#the way she rolls her eyes at him the way she smiles at him god they're so fucking throughout all of s7

[moonstonejpg]

i am having a rough mental health day so here’s some christmas bakugo fluff

“mina, if you sing that song one more time I swear to god I’m going to—“

“kats!” you hiss, tugging his sleeve.

he harrumphs. “what? it’s annoying me.”

kirishima laughs from the kitchen, pointing at katsuki, who is standing in front of the christmas tree with his arms crossed.

“everything annoys you.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle as you watch him. he’s wearing a santa hat (courtesy of ochako), and yet he still has his signature scowl on his face.

his eyes snap to you upon hearing your giggle, and the corners of his lips tip up in a small smile. he reaches a hesitant arm around you, plucking your now empty glass from your hand.

“do you want more?” he asks quietly, eyes soft as he gazes as you.

you nod, smiling softly at him.

he then goes into the kitchen, smacking kirishima on the side of his head as he passes him.

“i don’t know how you did it.” a voice says next to you. you turn, seeing mina leaning over the couch where you’re seated, chin resting on the backing of the couch.

“did what?”

she sighs happily, reaching out to twist one of your curls around her finger.

“katsuki’s never…well, you know how he is. i don’t think he’s ever considered that another person could love him, and then you found him. and i don’t think i can ever thank you enough for showing him that he deserves to be loved.”

“I—he means the world to me.” you say quietly.

mina grins, then lets go of your hair, standing as you turn your eyes to the blonde who was making his way back over to you. he hands you your drink before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”

you nod, heart thudding as you stand and follow him to the dining room where towers of cookie boxes are stacked, a result of a baking contest gone awry a few nights ago (izuku won, of course).

katsuki stands there for a few seconds, eyes shifting around the room nervously.

“i uh. i got you a gift.” he says quietly, avoiding eye contact as he slips a small white box from his back pocket.

you take it from him, eyeing the badly wrapped box with amusement.

“y—you got this for me?” you breathe.

he nods, a hand coming up to scratch his neck, heat flooding to his cheeks as he brings his eyes up to yours. you carefully unwrap the gift, taking the top of the box off and gasping at what lays beneath.

“katsuki, this is beautiful.” you say in awe, gently pushing back the wrapping and taking the rose gold necklace out. there was a small heart on the thin chain, and you gingerly touch it, eyes filling with tears.

“i know i’m not, like, the best at all of this stuff. but i promise i’m trying! i just—well, you deserve so much, and—“

“oh kats,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and cupping his jaw with one hand, necklace dangling in the other. “i love you so much, my sweet boy.”

a big beautiful grin splits his face, his eyes shining as he dips his forehead to rest on your own. “i love you too, my beautiful girl.”

[ellecdc]

her father's daughter

prompt from @unstablereader: Barty getting a mini Treasure but then they pull a face that's all him "nonono don't pull that face, don't pull that face. You're mum worked hard to give you such a cute face, don't ruin it. Much better."

dad!Barty Crouch Jr x mum!reader and their daughter who is very much his [666 words]

CW: kid fic, kid uses a sign for 'more', Barty being very concerned about being a dad but obviously throws his whole pussy into it, fluff

Barty never really planned on being a dad. Hells, he never really planned on being a partner, either. But then he went and fell in love - also never part of the plan - and he somehow found himself being both. 

More surprising, however? He bloody loved it. 

He loved being a husband; he loved cooking meals for his wife, he loved running you baths, he loved hearing about your day as you drew soft circles into his back as the two of you drifted off to sleep, he loved starting every day of his life with you and ending it in much the same way. He even loved fighting with you, knowing that it meant he got to grovel on his hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. He loved being wrong, he loved you being right. He loved love. He loved you. 

And then you fell pregnant; not exactly planned but not entirely prevented either. He’d been shocked, quite frankly. Terrified; who was he to be bringing a new life into the world? Didn’t the world have enough arseholes in it? Didn’t the world suffer from enough ill equipped fathers who had no business being parents raising a new generation of ill equipped fathers? Quite frankly, it was irresponsible of Barty. Selfish. Dangerous. 

But, Barty was nothing if not a selfish bastard, and it was you; his wife, his love, his treasure, his entire world. 

And if you were having a baby? Well, fuck, so was Barty. 

And you were perfect, and beautiful, and graceful, and strong, and grew new life so elegantly that gods dammit, Barty didn’t think he’d entirely mind if you fell pregnant again. 

And then he met her; your daughter. His daughter. 

Though looking at her sweet, angelic face, Barty wondered if he could take any credit for her perfection at all; she was your carbon copy. An exact replica. Your little mini me. 

Barty was in love; she was perfect. 

And then she had to go and prove that she was, indeed, her fathers daughter. 

“Sorry, my love, we can’t have any more biscuits before dinner, okay?” He responded, smacking a kiss to her pudgy cheek before making to return his attention to the stove, only to notice his sweet, beautiful, perfect child pulling a face that did not suit her at all. 

“Whoa, whoa. No, no. Don’t do that.” Barty ordered, abandoning dinner to station himself in front of his daughter's highchair to level with her. “What’s that face for, hm?” 

She held her hand out in a sign signalling ‘more’. 

“You’ve had three, baby, and dinner’s almost ready!” 

And then - his beautiful, sweet, perfect, angelic daughter - actually huffed as she crossed her arms across her little chest and rolled her eyes!

Could babies even do that?!

Clearly, seeing as his baby just did. 

“No, no; don’t pull that face. Your mum worked so hard to give you such a cute face, yeah? Don’t ruin it.” He nearly begged, pressing a finger to each corner of her mouth as he tried to pull it back up into a smile. “Come on, smile for daddy, give daddy a smile.”

His cooing (and begging) seemed to work when her face lit up, eyes bright and dimples making an appearance when she squealed and banged her hands against the table in delight. 

“There’s my girl.” He sighed in relief, tickling her and pressing another kiss to her cheek before returning to his intended task of preparing dinner. “Listen, don’t tell mum, but after dinner I’ll give you three more biscuits, okay?” 

“Don’t tell mum what now?” You asked teasingly, suddenly standing behind your daughter's highchair and startling Barty into dropping the spoon into the sauce he’d been stirring. 

“Nothing! What? Salazar’s saggy balls. Hi treasure!” He rapid fired, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline as he tried to evade your piercing and perceptive gaze. 

His daughter's eyebrows were stationed high up on her forehead, too. 

Yup, she was definitely her father’s daughter.

[earlysunshines]

under the mistletoe

kim minji x reader ; fluff

synopsis: your ex is going to be at your cousin's christmas party so you convince your super cute gorgeous amazing stupid idotic hot best friend to play girlfriend for the night--it should be fine, right? it's not like anything real will happen... right? right??

warnings: fake dating but there's like no angst bc they're too gay to be doing all that (i can't write angst idk) ; making out!!! HOORAY!!!!! ; nerd minji my lover ; they're so gay ; kinda fast paced ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread!!!

a/n: wanted to get winter themed fics out for all three before christmas but that prob won't happen LOL anyways this idea has been marinating in my head forever, enjoy!!! oh, and merry christmas!!

“i hate jake.”

minji looks away from her phone, one eyebrow raised as she watches you sink into the cushion even further. this is the third time you’ve groaned dramatically in the last five minutes. 

“…jake is your cousin.” she points out, dryly.

“and the worst person on earth.” you mutter, setting your phone down beside you. minji watches you lean over until you flop against her with a very questionable posture. “he’s forcing me to go to his stupid christmas party.”

“and this is a problem because…?”

“because,” you huff, sitting up straight again. “my ex will be there. probably just to annoy me.”

minji immediately makes a face, scrunching her nose in disgust. “ugh, gross… didn’t she dump you for ‘personal growth’ and in that same month started dating a man?”

“i fear.” you reply, crossing your arms. “her egos so big that she probably thinks i’m miserable over her. i got over her the moment i found out she was with a man! she thinks im some stupid, emotionally immature—ugh.“

minji rolls her eyes. “i can’t believe you dated her—for four months.”

“not my brightest time.”

“it baffles me,” minji begins, “i hated her, you know?”

“oh, i know.” you glance at her, failing to hide a small smile despite your frustration. “you were not subtle about it.”

“well i wasn’t trying to be,” she says flatly, setting her phone down and looking at you properly. you peel yourself off her shoulder, moving yourself over to lay flat on your back your couch with one leg over minji’s lap. “so, what’s your plan? you can’t just go and let her get under your skin.”

you let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. “i don’t know. maybe i just… won’t go.”

“that’s an option,” minji starts, poking at the gingerbread man on your pajama pants mindlessly. “but jake will never shut up if you skip.”

“i know,” you groan, running your hands further up to grip at your hair out of frustration. “what do i even do? show up alone and let her pity me? she’s going to think i’m a loser—a bigger loser than the one she already makes up in her head.”

“you could just… not show up? make an excuse?”

“jake is pretentious—he’ll know i’m bluffing.”

“send him a fake screenshot of the thermometer showing that you have a high fever?”

“no, he’ll know.”

minji sighs, tilting her head as she studies you. “so what’s your plan then? cry in the corner? accidentally spill juice on her—or even worse—on yourself and hide in the bathroom?”

“you’re so mean to me.” you huff, sitting up and leaning against the opposite side of the couch now. you stare at minji for a bit, she’s looking at you with raised brows and a curious expression that makes you sit up straighter. “oh my god, i have a plan.”

minji immediately looks suspicious. “what kind of plan?”

“it involves you.”

“absolutely not.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet!” you kick her thigh, making her push your foot away. “just listen. you play my girlfriend for the night,” you say proudly, grinning at her like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

minji blinks. “what?”

“we date—not for real—for the party.”

she stares at you for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “you’re kidding me.”

“i’m not! think about it—it’s perfect. she’ll see me with you, someone way better than her, then she’ll get off my back, and i won’t have to spend the whole night dodging her.”

minji shakes her head, though there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck. “and why would i agree to this?”

“because you love me?” you say skeptically, giving her a stupid pout and your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “please, minji. you just have to stick with me and pretend to like me and plus–you’ll get free food and drinks. please?”

minji hesitates, poking at the gingerbread man on your pants again, the same one right over your shin. you tear your leg away from her, expecting an answer. “i don’t know…” she mumbles.

“i’ll treat you to dinner.” you add, which makes minji shoot her head up.

“dinner?”

“whatever you want.” you promise.

minji sighs, letting her head fall back against the couch. “fine. but only because i can’t stand her either—and i kind of feel bad for you.”

you barely let her finish the sentence before launching yourself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug with your arms around her shoulders. you’ve pushed her down a bit, she’s holding your weight, and her senses are overwhelmed from the scent of vanilla that clouds you and the warmth radiating off of your body. 

“thank you!” you exclaim, your voice heavy with relief. 

her hands hover awkwardly in the air for a moment before resting lightly on your back. “you’re welcome?”

it’s only then that you realize how close you are—your face inches from hers, your breath brushing against her lips. you can feel her tense beneath you, her gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again. her lips part ever so slightly, and the light press of her hand on your back falters.

the air shifts, something growing heavier on you two, but before you can dwell on it too long, minji gently pushes you off with a nervous laugh.

“y-you were crushing me,” she says, her cheeks tinged pink as she sits back, putting some space between you. “are you that happy that i agreed?”

“yes,” you grin, unable to stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re the best, seriously.”

“yeah, yeah,” she mutters, reaching for a pillow and chucking it at your head. “just don’t get used to it.”

you groan when the pillow hits you, grabbing it from her hands and leaping over to get her back. you two fight each other playfully on the couch, you even knock minji’s glasses off her nose. and through the bickering, your heart skips a little when she’s trapped one of your legs between both of hers, and you’re trying to defend yourself while pushing her off—hyperaware of the proximity.

maybe playing girlfriend for a bit won’t be too bad.

-

after getting dumped months ago, the first person you turned to was minji.

she didn’t hesitate. the moment she saw your glossy eyes, she pulled you into her arms, holding you close until you calmed down. that night, she didn’t hold back her thoughts about your awful ex, and you stayed over, letting her cook you breakfast the next morning.

you’ve always been good friends, spent a good amount of time together, but somehow, after that night your friendship felt different—deeper—after that.

since then, you’ve found comfort in each other, always finding reasons to be together thrown in with superficial insults. sometimes it’s quiet—her sitting on your couch while you fold laundry and hum along to something playing on your phone, or maybe it’s you at her place while she studies. even when she hates chores, minji pitches in without complaint, and you never question why.

then there are the little outings: a walk in the park, dropping off a package, or now: grocery shopping. it’s nothing extravagant, but somehow it always feels like enough. it’s always enough with her.

you and minji are strolling through the grocery store side by side. minji holds a small basket in her hand while you grab and toss random items in with little thought. she’s squinting at a list on her phone, her lips moving slightly as she mutters the items under her breath. 

“i was thinking,” you begin, and minji looks up, quirking a brow.

“oh god.”

“you’re so mean to me.” you flick her shoulder before continuing. “if we’re going to be girlfriends, we need a solid backstory. something believable.” 

minji grabs a jar of almond butter and tosses it in the basket. “you’re overthinking this.”

“no, i’m not. what if someone asks us how we got together? we need a solid story,” you argue, “and i know jake is going to be interrogating me as soon as i introduce you—or at least curious, maybe.”

minji sighs. “fine. how about… we were hanging out, just the two of us, and suddenly we just fell in love or something. we confessed while watching a romance film, maybe?”

“wow,” you giggle, “that’s so original. super romantic.” 

“it’s simple and probably believable,” she says defensively, nudging you with her finger. 

“it’s corny.” you tease, turning and stepping into the next aisle. “how about this: we were at a concert and locked eyes and—”

“that’s even worse.” minji groans, covering her face with her hand.

“i didn’t even finish!” 

“exactly. it sounds like hyein made that up.” she snickers, “i can’t believe she’s also your cousin.”

“one cousin that probably won’t make it to the party,” you sigh in relief, “she’d blow the whole plan, knowing how we are.”

“what?” minji questions, curious as to what ‘we are’ is. before she can ask, you cut her thoughts off.

“we’ll go with your idea i guess. but we also have to spend lots of time together, more than we usually do, and we kind of just have to make it believable.”

“that’s nothing.”

“well i can’t really trust you on that, minji. you’re not the brightest.”

you two continue to bicker and poke at this whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal. as you head out to the checkout line, loading your items onto the conveyor belt, an elderly lady in front of you turns around, her eyes twinkling as she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple,” she says, her voice kind. “you compliment each other so well.”

both of you freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. you glance at minji, whose ears have turned a noticeable shade of red, and you can’t help but grin.

“uh, thank you.” minji mumbles, suddenly very interested in organizing the groceries.

you don’t correct the woman, instead leaning slightly closer to minji and whispering, “see? it’s already working.”

minji rolls her eyes and shoves you lightly with her shoulder, unable to hide her flustered expression. it’s different than her usual, calm demeanor, and you like it. it’s cute.

you laugh, nudging her back. “you’re kind of cute when you’re like that.”

“what?” minji asks, a lump forming in her throat. “you’re so… you’re so annoying.”

—

countdown: two weeks until the party

you’re doing your best not to think about having to drive almost forty-minutes south for jake’s stupid party at his stupid (-ly nice) house. instead, you’re at your usual cafe spot with hanni, danielle, and minji. the conversation is casual, filling the air, along with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

you’re mid-rant, your hands gesturing animatedly as you lean forward. “i’m just saying, if you’re going to take a lit class, at least try to understand the material. this guy skims a few pages of virginia woolf and pretends he’s a ‘feminist.’ he’s doing the absolute most to appeal to women—half that class is gay!”

“which guy was this again? there’s too many men you hate on.” hanni asks playfully, sipping on her latte.

“heeseung. oh my god,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “he’s so fake. he’ll throw out random quotes that barely connect to what we’re discussing, and the worst part? half the class buys it because he’s loud and confident. he doesn’t actually care about the themes or depth of anything. all heeseung does is show up to class, dress like some girls ‘dream man’ pinterest board, and plays pretend.”

danielle glances up with a small frown. “that’s frustrating. especially since you actually like the  material.”

“exactly!” you say, stirring your straw around for no reason at all. “and don’t even get me started on how he turns every discussion into some weird way to hit on the girls in class. like, ‘oh, you’re so insightful. you must be really in touch with your emotions.’ oh my god i can’t stand straight men. i can’t stand people who enable them.”

minji chuckles quietly into her drink. the sound draws your attention, and for some reason, when your eyes meet hers, the air between you shifts. her gaze softens slightly, her lips quirking upward in a way that makes you stare a bit.

“he probably thinks he’s all that.” minji remarks, her voice steady but her gaze soft.

you falter for half a second, your rant losing steam. it’s not just the way she’s looking at you—it’s the way your chest tightens like someone tying a knot and tugging. it’s unexpected, and the way minji smiles down at her cup makes you feel all tingly inside. that’s odd. more than odd.

“yeah, exactly.” you quickly look away, ignoring whatever is making you do a double take. “he’s so one-dimensional, self-absorbed, and i hate him.”

minji bites back another smile, trying to keep her focus on her drink instead of the way you light up when you rant. she likes the way you talk, the furrow of your brows, the passion in your tone. she knows it’s a little dangerous, this quiet admiration she can’t seem to shake, the same admiration she pushed down your first semester. she’s gotten too good at keeping it to herself to lose now, and why now anyway?

hanni nudges you with her elbow. “at least he’s giving you plenty of material for complaints. maybe you could analyze him for an essay.”

you laugh, the sound warm and genuine. 

minji’s stomach does a little flip—she wishes it wouldn’t.

“i’d seem like a fan,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’d rather focus on something—or someone—that actually matters.”

the words hang in the air for a second longer than intended, and your eyes dart back to minji’s. it’s fleeting, but there it is again—the strange flutter, like time paused just enough for something to stir.

minji looks away quickly, busying herself by looking out the window, and you clear your throat, turning your attention back to hanni and danielle.

the moment passes, but the undercurrent lingers. neither of you speak on it.

—

countdown: nine days until the party

minji’s apartment is chaos, but the adorable kind. her two-year-old nephew is currently standing on the couch, holding a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other, refusing to eat the carrot sticks minji had cut up for him.

“you’ll like it if you just try it,” minji sighs, sitting in front of him. he’s sitting on the couch, towering over her because of the level difference. it’s almost comical.

he shakes his head, lying flat on his back and ignoring her.

you lean against the kitchen counter, biting back a grin as minji sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of her nose. “you’re lucky you’re so cute,” she mutters, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of her bickering with a child. she pinches his cheek and adds, “otherwise i’d be less lenient, you troublemaker.”

“he’s kind of like you. stubborn… and cute.” you tease, muttering the last part to yourself. you pull out your phone to snap a picture, minji whirling around a moment too late after you capture the scene. 

“aw, i’ve got to make this my wallpaper.” you laugh, walking over and sitting down next to her. 

minji rolls her eyes, shoving you lightly. “is this for our ‘fake dating’ thing?”

you hadn’t thought about that; in fact, you forgot about it for a brief moment. “oh,” you begin, looking at her with a strange confusion in your heart. “well, no. i thought it was a cute… candid moment.”

“whatever.” she grumbles, but her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as she returns to negotiating with her nephew. “but send me that, please.”

…

lunchtime comes with fewer arguments, mostly because minji bribes the toddler with nuggets. the three of you end up at a cozy cafe, not too far from the one you frequent with your friends. the kid is perched in a high chair between you and minji, eating happily. 

minji is effortlessly charming, coaxing him to eat some of the carrots she brought with her and laughing at the attempts of sentences that he babbles. her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that makes your heart feel a little too full.

you snap another picture when she’s not looking—minji leaning over to wipe ketchup off the kid’s cheek, her expression soft and so full of care it marks your chest ache.

“why are you smiling like an idiot?” she asks, catching you mid-photo.

“no reason,” you lie, slipping your phone into your pocket with a small, secret grin.

…

back at minji’s apartment, the liveliness dies down and reaches something still, something quieter. her nephew gets tired from the walking that occurred after lunch, so when you’re all back home he’s tucked under minji’s arm, clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s in a crewneck and grey sweatpants with two braids resting against the pillow her head is on, loose strands fraying out. she reaches over to drape the blanket over the two of them, and you watch from the door frame as you lean on it. 

her eyes close from exhaustion, and that’s when you quietly grab the polaroid sitting on her shelf. it’s a spontaneous decision, but perfect for the moment. you turn it on, smile at the two, and press click. the flash catches you off guard, you’re afraid to wake them—but neither of them budge. 

the photo prints out slowly, and once it’s fully spewed out you shake it in your hand so it can develop. it takes a moment to develop, but once it does, the smile on your face grows and stretches from ear to ear: minji’s face is relaxed, peaceful, and her nephew eunwoo is nestled against her with a similar expression. you slide the polaroid into the back of your phone case—just because. 

as you turn to leave, minji stirs, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see you.

“stay,” she murmurs, her voice laced with sleep.

“minji,” you start, but she shifts a bit, making room for you while keeping eunwoo comfy. she pats an empty space beside her and grins tiredly.

“just for a little while,” she whispers, her eyes already closing again. “please?”

it’s the ‘please’ that does it. you hesitate only for a moment before stepping closer, your heart beating so loudly that if makes you wonder if she can hear it. climbing into the bed next to her, the mattress dips as you settle, minji instinctively drapes an arm over you, and it feels just right. the warmth of her so close is almost too much, but its perfect in a way you can’t bring yourself to think about twice.

you’ve always been fine with being touchy when it came to minji—lingering on the couch together, playful shoves, nudges, and maybe a limb or two resting on one another—but now? it’s much different. it’s easy to close your eyes and let yourself fall when she’s so close.

…

you wake up to the light outside fading, the room covered with the remnants of the sun shining through the window. minji is still beside you, her face turned toward yours, her breathing slow and even. her nephew is a small weight against her other side, pressed against her with the way her hand is angled and still clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s eyes flutter open just barely, and she looks at you like she’s still dreaming. there’s something unsaid in the way she gazes at you, something quiet and tender and a little overwhelming. 

you don’t say anything, and neither does she. but the more the silence stretches on and with each slow blink she gives you while her lips form into another small smile—you realize you don’t want the moment to end.

she’s close, warm, and comfy—that’s minji. you realize it then as the sun continues to set, as your breaths are the only sound filling the room, and as minji absentmindedly strokes her thumb against your shoulder repeatedly that you wouldn’t mind being her real girlfriend. not if it meant being this close to her whenever you wanted and getting to love her on a different level.

the thought doesn’t scare you. it doesn’t feel rushed or strange or anything too overwhelming. it just is. the thought simply lingers in the air.

she shifts slightly, her arm moving over to rest on your back before pushing you closer to her. she lets out a content sigh as a full smile takes over. your heart flutters, and you smile back, just as soft.

eunwoo stirs, a little groan wakes both you and minji up a bit more. his voice breaks the moment as he mumbles something incoherent, and you see his little hand reaching over and squishing minji’s cheek in the process, even messing her braid up a bit more. you laugh at the sight and minji turns to him, brushing his hair back gently.

“time to wake up,” she murmurs lowly. “your mom might show up soon.”

the three of you wake up slowly, with minji being the first one to rub her eyes and sit up first. before she tends to her nephew, she glances at you with a strange new feeling in her eyes and it makes you think that maybe she feels the same way. maybe she wouldn’t mind if the agreement could stretch to new years and further. maybe she wouldn’t mind if it weren’t fake.

—

countdown: five days until the party.

minji stays near your side as you navigate the packed clothing store with her, hanni, and danielle. there’s a variety of t-shirts that you stop by so you can skim through, dresses that hanni and danielle consider buying for their sisters, and assortments of accessories that you all try on together, snapping pictures to add to your favorites folder.

“this is hideous,” you mutter, holding up a sweater that resembles a traffic cone but ten times more saturated. 

“you should try it on,” minji insists with a smirk, already holding a ridiculous blazer with sequins lining it. “with this too. your ex won’t know what hit her, maybe the light will reflect off you and she’ll—”

“you think you’re so funny,” you narrow your eyes at her. “i can’t be the only one stealing the spotlight with my… hazardous outfit, can i? as my girlfriend you have to compliment me.” you grab the most outrageous pieces you can find—a neon, yellow turtleneck and pants that are somehow both plaid as they are glittery—then shove them into minji’s arms.

“so you want to play like that?” she grins, darting off to find something even worse.

hanni and danielle stand off to the side, watching the chaos unfold as you and minji start handing each other more and more ridiculous items for each other to try while giggling like middle schoolers. hanni’s shaking her head, her lips twitching into a smile. “they’re like an actual couple.”

“they really are.” danielle agrees, watching minji as she holds up a pair of fuzzy reindeer slippers and waves them at you like she’s found gold. 

“you’re going to look amazing in these,” minji says, basically cackling.

“you’re going to look even better, babe,” you retort, putting a dramatically large hat on top of her head. 

the entire store can probably hear you two laughing like idiots as you head into the dressing rooms, but neither of you care. and when you both step out, dressed head to toe in the most absurd clothing, hanni is the first to burst out laughing, immediately pulling her phone out and documenting everything. danielle hides her face behind her hands, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. 

minji steps out and winks at you. she’s clad in an oversized t-shirt that says “elf of the year” and the glitter, plaid hybrid pants you handed to her. she looks like an absolute idiot, and you figure this might be the moment you really fall for her.

“you look so stupid.” you laugh at her with an amused look on your face.

“you know,” hanni says between giggles, “if you two show up to the party like this, you’ll definitely convince everyone you’re together.”

danielle nods, her cheeks pink from laughter. “you’re already convincing enough.”

minji glances at you, her smile softening just a little. “maybe we’re overthinking the outfits,” she teases, but there’s something in her eyes that lingers longer than it should.

you shake it off. “maybe.” you say, your tone playful as you walk back into the dressing room.

“you’d still look good in that, though. you do now.” she replies, but her voice is quieter, as if she only wanted you to hear it.

instead of letting yourself get flustered, you roll your eyes and step inside the changing room, looking in the mirror to see a faint blush on your cheeks.

— 

countdown: <24 hours

you’re curled up on the couch with minji since both of you have been much more comfortable with being this close. a movie plays in the background, her arm is wrapped around you, and a blanket covers your legs that tangle together. the movie is something light and easy—your pick, though you can’t seem to focus on the plot. 

minji feels your leg tapping up and down subtly against her, notices your tongue poking at your cheek, and the way your fingers fidget with one another. she’s aware of everything, of course she is. she’s sitting close enough that you feel her shift toward you, her presence grounding but not enough to fully settle your nerves.

“you’re doing that thing again.” she says.

“what thing?” you mumble, avoiding her gaze.

“the thing where you’re silently spiraling, fidgeting,  freaking out—the latter.” she says simply, turning to look at you. “what’s on your mind?”

you sigh, pausing the tap of your leg and fidgeting and everything else. you run a hand through your hair before letting your upper body go limp against the cushion of your couch and minji’s forearm. “the party… i feel like it’s going to go bad or something. my ex, she’s… she’s so unbearable and extra! she’s only invited because she’s friends with jake’s girlfriend and ugh i don’t even know if this whole plan is going to work out because she knows you and—”

“hey,” minji cuts you off gently, and before you can protest, she reaches out and places her hand on yours. her touch is warm, her thumbs brushing over your knuckles before she boldly moves her hand over to your face now, cupping your cheek. “it’ll be fine,” she assures, and her voice is so steady that you almost believe her.

you blink, your breath catches, then shivers when you breathe out as best as you can. she’s looking at you with her pretty brown eyes through the frames that make her look like a huge nerd while simultaneously the cutest person as well and—

“minji…” you start, her name leaving your lips before your brain can process it. your stomach is doing something stupid and fluttery, the tension crackles between you like wood in a fire, keeping you two in place, pulling you closer. 

you flinch at the sound of the abrupt buzz of your phone beside you. it snaps the moment in two, making you glance away from her as reality takes over again. she pulls her hand back slowly, resting them back on your hand instead. 

she leans back and lightly mumbles, “you should get that,” her voice quieter than before.

you reach for your phone, your chest tight and your mind racing as you answer it.

it’s jake. of course it’s jake. his voice on the other end barely registers, something about ‘you’re coming, right?’ and ‘don’t bail on me!” followed by a stupid chuckle. your thoughts are still stuck on minji, and you’re wondering if the tension in the air weighed her down just as it did to you.

the call drags on, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s staring at the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the movie, but her fingers fidget with the blanket. you can tell she’s just as thrown off as you are. 

when you finally hang up, placing your phone back down beside you, minji looks over with a brow raised.

“jake,” you answer, even if she never asked anything. “he’s… yeah. just checking up on me.”

“right.” minji purses her lips.

you two sit awkwardly far from each other as the movie continues on, but eventually, you can’t take it anymore and return to your normal position. this time, your head rests on her shoulder comfortably, and your hands are intertwined. minji rubs her thumb against the back of your palm, and you think you could stay like this for hours.

–

countdown: finished!

minji parks the car and you take a deep breath in.

“relax, babe.” minji’s attempt at lightening the mood makes you smile softly. “we got this.”

“you sure?”

minji rolls her eyes, then takes your hand in hers as she does a rundown on your ‘relationship.’

“we’ve been friends for a while, i fell first but you’re the one who confessed first while we watched a romance movie—” 

you cut her off, “and?”

“and after that we’ve been glued together by the hip. i know your likes and dislikes by default, um, our first date was… by the river? bike rides…?”

“you don’t sound certain.” you tease, “but you’re right.”

“whatever. and that’s it. everything else is just… our um, friendship.” minji’s voice dies down a bit when she says ‘friendship,’ the word articulates as if it were bitter on her tongue. “now let’s go.”

you and minji are side by side, her shoulder brushing against yours as you step through the door. music and scattered conversation are heard throughout the house, and you instinctively stick close to her. jake is the first to greet you, his grin wide as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“you made it!” he beams, then his eyes dart to minji. “and this is…?”

“this is minji,” you introduce, your tone casual while your thumb begins to scratch at your skin.

“minji,” jake repeats, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. “didn’t know you were dating anyone… you know she’s here— well, never mind that. guess we need some more time to catch up, huh?”

minji laughs softly, her hand lightly grazing your arm. “it’s a recent thing, few months.” she says firmly.

“yeah, kind of a surprise for us too. it happened out of nowhere, but i’m really happy.” you add with a shrug, trying to ignore the heat spreading up your neck. jake raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further, to your surprise, and waves you both inside before giving minji a friendly side hug.

the party is more crowded than you expected, a mix of familiar faces and strangers scattered throughout the house. it’s not really a family gathering, not with the way jake’s friends have taken over the kitchen and living room. he’s always had a thing with turning events, even familial, social.

you and minji linger close, navigating through the small groups with an ease that surprises even you. every so often, while you’re greeting some mutual friends, you catch her glancing at you, a smile tugging at her lips and something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.

“when you said your cousin was inviting you to a holiday party… i expected it to be very formal and family-like.” minji murmurs as the two of you settle on the couch in the living room, plates of food balanced on your laps.

“he invites the cousins that are older and are on good terms with him.” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly. “he likes things like this. but hey, he’s fun, and he knows how to grill.”

minji laughs, nudging your leg lightly with hers. the sound is soft and warm, cutting through the background noise and settling somewhere deep in your heart. 

as the two of you eat, you find yourself leaning into her presence without thinking. her knee bumps against yours and neither of you moves away. 

“i’ll grab us some more soda,” you say after a while, setting your empty plate on the table and standing.

“don’t get lost,” she teases, her smile lingering as you head toward the kitchen. 

you glance back once, catching the way she watches you leave. it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make you feel like she really adores you.

…

cold air hits your face as you dig past cans of beer and bottles of wine while you shuffle through the fridge. you finally spot the sodas in the back and grab two coke zero’s, but the condensation already makes your hands feel slick and damp. as you shut the door, you hear someone clear their throat.

turning, you come face to face with her. it’s like being hit with a wave you didn’t see coming, but at the same time you were preparing for it. now that it hits you, it’s really chilling. her hair is a little different, her smile just as sharp, and she seems as pretentious as before. you’re surprisingly able to stay calm.

“hey,” you greet sweetly, forcing a casualness into your voice that you don’t feel.

she tilts her head, a little smirk forming. “hey, it’s been a while.” 

“it has,” you reply, gripping the sodas just a little tighter.

before the conversation can turn into something messier, a guy steps up beside her. tall, charming, and really just a face that resembles all the guys that she would compliment while you two were dating. “this is yeonjun, my boyfriend.” she says, her words are slow and deliberate like shes shoved a nail into your skin and twisted it.

you smile tightly, nodding at him. “nice to meet you, i’m an old friend of hers.” 

the air is heavy, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to falter. your hands are damp now, the condensation dripping from the cokes, and you’re wondering how to get out of this.

someone answers your prayers. a warm hand settles on your waist, grounding you instantly when the familiar warmth is recognized. then, soft lips press to your temple. your heart stutters in surprise and your brain malfunctions momentarily. you turn your head slightly, catching the familiar scent of minji’s floral perfume before you can even see her.

“hey, love,” love? that’s a new one, but you can’t say that you hate it—especially when it comes out so naturally from minji. 

she reaches over to take one of the sodas from your hand and when you glance back over to your ex—it looks like someone just slapped her. “minji?”

minji smiles politely,  her hand still resting at your waist, tugging at your waistband not so subtly. “yeah, nice to see you again. i was wondering what was taking y/n so long, i was getting thirsty.” she gives you a soft glance as she chuckles. 

you manage to recover quickly, leaning into her touch. her presence fuels your words, “i was just catching up,” you explain, gesturing toward your ex. “oh, right—you remember minji, don’t you?” you pause for just the right amount of time before looking at her lovingly, adding, “she’s my girlfriend now.”

your ex blinks, surprise evident in her expression. “oh. wow. i didn’t know… you two were—”

“yeah,” you interrupt, turning toward minji with a grin you don’t have to fake. you can’t remember the last time you faked anything with her, really. “she’s amazing. i’m glad we’re together, she’s lovely.”

minji rolls her eyes before moving her hand up to your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “you’re doing that thing again.”

“what?” you question.

“being so fond,” she twirls a piece of your hair with her finger, “you’re too sweet to me.”

“because you’re my girlfriend, idiot.” you giggle right after that, and minji follows. “i’m not lying when i say all those things.” 

minji smiles at you, something mellow and real in her eyes. you can tell she knows exactly what you’re thinking. her hand moves over to cup your cheek briefly before she uses it to open her can of soda. she glances back up at the pair in front of you, your ex and yeonjun, giving them an intimidating glare—directly mainly to your ex. 

“we should get back, jake was asking about you.”

“was he? i guess we should…” you say, glancing at your ex one last time, her expression unreadable now. “it was nice seeing you again.”

minji steers you away, her presence steady and comforting as she leads you with her hand returning to your waist. you don’t miss the way your ex’s gaze lingers on the two of you, but that doesn’t cross your mind anymore. not when minji’s here, leaving you flustered and happier than you’ve ever been.

—

the living room is filled with laughter and conversation when you and minji step back inside. your cheeks are still warm from the cold air outside—or maybe from the conversation you just had, both of you had been reminiscing on how harsh minjis nephew eunwoo can be towards minji. her laugh lingers in your mind, and for a moment you almost forget where you are.

“there you two are!” jake’s voice cuts through the noise, and everyone turns toward you and minji as he gestures for you to join the group. “you’re just in time!”

but then you notice it—the small branch of green hanging above your heads: the mistletoe.

jake grins, wide and mischievous as if this were part of his plan. “looks like you two are under the mistletoe~” jake points out as if he’s a child.

the room quiets, and suddenly, every pair of eyes is on you and minji. your shoulders stiffen and minji’s hand brushes against yours.

you glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, her face flushed but calm. you’d stare for a moment longer, maybe tease her for how cute she looks, but you’re in the spotlight now. there’s something steady in her eyes, like she’s silently saying, it’s okay.

someone whistles, and the teasing murmers start, but they fade into the background when minji tilts her head slightly toward you, her voice low and gentle. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you shake your head, a small smile forming. “it’s fine,” you whisper back, “it’s just a kiss, right?”

she nods, her expression mirroring yours—reassuring, gentle, and maybe just a little nervous.

and then, without overthinking it, you both lean in. the kiss isn’t hurried or awkward—it’s soft and lingering, not too much but far from a quick peck. your hand brushes against her neck, and for a moment, everything kind of blurs except her.

when you pull back, the room erupts into cheers and coos of “aww,” but you barely hear them. your eyes are still locked on minji’s, her cheeks a shade of pink that you will definitely comment on later.

before you can process anything, her hand comes up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. she leans in again, this time pressing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. it’s a kiss that’s not influenced by the branch above you, a natural, instinctive kiss that makes your heart stop beating for a bit.

you both pull away, a silent realization settling between you. something’s changed. something you can’t quite name but can sense in her dilated pupils, slight bite of her lip, and bright smile.

“okay, okay, lovebirds. sorry about my cousin and her girlfriend,” jake jokes with a laugh, breaking the moment and taking all the attention off you two. “i just wanted to thank you all for coming.”

his words don’t process, in fact, you don’t really hear much of it because minji’s fingesr slip between yours, warm and steady. as jake continues talking, you glance down at your joined hands and then back at her. 

you squeeze her hands lightly. the feeling is new, but it feels like it’s always been there. it feels good, it feels right.

…

once jake’s speech ends, you catch minji’s eye. there’s longing in her look, she’s asking a silent question and you have the answer. without a word, you grab her hand, weaving through the guests and slipping up the stairs unnoticed—they don’t know your cousin’s hosue like you do.

the hallway is dim, shadows playing on the walls as you pull her to a stop. before she can say anything, you turn, your hands finding her cheeks, and kiss her.

it’s different this time—no crowd and no stupid mistletoe hanging above. it’s just you two. you, and minji, with her lips are pressing against yours softly. she tastes sweet, warm, and familiar, and the way her hands rest under your jawline sends a shiver down your spine.

you pull her closer, hands moving down and pulling at the fabric of her shirt like you’re trying to stop yourself from losing your balance. her lips move against yours in harmony, in sync, and nothing else in the world matters except the two of you in that moment. 

when you two finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily—from kissing so much and from utter shock. minji’s eyes search for yours in the darkness, her lips parting slightly as she catches her breath. “come on,” she murmurs, tugging your hand gently.

she pulls you into a nearby room, and you barely manage to glance around before realizing who’s room it is.

“minji,” you whisper, stifling a laugh, “this is jake’s room.” 

“i could care less,” she cuts you off with another kiss. her lips are insistent, and her hands find your waist again, drawing you closer. “when i kiss you, i just— i can’t help but want to kiss you more and more and more and more.”

her confession is punctuated by kisses–soft, desperate, and consuming. you melt into her, your hands threading through her hair as you let her guide you toward the bed.

she’s nearly on top of you, her legs on either side of yours with he lips trailing to your jaw, then back to your lips. 

“i want to be your real girlfriend,” she whispers nervously. “i want to kiss you like this, be with you, everything.”

you pause, cupping her face in your hands as you pull back just enough to meet her eyes. she looks at you, eyes lidded and vulnerable. your heart swells.

“i want to be your real girlfriend too,” you confess, using your thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “i think this is the best present i’ll ever get.”

she giggles before closing the distance again—instant, radiant, eager— and you can feel her smiling against your lips. 

“should i put a bow on myself and lay under the tree?” she says when she pulls back, but just enough so your lips ghost each other. “to seal the deal.”

“you’re impossible.” you laugh, digging your fingers deeper into her scalp before pecking her quickly. “we should take this to the car… jake will kill me.”

“i think we can settle for a few more kisses.”

“is there a mistletoe constantly hovering over you?”

“no…” minji mutters, “but maybe we could steal the mistletoe and make it happen.”

you roll your eyes at her, but regardless you close the distance once more. and just when you think she can’t be more of an idiot—she proves you wrong.

“and you still owe me dinner, by the way.”

“whatever,” you mumble in adoration, “it’s a date.”

[luvs4matt]

I’m not trying to rush u, but when is soaked part 5 gonna happen 😭 I dying to what happened next

𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓 ✿ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

“oh baby.. is daddy makin’ your mind all fuzzy? huh?”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - dilf!matt x subby!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which, when matt witnesses reader letting someone flirt with her, he has no choice but to remind her who she belongs to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - SMUT 18+, daddy kink, sir kink, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cow girl, praise, breeding, size kink, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girls, sweet girl, angel, babe, bunny)

𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 vulnerable, all by yourself. you find your way to your feet, running out of the bedroom. thank god lilly wasn’t home, because if she was, if she walked out of her bedroom, she would see you completely naked running around.

you finally found matt in the kitchen; you ran up to him and dug your face into his shoulder “matty.. m’sorry” tears start to well in your eyes, why would he leave you there like that? “yeah? y’gonna stop bein’ bad an’ lying, sayin’ that i’m mean when i have been so much nicer than i should’ve been after how you acted”

you nod “yes sir, i promise” he chuckles “you promise, huh?” you hummed as you nodded “well, then we should get my sweet girl out of the handcuffs, yeah?” you nodded again “please.. they are starting to hurt..” before he left the bedroom, he had put on a pair of sweatpants, and brought the key with him.

he turned you around as he grabbed the key from his pocket “there you go baby”

“thank you” he grabbed your waist “you wanna take your plug out too princess?”

“yes” he nodded “okay, just bend over the counter, alright?” you did just as he said, bending over the counter. you winced as he pulled it out “i know it hurts baby, m’sorry” he hugged you from behind before leaving kisses down your neck “need you matty..” he smirks “yeah?”

“mhm” you grind yourself back onto him “you think i teased you enough already tonight? hm?”

“yes sir” he turns you back around, placing his lips on yours. you were desperate, you tried to deepen the kiss but he pulled away “no baby, be patient. try it again and i’ll put you back in your cuffs”

“m’sorry” he kissed you again, this time, you moved at his pace. he lifted you onto the counter, never separating your lips. you gasp as you feel his fingers slowly trace up your thigh, he smiled “mm.. so sensitive” you let out a quiet whine, desperate for more attention.

“don’t worry princess, daddy’ll touch you soon, okay?” you nodded “okay.. just please don’t make it too long” he chuckles at your neediness “i won’t baby.. i won’t” he smiles as he kisses you.

he lifts you from the counter, bringing you to the couch. he sits you on top of him, allowing you to be on his lap “gon’ ride me honey?” you hummed “c’mon.. we’ve been working so hard on using our words, use ‘em” you rolled your hips against his bulge “yes sir, m’gonna ride you”

“good girl” you whimpered as you continued grinding on him “take my pants off sweet girl” you did as he said before getting back on top of him “can i now daddy?”

“go ahead angel” you line up your hole with his tip, he holds your waist as you sink down onto him. you struggled, his dick already so deep inside. it feels deeper with you being on top “need help babe?”

“yes.. please help me.. so deep..” he pushes you down until you have taken him all “see, you can do it” you sat there for a minute, in his arms, letting yourself get used to his size. no matter how many times you have sex, you’ve never got used to his size.

matt uses the grip on your waist to roll your hips, the sudden movements making you whimper “f- feels good..” he removes one hand from your waist, using it to hold your face “yeah?” you start to move yourself, bouncing on his cock.

you forgot all pain you were experiencing when he brought your face to his, your lips colliding together “just the prettiest little lips” he mumbled against you. you whined as he deepened the kiss.

you gasp as he suddenly starts thrusting up into you, you moan as he hits all of your spots “my good girl.. taking it so well” he bites his lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure “always- fuck- always take my dick like a fuckin’ champ, don’t you princess?”

you can’t comprehend what he is saying, you just know that you feel so good “oh baby..” his voice was laced with faux sympathy “is daddy makin’ your mind all fuzzy? huh?” your eyes rolled back. matt was right, your mind is all fuzzy, but you didn’t know he was right, you had no idea what he just said.

he brought you back into reality with a few taps on your cheek “i- huh?” he smiled “you’re so adorable.. you can’t even think straight” you couldn’t form a sentence, the pleasure was just so overwhelming “cum?” he wasn’t going to make you work for it this time “cum baby”

a loud moan erupted from your throat as you came around his cock hard “daddy’s close honey, it’s almost over” you whined in overstimulation “squeezin’ me so tight” he groaned.

as he was building his orgasm, he was also building your second one. “gonna cum with me sweetheart?” you frantically nodded.

he thrusted a few more times before he shot his load into you, triggering your orgasm “daddy!” he rides out your highs before you cradle yourself into him, allowing him to hold you, running his hands up and down your back “good bunny.. good bunny”

© luvs4matt

a/n - a little christmas present for you guys 💋💋

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content, incest, satoru/reader, satoru/suguru, shoko/reader, codependency, very twisted relationship dynamics, implied abusive/neglectful childhood

suguru had never known what to make of the two of you.

satoru the six eyes and his twin sister. satoru who was his best friend, and you, the girl who looks just like him.

satoru who let suguru bend him over and fuck him until he cried, only to roll off the bed, pulling out his phone.

god. he knew satoru was a dick, but this?

it hurts more than it should. they'd never talked about it, never even called each other friends. he should have figured this wasn't anything special.

but what the fuck is satoru doing on his phone?

"satoru?" he says, trying to sound casual.

everything has to be casual with satoru. low-key. being with him feels like he's coaxing a wild animal. get too close, and he might just bolt.

bolt, only to hit him out of the blue days later with a picture of a candy and a smarmy comment about suguru's taste in food. or his hair. or his power as a sorcerer, or whatever was going through that malfunctioning brain of his.

god, why the fuck does he even like him again?

satoru turns back so suguru can see his smirking face.

god. that was why. the face of a fucking angel, a smile that made his heart skip. why did it have to be on this asshole?

"what, suguru? you feelin' lonely?" satoru drawls.

it's a question he knows the answer to. keep it chill. don't show your hand. don't get too close or he'll get scared.

it aches. "shut up," he says, "i'm just curious who you're texting right after i pulled my dick out of you."

he smirks back when satoru pauses, hesitates.

"who's this person you're thinking about right after you cum?" suguru drawls. he's proud of how distant he manages to sound.

satoru's eyes dart towards him, all ice blue and piercing.

"nobody," he says, setting his phone face down while he pulls on his pants.

he blinks. "what are you..."

satoru ignores his question, strolling out towards the door while waving goodbye. "later, su-gu-ru~"

"but this is -"

before his eyes can furrow, satoru closes the door behind him.

"...your room."

he'd thought that it meant something different this time. satoru always left right after they fucked, he never stayed.

but this is satoru's room. so he'd either kick suguru out, or let him stay.

he hadn't been prepared for him to just... leave. his own room.

what's wrong with him? seriously.

suguru glances at the downturned phone. flips it over.

nee-chan~ (2)

his sister? it beeps.

nee-chan~ (3)

no, don't. i'll ask shoko

you'll ask shoko to do what? satoru has a lock, so he can't see.

seriously, i mean it

after a moment, there's another message.

are you ignoring me, or just busy with him?

don't come over. slut

...what?

the message notification disappears along with the message.

suguru gets a strange feeling.

he looks around satoru's room. he finds some girl's clothes.

does satoru even like girls? they could be yours. he's seen you in his room before.

the strange feeling starts to get. stranger.

there's condoms in here, too, which is weird because satoru has never asked him to use them. or used them himself. he whined when suguru suggested it, actually. asked if he was scared of getting knocked up.

ugh. stupid, insufferable, endearing little shit. he wants to have him in his arms right now.

but it doesn't mater what suguru wants. satoru just left. like he always does, sooner or later.

picking up the phone, he makes his way out. down the hall, towards the girls' dorm.

shoko is already there when he gets there. holding out an arm to stop him.

he raises a brow.

"she's sleeping."

"how do you know i'm here for her?"

shoko shrugs. "why else would you be? saw gojo go in there. anyways, they're asleep now."

"can't be. i was with him just a few minutes ago."

the look she gives him is... strange. everything about this situation feels... off.

he pushes past her, and she sighs.

there's no noise inside, at least. he looses a curse to twist the lock on the door, turn it form the inside.

and it's surprising because - god, what was he expecting?

you're there, curled up beneath the blanket with satoru laying behind you, arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

it's romantic, sure. intimate.

but nothing weird. well, nothing too weird. satoru's always been weird, and you're just like him, so of course you're both weird together. you've always been close. you're his twin sister. what is he thinking?

with a toss, he lets satoru's phone fall onto the floor.

he avoids shoko's gaze as he closes the door and stalks off.

(he doesn't see her anxious glance at the door.)

"he's gone," satoru whispers to you, brushing his thumb over your nipple as you bite your lip.

"shut up," you hiss, putting a hand over his. "i can't believe you did that. why did he follow you? what did you say to him?"

his other hand, threaded beneath your panties, wriggles playfully.

"whaaat? you said you wanted to go to bed. i didn't want to make you wait." he sighs dramatically, "i'm the strongest sorcerer, you know. i need my rest~"

and without you, there is no rest.

as soon as your body is against his, it's like all the tension leaves him. you're there, with him, and everything is all right.

all his worries fade away when he can wrap his arms around you and feel you embrace him in return. mind blank at the soothing sound of your voice. never mind the words you're saying.

"yeah, but do you need to do... this." you say fruitlessly. "you could have come later."

"didn't wanna come later," he kisses your shoulder, "wanted to see you now."

you wriggle in his arms, too wide and too strong to escape, even if you wanted to.

it's enraging. it's gratifying. you don't know what it is, and never have.

he must have been fucking suguru. and after he got his, he came to you.

should you laugh, or cry?

"i could have asked shoko." you mumble almost miserably.

but a sigh escapes you as he fondles your breast. satoru always knows how to make you feel good.

maybe not as good as shoko does, but you're still nice enough not to say that to his face.

"what? to sleep with you?" satoru scoffs, "you can't sleep without me, either."

neither of you have ever slept alone, not a single night in your life.

not even when you were deathly ill and the clan begged the precious six eyes to stay away and not catch your sickness.

satoru had stayed by your side the entire while. held your hand while your head pounded and your body ached. wiped your tears when you cried.

because you were very young, and very sick, in more pain than you'd ever felt before. you had honestly thought you were going to die.

there had been no servants, no mother or father or caretaker. only satoru holding you close, lifting you to drink some water and medicine. telling you that you couldn't die. he wouldn't allow it.

and to your child's mind, that had been reassuring. your brother never left you. your fever broke and you were okay, just like he said you would be.

now, you know better. now you know satoru would lay in bed with people who weren't you, even if he always came back (for now).

now you knew what it was like to have someone else by your side.

(but was it enough? could it ever be enough? could it ever be what you have with him?)

"i'll never know until i try." you turn in his arms to face him, and he allows it.

blue eyes. beautiful, beautiful blue. a pretty face. almost as pretty as shoko's.

you've been learning, lately. you used to think of the mole on her cheek as an imperfection, the cigarette smoke a bad habit.

now? you still think it's a bad habit, but the mole is charming. and you don't hate the smell as much because shoko took you out shopping for perfume.

she asked you which one you liked the most, and bought it for herself. she wears it every friday when you have your girls night out with utahime.

where you get drunk enough to make out with her until she brings you back to the dorm, kissing and fondling and touching.

she asks you if it's okay. asks you how you like it best. asks you to touch her this way, that way.

it's not like how it is with satoru. but she makes you feel good, makes you happy. she wants you to feel good. when you cry she kisses your tears away, like she knows better than to ask but wants to comfort you anyways.

when was the last time satoru tried to comfort you?

"hey," satoru breathes into your ear, pulling your panties down, "c'mon."

when you think of her, your heart flutters. when you think of satoru, your stomach flips, and your whole body aches.

you don't know what love is. you don't think satoru does, either.

otherwise, why would he ever leave geto's arms? when he's so obviously head over heels for him?

you clasp one arm against his chest as you reach down, stroking his cock to hardness. geto must have made him cum (satoru has never made you cum). must have fucked him.

satoru rolls you so you're on top of him.

his shirt is off, baring his lean, muscled chest. your brother, your strong, handsome, beautiful brother, looking up at you with wandering eyes and greedy hands.

your hands are equally greedy. running over his chest, ghosting over his nipples until he shivers. oversensitive. he always is after he's been with geto.

satoru's got a condom out already. he slips it on, leaning forward and pinning you down beneath him.

he doesn't have to use condoms with geto. he doesn't have to be the one on top all the time, either. geto can fuck him. he must like that.

geto's a special grade sorcerer. geto's a man. he's not his sister.

his cock is sliding up and down against your entrance, wetting the condom as he nips at your breast.

he always leaves marks like this, but never where anyone can see.

does he leave marks on geto?

"do you like him more?" you mumble, anxiety swirling in your gut. your lower half is a hot swirling pool of need, leaking for him.

and he inches in, making you whine, making you claw marks into his shoulder. you hope geto sees them.

satoru groans, low and throaty. it always feels like coming home when he's inside you. a perfectly matched lock and key.

his hand threads through your hair. you're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. he'll admit he's a vain bitch, but who wouldn't be? looking like the two of you do.

maybe one day he should get you to dress up like him. wear a strap and fuck him, that'd be fun.

for now, you're warm and soft and perfect for him. so comfortable. and you're rambling about stuff that isn't important.

"what," he murmurs, breathy from the warmth of you around him, "who?"

if the frustration shows on your face, he can just fuck it away.

"geto." the name is swallowed by a swift thrust, hands planted on your hips.

you wish he'd touch your clit more (you never ask). you wish he'd answer your question (you're afraid to push). but your brother just doesn't think about other people.

"c'mon," he whines, "don't talk about some other dude. you're with me."

"you were with him."

"so?" he thrusts in harder, stealing your breath, like that'll win him the argument, "you're fucking shoko."

satoru fucks you breathless, then. pumping in and out so quickly that the friction has you shuddering, shivering, close enough that you finally start to squeeze around him.

it's always like this with him. you feel like you're drowning, helpless. all you can do is cling to him.

"satoru," you hate how pitiful your voice sounds, "satoruuuu...."

he's hitting you, so deep and so hard it hurts, pierces through the breathless haze and leaves you clenching around him.

"please," your breath escapes you with his next thrust.

please don't leave me. don't abandon me for him. don't discard me now that you have someone better. don't leave me all by myself...

tears dot at your eyes, squeezing around him. satoru's own eyes are wide and wild, his hips shoving into you staggeringly fast.

"i got you," he says, close, so close, "i've got you."

another deep thrust, painful as it is pleasurable, bruising and fast like his fingertips on your hips. he swallows your moans with a kiss.

he thinks he can eat up all your complaints, all your anxiety. hide away from his own by nestling himself in your body.

you don't want anyone but him, right? he's the only one who touches you like this.

the way you squeeze around him, the way your body feels against his, no one else gets that from you. shoko couldn't do this for you. no one could.

you say his name again and he's ready to burst. you love him always. you're so good for him. you make him feel good just by being there.

a part of his life. a missing limb. his precious sister, his beating heart, right there against his chest.

"there," satoru pants, "fuck, there, cum for me, baby..."

it's tears you blink away when he gasps and cums, burying himself inside you with a wounded sort of whimper.

you never do, when it's him. to be fair, you've never done it to yourself, either.

you only ever came when shoko fucked you. but fucked is such an ugly word for how gently she touched you, how soft she smiled.

"satoru," you whine again, "do you like him more than me? i like you more than shoko..."

satoru doesn't answer you. his hands move from your bruised hips to wrap around you, pull you close, plant kisses on your head.

"you know," he mumbles out your name. "you know."

there's a flash of rage. irrational.

he won't say it. he won't even say it. satoru will fuck you, his own sister. cling to you like he needs you to survive, sleep with you every night of his life.

but he won't say he loves you more than geto. he won't even say he likes you.

and you know - because you know him like the back of your hand, you were born with him, you spent every waking moment of your life with him until you came to the school - you know satoru loves you.

but he loves you like he loves air. it's always there. always accessible. it's not like the air will suddenly leave.

you curl into satoru's muscled chest, let him embrace you closer, sink into the silence that's only comfortable for him.

maybe there's something you can do about this.

[crushpunky]

a cameron family vacation: exploring the city

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Y/n woke up to a weight pressing down on her back, pressing her stomach deeper into the mattress. With a groan, she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and lifted her head up, trying her best to turn over onto her back despite being pinned under the weight. As she turned, she was greeted with the ruffled hair of Rafe, his face lifting to meet her with a groggy smile.

“Get off of me.” Y/n scoffed, pushing Rafe’s face away from hers playfully. He tried to fight her, but as her hands continued to smush his face, he eventually succumbed and rolled onto his side with a laugh.

“Rude.” Rafe groaned, pushing himself up to rest against the headboard. He was still wearing his shorts from the night before, his sweatshirt ditched sometime throughout the night leaving him in a white t-shirt.

“What was rude was immediately falling asleep and taking up the entire bed, boy.” Y/n said with a quirk of her brow. Rafe shook his head, running a hand through his bedhead with a chuckle.

“Would you have rather slept with Sarah or Wheezie?” Rafe pointed out.

“Hmm, maybe John B.” Y/n teased, causing Rafe’s face to immediately fall in a way that made y/n smirk.

“Don’t joke about that.” Rafe muttered, grabbing his pillow and tossing it in her face before climbing out of the bed. He reached down, quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the corner before beginning to dig through his luggage. Y/n found herself watching, her eyes trailing along the freckles that adorned his back and the mess of golden hair that rested on the nape of his neck.

“Wake up! Wake up!” A sudden bang on the door caused y/n to jump, Rafe seemingly unphased as he continued digging through his luggage. The source of the voice was revealed as the door slid open, revealing Sarah, already dressed and ready for the day, an excited smile on her face.

“Oh my god, y/n, there is this coffee place down the street that we have to go to.” Sarah rambled, inviting herself into the room and plopping down on the bed. Rafe glared at her, finally grabbing some clothes from his luggage before shoving the mess back into his suitcase.

“Thank god, I need some coffee. Barely got any sleep because of this one.” Y/n pointed at Rafe, who just shrugged. Sarah’s eyes widened, her gaze darting between the two of you with a questioning glare. Rafe rolled his eyes, before making his way into the bathroom.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled, closing the door behind him.

“You’re worse than Ward and Rose.” Y/n rolled her eyes, climbing out of bed and padding across the floor. With a yawn, she picked out an outfit for the day.

“Ah, that’s what that was about.” Sarah raised her eyebrows teasingly, leaning back to rest on her elbows, referring to the odd encounter between y/n, Rafe, and Ward when they had attempted to enter the hotel last night. Y/n shook her head at the memory, tugging on a pair of linen shorts and beginning to smooth her bed head into something manageable. The room fell into a sort of silence, the only noise the quiet lull of the shower and the street outside.

“Look, I hate my brother as much as anyone else, but you can’t deny that there’s something there.” Sarah smiled innocently. Y/n knew Sarah had suspicions about her more than just friendly feelings towards Rafe. Y/n didn’t have to tell her, nor could she ever tell her, there was a sort of unspoken agreement between them to not say anything about it in fear of making it into something bigger than it really was: y/n had feelings for Rafe, he didn’t reciprocate, and over the years she had come to terms with that reality.

“He doesn’t see me like that Sarah.” Y/n sighed, plopping down on the bed next to Sarah. Sarah frowned slightly, brushing a bit of hair out of y/n’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n. My brother’s an idiot.” Sarah whispered, patting y/n’s cheek lightly.

“Ouch.” Rafe’s voice caused the two girls to whip their heads around. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, his wet hair dripping onto a fresh button down and shorts.

“Finally. Let’s go.” Sarah rolled her eyes, hopping off the bed. She turned to y/n, offering her hand out before pulling y/n to her feet and out the door.

“You better not be planning on stealing my best friend this whole trip.” Rafe grumbled.

“Don’t be a grump, boy.” Y/n teased, grabbing Rafe’s hand and tugging him out the door with them. Despite the faux-serious demeanor Rafe couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

The walk from the hotel to the coffee shop was much longer than Sarah had let on, y/n regretting the flimsy sandals she had put on as they continued to trudge down the cobbled streets of Italy. Sarah and John B walked a measured distance in front of them, laughing and holding hands, only occasionally turning around when they came to a fork in the road.

“Why did we let her navigate again?” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. Y/n laughed, glancing at the various stores and stands that lined the streets. Her eyes caught a small flower stand, lingering long enough for her pace to slow down. Rafe, who had been walking in stride with her for the entirety of the journey thus far, immediately noticed the sparkle in her eye and reached for his wallet.

“What’re you—” Y/n asked as Rafe cut in front of her, a smirk on his face as he walked over to the flower stand. Y/n’s quickly looked up to where Sarah and John B were, who had, much to her surprise, stopped for them. They waved, gesturing to the storefront of what just so happened to be the cafe they had walked all this way for.

“Yeah, yeah, ciao,” Rafe said to the man at the flower stand. Y/n turned back to him, the same smirk on his face but this time, a stunning bouquet of purple and blue flowers adorned with a bit of twine.

“Here. Consider it an apology for your lack of sleep.” Rafe said simply, handing the flowers to her before continuing down the street as if nothing had happened.

“Thanks, boy.” Y/n laughed, hurrying to keep up with him. Once she had caught up, she grabbed Rafe’s bicep, giving it a light squeeze before they ended up in the cafe.

“We thought you guys— oh my god! Those are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” Sarah said as y/n and Rafe joined them in line, hitting John B’s arm to tear his attention away from the elegantly arranged pastry case.

“Well, Rafe got them from the stand just down the street,” Y/n grinned, peering up at Rafe, who was already looking down at her with a grin.

“We’ll have to stop there on the way back.” John B said, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced over at Sarah.

“You’ve got enough cash?” Rafe said slyly, a challenging smirk on his face. Y/n elbowed his side lightly, turning her attention from the boy to the pastries in front of them.

“Just when I was about to say you weren’t being a total asshole this morning.” Sarah rolled her eyes before walking up to the counter to place her order. John B followed before y/n stepped to the counter.

“Can I get a croissant and a small, iced, vanilla—” Y/n started, pointing to one of the fluffy croissants in the pastry case.

“She’ll get a large, iced, vanilla latte, hm? I’ll get just a small coffee and another croissant.” Rafe said, sparing a glance down at her as he rattled off her usual order with ease before quickly swiping his card. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Rafe grabbed their orders, handing hers to her before the two of them made their way out to the patio where Sarah and John B sat. Rafe pulled out y/n’s chair before sliding into the seat next to her, taking a sip of his coffee as everyone began digging into their pastries.

“So, I was thinking we could go down to the beach later, maybe do some sight seeing? There’s a bunch of museums and churches and…” Sarah rattled off, but y/n found her focus wandering out to the expansive waters of the ocean. Cliffs jutted out into the water, their bright orange a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the water.

“It’s no Kildare.” Rafe said, raising his eyebrows teasingly as Sarah and John B continued to talk about the plans for the week.

“I forgot I was talking to world traveller Rafe Cameron who thinks the Outer Banks are ‘Paradise on Earth’.” Y/n giggled, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Nowhere else has the same memories though.” Rafe pointed out, gesturing with his croissant.

“Who knew you were such a sentimental young man?” Y/n shook her head.

“I think you’ll find that I’m very much full of surprises this vacation.” Rafe said, resting his arm on the back of y/n’s chair.

“Is that so?” Y/n quirked her brow, to which Rafe simply nodded, a sly grin on his face.

[papaya-twinks]

glad to be of service - l.n

Warnings: None!

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N meet at Max and Kelly’s wedding.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as your friend walked out from her room, the white wedding dress flowing round her figure, emphasising her curves in all the right places, her hair tied in the intricate bun, waves falling in front of her eyes.

“Girl, you look gorgeous,” you gasped, your own pretty blue dress hugging your body, and damn did you look good. “Says you,” she said, a pink tinge coating her cheeks as you smiled, watching her do a twirl for you.

“God…can’t believe the day’s finally come,” she said, hugging you as you smiled. “Max is gonna love you so much, Kelly,” you smiled, squeezing her hand as she nodded. “This is why you’re my maid of honour,” she smiled.

Lando had to admit, he hadn’t quite expected Max to ask him to be his groomsman, let alone his best man for his friend, but who was he to decline, right? Besides, he looked great in a suit, the rings tucked safely into his pockets.

He watched as his friend joined him at the altar, the bridesmaids filing in silently as Lando looked round. They were all pretty on blue dresses, their hair in intricate updos, all of them holding bouquets of flowers.

But there was one - one girl who caught his eyes. She must have been the maid of honour, with the size of her bouquet, a smile on her face as she looked round the guests. “Y/N, you need to get the ring from the best man,” one bridesmaid said.

“Hm? Oh shit, yeah,” you said, looking over to the groomsmen. Your cheeks finger slightly pink as you found one of them staring at you - quite a cute guy actually, with brunette curls, dressed in a suit, his own cheeks going red.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly, “are you the best man?”. Lando nodded, not sure he’d be able to form a sentence without stuttering or messing up. “Oh. Great,” you said, “d’you have the ring?” you asked, mimicking a ring on your finger as he nodded.

“Here,” he said, mentally hitting himself for thinking you’d just wanted to talk to him. You nodded, pushing down the feelings that were threatening to form inside of your heart, the ring clutched behind your back.

And so the ceremony begun, the priest reading out the prayers as you held the flowers for your best friend, your eyes occasionally flitting to the best man, sometimes his eyes meeting yours, your cheeks flushing every time.

“Uh, Y/N,” Kelly hissed, looking over her shoulder as she looked at the ring you’d handed her, the silver band with a large diamond on the front. Shit. You hadn’t actually checked what ring Lando had given you…and you’d given Kelly her own ring.

“Oh, uh,” Lando stepped forward, grabbing the rings and quickly switching them, taking some of the embarrassment from you as he stood back, sending you an apologetic look as you rolled your eyes, a small smile on your lips.

This guy was goofy. Crazy goofy, but not in a bad way. Yeah, sure, he’d kinda messed up the rings for his best mate’s wedding, but hey, everyone made mistakes. And it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? It was a ring that he may have… misplaced.

Anyways, Lando wasn’t able to catch you after the ceremony, pushed into one side of the room with Max and the groomsmen as they all teased and laughed at him for messing it up as the girls questioned you.

“I don’t know!” you whined, “I just took it from that best man dude, I didn’t know they were wrong,” you protested as they all rolled their eyes, tsking and tutting. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at him- hey!” one of the girls snickered.

You huffed, hitting her on the shoulder as you filed into the large hall, watching Max and Kelly dance. You sighed with the girls, all gossiping about how cute they looked and stuff, but Lando? He was busy navigating through the crowd to get to you.

“Hi,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder as you turned, seeing him standing there nervously. “Hey,” you said, eyebrow raised. “Look, I just wanted to say sorry about the whole ring thing, I should’ve checked which one I gave,”.

“It’s fine,” you smiled, your initial reaction melting into a small smile, “it’s not a huge deal,”. He nodded slowly, before he looked to the floor. “Just wanted to say, you’re pretty…by the way. In case no one’s told you,”.

“Oh, I’ve been told,” you joked as he blushed. “Yeah I’m sure you have been,” he said, “I wasnt trying to make out like no one’s called you pretty or anything-,” he started, eyes wide. “Hey, chill out dude,” you snickered, “I was kidding,”.

“Oh, uh, right,” he said, nodding his head slowly, “I’m Lando by the way,”. You smiled, nodding slowly. “Y/N,”. He nodded slowly, running a hand and damn did he have massive hands through his curls, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“Well, uh, it was nice meeting you,” he said awkwardly. “Thanks,” you said, “and uh, can I grab your number? I can teach you a thing or two about…checking stuff,” you said, your pick-up line half failing as you winced internally.

He rolled his eyes, typing his number into your phone as you snickered, taking your phone back afterwads. “Alright…uh, ‘Lamdo’,”you said as he snatched the phone back, cheeks pink, “sorry, it’s Lando, that was a typo,”.

What an interesting dude.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 35

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: rude bitches, rich people being wildly out of touch with the modern era, vague hints of body image issues, comfort, and lots of holiday fluff

wc: 3.6k

A/N: Happy holidays all! I had hoped to have this chapter up yesterday, but the characters stopped talking to me for a few days so ... here we are. 😅

Chapter Selection

Jason healed fast, when he bothered to get medical attention. By the end of the week he was back to his standard training regiment, the arm wound was already shaping up to be one of his less pronounced scars, and Bruce insisted he couldn't use the incident to get out of the Wayne Foundation Christmas Gala. So, the Friday before Christmas I found myself back in my red dress, this time paired with a white faux fur wrap draped across my shoulders. Jason bit back a grin when I held out the necklace he'd given me, eagerly taking it. I held my hair out of the way while he clasped it around my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.

“Stunning~” he purred softly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I giggled softly, leaning against him. “Thank you~”

Damian cleared his throat behind us and I turned toward him. He looked downright regal in his suit; it was perfectly tailored, and the vibrant green tie matched his eyes beautifully.

“Oh my god, Damian! You look incredible, sweetie!” I squealed a bit, clenching my fists by my cheeks.

He flushed, looking away awkwardly. “Calm down, sister.”

I bit back the coo’s that threatened to pour out of my mouth. Damian rolled his eyes at the face I was making, and Jason laughed softly; “You might want to let her get it out, demon brat. Wouldn't want her squealing like that when the socialites get here.”

Damian frowned, staring up at me before holding his arms out for a hug. “... Proceed.”

I squealed and pulled him in, kissing the top of his head. “My handsome baby!”

He allowed my babbling for several minutes before gently pulling away. “Alright, alright, that's enough.”

I took a deep breath, getting myself under control again. “Sorry, sorry ... Who else will be there tonight?”

“Cain and Thomas will be around. And Father and Grayson are on Bat-duty.”

“Ok, cool.” I nodded. “... Where's Tim?”

“He’s needed at a Drake Industries event tonight. But he'll be here tomorrow for the holiday.” Jason rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile on his face.

Damian stayed glued to my side throughout the evening. Since Bruce was ‘inescapably occupied', the Gotham social scene had their eyes on those of us who were present. The WE board was also at the gala, so we were fortunately not accosted with requests to meet with Bruce at the office, but we were left on our own to deal with the social aspect.

An older woman approached us on the side of the dance floor, an insincere smile plastered to her face. “Now you must be Jason Todd. And young Damian Wayne, ah, such a pleasure to meet you both! Mr. Wayne has told us so much about you!”

Jason raised an eyebrow; “oh, has he?”

“Of course! He's terribly proud of his boys, you know. Oh, we were just devastated when we heard he was busy tonight. Perhaps you could tell your father we spoke?” She smiled brightly down at Damian; “it is getting to be about that time, isn't it? And our Maria would just love to meet you, young man.”

Damian pressed closer to me, reaching for my hand. I frowned, gently squeezing back. “... Sorry, it's getting to be what time?”

The woman tittered; “well, young men of status must be introduced to their social equals, mustn't they? Mr. Wayne will want to secure a good match for his son.”

I blinked a bit, wrapping an arm protectively around Damian's shoulders as I turned toward Jason; “what year is it? Have we fallen through a wormhole to the Regency period?”

Jason laughed as the woman's expression soured. “Perhaps we should call Mr. Wayne directly...”

“I'd love to hear that. When are you going to call? I'll make sure we're visiting.” Jason snorted.

The woman scurried away, huffing softly. Damian frowned deeply, staying close. I gently stroked his hair. “... Do you want to go up to your room, sweetheart? We can say you got tired.”

He slowly shook his head. “No, not yet, I'll be ok.”

Cass came over, looking at me as she held a hand out to Jason; “I need to borrow him for a minute.”

Jason rolled his eyes; “why?”

“I told the VP I couldn't dance with him because I promised you this one.”

He sighed, taking her hand. “Why me? Why not Duke?”

They made their way onto the dance floor, and Damian looked up at me, offering me his hand. “... Sister, shall we dance?”

I chuckled softly, taking it. “Such a little gentleman~”

He smirked a bit, leading me onto the floor after Cass and Jason. Damian was a surprisingly good dancer, and we spun around the dance floor a few times. Eventually, we ended up at the buffet table for some punch. A group of women were giggling amongst themselves nearby, and I caught just a bit of their conversation.

“It's just a shame about his face, you know?”

“Ugh, tragic. He was such a cute kid.”

“I know! I could have gotten past his poor upbringing, but that scar … that’s a deal breaker.”

“Didn't he have to find a girl from the bad side of town?”

“Yeah, he did! And I heard she's pretty f-”

Damian snapped; “yes, my new sister is very pretty. She's also clever, and kind, and we're all very pleased to call her family.”

The girls gasped softly, eyes darting toward us; “... This is a private conversation.”

“Is it? You weren't doing a very good job of keeping it to yourselves.”

I gently placed a hand on Damian's shoulder; “ignore them kiddo, they're not important.”

“Excuse you?” One of the girls shrieked; “my daddy could buy and sell you!”

“And yet he can't buy you some manners?” I sipped my punch, rolling my eyes as she sputtered.

I felt a familiar hand on my back as Jason slid in next to me. “Princess? Is everything alright?”

I smiled softly, leaning against him slightly; “hello, handsome~”

“These imbeciles are under the incredibly flawed impression that their opinions on our family are worth listening to.” Damian growled softly.

Jason's arm tightened around my waist. “I see … Well, which of us is the star of tonight's gossip?”

One of the girls cleared her throat; “n- nothing like that, Mr. Todd. These two misheard…”

“I highly doubt that. Come on, say it to our faces.” Jay raised an eyebrow.

“... Really, there's nothing to say-”

“They were commenting on your scars, Todd.”

The girls paled, clearing their throats awkwardly. “N- now that's just not true. None of us said anything about you…”

“My brother is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Tell the truth now, you don't have any vapid comments for me, maybe about this one?” He gestured toward the J branded onto his cheek. “Everyone's always so curious about it. If you want to talk, talk. Don't let me stop you.”

I gently squeezed his hand. “Jace, they're not worth it. Come on, let's get some air, yeah?”

He slowly nodded, frowning. “... Yeah, alright baby.”

I nodded, letting him lead the way. As we passed the girls, I leaned in to whisper; “it's Christmas, so I'm going to be nice to you today. But if I hear one more unkind word about my man tonight I will find you, and I will show you exactly how we handle these things on the ‘bad side of town'. Got it?”

The ringleader of their group sneered at me; “what are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

I looked her over; “... Let's just say you'll look more interesting when I'm done.”

“Is that a threat?!” She growled.

“Of course not. It's a guarantee.” I smirked, rejoining my boys as they stepped into the gardens.

The snow swirled lazily around us, and Jason leaned against a stone railing. I gently stroked his back, and he sighed softly, holding me close. “... You weren't particularly subtle. Someone will have heard what you said to them.”

“Fine, they can share the story far and wide for all I care. It will spare me from having to repeat myself.”

He chuckled softly, looking over at me. “... It's supposed to be my job to defend your honor…”

“How exactly will you do that, Todd? Shoot the trollops?” Damian smirked a bit. “That will be even less subtle than her threats.”

“... Did they say something?” He frowned.

“Damian didn't let them.”

He smirked; “I was not about to let them speak unkindly of my favorite sister.”

Jason chuckled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Good.”

I smiled softly, kissing Jason's cheek. “You feel alright?”

He leaned in, nodding slowly. “Yeah … I just … I'd almost forgotten what that was like.” He leaned against me, and I held him close. “... At least they don't know about the rest of them though.”

I cupped his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “They’re nothing. They’re insects taking cheap shots at a king because it makes them feel better about how insignificant they are. It lets them pretend they don’t burn with jealousy every time they see you.”

He chuckled weakly, cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. “A king, huh? Does that make you my queen?”

“I suppose that's for you to decide, my king~” I giggled softly.

Damian gagged a bit. “Ok, both of you need to stop, or I'll have to follow Thomas around for a while.”

I woke on Christmas Eve to an insistent knocking. Jason's arms tightened around me and he groaned softly. “... Whaaat?”

“Snowball fight!!!” Duke roared from the other side of the door.

Jason shot out of bed, stumbling for the closet.

“Woah!” I blinked a bit. “What's going on?”

“Snowball fight! Get dressed!” He grinned, tossing some warm clothes onto the bed for me. I chuckled softly, pulling them on. Jay grabbed my hand as soon as I was dressed, pulling me toward the door.

We met Duke, Tim, and Steph in the foyer. Tim grinned, leading us all outside. The grounds were blanketed in pristine white, with more flakes fluttering down around us. “Come on, we gotta make a base!”

We ran for the yard. Dick and Bruce were already building a shelter while Damian and Cass made snowballs. We hunkered down a good distance from them.

“Duke, Steph, you're on snowballs!” Tim announced. They got started, and the rest of us began creating a snow hill to hide behind.

“Sister! It's not too late, you can join the winning side!” Damian called across the yard.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you!” I laughed. “Join us, baby brother, and our victory will be glorious!”

“I will not betray my father!” He roared, laughing. “If you will not join us, you are the enemy! There will be no mercy, sister! Reconsider your loyalties!”

“You reconsider yours, little one!”

Jason laughed, offering me a snowball. “Ladies first?”

I grinned, kissing his cheek, and threw. The ball burst against Bruce's back, and the game was on. Soon I could barely make out Tim's attempts to shout instructions to our team over the sounds of laughter and snowballs bursting all around us.

We must have spent hours out there. Duke snuck away at one point, bringing back donuts and thermoses of coffee. After a long while, a taxi van came up the driveway. Bruce called time out as Bernard hopped out. The driver lowered a ramp, and Babs rolled out as well.

Tim beamed, running over to greet his boyfriend, and Dick ran over to give Babs a hug. Everyone gravitated toward the house to say hi, and Alfred called us all in for hot chocolates. Jay wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a couch to cuddle and warm up.

“Should we do first presents now?” Dick grinned.

“First presents?”

“On Christmas Eve everyone gets to open one present!” Steph grinned, pressing a box into Cass's hand. “Open this one, Cass!”

Everyone took turns opening gifts. Jason tried to give me one, but Tim shouted; “wait!”

I jumped, looking over to him. “... Tim, we had an agreement. You got me jewelry for my first gala, that was my Christmas present from you.”

He grinned, holding out a box. It had blue wrapping paper with a big silver bow. “Yes, but this isn't a Christmas present. This is a Christmas Eve present. … And if you don't buy that, it's a Hanukkah present.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “... Are you Jewish?”

“Bruce is.”

“... Do you celebrate Hanukkah, or are you using it to make me accept your gift?”

“Sometimes we do, when his cousin visits. But otherwise, it’s hard enough to get him to do a one day holiday.” He shrugged, pressing the box into my hands.

“... Ok, fine. Thank you, Tim.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes affectionately as I took the box. I carefully unwrapped it, blinking in shock; Tim had put together an assortment of rare and luxurious spices, including saffron, Tahitian vanilla beans, and several things I'd never even heard of. “... Woah! Tim, this is so much…”

He grinned. “You like it? I figured you probably haven't had a chance to cook with some of these before.”

“You'd be right. Thank you so much!” I gave Tim a quick hug, and Damian peered at the spices.

“Sister, we must make saffron cookies. Please?”

I grinned. “Sounds good, kiddo! Next weekend?”

He beamed and nodded, leaning against me a bit. I stroked his hair, holding him close as Bruce and Dick brought out some games. The rest of the day was spent playing and eating. Bruce surprised me with how enthusiastic he was; given how Dick and Tim spoke about it, I had assumed he would participate in a little bit, then disappear for a while. Instead, he spent the whole day with us, and he even seemed to be having fun.

Bernard and Babs stayed for dinner before heading back home, sharing a cab into the city again. At bedtime Damian had me go up with him to tuck him in. I sat on the side of his bed as he got situated, smiling softly as I offered him a small red box. “I have a present for you, baby brother.”

He tilted his head, curious; “not tomorrow?”

“You'll get a present tomorrow too, but I thought you'd want to receive this one in private.” He opened it slowly, sliding my old ipod into his hand. “I recorded something special for you.”

He looked up at me, sliding an earbud into his ear before pushing play. His face lit up as the song started. “... You recorded my lullabies?”

I nodded, grinning; “so that you can listen to them even if I can't sing for you myself.”

He grinned, hugging me tight. “... Thank you, sister.”

I stroked his back gently, kissing the top of his head. “You're welcome, baby.”

I set the ipod on his bedside table for him, tucking him in. Once he was comfy I cleared my throat and began to sing. The words flowed, almost effortlessly, and I silently thanked the grandma's who'd spent so much time helping me practice at the Arab Cultural Center. Damian's eyes stayed glued to my face as I sang, a look of shock and wonder frozen on his face.

As I finished the song, he whispered; “... You … you learned an Arabic lullaby … for me?”

I nodded, smiling softly; “I know my accent is very American, but the ladies at the cultural center said it was coming along. What do you think?”

“... It is very American, … but it's perfect. … Can … Can you do it again?”

I nodded, singing the song again. He curled up and I gently trailed a finger down the bridge of his nose, lulling him to sleep. His eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

In the morning I woke to Jason's fingers delicately tracing designs on my shoulder. I smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his chest. “Morning~”

“Morning, doll~ … merry Christmas~”

“Merry Christmas~ … ready for your present?”

He chuckled softly. “I don't know, am I?”

“Not that kind of present, silly.” I chuckled, stretching as I sat up and grabbed a big bag of presents. I found Jason's, offering him the red and gold wrapping. He kissed me gently before carefully popping it open. He slowly smiled, looking over the handmade book inside. The cover was a watercolor painting of the pair of us, Jason cupping my chin about to kiss me. It was a perfect mirror of the kiss scene in the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He carefully opened the book, reading the scenes I had dutifully transcribed; scenes that reminded me of us.

“It's beautiful, baby girl, thank you.” he smiled softly, pulling me into a kiss. “I love you~”

I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you too~”

He smiled softly, offering me a silver wrapped gift. “Your turn.” I grinned, opening it to find a book; ‘Love in Prose: An Annotator's Book of Love Poems'. “I was going to write something for you, but … well, you know I struggle with words. I try, but they don't come to me the way they come to you, you always know what to say. ... I did find some of my own words; they're not very pretty, but I can promise you that they are true. But, mostly I found myself quoting the experts. ... So, I thought it best to just … give you the experts.”

I flipped open the book, reading the first poem; Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe.

“Oh, Jason … it's perfect.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, hugging him tight. “I love it! Thank you~”

He hugged back, kissing my temple. We cuddled like that for a little while, until a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet.

“Todd? Sister?”

“Morning, kiddo~”

He popped the door open, still wearing his pj's. “Hi. Breakfast is ready.”

I nodded, getting up. “Thanks Damian!”

Jason stretched, popping his back, and picked up the presents. “Ok, let's go!”

We met everyone in the family room, and Jason set the presents out. I passed out hand painted snowflake shaped platters loaded with cookies, brownies, and fudge. Damian's platter had extra ma'amoul, but everyone got a selection. Jason passed out mugs filled with hot chocolate packets, candy canes, and marshmallow toppers.

“So cute! Did you guys paint these yourselves?” Steph grinned.

I nodded, beaming. “We went to the place in the mall! Jay did the mugs, and I did the platters! And we made the treats ourselves!”

Everyone got comfy, and more presents were passed out. Bruce gave everyone gift cards for a bunch of fun things around Gotham; mine included several coffee shops and restaurants near Gotham University, as well as craft stores, and book stores. Jason, Damian and I all also received year passes to the Gotham Zoo. Dick had opted for practical gifts; lots of cozy slippers, favorite snacks, and upgrades for people's home goods. Tim gave high tech presents; lots of hologram art and smart devices. Steph passed around self care items, all luxury brands. Finally, it was my turn. I gave everyone their gifts, chewing my lower lip a bit. I really hoped they liked them.

For Dick, I had embroidered an elephant head onto a royal blue scarf. Elephants are clever, and friendly, and many have a surprising sense of humor, much like Dick. Tim received a handmade journal; the cover had a watercolor painting of a dragon guarding his forest. For Babs, I painted a cityscape, with heavenly sunbeams peaking between the buildings, illuminating otherwise dark corners of the city, just like she did for all of us. For Steph, a purple beanie with green vines and a large white dahlia embroidered on - the flower of kindness.

Damian received an emerald green scarf with a black and gray wolf cub and a silver crescent moon. Wolves are loyal, and even a young pup is fiercely protective of their family. Perfect for my baby brother. Cass's black beanie was embroidered with lavender and rosemary - herbs said to foster clarity, something she seemed to bring to every situation. For Duke, I had embroidered solar motifs in gold on a white scarf. Alfred received a watercolor painting of a fjord; a peaceful, but defensibly sound landscape. And finally, for Bruce, a black scarf with colorful fringe and embroidered stripes representing each of his children.

Dick and Steph put their presents on immediately, complimenting my choices, and Damian shot up to run to the tree. He pulled a large flat rectangle wrapped in green out from behind the tree, bringing it over to me.

“Open this next.”

I nodded, grinning, and carefully peeled the paper away. As soon as I realized what he was giving me, I felt tears threaten to fill my eyes. “Damian, you're giving me the painting?”

He nodded. “You said it made you feel beautiful.”

I nodded quickly, sliding the paper away. The portrait he'd painted of the three of us on my couch was even more beautiful than I'd remembered. “It does. It's incredible. Thank you, baby brother.”

“I haven't seen this painting, what did he do?” Dick craned his neck to look over my shoulder, and I turned the painting around for everyone to see.

“Woah … you're getting so good, Damian!” Steph grinned.

He flushed a bit, clearly pleased. “Thank you…”

Bruce nodded. “It's remarkable.”

Damian smiled, taking his seat again. Jay wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and Duke took his turn passing out gifts.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie

[steddieas-shegoes]

terrible twos

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'christmas'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated m | 702 words | cw: referenced sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, christmas cookies, the awful stage of toddlerhood that parents barely survive

2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣

“Daddy! Up!” Sawyer is making grabby hands at Eddie, and Eddie can’t do anything but give in. His hands may be busy rolling cookie dough, but there’s nothing that would stop him from holding his son.

The terrible twos hit early and they hit hard.

Steve insists Rory never had it quite like this, but at barely a year and a half old, Sawyer is always one ‘no’ away from a meltdown. He’s been very independent, and with that independence, he hasn’t wanted to be held unless he’s hurt.

If he’s asking to come up now, Eddie’s gonna do it.

“Cookie?” He asks and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not yet, little dude. It’s still gotta bake in the oven.”

Sawyer’s lip pouts out. “Peas?”

He hears Steve and Rory in the next room, probably playing NHL since that was the gift she wanted most this year. He won’t interrupt them, but Sawyer might if he starts screaming about not having a cookie.

“You can have the first one when it’s done cooking,” Eddie tries to appease him.

Not that he gives in at tantrums. Quite the opposite.

It’s just that it’s Christmas and Sawyer isn’t old enough to understand that he can’t eat raw cookie dough, so this tantrum would be kind of understandable.

“Daddy peas,” Sawyer says again, reaching for the dough on the counter. “Cookie mine?”

“You can pick which one you want when I cut them and you can have it as soon as it’s out of the oven,” Eddie allows. He hopes that’s enough,

“Cookie mine now?”

“Not now. In a tiny bit,” Eddie tries to distract him with the cookie cutters. “Pick a shape. We have Christmas trees…and candy canes…”

“Cookie!”

Eddie laughs, tries to keep his composure at what is surely escalating into a code red situation.

“It’ll be a cookie in any shape, silly goose. What about a nutcracker?” Eddie holds up the shape, but realizes it’s too late.

He’s lost.

“Down! Dada!” Sawyer is kicking his legs to get down and Eddie lets him. But he isn’t going to let him interrupt Steve’s time with Rory, not over this.

“How about a different treat?” Eddie tries, offering the first thing he sees: a piece of chocolate from someone’s stocking. “It’s got caramel!”

Sawyer pauses, thinks about it, shakes his head. His little curls bounce around almost comically as his face starts to get red.

“How about a candy cane?” Eddie offers instead, desperate.

“You wanna push buttons to shoot the puck?” Rory asks from the doorway, Steve right behind her with a knowing look.

“Shoot da puck? Sawyer shoot?” Sawyer asks, distracted enough that Eddie can breathe out.

God, having a toddler with the same temperament he had as a kid is hard. He feels like sending Wayne a fruit basket, maybe a blank check with his signature on it.

“Up!” He runs to Rory, who scoops him up and carries him to the living room, letting him babble mostly nonsensical things the entire way.

Eddie flops to the floor and looks up at Steve.

“How much longer until he’s a reasonable human?”

Steve snorts. “Could be days. Could be years.”

Steve joins him on the floor, reaching out to lace their fingers together. The sound of Sawyer cheering for Rory fills the house and Eddie smiles to himself.

“Did he at least pick a shape for his cookie?” Steve asks.

“Nope. And I don’t even think I have the energy to make them anymore.”

“You want some help?” Steve offers.

Eddie turns his head and watches Steve smirking up at the ceiling.

“Are you gonna make dick shapes when I’m not looking?”

“I’d never.”

Eddie squints his eyes at Steve. “You did last year. I had to shove it in my mouth so no one would see.”

“Don’t act like you’re not used to shoving a dick in your mouth,” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Alright. Watch yourself. We’ve still got hours before anyone’s dick is in anyone’s mouth. And at least four dozen cookies to bake. And a toddler to control.”

Steve kisses him quickly, just a peck. A promise for later.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Steve says.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Tension Between Us | LN4

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/n, shy and reluctant, has been resisting Lando’s advances for months. After accidentally flashing him at a gathering, their tension builds, and Y/n eventually gives in to their chemistry.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 4.7k

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

“Lando, please, stop looking at me like that,” Y/n said, her voice a mix of exasperation and something softer she couldn’t quite name. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze. But it was too late. He had already seen it—the way her cheeks flushed, the way her breath hitched when he leaned in just a little too close.

“Like what?” Lando smirked, his British accent curling around the words like a tease. He tilted his head, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Like I can’t believe how fucking beautiful you are?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her. God, why did he have to be so relentless? Six months of this—six months of him showing up unexpectedly, sending her texts that made her heart race, and saying things that left her speechless. And yet, she still refused to let herself believe it. Lando Norris, F1 driver, Monaco resident, and the man who could have anyone he wanted, was pursuing her. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be real.

“You’re such a flirt,” she muttered, turning away to grab her drink from the coffee table. They were at a friend’s house, some casual gathering she hadn’t expected him to show up to. But of course, he had. He always found a way to be where she was.

“I’m not flirting,” Lando corrected, his voice low and smooth as he stepped closer. “I’m stating facts. You’re stunning, Y/n. And honestly, I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice.”

Y/n’s grip tightened on her glass. Pretending? What was he even talking about? She wasn’t the one pretending here. She was the one trying to keep her feelings locked away, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped every time he smiled or the way her skin tingled when he brushed against her. Meanwhile, Lando was… well, Lando. Confident. Charming. Persistent.

“You don’t have to pretend anything,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “But you also don’t have to say things like that just because—”

“Just because what?” he interrupted, stepping even closer until they were almost touching. His cologne—something subtle and expensive—wrapped around her, making it hard to think straight. “Because I mean it? Because I’ve been trying to get you to see that I’m serious for six months now?”

Y/n swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Lando…”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “Do you really think I’d waste my time chasing someone I didn’t want?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, there was a loud crash from the kitchen. Startled, she jumped, her drink slipping from her hand. The glass shattered on the floor, and instinctively, she bent down to start cleaning it up. She bent down to pick up the shards, her movements quick and flustered. The loose, flowy blouse she wore—soft and barely clinging to her frame—shifted with the motion. The neckline dipped lower than she realized, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, there was nothing but skin. Her breasts, bare and exposed, caught the light as the fabric slipped away.

Lando froze. His breath hitched, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. The room seemed to shrink, the noise of the party fading into a distant hum. He didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t look away. The curve of her breasts, the softness of her skin—it was all so unexpected, so utterly captivating.

Y/n straightened abruptly, her face burning as she realized what had just happened. She clutched the edges of her blouse, pulling it back into place, but the damage was done. Lando’s gaze lingered, heavy and unapologetic, before slowly lifting to meet hers.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the party. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric, trying to secure it, but her hands felt clumsy, betraying her nerves. She glanced up at Lando, who was staring at her with wide eyes and a grin that could only be described as shit-eating.

“Well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the couch. “That’s one way to get my attention.”

“Shut up,” Y/n hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the spilled drink. But as she moved, she could feel his eyes on her, hot and heavy, and it made her heart race in a way she couldn’t ignore. She stood up abruptly, tossing the napkin onto the table. “It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure it was,” Lando said, his tone teasing but his eyes still dark with something she couldn’t quite name. He took a step toward her, his presence overwhelming. “But you know what? I’m not complaining.”

Y/n glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. How could there be when he was looking at her like that? Like she was the only person in the room. No, the only person in the world.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shot back, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “But seriously, Y/n. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. Because she was scared. Because she didn’t believe someone like him could truly want someone like her. Because the thought of letting him in terrified her more than anything else.

But before she could answer, the sound of laughter from the kitchen broke the moment. Lando sighed, dropping his hand and taking a step back. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he promised, his voice soft but firm.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. And as she watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she should take the risk. After all, Lando had spent the last six months proving he wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe it was time she stopped running.

---

Later that night, after most of the guests had left, Y/n found herself alone with Lando in the living room. The air between them was thick with tension, and she could feel his eyes on her as she sat on the couch, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?”

Y/n’s head snapped up, her cheeks heating once again. “Nothing happened,” she insisted, though her voice wavered.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. And my imagination just decided to conjure up images of your—”

“Lando!” she interrupted, her face burning. But despite her embarrassment, there was a part of her that felt… bold. Empowered, even. He had been chasing her for months, and maybe it was time she stopped holding back.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “You want to talk about it? Let’s talk.”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly, leaning back with a smirk. “I’m all ears.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then, before she could second-guess herself, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. Lando’s jaw dropped, his eyes locking on hers with a mixture of shock and raw desire.

“Now,” she said, her voice trembling but determined. “What do you want to say?”

The room seemed to shrink as Y/n stood there, her chest exposed, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Lando’s eyes flicked down for a moment, lingering on her bare skin before snapping back up to meet hers. His smirk had faded, replaced by something far more primal.

“You really know how to make a man speechless,” he said, his voice low and filled with a warmth that sent shivers down her spine.

Y/n swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of herself. “I… I didn’t mean—”

Before she could finish, Lando reached out, his hand searing against her hip as he pulled her sharply onto his lap. She gasped, her hands instinctively landing on his shoulders for balance. His grip tightened, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other slid up her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine.

“Don’t” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, “don’t try to take it back now.”

Her heart was racing, her body betraying her resolve as she felt the heat radiating off him. She should push him away. She should stop this. But she couldn’t. Not when every part of her was screaming to stay close.

Lando’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, over her skin. His fingertips trailed along her side, sending goosebumps in their wake, before sliding up to cup her breast. She inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering shut as his thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “Every time I see you, all I can think about is this. About touching you. Making you feel good.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her nails digging into his shoulders as he leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. She wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but words failed her. All she could do was hold on as he explored her, his touch igniting a fire she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.

His mouth traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along her collarbone before latching onto her breast. Her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his tongue swirled around her nipple, sucking gently but relentlessly. Heat pooled between her thighs, her body arching instinctively into his touch.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice shaking.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me you want this.”

It wasn’t a demand—it was a plea. And in that moment, Y/n knew she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Not when every fiber of her being was crying out for him.

“I do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Lando’s face before he claimed her lips in a searing kiss. It was hungry, desperate, full of all the pent-up desire they’d both been holding onto for months. His hands roamed her body, claiming every inch of her as if he couldn’t get enough.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh, and it only fueled her own need. The world outside this room ceased to exist. There was only Lando—his touch, his taste, the way he made her feel completely and utterly alive.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. He rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n smiled faintly, her fingers trailing down his jaw. “I think I might have some idea.”

Lando chuckled softly, his hands moving to her hips. “Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

Before she could respond, he stood, lifting her effortlessly in his arms. She let out a surprised laugh, clinging to him as he carried her to the couch and laid her down gently. His body hovered over hers, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Let me show you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

She nodded, her voice catching in her throat as he kissed her again, his hands exploring every inch of her body. His touch was deliberate, each movement designed to unravel her completely.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, Y/n’s breath hitched. “Lando…”

“Trust me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck. “I’ll take care of you.”

And she did. In that moment, surrounded by him, she trusted him completely. When his fingers found her core, she gasped, her body arching into his touch. “Oh god…”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice achingly soft. “Let go.”

And she did, her world shattering into a thousand pieces as he brought her to the edge and pushed her over.

Lando pulled back slightly, his breath uneven as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Y/n lay there, her chest rising and falling, trying to steady herself after the intensity of the moment. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek as his lips curled into a soft smile.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing as she tried to meet his gaze. “Yeah… I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her briefly again before pulling away. But instead of resuming where they left off, Lando reached for her shirt, which had been discarded earlier in the heat of the moment. Gently, he slipped it back over her head, covering her with care. She blinked up at him, confused.

“Lando?” she questioned softly.

He sat back, running a hand through his messy curls before meeting her eyes again. His expression was warm but filled with a new resolve. “Get your stuff.”

Her brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Because we’re leaving,” he said simply, standing up and offering her a hand.

---

Lando’s hand was warm against hers as he led her out of the party, fingers intertwined tightly, as if he were afraid she might slip away. The cool London air brushed against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through her body. She glanced up at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked, her voice trembling slightly. She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.

He turned to her, that mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “My place,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “Unless you’d rather not.”

She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. This was Lando Norris—charming, confident, and everything she never thought she deserved. But the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to her like she was the only person in the world, made it impossible to say no.

“I… I want to,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushing.

His grin widened, and he pulled her closer, his free hand resting gently on her waist. “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

The car ride to his apartment was a blur. His hand never left hers, his fingers occasionally tracing patterns on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. He kept stealing glances at her, his gaze lingering on her lips, her neck, her hands—anywhere he could touch, anywhere he wanted to touch. And every time their eyes met, the tension between them grew thicker, more intoxicating.

When they finally arrived at his building, Lando led her inside with an urgency she hadn’t expected. The elevator ride felt eternal, the silence heavy with unspoken words. She stood close to him, her shoulder brushing against his arm, and when he shifted slightly, their bodies pressed together, her breath hitched.

As soon as the doors opened, Lando tugged her toward his apartment, unlocking the door with practiced ease. He stepped inside, pulling her with him, and the moment the door closed behind them, he turned to her, his hands cupping her face.

“Tell me if this is too much,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “But I’ve waited too long to kiss you again.”

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, urgent and demanding. Her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. He tasted like mint, intoxicating and familiar, and she couldn’t help but lean into him, her body humming with need.

His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips, and he pulled her closer until there was no space left between them. She could feel the hardness of his chest against hers, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. “I think I have some idea,” she teased, her voice shaky but playful.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and then he was kissing her again, softer this time, more intimate. His hands wandered, exploring every inch of her as if memorizing her shape, her curves, her reactions. And when his fingers found the hem of her shirt, he paused, looking at her with a question in his eyes.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, he lifted her shirt over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up. His eyes widened for a moment, taking in the sight of her exposed skin, the curve of her breasts, the way her nipples hardened under his gaze.

“Third time tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Still just as fucking breathtaking.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. There was something about the way he stared at her—like she was the only thing that mattered—that made her feel bold, unashamed. She arched her back slightly, letting him see more of her, and watched as his jaw tightened.

“You like what you see?” she asked, her voice low, teasing.

He let out a rough laugh, his hands sliding up her sides, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin just below her breasts. “Like? Y/n, I’ve been obsessed since the first time I saw you. But this…” His thumbs grazed her nipples, and she gasped. “This is beyond anything I could’ve imagined.”

His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine. She reached for him, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush, her bare chest pressed against his shirt. He groaned, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his palms warm and firm.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, his voice rough, almost pained. “How much I’ve thought about touching you, tasting you…”

She bit her lip, her hips instinctively grinding against his. “Then stop talking and show me.”

A wicked grin spread across his face, and before she could react, his mouth was on her neck, sucking and biting in a way that made her knees weak. His hands never left her breasts, kneading them gently, his thumbs circling her nipples until she was gasping for air.

“Lando…” she moaned, her fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his lips trailing down to the curve of her breast. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “God, I want you so much.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard, and she cried out, her body arching into him. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure. His free hand slid down to her jeans, popping the button open with ease, and she knew there was no turning back now.

He kissed her again, deep and passionate, his hands roaming freely now, teasing and tempting every part of her. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom, she knew there was no turning back.

The room was bathed in moonlight when he laid her down on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. He stripped off his own shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest, and she reached for him, eager to feel his skin against hers.

“I want you,” she confessed, her voice trembling but steady. “All of you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “You have me,” he promised, his hands sliding under her hips to remove her jeans. “Every part of me.”

As their clothes fell away, leaving nothing but skin and desire between them, Y/n realized she had never felt more herself than she did in that moment. With Lando, she wasn’t hiding, wasn’t pretending. She was just her, and that was enough.

And when he finally joined her on the bed, his body pressing into hers, she knew this was only the beginning.

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he reached the curve of her shoulder. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch like he was memorizing her. She arched into him, her fingers clutching at his back, nails lightly scraping against his skin. He groaned low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through her.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips continued their descent, leaving a trail of fire down her chest until they reached the swell of her breast. His tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak before taking it into his mouth. Y/n gasped, her head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shot through her.

His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he moved lower. He kissed a path down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel before he settled between her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with hunger, and she could feel his breath ghosting over her most sensitive area.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. She knew what he was about to do, and while the thought sent a thrill through her, she couldn’t wait. She needed more. Now.

He grinned, that mischievous glint in his eye she had come to adore. “Patience, love,” he teased, his fingers brushing lightly over her inner thigh. “I want to taste you.”

Her heart raced, but she shook her head, her hand reaching down to stop him. “No,” she said, her voice firmer than she expected. “I need you. I need to feel you inside me. Right now.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Someone’s eager,” he said, his tone playful. But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze or the way his breathing had quickened.

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she met his eyes, her own filled with determination. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” she reminded him, her voice low but steady. “And now… I need you. All of you.”

His smirk softened into something more tender, and he leaned up to kiss her. It was slow, deep, and full of promise. “Then you’ll have me,” he whispered against her lips. “But don’t think I won’t make you beg for it later.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands moving to his shoulders as he positioned himself above her. Her heart pounded in anticipation, her body already aching for him. When he finally pressed into her, she gasped, her head dropping back against the pillow as pleasure coursed through her.

Lando paused, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in shallow pants. “You feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. He kissed her deeply before beginning to move, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as her nails dug into his back. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the soft moans escaping her lips only spurring him on. Every touch, every movement, felt like electricity surging through her veins.

“Look at me,” Lando commanded, his voice husky but gentle. She opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze, and found herself completely lost in him. In that moment, there was nothing else—no doubts, no fears, just the two of them, consumed by each other.

“You drive me crazy,” he admitted, his pace slowing slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “In the best way possible.”

She smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Good,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending a warmth spreading through her chest. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied before capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His movements became more urgent, his hips driving into her harder, faster, until she felt herself teetering on the brink.

“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m so close…”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “I’ve got you.”

And then she was falling, stars bursting behind her eyelids as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out his name, her body trembling as he followed her over the edge, his own release shuddering through him.

For a moment, they lay there, still connected, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Lando brushed a kiss against her forehead, his arms holding her tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice light but affectionate.

She swatted his arm playfully, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “Only for you,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing again.

He grinned, that boyish charm that always made her heart skip a beat. “Good,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. “Because I plan on keeping you very needy.”

Y/n laughed softly, but her heart was racing for an entirely different reason now. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and she realized she couldn’t hold back any longer. If she didn’t tell him now, she might never find the courage.

“Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his eyes searching hers as he waited patiently. “I… I need to say something.”

“Go on,” he encouraged gently, his gaze softening.

She took a shaky breath, her hands resting against his chest. “I don’t know when it happened, but… I’ve fallen for you. Completely. I kept telling myself it was just a crush, that it would pass, but it hasn’t. And it won’t. I care about you so much, Lando, and—”

Before she could finish, his lips were on hers, silencing her words with a kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his own emotions shining brightly in his eyes.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, brushing his nose against hers. “Six months. Six painfully long months where I’ve done nothing but think about you. Wanting you. Yearning for you,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about you.”

Her eyes filled with tears at his confession, and she reached up to frame his face with her hands. “I wish I’d told you sooner,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, kissing away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “We’re here now, aren’t we? That’s all that matters.”

She nodded, her heart swelling as he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Lando,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he replied without hesitation, his voice steady and sure. “So much.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other and the overwhelming realization that they were finally on the same page. No more hesitations, no more holding back—just them, and a future they couldn’t wait to explore together.

[backtofiction28]

Ar lath ma, Vhenan

“How are the knives coming?” Rook asked as she entered the pantry.

          Lucanis had been pacing but stopped when he saw her. “Rook, this isn’t going to work. They moved the moon!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the ceiling as if the moon was there. “We are in over our heads. This is not magic you can fight with a blade. You’re putting your life in our hands.” He took a shaky breath. “My hands.” He looked down at his hands, brows furrowed in pain. “All I know is death.”

          Rook stepped closer to him and gently encased his hands with her own. “These hands knew how to comfort me when I almost broke down after rescuing the Dalish. These hands know how to make the best churros in all of Thedas. And these hands will not let me down for the final fight with the gods, because I trust in them. Just like I trust in you.” She smiled, trying to reassure him. “I know we can do this.”

          Lucanis brought her hands to his lips, kissing them gently. “Optimism is your best and worst quality.” He gripped them tightly. “If I have to kill every blighted creature in Thedas to keep you safe, I will.”

          Rook smirked. “Just two will be enough. And you know you don’t have to do this alone.”

           “I’m never alone anymore,” he said, meaning he meant Spite.

          She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’ll be here for you.”

          “Don’t make promises you might not keep.”

          Rook was quiet. She stared at his chocolate brown eyes—eyes that stared at her with such deep fondness and worry. She was such a sucker for those eyes. How did she end up caring for him so much? This wasn’t in her plan to save the world. But then again, when have her plans ever gone her way?

          Rook could feel her heart racing. She had planned on telling him at some point after they had defeated Illario. Stolen chances and her own cowardice had gotten in the way. And now the gods had hastened their plans to create their own dagger.

          Now would be a good chance, right?

Rook steeled her nerve. “Lucanis, I—”

          “Don’t,” he interrupted.

          She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. Did he know what she was going to say? He released her hands, the cold of the pantry seeping into her skin.

          “Whatever it takes,” he said. “I won’t miss this time.”

          Rook placed her hands behind her back, trying to act casual and ignoring the stab of disappointment in her chest. “Right.”

          Inside her head, she was screaming. Why couldn’t she say it? And why didn’t he let her finish? Maybe if she had said it, it would distract him from his task. She needed him focused—she needed everyone focused. This was their last chance at stopping the gods.

          Maybe this really isn’t a good time.

          But if she didn’t say then when? And how would she know they were going to make it back from this?

          If I don’t say it now, then I’m going to regret this.

          “Rook, are you alright?” Lucanis asked, his eyes shining with concern.

          Damn. She had been staring at him for too long with nothing to say. Figures she would make this whole situation awkward.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” she said suddenly. She could feel the flush of embarrassment coming on. Shit, why did she say it in Elvin?

          Lucanis raised a brow. “What does that mean?”

          “Um…it’s an ancient Elvin saying for good luck,” Rook said, scrambling for a way out. “You know, kind of like how performers say ‘break a leg’ before a performance?”

          “Does that make you my good luck charm?” Lucanis gave her a teasing smile.

          Rook blushed at his compliment. How could he say that he wasn’t good at flirting when he said it so effortlessly? She smiled. “Only if you want me to be,” she said. “I’ll see you at the eluvian.”

          She swiftly turned around and left the pantry, trying to slow down her heart rate and hoping that Spite didn’t catch a change in her scent. She was definitely going to think about that all day, but at least she told him. Granted, it was in Elvish, but that had to count. Right?

          (after the events of Tearstone Island)

          Ar lath ma, vhenan.

          Those were the last words that Rook had said to him before Solas pulled her into the Fade prison. Lucanis paced in the pantry, Spite’s voice a grating sound in his mind. No matter how many times he told him that Rook was gone, it only seemed to anger the demon more.

          There was no method to calm Spite down when Lucanis couldn’t even calm himself. He was just as devasted that Rook was gone. Emmrich had been working tirelessly to find her, but could he? From his limited understanding, the Fade was huge and seemed endless. How could Emmrich find her?

 Lucanis was getting restless. It had been two weeks since she had disappeared and the last words she had said to him plagued his mind. He tried asking Spite if he understood, but the demon did not. Rook had told him that it meant good luck, but Lucanis had a feeling that she had lied. But why? He growled, frustrated. He had to know the truth. So, Lucanis left the pantry to find Bellara. She was in Neve’s room, blankly watching the wisps fly.

          “Bellara?”

          She blinked and slowly smiled as he approached. “Oh, hey Lucanis. Don’t mind me. Just…” She trailed off, her eyes shining with tears.

          “I am sorry,” Lucanis said, “this is a bad time. I’ll go.”

          “No! It’s okay!” Bellara quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. “Was there something you needed?”

          Lucanis wasn’t sure if it was alright to even ask Bellara for anything, considering her state of mind. But, then again, after the damn island, everyone’s mood was low.

          Even his.

          “Rook said something to me before we left for the island. It was in Elvish,” Lucanis explained.

          Bellara cocked her head. “What did she say?”

          “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” Lucanis said, his accent stumbling over the words. “Rook said it meant good luck, but I have a feeling that it is not true.”

          Bellara had gone still, eyes wide and shining with tears. “It doesn’t mean good luck.”

          Lucanis frowned, noticing her body language. “What does it mean, then?”

          A tear escaped. “It means…I-I love you, my heart.” Her voice cracked at the last word.

After Rook had separated the dagger from Ghilan’nain’s body, she had disappeared. Lucanis called out her name over and over again, searching for her in the ruins. But he couldn’t find her. And neither could anyone else. Instead, they found Solas, freed from the Fade prison. Lucanis’ world had collapsed underneath his feet when the Elvin god told them that Rook was never to return. Instead, she was trapped in the Fade prison.

Now, it felt like Lucanis was falling deeper and deeper into a dark hole that he wasn’t sure he could escape. He stumbled a bit and had to grab the edge of Neve’s desk tightly, trying to use it as a way to center himself as Rook’s words once again echoed inside his mind.

Ar lath ma, vhenan.

          I love you, my heart.

          Rook had told him that she had loved him before heading to the island. Why? Why didn’t she say it to him in the language they both understood?

           Her scent. Changed. Smelled like. Roses. And hesitation.

           Is that why she had that strange look in her violet eyes?

          “I-I do not understand,” Lucanis said, his chest constricting. “Why did she say it in Elvish?”

          Bellara was fully crying, fat pools of tears dripping down to the floor. “I-I don’t know.” She sniffed and wiped away her tears. “But what I know is that Rook really did care for you, Lucanis. I-I think she truly meant what she said.”

          Bellara covered her mouth, eyes closed tight and shoulders shaking as she was wracked with more tears. In any other circumstance, Lucanis would not have hesitated to comfort her, but not this time. He could barely comfort himself. He wished he could have cried and screamed and raged or felt something other than the hollow feeling inside of his chest.

          How much more heartache could he take before he was finally broken? He spent a year tortured and imprisoned, but he, somehow, was able to keep himself sane. He was determined to set himself free and kill those responsible for his imprisonment. But this? This was not something he could solve with a knife.

          You. Should have. Told her too.

          Lucanis could never hide what he was truly feeling from Spite.  How could Lucanis hide away the feeling that he had been harboring for weeks? The feeling that he had been hesitant to say. He was an assassin. He should have known better. He was taught to never miss the moment to strike.

          But now it was too late to tell her.

          Too late to tell Rook that he loved her too.

[ispeakforthetrees19]

Puck Me

Hockey Player!Levi x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Hockey Player Levi and Coach Reader make a bet...who will win?

A/N: I can't stop writing this and I'm having too much fun with it to enjoy it alone. I suck shit at fancy Tumblr HTML and theme, but here it is.

This story is based on some of my own experiences as a figure skater. This will eventually feature smut, and I will update the tags as I go. I may update again this weekend. Thanks to my beta @nilfgaardianleviosa, as always.

Cross posted to AO3.

Tags: Levi Ackerman/Reader, AU-Modern Setting, Hockey Player Levi Ackerman, Figure Skater and Coach Reader, Enemies to Lovers, You know where this is going, this will be explicit in the future, 2nd person POV, female reader.

TW: bad words, fuckboys

Words: 2.7k

Chapter 1: Teaching Tots

You step out onto the ice with Petra, fresh and smooth after the Zamboni cleaned up from morning sessions. You bend your ankles, testing your laces to make sure they’re tight enough, and start skating around the rink, warming up against the cold air.

You do some basic footwork and finally you feel warm enough to take off your jacket, leaving you in leggings and a form-fitting long-sleeve shirt. Petra is at the boards when you skate up to hang your jacket on the side; she has her foot up, stretching out her hamstrings.

Public ice is pretty dead today, maybe ten or fifteen people in rental skates starting to get on and wobble their way around the ice as they cling to the wall. You smile at the toddler bravely making their way out to the center, holding onto the PVC pipe support that kids use to stay upright. His mom calls out to him, begging him to come back to where she can’t leave the wall, too unstable in the mediocre skates with limited ankle support.

“Wanna run through jumps?” Petra asks, smiling at you with her big, hazel eyes.

You shrug. “Sure.”

You and Petra each claim a side of the ice, doing crossovers to gain speed, running through your single jumps in order, then your doubles. You’re warm now, and you take off your shirt, grateful for the cool air to hit your arms and shoulders uncovered by the tank top you have underneath.

“Fuck, my double lutz is kicking my ass,” Petra complains as she finds her way next to you. “I just can’t get enough oomph on the entrance.”

“That’s because your toe picks are weak as fuck,” you laugh, pointing to her blades. “They aren’t big enough to really dig in and get you the momentum you need to get your ass in the air.”

“But your blades are so expensive,” Petra whines, looking down at your skates.

“Black Friday still happens for figure skaters,” you remind her. “It’s almost the holidays, why not put it on your Christmas list? Not like your dad can say no to you anyway.”

Petra laughs and pushes your shoulder. “Maybe I will. Hey, are you working on your triples?”

You grimace and shake your head. “A little. Waiting for the bruises on my hips to subside before I bruise them again.”

Petra’s about to respond when you hear loud voices whooping from across the ice. You turn to look at the hockey team getting on the ice and roll your eyes.

“God, the Titans,” Petra mutters. “Don’t they have practice later?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Tell me you aren’t already drooling over Ackerman being on the same sheet of ice as you.”

Her cheeks light up pink, and she shakes her head furiously. “No! It’s just—ugh, he’s so distracting.”

You laugh at her embarrassment, pulling her wrist to drag her away from the boards. “Come on, let’s work on our jumps before they take over the whole ice running drills.”

Petra pouts but follows, and you both run through some more doubles before the hockey team starts running exercises, tearing through the ice with their abrupt stops and deep edges.

Eventually, you give up trying to squeeze in practice and just skate around the rink with Petra, staying out of the hockey players’ way.

“I’m annoyed,” Petra pouts. “I wanted your help on my double axel.”

You shrug. “They’ll get off like thirty minutes before practice so they can gear up.”

“But the ice will be ruined!” Petra whines.

You laugh at her valid complaints. “Well, if you can learn to land a double axel on shitty ice, think about how well you’ll do in competition with fresh ice.”

Petra visibly debates your logic for a moment before nodding. “I can try.”

You’re about to suggest a break for hot chocolate and a protein bar when you hear, “Oh shit!” and something solid collides into you.

Arms wrap around your waist, and you turn mid-fall, your back pressed against firm muscle of someone’s chest as you go sliding across the ice.

“What the fuck?” you ask as the arms release you to roll onto the ice.

You look over to see Levi Ackerman himself, captain of the hockey team, groaning as he pulls himself off the ice. “For someone who looks as good as you do in tights, you sure weigh more than you look.”

You sit up, glaring at his smug expression. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying,” he mutters, getting to his feet. He extends a hand out to you to help you up and you swat it away, getting up yourself.

“Can you watch where the fuck you’re going?” you ask him bitterly.

“Can you? You know we’re running drills,” Levi says, crossing his arms at your rejection of his assistance.

“I was skating forward! You hit me from behind!” you protest. “How am I supposed to watch out when you sneak up on me?”

“Pay attention, princess,” Levi says mockingly. “It’s not just your ice.”

You’re absolutely fuming, ready to unleash on him, when you feel Petra’s hand on your arm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, noticing the snow in your hair.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, looking away from Levi’s piercing blue eyes. “Jackass knocked me off my feet.”

“Jackass?” Levi questions, irritation shining through his expression.

“Yeah,” you say emphatically. “Jackass. I think it’s perfect to describe you. Or do you prefer Captain Jackass?”

“Bitch,” he mutters, skating away back to his team who are carefully watching the interaction.

“Fucking hockey players,” you grumble to Petra, who loops her arm through yours as you start to skate around the rink again. “Think they own the ice. It’s not even time for their practice and they’re running drills, terrorizing the public skaters.”

“Yeah,” she says, unconvincingly. “Jerks. But hey, at least he broke your fall, right?”

You turn to look at her, mouth parted open in shock. “Seriously? He slammed into me from behind and you’re giving him brownie points for not knocking me unconscious?”

“Well,” Petra says sheepishly. “I saw him turn so that he fell against the ice and didn’t fall on top of you. He was going pretty fast.”

You press your mouth into a line, shaking your head. “You’re a simp, you know that? An Ackerman simp. He could burn this rink down and you’d still justify it, fawning over him.”

Petra protests and you giggle at her poorly crafted excuses. You shake your head, pulling her off the ice to the lobby, where it’s warm and loud.

“Hey,” your boss says, waving at you from the rental counter. “I know it’s not your day for Learn to Skate, but we need coverage on Saturday. Can you do it?”

“Miche, come on!” you whine, sighing dramatically. “I work two of the three sessions every week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. One day more than my contract actually says, because I’m so generous and nice.”

“It’s just the tots,” he says, eyes pleading.

“Miche, no!” you exclaim, unable to help the smile spreading across your face. “You know I hate teaching the little ones.”

“Come on,” he says. “I booked a trip out of town for Nanaba and I’s anniversary and I totally forgot she’s on Saturday rotation. Please, help me woo my wife and preserve my marriage.”

“Miche, you’re really a piece of work,” you sigh. “You know I can’t say no to helping my coach.”

“I knew there was a reason you’re Nanaba’s favorite,” he says with a smile. “Thank you so much!”

“You owe me!” you call over your shoulder, walking over to the viewing bench. “Man, I can’t believe I have to cover the tots. I hate that shit.”

“But they’re so cute,” Petra protests.

You groan at her utter betrayal. “No, they aren’t! They fall and cry, and cry and fall, for almost an hour. It’s horrible. I finally worked my way out of teaching tots.”

“It’s just one Saturday,” Petra consoles. “Plus, I’m on Saturdays too! We can get lunch after.”

You pout your lips out at her. “Fine. We can get lunch.”

Your blood is pumping as you skate down the rink, edges ripping into the ice as you precisely carve delicate swirls with your blades. Loud techno music plays over the speakers as you skate, all in perfect synchronicity with the other skaters as you do footwork.

“Faster!” Coach Pixis is sitting on the boards at the side of the rink, sipping from a water bottle that certainly isn’t filled with water.

You reach the goal line and circle back to run the same footwork back down the way you came. Power class continues like this for another twenty minutes until Pixis finally dismisses you, calling it “slightly less than abysmal this time”.

As he swings his legs over the boards to walk back to the lobby, you collapse onto the ice, chest heaving. Your best friend peers at you from where she stops beside you, eyes curious.

“You alright?” she asks, out of breath herself. Petra’s face is flushed after thirty minutes of on-ice cardio.

“So...sweaty,” you groan, enjoying the feeling of the cold against your overly warm skin. “Cold feels good.”

“You’re in a tank top, you’ll get ice burn if you don’t get up,” Petra chides. “Come on, it’s almost time for hockey practice anyway.”

You reach up a hand and she pulls you to your feet. You brush the snow off of your leggings and tell her you’ll catch up, grabbing your jacket and water bottle from the boards.

The hockey players spill onto the ice, immediately skating laps at high speed forward and backward around the rink, warming up. You purse your lips, annoyed that they couldn’t wait another fifteen seconds for you to grab your shit and get off, instead making it nearly impossible for you to reach the exit closest to the coach’s room, meaning you now have to walk around the entire rink from the bench.

You decide to wait them out, annoyed with their crappy behavior. You lean against the boards, your things in your arms, for the full five minutes, watching them, making eye contact, waving at one or two that you know.

They run laps until Commander Erwin calls for them to line up on the blue line in front of him. When he does, you leisurely skate behind the group of men to get off at the exit you wanted.

They all turn around to watch you, evidently surprised you didn’t chew them out like usual for doing this. You smile at them, your eyes finding Levi’s from where he’s smirking at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and exit the ice, feeling him watch you until you disappear behind the bleachers.

Petra is inside the coach’s room already, unlacing her skates as she sits in her assigned chair. You sit in your spot next to her, following suit.

“Ugh, did you see Levi?”

You roll your eyes at Petra’s simpering expression and wide, hazel eyes.

“Why are you such a simp for him? For any hockey player? They’re dicks and they smell bad,” you complain.

“Not Levi,” she says with a dreamy look on her face. “Remember? He helped me when I cut my hand.”

“He wrapped a dirty hockey rag around your hand and told you to stop bleeding on his ice,” you say flatly. “He’s not exactly a knight in shining armor.”

Petra continues on, dithering about how Levi is, in fact, kind of an asshole but if you look past his harsh words, sour attitude, huge ego, and generally rude demeanor, there’s probably a decent guy in there. Yeah, okay.

You slip on your tennis shoes and pull Petra out to the lobby, grabbing a Gatorade and a protein bar from the concession stand.

“Let’s sit on the bleachers,” Petra says, trying to be nonchalant.

“Because we don’t spend enough time here, let’s go watch the hockey players on our break?” you ask sarcastically.

But it’s hard to say no to Petra, with her wide eyes and pouty lips. So you cave, agreeing to go sit on the bleachers, grateful for the cool metal against your back as you lay against the bench. Petra sits at attention, watching the players skate up and down the ice, practicing formations and plays.

“He’s looking over here!” she practically squeals.

You roll your eyes, scrolling through Spotify for a bass-laden playlist to mentally prepare for spending an hour with the tots later this morning.

There’s a loud crash against the boards and you jump, nearly falling off the bench. You shoot up, glaring at the plexiglass, behind which stands a smug Levi Ackerman, smirking at you. He raises an eyebrow at you and shrugs, feigning innocence. How mature, hitting the boards to startle you.

Petra gives you a sidelong glance, a slight furrow in her brows as you roll your eyes at Levi who’s wiggling the fingers in his glove in a semblance of wave. For which you return a middle finger, setting off a round of laughs between his teammates.

You look over at her with a raised eyebrow, wondering what she’s so concerned about, but she shakes her head and turns back to face the ice, eyes watching intently as they start running drills.

Later, you teach the tots a fun fishing game, where they pull out fish from the ‘pond’ you drew on the ice with a marker, and then you teach them how to skate away according to the type of fish they caught. It’s nearly time to go, and the class has been surprisingly smooth.

However, as your last student pulls out a “big fish! So big and scary!”, and you all skate backwards away from it, doing swizzles on their unsteady little feet, your smallest skater falls.

Oh fuck, here we go.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, lip trembling as he clutches his hand to his chest. He’s two feet tall, you know he’s fine, but he thinks he’s hurt, so you let out a quiet sigh and kneel next to him.

“Oh bud, that was a big fall,” you say empathetically, pulling off your gloves and taking his ‘injured’ hand between yours. “You did great though.”

“I did?” he asks tearfully, clearly wanting to have a huge meltdown but also wanting to hold it together to earn your praise.

“You did,” you confirm with a nod. “You know what I do when I hurt myself from falling? I take a big deep breath, and I shake the ouch out. Have you ever done that?”

He shakes his head no, eyes wide, and you smile at him, a little charmed by his chubby cheeks.

“Hey, isn’t that the chick you nearly took out on public the other day?” Eren nods to the ice as he throws his bag over his shoulder coming out of the locker room. “Is she a coach?”

Levi looks over and sees you kneeling down on the ice, holding the hands of a tot who must have taken a fall. He watches you shake out your hands, and the little boy imitates you. You throw your head back to laugh at the boy’s enthusiasm, quickly wiggling his whole body, and take his hand to pull him back to the other tots who have been watching curiously.

You lead them in a line that snakes around the designated area until you reach the door of the rink, making sure they all get off and into the waiting arms of their parents.

He catches your eye, thinking about how pretty you look when you aren’t flipping him off or cussing him out. You give him a hesitant smile before you’re pulled into a conversation with one of the parents.

Eren is looking at him, mouth open as he watches Levi watch you. “Uh, hello?”

Levi looks at him blandly. “Yeah, yeah. She must be a coach if she’s teaching Learn to Skate.”

Eren raises an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’re down bad. For a figure skating coach, of all people.”

“Fuck off, Yeager,” Levi says, pushing him into the wall as he heads for the doors.

[rinabin]

dance practice

“fucking seunghan,” you mutter under your breath, turning down yet another hallway. hearing the lack of loud obnoxious music, you realize you’ve gone the wrong way for the third time. groaning internally, you question why you’d tried to find this place yourself instead of simply asking the front desk. and of course seunghan had to not answer his phone at this very moment. granted he was probably practicing but hey!!!! you're a girl struggling in this maze that they called the dance building, you're allowed to be mad.

just as you’re about to take another step, you hear someone calling your name. whipping your head around expecting seunghan to come save you, you see another pair of eyes blinking at you instead.

“wonbin?” you say, surprised. 

wonbin gives you a small wave as he walks up. “what are you doing here? i’ve never seen you around the studio before” he asks.

explaining the dilemma you’re in, wonbin presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. you pause mid sentence and narrow your eyes at him, “so you think my suffering is funny?”

“no i would never think that,” he says with mock innocence. before you can retort, wonbin offers, “ i’m actually meeting them. you wanna walk together?” you nod, silently thanking wonbin for saving you from yourself.

a silence follows the two of you as you walk through the halls of the dance studio. taking in your environment, you try to memorize the correct turns and corners refusing to be embarrassed like this again.

“how’s daisy?” wonbin asks, catching you off guard.

“huh?” 

“daisy,” he repeats, with a grin, “how is she? i need to make sure i left her in good hands.”

you stare at him, deadpan, “you’re asking me how a stuffed animal is doing?”

wonbin lets out a side smile, “she’s your daughter isn’t she?" 

deciding to play along, you respond, “she’s very well, no thanks to you,” giving him a playful side eye. 

wonbin lets out a scoff, dramatically bringing his hand to his chest, “yn! how are you insult me like this? i literally birthed her.”

"shut up,” you softly shove him with your shoulder walking alongside him.

“soooooooooo, do you dance?” you question.

“not professionally like taro”, wonbin clarifies, “but i do enjoy it. i drop in sometimes when he’s practicing to blow off some steam.” he opens the studio door for you, “we’re here”. 

spotting seunghan, you immediately make a beeline towards him. “hey yn- ow what the hell!” seunghan exclaims as you lightly smack the back of his head. 

“that’s for not answering my texts and leaving me to fend for myself in this maze” you huff out. seunghan, confused opens his bag to see the 50 messages you left him on his phone.

“oh my god yn. i am so sorry, i left my phone on dnd” he apologies. "at least you made it here,” seunghan meekly adds.

rolling your eyes for dramatics, you hand him his wallet. observing the studio as seunghan packs his wallet, you see shotaro drinking water. you shyly raise your hand as a greeting, which he returns with a smile and a nod. next to him, you spot wonbin taking off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that showcase his defined arm muscles. feeling your face get warm at the sight, you quickly look back down at seunghan who is still ruffling through his bag. watching him scramble through his bag, you let him know you’re going to head out.

“wait, no don’t go.” seunghan exclaims, standing up from his bag. “we’re gonna go for lunch after. come with us. it’s on me”.

toying with the straps of your jacket, you mumble that you don’t want to be an intrusion. seunghan reassures you that you won’t be, looking over to shotaro for backup. shotaro agrees, encouraging you to stay while wonbin adds a soft “stay” in support. you meet his eyes - maybe for a moment too long - before turning back at seunghan. 

“okay”, you whisper as you slide down to get settled on the floor. as you put your stuff away, you make eye contact with wonbin once again. he meets your gaze with a gentle expression, definitelyyyyyy not leaving you with butterflies in your chest.

masterlist

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a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays!!! hope u all enjoy my gift to u <3

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added]: @antosaurius@jkeydiary@cherrytaesan@dorritoni@profoundruinsunknown @daegale @choc0br3ad

[dollyrins]

　　　⁰¹ ─── THiRTEEN

　𓍼　　au — best-friend ! atsumu x gn ! reader

　𓍼　　fic type — marriage pact, angst, a splash of fluff

　𓍼　　warning — 1 mention of bile

　𓍼　　word count — 583

　𓍼　　rav's notes — inspired by the amazing fic "Backup Wife" by @.fueledbysano

“Atsumu this is stupid,” you said. 

“No it’s not, it makes complete sense,” the boy argued back. 

“We’re both 13. Why would we need a marriage pact?” you said looking at him unamused. 

“So we won’t end up alone, old, and wrinkly,” he said, “now hold up your pinky.” 

Rolling your eyes you do as you’re told. Linking your pinkies together, you both whisper a hushed promise that was seemingly pointless at that time, “We promise to get married by the age of 30 if we’re still single.” 

Opening your eyes you see Atsumu’s face with his eyes still closed as a tiny smile rested on his lips. “You know this isn’t how a proper marriage pact works right?” you asked. 

“Yeah I know, but a promise is enough for me,” he said smiling. 

☆ — ★

You give a small smile as you see Atsumu standing at the end of the altar through the window.

He fusses with his suit, finger doing up the buttons and undoing them again and Osamu has to slap his hands away, making him grumble.

You think Atsumu’s suit fit him perfectly, and combined with his grin when Suna makes a joke about someone attending, it makes him look nothing less than perfect. 

He looks hauntingly beautiful. 

Soft music starts to play through the speakers and as the door opens his eyes land on you walking through.

Immediately a smile etches onto his face as his heart calms down. He has an urge to walk towards you and hug you as tightly as he can.

With slow measured steps you walk in his direction, and he gives you a soft smile and you return. Unshed tears cling to your lash line waiting to be set free. 

Finally you reach your seat that happens to be just so close to the altar, and you think the universe is playing a cruel joke on you when the couple close by whispers to each other how lucky his wife-to-be-was.

Your hands are clenched into fists on your lap, mercifully hidden by the table. Your eyes wander over to the 29 year old waiting for his bride and your heart aches more. Then the tune of a familiar song starts to play.

Everyone’s heads turn to look at the future Miya walking in. She looks like an angel descended onto Earth, you decide. Her white gown flows beautifully as she takes careful steps towards her love. 

There’s a smile full of love on her face and once you take a glance at your best friend you notice the matching on his. It’s so different yet so similar to the one he gave you.

When she finally reached his side you felt bile rise up in your throat. You curse the gods for making you an audience member and not the one who was going to marry Atsumu. 

Why couldn’t it be you? Why was the world so cruel for not giving you the hand of the man you ached to have since you were 13? Why couldn’t it be you who made his eyes light up? Why were you left heartbroken?

See this was the messy thing about marriage pacts. If one half of the whole found a better fit it would go there. But what about the second half? All it could do was wish to find someone for itself.

But you don’t think you ever will. Because Atsumu Miya was the one you wanted. Even if it tore you apart in every way. Even though you couldn’t ever have him.

© dollyrins do not plagiarize, translate, copy, repost my writing anywhere

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night - Part 3

Masterlist

You and Louis continue to navigate your pregnancy and relationship together.

Tags: Louis x reader, a lot more fluff, smutty smut too

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

…

The morning is unbearable. It’s not the nausea or fatigue this time, but something far more insidious. You’re hot, your skin tingling, and it seems like everything the boys do only makes it worse.

Louis lounges on the couch in the green room, his t-shirt riding up slightly as he scrolls through his phone. You can’t help but notice the way his muscles shift beneath the fabric, the curve of his shoulders—God, how do you never notice these things?

Harry sits nearby, running a hand through his damp curls, fresh from the shower. You catch the glint of water droplets clinging to his neck, and your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t. Niall is eating an apple, his jaw working in a way that you definitely don’t need to pay attention to.

Meanwhile, Liam stretches his arms above his head, his t-shirt tightening across his chest, and Zayn just stands there with his quiet, composed presence that somehow still draws your gaze.

Shit. You’re a walking hormonal disaster.

You sit stiffly on the armchair, gripping a book as though it’s your last defense, though you haven’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. Every little movement or sound seems to draw your attention: Louis laughing softly, Niall humming a tune, Harry leaning back with that lazy, confident smile.

You try to focus, but everything feels so... different.

“Y/N?” Louis’s voice pulls you back to reality, and you blink at him in confusion.

“What?” you say, a bit too sharply.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

“Fine,” you reply quickly, burying your face in your book, but you can feel his eyes on you, and it only makes everything worse.

“Sure, she’s fine,” Niall says, his voice full of teasing skepticism. “Look at her, gripping that book like it’s her last defense.”

You glare at him. “Shut up, Niall.”

“Someone’s snappy,” Harry says, smirking as he leans forward. “What’s got you so worked up?”

You groan internally, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing’s got me worked up.”

“Sure,” Zayn adds with a knowing look, his sharp gaze catching yours. “You’re red as a tomato, love.”

“I’m not!” you snap, but your protest only makes them all chuckle.

Louis tilts his head, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “She’s definitely flustered. Wonder why…”

“Maybe it’s the hormones?” Liam offers, shrugging. “I read that they can make you… you know, extra emotional. Or, uh… other things.”

That’s when it hits the rest of them, and you can see the realization dawn on their faces.

“Ohhhh,” Niall says, drawing out the word with a mischievous grin. “So that’s what’s going on.”

“It’s not,” you lie quickly, your voice high-pitched and unconvincing.

Harry laughs, leaning back in his chair. “It totally is. You’ve been eyeing us all morning, haven’t you?”

You freeze, looking between the boys, all smirking now. “I have not!”

Louis raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Even me, love?”

“Especially you!” Niall chimes in, earning a sharp glare from you.

“You’ve been checking us all out, huh?” Zayn adds, crossing his arms with a knowing, amused look.

You feel the heat in your cheeks turn up several notches. “I’m not—”

“Don’t worry, love,” Niall says, a wink in his voice. “We’re all here for you.”

“You are?” you snap, trying to sound exasperated, but even you can hear the breathiness in your voice.

Louis leans forward, his smirk replaced by something softer. “I mean, if you need help with anything... you know, I’m happy to step in.”

Your heart skips, but you roll your eyes, trying to keep your cool. “Oh yeah? You think you’re gonna help me out, Lou?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice suddenly low, teasing. “I think I can help you out.”

“You guys are impossible,” you mutter, standing abruptly to make your exit.

But before you can reach the door, Louis is right behind you, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you back toward him. “Hey, I’m serious,” he says quietly, his smirk now replaced with something genuine, something soft. “If you need anything, I’ve got you. Anything at all.”

You can’t help it. The moment Louis pulls you closer, the warmth of his body against yours, his breath against your skin—it all feels too much, but in the best way possible. Your body hums with anticipation, your nerves buzzing with an energy that you can’t seem to shake.

Louis smiles down at you, his hands resting lightly on your hips, the touch warm and comforting but undeniably charged. He knows, as much as you do, where this is heading.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice husky, his thumb stroking along your lower back in slow, soothing circles.

You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the growing tension between you. “I’m fine. Just... been thinking about this all day.”

His eyes darken slightly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What, me?”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”

“I definitely noticed,” he grins, then leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve been looking at me all day like you wanna pounce.”

You shiver at the low tone of his voice, feeling the heat pool in your stomach. “Well, I’m not gonna wait any longer.”

Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway that leads to the more private part of the venue, away from prying eyes. The adrenaline and heat coursing through your veins make you bold.

Louis follows you, a smile playing on his lips, but there's something in his eyes—something that makes your heart beat faster, the anticipation almost unbearable. “You sure about this?”

You stop in the hallway, pressing your back against the cool wall, your breath coming faster. “I need this. I need you.”

It’s heated, messy, and full of pent-up desire. His hands slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground as you wrap your legs around him, the two of you moving instinctively toward the nearest private space.

When you reach a small, unused room, Louis kicks the door shut behind you with his foot, his hands already tugging at your clothes. You don’t stop him. You’re desperate for him, for the closeness, for the way your bodies mesh together like it was always meant to be this way.

His hands roam your body, firm but reverent, sliding over your waist, your hips, your thighs. You’re already tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours. He lets out a low groan as you manage to pull it over his head, and the sight of his bare chest makes your pulse race.

“God, I need you,” he mutters, his voice rough as he presses you back against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a blazing path in their wake.

“Then take me,” you breathe, your fingers tangling in his hair as your back arches instinctively, your body pressing closer to his.

Louis lets out a low, needy sound, his hands sliding under your shirt to lift it over your head. He pauses for a second, his eyes roaming over you, dark with desire. “You’re stunning,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and the sincerity in his tone sends a rush of warmth through you.

You don’t have time to respond before he’s kissing you again, his hands fumbling to remove the rest of your clothes as yours do the same to his. The cool air against your skin is nothing compared to the heat radiating between you, and when his hands grip your thighs, lifting you, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

The hard press of the door against your back contrasts with the softness of his lips, the roughness of his hands as he holds you steady. He pauses for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting as the tension between you reaches its peak.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky but laced with concern.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling but certain. “Please, Louis.”

That’s all it takes. He shifts, his hands guiding you into position, and then he’s pushing into you with a slow, deliberate movement that makes you gasp.

The sensation is overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely, his body fitting perfectly with yours. He stays still for a moment, his hands gripping your hips as he presses his forehead against yours.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groans, his voice strained as he starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a rhythm that has you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

The pace is unhurried at first, almost teasing, but it doesn’t take long for the desperation to take over. The rhythm becomes faster, more urgent, your bodies moving together as if they were made for this.

The room is filled with the sound of heavy breaths, muffled moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Your hands find his hair, tugging gently as your head falls back, a gasp escaping your lips as he hits just the right spot.

“Louis,” you whimper, your voice shaky as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable level.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection as he grips you tighter, his movements becoming even more precise, more deliberate.

You can feel the tension coiling in your stomach, the heat spreading through your body as you approach the edge. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and when you finally tip over, the pleasure crashes over you in waves, leaving you trembling in his arms.

Louis isn’t far behind, his movements becoming erratic as he groans your name, his body shuddering against yours as he finds his release. He holds you tightly, his face buried in your neck, both of you catching your breath as the aftershocks ripple through you.

For a moment, the only sound is your breathing, the quiet intimacy of the moment sinking in as he gently lowers you to your feet. His hands stay on your waist, steadying you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you rest your forehead against his. “Better than okay.”

He grins, that familiar mischief returning to his expression. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you just yet.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest, but the warmth in his gaze and the way he’s still holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world—it’s enough to make your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

...

You and Louis sneak back into the green room, trying your best to look composed, but the slight flush in your cheeks and the way Louis’ hand lingers on the small of your back make it impossible to hide what just happened.

Niall is the first to notice. He’s sprawled across one of the couches, scrolling on his phone, but his eyes flick up as you walk in. His lips immediately twitch into a knowing smirk. “Well, don’t you two look... refreshed.”

Louis scoffs, but his grin gives him away. “We’re just fine, thanks.”

“Sure, mate,” Harry pipes up from the other side of the room, his legs draped over an armchair. “You’ve got that smug post-shag glow. It’s practically blinding.”

Your face burns, and you swat at Louis’ chest. “Couldn’t you have waited until we were far, far away from them?” you mutter under your breath.

Louis only shrugs, his arm slipping around your waist. “What can I say? You were irresistible.”

Zayn glances up from where he’s fiddling with a guitar pick, his brow raised. “You two do realize we all know, yeah? You’re not exactly subtle.”

Liam clears his throat, leaning forward from his spot near the mini-fridge. “Honestly, I think we’d all appreciate a bit more subtlety. This is a shared space.”

The teasing is relentless, and despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the embarrassed laugh that escapes you. “Okay, okay! We get it. You’ve all made your point.”

“Just one more thing,” Harry adds, his grin downright wicked. “You might wanna check your hair, love. It’s a bit... tousled.”

You groan, running a hand over your head while Louis glares playfully at Harry. “Oi, leave her alone,” he says, tugging you closer. “She’s already been through enough dealing with you lot.”

“Dealing with us?” Niall scoffs, feigning offense. “Pretty sure she’s got her hands full dealing with you.”

The room erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but join in, despite your embarrassment. Louis presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “Don’t worry, love. They’re just jealous.”

You glance up at him, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “If this is what jealousy looks like, I think I’ll survive.”

The playful banter continues as you and Louis settle onto one of the couches, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. For all the teasing, there’s an undeniable warmth in the way the boys interact with you both—a silent show of acceptance and affection.

And for a moment, in the midst of their laughter and your quiet contentment, everything feels perfectly right.

...

You’re sitting on one of the speaker cases at the edge of the stage, sipping on a bottle of water and watching the boys rehearse. The soundcheck is in full swing, and Louis is front and center, mic in hand, as he belts out the final chorus of one of their songs. His voice is strong and warm, and you can’t help but smile.

It’s been a good day so far. You’ve felt more energized than usual, and being back on stage—even if you’re just sitting there—makes you feel like part of the band again.

Then it happens.

A strange, fluttering sensation low in your belly. It’s soft at first, almost like bubbles or a gentle nudge from the inside. You freeze, your hand instinctively pressing against your bump. The sensation comes again, a little stronger this time, and your breath catches.

The baby.

The baby just kicked.

“Everything alright over there, love?” Louis calls, noticing the stunned look on your face. He’s stopped singing now, the rest of the boys turning to look at you with concern.

You blink, a smile slowly spreading across your face as you wave them off. “I’m fine!”

But Louis isn’t convinced. He hops off the stage, jogging over to you with the mic still in hand. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice laced with worry.

You grab his hand and place it on your belly without a word. For a moment, nothing happens. His brow furrows, and he opens his mouth to say something, but then—there it is.

The baby kicks again, this time against Louis’ hand.

His eyes widen, his jaw dropping as he stares at you. “Was that…?”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yeah. That was him.”

Louis lets out a breathy laugh, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “He kicked. He actually kicked!”

“Wait, what?” Niall’s voice cuts through, and suddenly all the boys are rushing over, crowding around you with wide eyes and eager grins.

“Did the baby just kick?” Harry asks, practically bouncing on his heels.

“Yes, but one at a time!” you laugh, overwhelmed by their excitement.

“Lemme feel!” Niall says, reaching out before Louis swats his hand away.

“Oi, back off!” Louis says with a smirk, still keeping his hand firmly on your belly. “This is my moment.”

“Don’t be selfish, mate,” Zayn jokes, nudging Louis with his shoulder.

Liam kneels next to you, his voice soft. “How did it feel?”

“Like a little flutter at first,” you explain, still smiling through your tears. “Then it got stronger. It’s the weirdest and most amazing thing.”

Louis leans down, his face inches from your bump now. “Hey, little man. That was a good kick. You’re gonna be a footballer like your dad, huh?”

“Or a dancer!” Niall suggests, earning a laugh from the group.

The boys are all talking over each other now, making jokes and suggestions for the baby’s future, but you’re only focused on Louis. He’s still crouched in front of you, his hand on your bump and the softest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

He looks up at you, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “I can’t believe we made him.”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, brushing a tear off your cheek. “Me neither.”

In that moment, with the sound of the boys’ laughter and the warmth of Louis’ hand on your belly, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

…

The tour bus hums steadily beneath your feet, the low vibration doing nothing to ease the persistent ache in your lower back. You shift in your seat at the small dining table, propping a pillow behind you in an attempt to get comfortable. But at 22 weeks pregnant, it doesn’t help.

“Ugh, this sucks,” you mutter, pushing the pillow onto the floor in frustration. “I swear this baby is doing gymnastics in there.”

Louis looks up from his phone, his brows furrowing in concern. “You alright, love?”

“No, Louis, I’m not alright,” you snap, immediately feeling guilty but too irritable to rein it in. “I’m sore, I’m tired, I feel like a whale, and this bloody bus is making me dizzy. Can we just get off already?”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he gets up and crosses to your side, sliding onto the bench next to you. “Hey, hey,” he says softly, his hand finding your knee. “Take a deep breath, yeah? We’ll sort it.”

You roll your eyes. “You keep saying that, but unless you’ve got a magic wand hidden somewhere, I doubt it.”

“You never know,” he quips, trying to coax a smile from you. “I might surprise you.”

Across the bus, Niall looks up from his guitar, his expression cautious. “Did you eat this morning? Could be why you’re feeling dizzy.”

You glare at him, though it’s half-hearted. “I tried, okay? Nothing sounded good. And when I did eat, I felt like I was going to puke.”

“Right,” Louis interjects, standing abruptly and tugging you to your feet. “That’s it. We’re handling this now.”

“Louis, what are you doing?” you demand, but he’s already steering you toward the back lounge where Liam, Harry, and Zayn are sprawled out.

“She’s feeling like crap,” Louis announces as he marches you inside, ignoring your protests. “We’re fixing it. Ideas?”

Liam sits up straighter, his brows knitting. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you snap before immediately contradicting yourself. “No, I’m not fine. Everything hurts, and I’m sick of being treated like I’m breakable.”

“Whoa, okay,” Zayn says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Nobody’s saying you’re breakable.”

“Really? Because all of you have been acting like I can’t handle anything lately!” you retort, crossing your arms.

Harry exchanges a look with Liam, then stands up. “Alright, how about this: I’ll make you some tea. Ginger or mint might help with the queasiness.”

“Tea isn’t going to fix everything,” you mutter, though your tone softens slightly.

“Maybe not, but it’s a start,” Harry replies, his voice calm.

“Foot rub,” Zayn suggests, leaning back lazily but giving you a small smile. “That’s my go-to for stress. Works wonders.”

Liam nods. “Or some light stretches. I can guide you through a few if you’re up for it.”

Louis cuts them all off with a wave of his hand. “Tea first, then foot rub, then stretches,” he declares.

You roll your eyes again, but this time it’s accompanied by a reluctant smile. “You lot are ridiculous.”

“And you’re stuck with us,” Niall calls from the front, grinning cheekily.

By the time Harry hands you a steaming mug of tea, Louis has settled you onto the couch, propping your feet up on a pillow. He sits at the other end, pulling one of your feet into his lap and beginning to massage it with firm, practiced movements.

The relief is immediate, and you let out a soft sigh despite yourself. “Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“Told you we’d sort it,” Louis says smugly, his grin infectious.

As the boys continue to fuss over you—Harry adjusting your tea, Zayn offering snacks, and Liam jotting down stretching tips—you feel your frustration start to ebb away. The soreness remains, but the unwavering care and attention of the boys remind you that you’re not alone in this.

Louis leans down to press a kiss to your ankle, his touch tender. “Anything else, love?”

“No,” you murmur, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. “This is... good. Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says softly, his gaze steady. “Always.”

And as you look around at the boys—your family—you realize that even on your worst days, you’re in the best hands.

...

You sit cross-legged on the couch in the green room, arms folded over your chest as the muffled sound of the band’s soundcheck seeps through the walls. It’s not like you don’t understand why they insisted you sit this one out. You’re twenty-four weeks along, your feet are perpetually swollen, and exhaustion seems to be your constant companion. But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re part of the band, not some sidelined spectator.

The door creaks open, and Niall pokes his head in. “Hey, you alright in here?”

You glance up, plastering on a weak smile. “Yeah, just resting. Like everyone’s so keen on reminding me.”

He frowns, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “C’mon, it’s not like that. We’re just looking out for you and the baby.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your belly absentmindedly. “It’s just... I miss being out there. I miss being part of it.”

“You’re still part of it,” he says firmly, sitting down beside you. “The boys wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t feel like it. I mean, I get why they’re being careful, but every time I have to sit something out, it feels like I’m losing pieces of myself.”

Before Niall can respond, the door opens again, and Louis walks in, his face lighting up the second he sees you. “There’s my girl.”

“Hey,” you mumble, your voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

Louis narrows his eyes as he sits on the arm of the couch. “Alright, what’s wrong?”

“She’s feeling left out,” Niall supplies, earning a glare from you.

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” you snap, though the edge in your voice is more from frustration than anger.

Louis tilts his head, watching you carefully. “Left out, huh? You do realize you’re the heart of this band, yeah? Baby or no baby, that hasn’t changed.”

“It feels like it’s changing,” you admit quietly. “Like this pregnancy is slowly taking me away from everything I love.”

Louis slides off the arm and crouches in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. “Listen to me. You’re not being taken away from anything. This—” he nods at your belly “—isn’t the end of something. It’s the beginning. And yeah, it’s gonna be different, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less a part of us.”

“Exactly,” Niall chimes in, grinning. “You’re stuck with us. Pregnant or not.”

Louis reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You’re still our chaos queen. Don’t think for a second we’d let you go anywhere. And if you need to yell at us now and then to remind us of that, go ahead. We can take it.”

You let out a soft laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter. “I do miss yelling at you guys.”

“Good,” Louis says with a smirk. “Means you’re still you.”

“Now,” Niall says, clapping his hands and standing up. “How about we smuggle you a snack from catering? Soundcheck’ll be done soon, and then it’s showtime.”

You smile as Louis leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his voice low and warm. “We’ve got you, love. Always.”

And for the first time that day, you truly believe it.

...

The arena vibrates with energy as you glide across the stage, microphone in hand. At 26 weeks pregnant, performing has become more challenging, but you refuse to let that stop you. Singing with the boys keeps you grounded, reminding you that you’re still part of the band.

But tonight, something feels off.

It starts as a dull ache low in your abdomen, then shifts to a sharper, more persistent pain. You grit your teeth and push through, determined not to draw attention to yourself. Louis’ voice cuts through the music, full of charisma as always, but even his reassuring presence can’t distract you from the discomfort building inside you.

As the next song begins, the pain intensifies, and a wave of dizziness crashes over you. You falter mid-step, your hand instinctively going to your bump.

Louis notices immediately. His eyes widen, and he steps closer, his voice momentarily dropping out of the harmony.

You lean into the mic, your voice shaky. “I—I need a moment,” you manage before turning and heading offstage, gripping the wall for support as you navigate the wings.

“Y/N?” Louis’ voice is urgent behind you. Within seconds, he’s at your side, helping you into a chair. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“It hurts,” you whisper, wincing as another cramp grips you. “It’s my stomach—I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Louis kneels in front of you, his hands hovering protectively over your bump. “Stay with me, love. Just breathe, yeah?”

Back on stage, Harry notices the commotion and steps up to the mic. “We’re going to take a quick break, everyone,” he says smoothly, though concern flickers in his eyes. “We’ll be back soon.”

As the crowd murmurs, Niall and Liam rush backstage, their faces etched with worry.

“Y/N?” Niall’s voice is gentle as he crouches beside you. “What’s going on?”

“She’s in pain,” Louis answers, his jaw tight. “We need the medic.”

Liam is already flagging down a crew member, who hurries off to fetch help.

The medic arrives moments later, their presence calming as they kneel beside you. “Tell me what’s going on,” they say, their tone reassuring as they check your pulse and gently press on your bump.

“It’s like cramps,” you say, biting your lip. “And I got really lightheaded.”

After a few moments of examination, the medic looks up. “It seems like growing pains,” they explain. “Your body’s stretching to accommodate the baby, and you’re probably a bit dehydrated. I don’t think it’s labor or anything serious, but you need to rest.”

Louis exhales sharply, his relief evident. “Rest. Got it.” He turns to you, his tone firm but gentle. “You’re sitting out the rest of the concert.”

“No,” you protest weakly. “I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Love,” Louis says, his voice low but resolute. “I’m not asking.”

“Louis is right,” Niall chimes in, his hand on your shoulder. “We’ve got this covered. You need to take care of yourself and the baby.”

Liam nods in agreement. “The fans will understand.”

Reluctantly, you nod, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You could never let us down,” Louis says softly, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll finish the show. You just rest, yeah?”

The boys head back to the stage, and you’re left backstage with a blanket draped over your lap, sipping water and trying to breathe through the soreness. As Louis’ voice carries through the arena, you close your eyes, grateful for him—and for the little life growing inside you.

…

The crowd’s cheers echo through the arena as the boys take their positions on stage. You’re seated at the edge of the platform, where they’ve set up a comfortable chair. Despite your protests, they’ve insisted you sit for the remainder of the tour performances to keep you and the baby safe.

It’s hard not to feel sidelined, but the boys go out of their way to make sure you’re still part of the magic.

As Niall picks up his acoustic guitar for the next song, he glances back at you and grins. “Mind if I join you for this one, love?”

“Of course not,” you say, smiling despite yourself.

He hops down from the stage and plops onto the floor beside you, guitar in hand. The intimate sound of the strings fills the air as he strums the opening chords of Little Things. He leans into his headset, his voice soft and soothing as he begins to sing.

The audience swoons, and you can’t help but laugh as he nudges you with his shoulder mid-song. “Still got the best seat in the house,” he teases, his eyes twinkling.

Before you can respond, Louis saunters over during a break between songs, pulling you into a quick side hug. “You’re not bored over here, are you?” he asks, his voice warm and teasing.

“Not when I’ve got Niall serenading me,” you reply with a smirk.

Louis rolls his eyes dramatically. “Figures. Always stealing my thunder.”

“You’re free to sit here too, mate,” Niall quips, patting the ground on your other side.

“Tempting,” Louis says, his hand drifting to your bump for a brief rub. “But I’ve got a show to finish. Keep her company, yeah?”

“Always,” Niall says, strumming a playful tune on his guitar.

Harry and Liam check in between songs too, taking turns to chat or joke with you, making sure you don’t feel left out. Zayn even tosses you a wink from across the stage at one point, which earns cheers from the crowd.

By the time the concert ends, your cheeks ache from smiling. The boys come offstage, sweaty and energized, but each one of them makes a point to check on you before anything else.

“How’re you holding up?” Louis asks, crouching in front of you.

“I’m good,” you say, your heart full. “Better than good. Thank you for keeping me part of this.”

Louis leans in to kiss your forehead. “You’ll always be part of this, love. You and the little one. Always.”

…

You sit backstage, legs crossed and bouncing impatiently as the boys rehearse. It’s been a long morning, and at 30 weeks pregnant your body is aching in ways that make you want to scream. Your back is sore, your feet feel swollen, and your hormones? They’re wreaking absolute havoc.

You tried fixing things yourself last night—twice—but it just wasn’t enough. Now, every glance at Louis, or any of the boys for that matter, is enough to set your teeth on edge. Louis, especially, is not helping. He’s standing front and center, his shirt clinging to him just enough to outline his shoulders and back, his voice cutting through the air as he sings.

Your mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t, and you press your thighs together in a desperate attempt to calm the growing heat low in your stomach. It doesn’t help.

You force yourself to look away, but it doesn’t matter because Niall’s there, perched on a stool, his arms flexing slightly as he strums his guitar. And then there’s Harry, who has sweat beading along his neck.

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, dragging a hand down your face. You’re absolutely feral, and it’s getting harder to keep it under wraps.

Louis catches your eye mid-verse and grins, his boyish smile making your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the baby. He finishes the line, winks, and you’re done. Absolutely done.

When they wrap up the song, you’re out of your seat in an instant. Louis barely has time to register your approach before you grab his wrist. “We need to talk,” you say, your voice low and urgent.

He looks surprised but doesn’t resist, letting you tug him toward a quieter corner of the backstage area. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern flickering across his face. “You okay?”

You glance around to make sure no one’s watching before stepping close, your body practically pressing against his. “I’m not okay,” you whisper, your voice strained. “I need you, Louis. Right now.”

His brows lift, but the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “Oh,” he says softly, his hand finding your waist. “That kind of need.”

“Yes,” you hiss, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve tried handling it myself, but it’s not enough. And this bump…” You gesture at your stomach, frustration spilling out in your voice. “It’s making everything harder.”

Louis lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve come to me sooner, love,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough that his lips brush the shell of your ear. “You know I’m always happy to help.”

Your breath hitches, and you tug him closer. “Then help me now,” you plead.

He glances around, then takes your hand, leading you toward the dressing room with purpose.

Louis locks the dressing room door behind you, and the sound of the latch clicking feels like a promise. He turns to you, his blue eyes softening as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the way you shift uncomfortably on your feet.

"You've been struggling, haven't you?" he asks, his voice low, filled with something tender.

You nod, the weight of his gaze already making your knees weak. "It's the hormones. The bump. I can't... I just need-"

He steps closer, his hands cupping your face as his lips brush over yours, soft but deliberate. "Say no more, love. I'll take care of you. Let me."

Your breath stutters as his hands drift down your body, tracing the swell of your bump with reverence before settling on your hips. He guides you backward until the backs of your thighs hit the plush couch in the corner of the room.

"Sit," he murmurs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obey, your heart pounding as he kneels in front of you, his large hands spreading your thighs gently. The position feels vulnerable, but the way he looks at you-like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen-makes your insecurities melt away.

"God, you're stunning," he breathes, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through you, and you can't help the way your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly.

"Louis," you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

He glances up at you, his smirk equal parts playful and reassuring. "I know, love. Just relax for me, yeah?"

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt out of the way as his lips follow, leaving a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses. Every touch feels electric, and by the time his mouth finds you, you're already a trembling mess.

The first brush of his tongue makes you gasp, your head falling back against the couch as a moan escapes your lips. He hums against you, the vibration adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

"Louis," you whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his hands hold you firmly in place, keeping you open for him.

"Let me," he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of intent. "I want to make you feel good."

And he does. His tongue moves with a precision that leaves you breathless, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firm, purposeful movements that send waves of heat through your body. He knows exactly how to unravel you, how to read every gasp, every arch of your back, and adjust his movements accordingly.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as the pressure builds, your body trembling beneath his touch. The ache in your muscles and the frustration that's been building for days dissolve under his ministrations, replaced by a consuming heat that leaves you on the brink.

"Louis," you cry out, your body tensing as the climax washes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling. He doesn't stop until you're squirming from the sensitivity, and even then, he presses a final, gentle kiss against you before pulling away.

His hands rub soothing circles on your thighs as he looks up at you, his lips glistening, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Better?"

You nod, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. "So much better," you manage to whisper, a smile tugging at your lips.

He grins, rising to his feet and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Good. Because there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, love."

You reach for him, pulling him down for a proper kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The moment is soft, tender, a quiet reminder of just how deeply he cares for you.

"I love you," you whisper against his lips, and the way his eyes light up makes your heart ache in the best way.

"I love you too," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

Louis helps you fix your hair and straighten your clothes, his smirk never fading. “You look ravishing,” he teases as he smooths a wrinkle on your skirt.

“Shut it,” you mutter, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrays you.

He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, let’s head back before they come looking for us. Niall’s got a knack for barging in at the worst moments.”

You let out a soft laugh, following him out of the dressing room. Your legs are still a little shaky, but Louis keeps you steady with his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

The moment you step into the green room, four pairs of eyes snap to you and Louis. Niall is the first to speak, his grin so wide it practically splits his face.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to rejoin us,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Harry raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Took you long enough. We thought we’d have to send a search party.”

Liam clears his throat, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a smirk creeps onto his face. “You two are terrible at sneaking off, you know that, right?”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but the amused quirk of his lips and the knowing look in his eyes speak volumes.

You groan, sinking into a chair and burying your face in your hands. “Can you all not?”

Louis, on the other hand, looks entirely unbothered. He plops down beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Jealous, are you?” he quips, grinning at the others.

“Jealous of what?” Niall shoots back. “The two of you disappearing for a quickie? Hard pass, mate.”

Your cheeks burn as Harry chuckles. “I mean, considering how you two look right now…” He gestures vaguely at you and Louis, his eyes twinkling.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Louis says, though his tone is more amused than annoyed. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Zayn finally speaks up, his voice calm but laced with humor. “We’re just glad you’re happy. Both of you.”

You glance at Louis, and the soft smile he gives you makes your heart swell. Despite the teasing, you can feel the genuine support radiating from the boys, and it makes you realize just how lucky you are to have them in your corner.

“Thanks,” you mumble, your voice quieter now. “For everything.”

Niall waves a hand. “Ah, don’t get all emotional on us. Just… maybe keep the sneaking around to a minimum, yeah? Some of us are trying to enjoy our snacks without mental images we didn’t ask for.”

You laugh despite yourself, and Louis squeezes your shoulder. “Noted. We’ll try to be more discreet next time.”

Liam shakes his head, but his smile is warm. “There’s no hiding anything with this group. You should know that by now.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned,” you reply, leaning into Louis and letting the warmth of the moment wash over you.

…

Part 4

[nectardaddy]

OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN  . . . single dad! meian + f!reader

                              DELETE DELETE DELETE 

✮⋆˙ notes/CWs - suggestive, 17+ to read, language, meian is insanely flirty, formatted differently than my usual so lmk if we like it! I probably won't stick to it but I like it in this instance :), not proofread bc I'm lazy sorry, dedicated to the wonderful, amazing, best friend forever @nekozaki who truly outdid herself for my secret santa gift so I'm here returning the favor!! you're amazing ellie thank you for being such a wonderful person and writer, I hope you enjoy <33

Re: today is awful  From: Meian Shūgo I can make your day 10 times better if you come over tonight ;)

The woman stared down at the email with baited breath, held it so long she thought she might get dizzy. Until finally a strangled breath passed her lips, filled her lungs before she swallowed harshly. Over and over, she read the sentence; over and over until her heart surged to her throat with her cheeks hot. 

He sent that to her work email. 

A cheeky habit the pair had, emailing each other. A nice surprise to see kind, often silly emails, throughout the day - sometimes he sent pictures from practice, but more often than not he sent terrible dad jokes - so she always replied. Normally, she would send an update about her day, and he would always reply with an endearing message back. But today was different, today was spicy; Meian had a fire underneath him and didn't mind the consequences. 

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she swiped away from the email; torn between wanting to smile and wanting to tear him apart for sending something like that. Her fingers were quick to find his contact and hit call, and she decided to draw and quarter him the moment he picked up. 

The man was at practice around this time, and she knew he had slinked himself away just to answer - which only made her more riled. He answered because he knew what the call was about, no doubt.

“You got my email, didn't you?” A coy question that made her stomach drop and twist in knots; the man had the unique affinity of leaving her breathless. “You miss me that much, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with a faux sense of sympathy, a teasing aura muddled behind a true care and compassion for the woman.

“You can't send shit like that through a work email, Meian!” A hushed tone as she put force behind the man's name, which only made a chuckle sound from the other end of the line. “Oh yeah, laugh it up, those emails are screened by the way. Let's not forget I work at a school.” 

“It wasn't even that bad,” he reasoned. “So put the family name away, I could've sent a lot worse.” 

“I bet you could've, jackass,” she rolled her eyes at his brashness. Her eyes flickered up to the closed door of her classroom, then to the clock on the back end of the wall. At least he knew the times when people weren't in her classroom, that was the only redeeming arc of it all. “Not the point though. Use your brain before you send an email like that again. Think to yourself: is this helpful, is this kind, will it get flagged by my girlfriend's work because I don't know how to contain myself?” 

Another chuckle, and she let out a loud groan. “Pretty hot when you use that tone with me,” he chided, she could practically hear him smirking through the line. “You should use it when-” 

“Dear god, don't finish that sentence right now.” She closed her eyes and groaned once more, and the twinge of exhaustion that settled upon her was apparent even over the phone. He frowned once the tone had shifted, although she couldn't see it. 

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Spoken genuinely, with a small breath, before she heard him smile again. “‘Love you.” 

There was a small pause, one she could’ve excused as poor signal, but didn’t as she took a sharp inhale. The pair had just recently shared the intimacy of such words of adoration, pouring their hearts out on a drunken escapade that spilled over into the next day, and the day after that. The freshness of the statement still made her stomach fill with butterflies and her cheeks hot; for once, she was glad he wasn’t around to see just how flustered he made her. 

“I love you, too.”

She heard him hum just before the loud bang of a door swinging open on his end rang through. “I’ve been found,” he chuckled, “I’ll talk to you later, alright?” 

“Have fun at practice, Shū.” Instead of his own voice ringing through; however, another took its place. Farther back from the phone, as if they were in front of the man she wished to speak to, and loud - obnoxious. 

“Holy fuck is that your girlfriend? Let me talk to her!”

The click of the call ending was loud, and she only chuckled when she took the phone from her ear. 

3 new notifications from Shū ❤️🏐  never said I wouldn't text you though [image attachment] you should still come over 😏 I can make you forget all about your bad day

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