “Do you like sweets?” You shrugged, watching him with as cool of an expression as you could muster. “On occasion, yes. I got my favorites. You like strawberry things right?” His eyes widened, lighting up with pure joy as he stepped closer. “So you pay attention to us too?” The charming smile on his lips disarmed you, finding yourself even more flustered. “Has anyone told you that you’re just unbelievably too pretty?” He laughed while you were gawking, a hand now covering your mouth at your outburst. Oh this felt dangerous. “Maybe. I could say the same about you though Angel.” He brought a hand to the small of your back, guiding you inside. Oh hell, you were speechless. It took every ounce of brain function to take in your surroundings, what you thought was a simple cafe was a bakery of sorts, but there were tables filled with all sorts of people eating lunch and sweets or just enjoying a coffee. Simple things like sandwiches, cakes, melon bread and more. Despite the busyness, it still had a homey feel to it with the decor, the staff, and just the general vibe. There was nothing you could give your full focus to that would keep you distracted from Seonghwa standing next to you, his hand on your back a constant reminder as well. This felt too cozy, he felt too comfortable with you. And after what had happened the last time you saw him? After what happened yesterday? You felt too charged up and vulnerable and he was just seeping into you through the cracks.

“What would you like?” He dipped into your field of view, expression friendly, almost innocent with the wide glossy eyes and sweet smile, a stark contrast to the outfit he wore that oozed sexiness. It caught you off guard, you had never seen him with such an… open expression in your presence before. “Um… surprise me?” As if you could focus on food anyways. Your nerves lit up in all sorts of ways.

He whistled appreciatively, nodding with enthusiasm as he quickly rattled an order off that, to your own ears, sounded like something you would order. His earlier words came rushing back: So you pay attention to us too?

The breakfast order that had been on your desk before. The notice when you had been late. You had chalked it all up to San but didn’t Yeosang scold Wooyoung to get you food you liked? Why did what you like to eat matter to these men? That wasn’t something you needed to pay attention to if you distrusted someone, if you wanted to keep them at bay.

But didn’t you also know Seonghwa liked strawberry things? That he admired his Captain and that it was probably more than a work relationship? You knew how San took his coffee, knew Yeosang was a genius with computers and that he had a cute lisp that always brought a smile to your face.

The more and more you thought of it, the more your face dropped, eyes widening. Seonghwa’s hold suddenly tightened on you, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw and force you to face him. “You know, sometimes it’s easy to read you like an open book. Does it frighten you that we pay such close attention to you?” You shook your head slowly, answering without even thinking about it. It was true, you weren’t scared at all by the attention: but by how much you liked it.

What if this ends up like S.K all over? You fall for one or a few of them, and then once you no longer fit their way of things, they would just toss you aside like Chan did? Panic swiftly washed over Seonghwa’s visage as he began to dab at the tears gathering in your lashes. “Angel. Angel, it's okay. This isn’t a bad talk. I’m not chasing you away or putting down boundaries. Not trying to scare you.” How soft he was being just had your throat tight with the need to sob. “I’m going to… find a seat.” You mumbled under your breath, afraid to speak up more as you turned and searched for a table. There were really only two, both right next to each other, and you sat at the one against the wall, facing the wall so that the rest of the crowd would not be able to see it if you broke. What the fuck was wrong with you? Had the week away from the others fucked with your brain? Deteriorated your walls to keep them at bay? You couldn’t trust them.

Right?

Or was it just the fear that if you did, you would get hurt again?

You couldn’t believe yourself. You weren’t afraid to get shot, stabbed, run over by a car if you had to do so for your goals. Your career had always been the focus of your life, following in your father’s footsteps. He was forced to retire after getting severely injured stopping a serial killer, now a retired detective who climbed up the ranks before recently retiring. Detective work had been his life, and by extension, yours. That was who you were, who you pride yourself on being. A damned good detective, an enforcer of justice and protecting the innocent at the cost of your own life. So why the fuck were you about to sob in the middle of a lunch rush in an unfamiliar cafe just because you realized this unit was worming their way into your heart, and it was beginning to seem mutual. Why the fuck did it scare you to get close? Chan couldn’t have fucked you up this badly? Was it the betrayal of them all? Your loyalty should be to the job, not the unit. But did that make you like Chan? Loyal to the job, not your emotions.

Everything was so messed up. The tray of food and drinks getting set down in front of you startled you, gaze flashing up to meet Seonghwa’s concern. His brow scrunched together further at the look on your face. “We have a lot to talk about it seems.” “I- Vice what is this talk about?” Work. Just focus on work. “Well, you mostly. How you’re adjusting to the unit. To everything that’s happened. I know a lot of what happened is not… normal. And we haven’t been treating you right either.” He handed you the drink and sandwich, then set his in front of him. Immediately he started sipping on the strawberry drink, some of the whipped cream smearing on his upper lip. Once more you were thrown for a loop. “I don’t- fuck is this a wellness check? Does my well-being really matter here?” Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, long tongue flicking out to clean up the cream, the glint of the piercing short-circuiting your thoughts. Oh fuck, him too? “It does matter. And not just because of the job. You want to be a part of this unit right? You want the respect, the trust, the bond we have?” His lips curved into a wry smile, watching you for a moment before he leaned forward, reaching out to cup your cheek. Your emotions, your desire for what he said must be so obvious on your features. “Angel… has anyone made you feel like you belong before?” It shattered you, his words.

There were times you thought you had it, but did you? Chan? No, he chose the unit, the rules. Minho had even scolded you many times, backing up Chan, becoming a second voice to him as opposed to as your best friend. Hyunjin might have that spot, and truthfully he felt like the only one who loved you as you were. Unconditionally. But even he had said that he wasn’t right to be by your side, saying you belong elsewhere, somewhere more. Seonghwa swiped your tears away. “We’ve been so cruel to you haven’t we? And yet you’ve been fighting tooth and nail to prove yourself to us. You fit well in your undercover work, you fit well with us. Wooyoung sings your praises daily, and Yeosang’s reports only have good things to say about your work. You work so hard Angel.”

His words felt like a warm, comforting blanket that encompassed you but also shook you to your core. You could remember so clearly getting accepted into the police academy, graduating at the top of your class and immediately rising through the ranks as a uniform. And in all of those moments had your father been proud? No, he just expected you to do these things. Your mother harking you whenever you had troubles “If you had been a boy, you’d be better at your job. You’d be more like your father.” Had you ever made them proud? You had blossomed under the praise Chan gave you when you first started, doing everything to seek it out. Until you realized how unjust some of the cases were. Then most. And his praise usually was followed with a scolding. And it resonated with you. Those kids, those cases, facing unjust rules that they couldn’t do anything about. Like you. Hadn’t Yeosang said that before? You had everything to prove, and nothing to lose. “Seonghwa…” Your voice croaked as you leaned into his hand, staring up at him with a new found vulnerability that seemed mirror in his sweet brown eyes. “I want to be an equal. I do want to belong.” He smiled softly, stood up, and leaned over to press a kiss to your temple. “Alright Angel, I hear you loud and clear. Now, tell me honestly how you feel.” He sat back down and pushed the sandwich closer. “After you eat and catch a breath. The questions are mostly about the… sexual encounters and tension so I want you prepared.” Heat flooded your cheeks, but you nodded and listened. You had, for the most part, been going with the flow of things, refusing to talk about the underlying emotions because, as he just pointed out, you had been too busy trying to prove something. To prove your worth. Was it actually possible that they really did see it? That some of them did at least, and that the others might?

Were you actually seen, accepted, and equal? He was nice enough to let you sit with your thoughts as you ate, focusing on his own food and watching for your reaction to your first bite. You saw the relief flood his features when you clearly liked it, swallowing and smiling softly. Seonghwa seemed as eager to please as you were, it seemed. The meal quickly calmed your nerves, getting comfortable with the realizations he had come to, and making more as you did. That’s why Yunho’s vulnerability had meant so much to you, while Wooyoung’s honest desire slipped past your walls so easily, and why you could understand their apprehension of you so well.

Even, you dare say, sympathizing with Jongho. He had his reasons, you were sure, and you knew just how hard it was to trust after being hurt.

Now the sex- that was the topic of discussion once you swallowed the last bite and Seonghwa was now returning with a second strawberry drink, with impossibly more whipped cream. It was cute, until his tongue flicked out and scooped up a generous amount. His tongue was long, and considering what was about to be discussed, had you thinking some questionable thoughts about it.

“So, let me make sure I know everything that has happened so far- and please, do not get upset that I know about these things, I’ll explain that alright?” You nodded as he squared up his shoulders, the professional aura surrounding him showing how serious this conversation was, but there was no judgment, nothing alarming about his posture either. You mirrored his posture, knowing that yes, this is a serious thing. It was sex in the workplace, and, if you were being honest, it was more than that. “It started with the club, which technically you did amazing with, but I can’t say that your shared kisses with Yunho and Mingi were just a part of your cover. They don’t see it as just a kiss, which I’m sure you’re aware of by now considering what happened with Mingi. There is also, from my understanding, what happened in the gym? Which… San should’ve been honest that we have security cameras in there that Yeosang has access to.” Your cheeks burned at the idea that Yeosang had seen what San did to you, but it also was relaxing to know it wasn’t San who spilled. That did bring up the urge to talk to Yeosang about it, apparently he really liked to watch you get off? That didn’t necessarily upset you either. “When was it brought up? What happened in the gym?” “When Mingi came in sporting hickies. He didn’t have any targets scheduled for the weekend so we had to question. As you know, any connections have to be known to the rest of us. And it’s not just because of our work. Wooyoung’s hinted at it, you’ve had a few glimpses as well… We have something that… that a majority of people would consider wrong or disgusting, but I don’t think you would. This isn’t like an offer for you either, but so you can understand what you might be getting into.” He continued, brow furrowed as he seemed to search for the right words. Especially since you were now smiling at it seemed to throw him off. “It’s a polycule right? Or well, of sorts. I sort of figured it out, though I had never known about it beforehand. Yunho sort of explained last night but I learned the term from some of Haru’s girl’s. They like to yap my ear off since I apparently have Haru’s approval.” He sighed with relief. “Yes, that’s pretty much it. Sex is a casual thing between us, though not all of us sleep with all the rest. I think Wooyoung would be the only one?” You laughed at that. “Oh I can see that. I swear he didn’t turn the camera off on purpose.” You pointed out and Seonghwa’s smile turned pained. “Yeah, probably not. He enjoys being watched, and you… well he wants you to be one of us. Has been set on it since the beginning. And no matter how much of a little shit he can be, he’s got the best damn judge of character, and we all trust it wholeheartedly. Plus…” Now it was his turn to get flustered, the tips of his ears red. “He knows us well.” With a tilt of your head, you urged him to continue. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well… he left the camera on not just for himself, but because he knew we wanted you. We want you. The only one I can’t speak for is Jongho but, Angel, being equal and part of our bond would mean being a part of what we have, and while most of us want that, we would never force it on you. It can be just sex and work for now, or whatever you need it to be. Just on one condition?” For the most part, you were shell shocked. He said it wasn’t an offer but it was clearly there, to an extent. But he was also emphasizing that there was no pressure to be a part of it. “What’s the catch?” “No matter how deep you get, I need you to talk to me about things. If it ends up being too much, if you have doubts, if you’re struggling with others. My job in the unit and in the polycule, is to take care of everyone else. To keep the peace, and help resolve conflict. Can you do that for me? Can you trust me enough for that?” You mulled over his words, staring him down as he now fidgeted with his hands, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for some tell that this was a lie- but that tell was simply that he was nervous, maybe even a little scared. Scared you wouldn’t trust him.

“I trust you Seonghwa. And I agree to your terms. Thank you for trusting me with this.” You reached over and placed a comforting hand over his, watching him visibly relax. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, scared this was going to end just like it did last time: trusting people, thinking you belong. It was too late to turn back though, wasn’t it?

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

#pirateeznet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic series #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #poly ateez x reader

182 notes · View notes

agirlwithglam · 3 months

Text

how to stop being so obsessed with them.

heyyy bestieees! heres a few tips to stop you from being so obsessed with them cus honeyyy its just not worth it. it doesn't just have to be romantically btw!

"she's literally perfect.. like how??" <- affirmations!

༄ ✬ move on! ༄ ✬

numero uno. move on. okay hear me out! there are 8 billion people in the world. (8 billion freeky deeking people). do yk how much that it? a lot of 0s. and i know for a fact that SO MANY of them would be thrilled to know you, to spend time with you, to love and respect you! if that 1 person out of 8 billion people doesn't seem to recognise your worth, so what?!

"oh but they're perfect and i just love them so much!" ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... sorry, what do you love again? the fact that they don't care enough to return a text, treat you right, make you feel loved?

"i just want them to love me back and treat me the way they treat others because they are so funny and always seem to make me and other people laugh!" oh ma lawd. ur not serious r u? you are?! okokok i won't make fun of you. i can relate to how that feels. but sweetheart, 8 billion. trust me, you'll find a lot more people who are twice as funnier and caring who will love you to the moon and back and make you feel like the most specialist person ever and massage ur crusty musty toes. jk about the last one- unless u want that?

༄ ✬ not everyone will know your worth. ༄ ✬

so asking questions like "but why can't they realise how great i am? or how funny i am? or how loving i am? i would do anything for them, why can't they realise that and treat me the same way back?" im sorry honey but the world doesn't work that way. if someone doesn't feel or treat you as if you're the most glamorous girl in the world, then you need to stop giving them sm energy and importance.

heres an analogy that i got from simonesquared on youtube: in gilmore girls, Rory has this super rich boyfriend Logan right? (who has the most cutest smile ever i might add) and he buys Rory a birkin bag. now to Rory, she doesn't realise the value of a bag like that! to her, its just another bag. she's grateful of course, but she doesn't fully realise the immense value this type of bag has.

༄ ✬ have a life outside of them.༄ ✬

lemme repeat that. have. a. fleeping. life. outside. of. them. they should NOT be the center of your life or the cause of all your actions NUH UH ABSOLUTELY NOT! its okay to do SOME things with the thought of them, but that part is separate from the rest of your life. your life is your life, not theirs!!

this can mean going to the gym, working out, finding new hobbies, educating yourself, self care, etc etc! but don't go about your life, thinking about them. you go about your life thinking about YOU.

༄ ✬ stop chasing them. ༄ ✬

"gee, thanks vanilla. thats so helpful! how did i not think about that earlier?" im assuming thats sarcasm, but whateverr. okay so if they know that you're chasing them, that you're obsessed with them, yk what they'll think? they'll think that 'oh! this person is chasing me, so she really wants me. so she'll stick around. i dont really need to try too hard to keep her cus i know she'll stay. i'll explore my options in the meantime :)'

GIRL do not so available like this! BE BUSY (which relates to the point before). once you glow up, work on your life, not taking it so seriously, and just being happy and enjoying this beautiful gift of life, they will start to think: 'oh! this person (you) is actually quite fabulous. i better try to make her feel happy/ be friends with her before i miss this awesome opportunity!'

cus girl, cmon, you've got things to do, places to be, and people to talk to. i've got goals and dreams and my bucket list. you don't have the time to sit here and be crazy obsessed. so like, if they just leave, um okay and? "yes, and?" what about it? am i meant to be bothered? likerrr okay, byee? i mean, i've got a lot of things to do so i could try to fit in a "help i need you" session between my pilates class and my cooking class? jk <3

༄ ✬ give yourself the damn love. ༄ ✬

why are you obsessed with them? why are you head over heels for somebody who literally couldn't care less? its because they have something that you feel like you're lacking.

is it the fact that they always seem so happy and laughing-y with people around them? that they get super high marks on their test? they are attractive? they have a high status? money? what is it?? often, we can actually give these things to ourselves. some, easier than others. but not impossible. if you really wanted to, you would get up, dust yourself up, and give yourself the love you crave. What you want in others, give to yourself first.

More resources:

How to stop comparing yourself & feel fulfilled without needing external validation.

Thewizardliz: becoming selfish was the best thing i did

Lumma Aziz’s videos

288 notes · View notes

dragonnarrative-writes · 8 months

Text

Part 3 - Meeting Kyle For Coffee

This is not in chronological order but I needed for this to get out of my head. Takes place after the end of Charlie's Charmed!Slasher!Simon series.

(If you don't want to read it, in the end, Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!)

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Kyle Garrick is just as unreasonably pretty as he ever was, sitting in the cafe and drinking something hot. He’s a bit leaner in the face than you remember from high school. His jaw is sharper, but his smile is still so inviting.

When he spots you coming, his smile seems to light up the whole room.

You say, “Thank you, for agreeing to meet with me. Give me just a minute to order?”

“I ordered you a caramel latte,” he says with a smile. “You still like them?”

“Yeah, I do,” you admit, and sit down.

“I asked them not to start making it until you got here,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “Figured you’d appreciate it being made fresh. All things considered.”

You blow out a breath and lean back in your chair. “That’s… actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I figured,” he says with a grin. “We haven’t talked since just after graduation. We do each other a favor, then say our sad goodbyes. And years later, out of the blue you hit me up? Looking for another favor. Could break a man’s heart.”

You bite your lip and look at the smiling man across from you. A barista appears at your elbow with an almost overfull mug and places it gently on the table. She gives Kyle a grin before flouncing away.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his own mug in a gentle salute. He waits until you’ve taken a sip to continue. “So, how big is he?”

“What?” When you look up at him, he’s still smiling. His face hasn’t changed. But his brown eyes are flat and empty. Your heart beats just a bit faster.

“How big is he? I don’t do things the way I used to. I need to know so I can make it look like an accident.”

The last time Kyle did you a favor, the coroner had not ruled it an accident. No one had ever been accused of or charged with the death of David Toole-Kirk. But that amount of thallium doesn’t eat a person from the inside out on accident.

“I… um. I didn’t ask you here for that kind of favor,” you say. Your hands are burning where they’re wrapped around your mug. You feel like if you take them off, you’ll freeze under his stare. “I was hoping that you could… give me some advice?”

That brings genuine mirth to Kyle’s eyes. “Oh, this aught to be good.”

“I just… there is a guy,” you say. “Just… Do you… still go… hunting?”

Kyle grins and sits back in his chair. “Hunting?”

“Please answer the question,” you groan.

His grin is wide. His teeth are perfect. “No, can’t say that I do. Bit more of the gardening type now, in my old age.”

“We’re not even thirty,” you say, dumbly.

“This guy you know,” he prompts, barely keeping back laughter. “He likes to… go hunting, then?”

“He’s a pretty avid… hunter,” you say, carefully. “But I was hoping that I might be able to help him find another… hobby?”

Kyle Garrick looks almost ready to burst at the seams with the laughter he’s holding in. If you hadn’t had such a recent and thorough reminder not to get complacent with predators, you might have swatted at him. As it is, you can only clench your jaw as you watch him try and fail to keep a straight face.

“I know,” you hiss, “I know.”

“You really, really don’t,” Kyle wheezes. “Oh my god.”

“He says he doesn’t want to hurt me,” you say, looking around nervously. “But he’s taken me hunting twice, and I can’t do that again.”

That’s what breaks him. He bursts into peals of laughter, peppered with “he’s taken you,”s and “oh my days,”s that fill the whole cafe. It shocks you into giggles.

“Will you quit it!” You eventually whisper-shout.

“How did you manage to meet two of us?” Kyle wipes tears from his eyes. “My word. He’s taken you on hunting trips, and now you want to find him a new hobby.”

“Please,” you hiss. “I’m a little bit desperate and a lot at the end of my rope, here.”

And then Simon Riley’s voice says, right behind you, “Garrick.”

You’re a little bit grateful that Simon’s hands wrap around your wrists from above at the same moment, because otherwise you’d have thrown your coffee in the air. His sternum presses against the crown of your head. You tip your head, just a bit, rolling your eyes up to see him. He’s not looking at you. He’s staring at Kyle.

Kyle grins. “Riley. Good to see you, mate. How’s the family?”

“Still dead, you muppet,” Simon says, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in. When you eye him, he’s got that not-quite-blank look that means he might be thinking about smiling. “How do you know my girl?”

“Went to secondary together,” Kyle says with a grin. “She was bloody terrible at chemistry. Luckily, we got paired up. I helped her with a personal project before she went off to uni. It’s been years. Was pleasantly surprised when she reached out.”

“You’re online?” Simon asks, disdainfully.

“Calls more attention not to be,” Kyle points out.

“Told you,” you can’t help but mumble into your drink.

Simon gives a considering hum and his usual answer. “Technically, I’m dead.” To Kyle he says, not bothering to lower his voice. “If you meet up with her without my permission again, I’ll kill you slow.”

You gape at him, and, daringly, slap his shoulder. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with.”

He leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sure, sweetheart.”

#my writing #cod #fanfiction #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #dark fic #simon riley x you #slasher handler #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #manic pixie dream ghost

475 notes · View notes

ocelettelatte · 10 months

Text

How are they when they do your hair?

Includes: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji x Curly Hair!Reader. (+Todo Bonus) Author's Note: First and possibly the last post I'll make. Made this just for fun so the characters might be OOC. Self-indulgent, but I did try to make the reader ambiguous. Divider by @/saradika

Gojo

Gojo learns how to do your hair pretty quickly.

He watches you do it once and he’s able to do it almost immediately.

He’ll go all out for you. That hairstyle you saw online? Boom you got it.

That one hair product you wanted but were always told you needed some kind of license to get it? I don’t know how, but he got it.

Your hair gets the slightest bit messed up and he’s pissed for you. Just straight whiny about it.

Has given you mini heart attacks before. “My bad I messed up, we gotta go bald.” while braiding your hair...

Buys all kinds of charms and accessories for your hair.

While he knows you shouldn’t do it often, he actually likes your hair straight. It always amazes him how long your hair actually is.

He also loves curl-defining. Going one by one curling each ringlet with his finger is oddly satisfying to him.

Definitely uses all of your products. When you ask about it, he’ll deny it.

Nanami

Nanami likes your hair however you like it. braids, twists, dreads, loose, straightened, wigs, short. If you’re happy with it then he’s happy.

If you ask him to do your hair, he’ll keep it simple. Nothing too flashy but not too basic.

He does this because he always feels bad when you have the prettiest hairstyles, knowing you’ve spent hours on it and it just gets messed up because of your line of work.

The face you make when you tell him it’s fine always tugs at his heart.

However, this doesn't mean he won't give you a glamorous hairstyle for date nights.

Nanami has bought little charms for you to put in your hair and keeps everything you leave at his place in a little basket.

Helps you with your hair when you’re getting ready for bed.

Buys a silk pillowcase just for you.

If he sees you're running out of product he'll use the last of it and buy you new ones.

If there's a particular product you have to order online, Nanami knows exactly when to order said product.

Geto

You always let the twins do your hair, Nanako being the most interested in it. You see it as a learning experience for them.

However, You never let Geto touch your hair. You weren’t too fond of his choice of words when referring to non-sorcerers.

After a bit of warming up to one another, you finally allowed him to do your hair.

Geto absolutely loves braiding your hair.

I’ve always thought that Geto might have picked up on some mundane hobbies once he started his cult. One of those hobbies being Ikebana. Which is why he loves hair braiding.

After learning how many intricate things you could do with this style, it would become his go-to thing.

He has the gentlest hands when doing hair.

With permission, he would put flowers in your hair. Sometimes he’ll go the extra mile of getting you to wear a Hakama or Kimono just to tie the whole look together.

Granted, he knows that he has to give your scalp a break. On those days he actually likes your hair loose.

Choso

All of his experiences doing hair have only been on himself. So when he meets you, he learns so much about his and your hair.

Unfortunately, Choso is scared to touch your hair. The last time he did he tangled it pretty badly.

He is so gentle that things end up getting loose and he has to start over.

Still learning all the different hairstyles. Confuses twists for dreads.

Constantly asking if you’re okay and making sure that he’s not hurting you.

Sometimes he hesitates when doing your hair and you reassure him that he’s doing fine.

Either uses too much product or not enough. There’s no in-between.

If you ask him to buy shampoo and conditioner, he'll get a little overwhelmed and come back with three in one.

Loves giving you any hairstyle that has twin tails. He also likes to put little ribbons in your hair sometimes.

Toji

“Stop moving your damn head.” Kind of vibes.

Definitely rough and says that he’s not.

Most definitely would pop you with the comb.

All jokes aside, Toji is pretty good at doing your hair. Though it’s like pulling teeth trying to convince him to do it.

Prefers if you’ve done whatever you needed to your hair so he can style it however.

Toji doesn’t have a favorite style for you. At the end of the day, it’s just hair to him.

Your accessories are floating around his place. He even stepped on one.

Here's a bonus because Toji was so short!

Todo

Todo definitely has everything he needs to do your hair. Unfortunately, just like that one hair lady in your life, he’s hard to get a hold of.

This Takada mega fan will cancel on you when he finds out there’s an event in the area. Those days you’ve contemplated going bald…

The only reason why you keep going back to him is because he's so damn good at it. It’s just one-on-one... and the occasional mentions of Takada, but you can deal with that.

Has tried to convince you to lock your hair a handful of times.

Gave you starter locks to see if you like it. If you don’t he’ll do whatever you like.

“Stop being so tender-headed.”

"HOW!?"

He’s not gentle but he’s not rough either.

Silk. Pillow. I’m confident that he owns at least one.

462 notes · View notes

syluscore · 3 months

Text

Leon's Special Recipes

~neighbor! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

randomly had to write this at 3 am last night. definitely leaves space for a part two if anybody's interested, but i do ask for an idea on how it should go! how would you react in this situation?

Word count: 1068

Content warning: nonconsensual cum eating, male masturbation

!!!!!GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+! MINORS DNI!!!!!

“Hi, Leon! Come on in,” You open your front door wide for your neighbor. You live in adjacent townhouses, him living on the end so you’re his only true neighbor.

He steps into your entryway and kicks off his shoes. “So, what brings you here?” He pushes a plastic container into your hands. You open it up and are met with the sweet smell of cookies. “What’s all this?”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing really. Trying new things; new hobbies and such. Trying my hand at baking and needed a taste tester. Luckily for me, I have a neighbor with a sweet tooth.”

You aren’t looking at him as he speaks, rummaging around in the container of freshly baked sweets. “Oh my God! Chocolate chip?” You pull a cookie out and take a huge bite, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sugar and gooey chocolate hit your taste buds.

You moan out happily and Leon can’t help but smile widely at you, while also shifting his hips to hide his hardening cock from the sounds you’re making–but that’s not important right now.

You swallow the bite down quickly before taking another. You talk with your mouth full, doing your best to cover your mouth with your hand, but too excited to bother with proper manners. “These are amazing, Leon! How many did you make?”

“Oh, about a dozen. I did keep some for myself. If a man won’t eat his own product, then it’s not a product worth sharing,” He lies through his teeth. He made a half dozen cookies especially for you. They’re not for him, or anyone else at all for that matter. Only you.

You finish a whole cookie and lead him into the kitchen. “Thank you, Leon. That’s so thoughtful. These aren’t going to last long over here. Can’t control myself around sweets.” Perfect. Knew his girl was greedy and it’s working in his favor so nicely.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thinking about trying peanut butter, oatmeal, white chocolate, and sugar cookies. Gotta keep myself busy when I’m not working, you know?”

You reach into the container and pull out another cookie. “Sorry, my mouth started watering at the sound of all of those. You gonna stop at cookies or are you going to expand your baking resume into other goodies?”

He hums thoughtfully, “Maybe. You like cupcakes?”

You smile brightly at him, pure joy in your eyes, “I love them!”

He was hoping you would. He’s been looking at homemade frosting recipes and he thinks he could make a pretty good batch of it. It’d be easy to slip his secret ingredient into those. Yeah. Next time he’s at the store, he’ll buy them out of cupcake supplies. Gonna keep you fully stocked on them.

“I’m glad we can help each other. I got someone to eat my treats and you get treats.” You nod your head as you nibble on your second cookie. “Anyway, sweetheart. Can’t hang around long, got an early morning tomorrow.” More lies. If he doesn’t get his hand around his cock within the next 5 minutes, he just might come in his pants.

“Oh, of course. Let me walk you out!” You finish your cookie before walking over to the sink and washing your hands, drying them quickly on your pants before leading him back to the front door.

He’s slipping his shoes back on as you thank him again and he quickly heads out the door, for the safety and privacy of his own home.

He practically slams his front door and locks it before his hands undo his belt, yanking his cock from his jeans and groaning out as his hand squeezes the base.

He’s not sure where he read it online, or what he was even looking at to find such a thing. Probably a Reddit thread or some gross porn flick. But as soon as he got the idea to put his semen in food, he couldn’t keep himself from feeding it to you.

He was constantly popping an erection the days leading up to baking your special cookies. But he kept from touching himself so he’d be loaded and desperate when it came time for your filling. When he was finally ready to add his come to the batter, all it took was a few strokes for him to shoot the fattest load he’s ever managed by himself.

He quickly shoved his dick back in his pants as he stirred it in and poured them onto a non-stick pan. He was still so pent up, he was hard again before the cookies were even done baking.

He made 6 average size cookies and 1 mini one. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of eating his own semen cookies, but he had to try it to make sure you couldn’t taste something off. He didn’t think it would make any sort of difference, he maintains an okay diet so he doesn’t taste half bad. But he needed to be thorough because he was desperate for this plan to work out.

And as soon as he popped that mini cookie in his mouth and started chewing, he knew you were going to love them. So many chocolate chips and sugar, it’s a sweets lover’s wet dream. He laid them out to cool while he cleaned up and by time the mess was gone, the cookies were cooled down enough to bring to you. So he cleaned himself up, packed up the cookies and walked over to your place.

Within minutes of returning to his own house, he’s leaned back on his couch, shirt stuffed in his mouth as he shoots more come across his abs. His mind is filled with the fresh memories of you eating your cookies and loving them. Thanking him for his special little treat for you.

And the next day when he runs into you on the way to your car and asks if you ate any more cookies, he’s super pleased when you tell him they’re all gone. Ate another before you went to bed. Got up in the middle of the night, tummy growling for another one. And then ate the last two for breakfast. He tells you he’ll get to work on your next batch and you giddily tell him you just can’t wait to try more of his yummy desserts.

~masterlist~

consider supporting me on ko-fi

254 notes · View notes

unabashegirl · 2 months

Text

Different 2 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: though I would finally share the second chapter of Different since so many people have expressed their interest on it. I just posted chapter 25 on Patreon and though it would be a good idea to post one here too.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters and much more :)

word count: 2.5K

“Harry!” Mitch barged into the quiet library. Some laughed at him, while others shushed him.

“Quiet, please! Mr. Styles, please remove yourself and your friend if you can’t keep your friend in order.” Harry frowned and began gathering his books and notes. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, so he kept his head down as he exited the room, with Mitch following closely behind.

“What do you want?!” Harry demanded as he made his way toward his dorm in search of some quiet.

“She is playing today,” Mitch almost yelled, wearing a big smile. “She is one of the captains of the soccer team.” Harry held his breath as he listened to the news. He felt his hands getting damp and moist. The mere thought of her being so close to him made him nervous.

“So?” He brushed it off, trying his best to act like he didn’t care or hadn’t been thinking about her the last couple of days. “What do you want me to do?”

“We have to go to the game and see her, fucktard,” Mitch insisted as they left the building. “Come on! I saw the way you looked at her! I know you like her.”

“She has a boyfriend!” Harry snapped back.

“Who?” Mitch stopped him, “That Brian guy?” Mitch laughed heavily, throwing his head back, only irritating Harry even more.

“Emma told me all about him. They used to date, and he is still hung up on her, but she is done with him. Emma told me that Y/N thinks he is too superficial.” Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair. The last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up. “Let’s go to her game!” Mitch repeated, “Come on! I am not asking you to propose to her.”

“Fine, but can you shut the fuck up about it already?” He needed some silence, just so he could pull himself together before seeing her again. She probably doesn’t remember us, he wondered. Harry had always thought Y/N was the type of girl who had multiple friends yet never remembered their names, and he felt like his name had been long forgotten.

They went back to their dorm and worked for a few hours before heading to the fields.

“I had no idea so many people came to these games,” Harry pointed out as they walked up the bleachers.

"Everyone is here to watch a bunch of girls running around in shorts.” Just as Mitch shared, the teams entered. Harry’s eyes instantly scanned the sea of girls in search of her. He spotted her running up while pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She stood by her coach, who seemed to be having a conversation with one of her teammates.

Y/N was happy. She enjoyed playing soccer. It had first started as a hobby and before high school ended it had developed into something more. She spoke to the rest of the team. They nudged one another and laughed. That was until the coach approached all of them. The entire team quieted down and started trailing behind her.

“I would do her,” Ezra Hart mumbled to his friend. He was known for playing with girls and using his good looks to get away with things. He was on the men’s soccer team. Harry had known him for years. They had even gone to the same high school.

The game quickly began. The players began moving fast. Everyone was yelling, and the referee kept blowing his whistle.

Y/N was receiving passes and placing the ball center, but at the same time, everyone was going after her. At one point, they kicked her and threw her on the floor. The referee whistled and pulled a yellow card on the opposing team.

It was a free kick and Y/N was taking it. Harry had clenched fists by his sides. He was nervous for her. The referee whistled and Y/N kicked the ball.

She scored.

Half-time came around and Harry watched as Y/N ran in their direction.

“Hey!” She smiled and kneeled by them. “Hey Mitch.” He smiled at her widely.

“You are doing great out there,” Mitch complimented her. “You are kicking ass.”

“Good. I am happy you are entertained,” she giggled and turned her attention to Harry. “Could you wait for me after the game? I need to ask you something.” Harry simply nodded, not being able to put the right words together. She gave them one last smile before running back to the bench.

“Styles!” Ezra Hart called out. Harry looked up at him, slightly intimidated by him. In high school, Ezra would embarrass him in front of everyone, and things hadn’t changed that much since. “Where do you know her from?” He scowled as his friends stood behind him for support.

“Met her at a party,” Harry shrugged and turned his attention back to the game.

“That makes no fucking sense. Are you fucking her?” His friends laughed, “Nah, there is no way. You probably get too nervous and can’t even get it up.”

Harry pulled on the strings of his hoodie, trying to shield himself from the laughs and comments.

Y/N played with the same rhythm but didn’t score any more goals. Roughly twenty minutes before the game ended, she got substituted. She sat down on the bench and started taking off her cleats and shin guards.

The game finally came to an end with the home team taking the victory. Y/N disappeared but quickly reappeared with her gym bag and a coat.

“Hey,” Y/N smiled as they all walked towards the parking lot. “Are you alright?” Y/N could sense that his mood had changed. Harry gave her a quick nod and tried his best to give her a reassuring smile. “I don’t usually do this, but I wanted to know if I could have your phone number.” Harry stopped walking and faced her.

“Y-you do?” Harry stuttered, not believing what he had just heard. Y/N giggled and nodded simultaneously, leading him toward her car. “But��” he stopped himself, trying to keep all the negative thoughts out of his head.

Y/N threw her bag on the backseat, then leaned against the side of her car.

“But what?” She frowned, “Is there anything wrong?” Y/N asked innocently in a soft and sweet tone that could bring any man to his knees.

“N-no,” he shook his head and reached back, taking his phone from his back pocket. Harry handed his phone to Y/N so she could type her number.

“Do you need a ride to your dorm?” she asked as she typed his number on hers now.

“No. Mitch will walk with me.” Harry looked around for him, but he couldn’t spot him.

“Just get in the car, silly!” she said, getting in. Harry nodded and quietly got in.

“Why are you so nervous around me?” Y/N asked as she stopped at the first red light. Harry shook his head as he tried his best to be confident. “Are you sure? Because that’s the last thing I want.”

“I am fine,” he bit down his lip and turned to look at her. Her hair had started slipping out of her ponytail, but it didn’t matter because her facial complexity always kept her looking stunning. “Does that hurt?” Harry pointed to her scraped knee.

“Not really. The skin is just a bit sore,” she ran her hand over it.

“It was a rough knock,” he pointed out, remembering how they had kicked her off her feet.

“Here, right?” Y/N asked as she pulled up to his dorm. She had asked around, and they had told her where he lived. It had been a bit stalker-ish, but it hadn’t been with bad intentions.

“Thank you for the ride, Y/N.” She really didn’t need to do that. It was a short walk from the fields to the dorms. Although Y/N knew it was cold, and it had already gotten dark. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with her. Harry could listen to her speak for hours, yet he knew that she was a busy girl. “Could you do me a favor?” he asked as he got out of the car.

“Sure!”

“Can you please text me when you get home?”

“I—I mean if you want. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he babbled.

“I will, don’t worry,” she said just before he shut the door.

“Who was that?” one of Harry’s roommates asked as he walked into the building.

“A friend.”

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N? You are friends with her?”

“Yes. She is very nice,” he muttered before heading upstairs to finish some work, take a shower, and go to sleep. He kept checking his phone, and before he shut off the lights, his phone notified him of a text.

Hey, I just got home. I am okay. Goodnight ❤️

It was simple, but it was enough to make him smile and get his heart pumping quicker.

chapter 3

122 notes · View notes