#throws this out into the wild n then immediately goes to bed

[arsenicflame]

(I am still in love with you, can't admit it yet)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

[ratedfleur]

jiwoong nsfw a-z

a - aftercare -> jiwoong knows the basics, he needs to have you pee and bathed before getting into bed.

b - blowjobs -> loves it in the car or by the wall. he’d just hold onto the back of your head whilst thrusting into your mouth, making you gag around his big cock.

c - cum -> jiwoong loves it when he cums in your mouth and vice versa. he loves cumming in mouths, finding foreplay hot.

d - dominance -> jiwoong is a firm dom, seldomly slipping when he’s a little sensitive or tired.

e - experience -> you’re more on the experienced side despite being a year or two younger than jiwoong, though he fucks like he has more experience than you.

f - fuck buddies -> you both are interested to try but you both haven’t exactly tried including one into your sex life.. if you were to include one, you’d both make sure it’s someone from a dating app and not someone who you both really know.

g - gagging -> he loves making you gag around his fingers, making you suck on them whenever he’s fucking you from behind.

h - hickeys -> he loves it especially on your boobs knowing you wear outfits that are quite scandalous, he loves when he could see his hickies peeking out of your top.

i - intimacy -> jiwoong loves getting intimate at whatever time of day, as long as you’re okay with getting intimate.

j - jerk offs -> he doesn’t really like it but he’s into it whenever you two aren’t together, jerking himself off over a phone call while you talk to him about your day, not knowing about his sexcapades.

k - kinks -> his: dacryphilia, bondage, cnc yours: cnc, cuckolding, impact play.

l - locations -> club toilet, secluded park, vacant parking lot, car hood.

m - make outs -> it usually happens when jiwoong is jealous. he’d make out with you in a place where he know the person he’s jealous of could easily pass by and see you making out with your boyfriend.

n - no’s -> firm no’s are a yes for jiwoong. he knows he could be a little mean and he’d apologize profusely if he goes a little too far.

o - orgasms -> orgasms with him are intense, it leaves you weak underneath him, pussy clenching over nothing when jiwoong pulls out.

p - positions -> doggy, missionary, wall sex

q - quickies -> loves it in his car. he’s into the thrill of someone passing by, noticing how the car is moving despite it being parked.

r - relationship -> a year into your relationship, you share vanilla sex not until you suggest more and more things that lead to jiwoong unleashing the hard dom in him.

s - submission -> you are a firm sub between you two, almost immediately dropping at jiwoong’s hand when he creates advances at you.

t - (sex) toys -> anything vibrating, expect it to be at your door. you both just love using it with each other, jiwoong with a vibrating cock ring and you with a bullet vibrator popped in your ass.

u - (can’t think of any so..) ->

v - virginity -> you both didn’t lose it together but that’s alright because jiwoong knows he could fuck you better than all your old fucks.

w - wild card (from the writer) -> you both kinda have a fixation for matthew, thee seok matthew. there’s just something about matthew and his arms that makes you want him to throw you around while jiwoong lies back and watched you get fucked by his friend.

x - x-ray vision -> it’s like he has one when you’re wearing a skirt or dress, teasingly not wearing panties underneath. he’d flick the fabric up, mouth watering when he sees your ass or pussy.

y - (can’t think of any so..) ->

z - zzz -> he’s a firm believer of sleep first and then i’ll fuck you in the morning. and then whilst you’re asleep, he’d touch you when you’re deep into your slumber, fingers delving deep into you while his tongue is busy flicking at your clit, making you cum whilst you’re asleep.

© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[missmeinyourbones]

BOYS ARE STUPID

cw: implied f!reader, mentions of girlhood and teenage insecurity, the girls are gossiping and suna is jealous >:) wc: 2.4k

a/n: so this is technically a suna x reader piece but it kinda turned into something else along the way ??? with that being said, this was truly a blast to write. something about girlhood is so special to me :( so this felt like therapy to be able to bring to life LOL, completely inspired by this cute art of sister!suna and her loser brother

Sometimes, you think Suna just speaks to get a reaction out of you.

A true wild card, you’re never quite sure what nonsense is brewing behind his eyes and atop his tongue. He likes the element of surprise, confusing you with a random fact or flustering you with a lewd remark. You’ve become used to his antics, taking what he gives you and no longer expecting anything less than odd when it comes to him. 

Laying on top of his plaid comforter, you can hear muffled insults being thrown through the walls of his bedroom. His tone isn’t seriously angry or upset, but instead laced with a special annoyance that only a younger sibling can pull from their senior.  

The bickering abruptly ends as Suna swings his bedroom door open to return to you. Briefly, you spot his younger sister in the hallway behind him—slightly pouting with her arms crossed in defense. She goes to open her mouth once more, but Suna is quick to grab what he can from his desk (an Animal Crossing themed plushie) and throw it her way before slamming the door shut.

You send him a humorous glance, one that silently begs for the details of the quarrel. Your boyfriend reads your interest like a book, before plopping himself in his desk chair with a sigh. 

“My sister wants to hang out with you,” he drops casually.

“What? Really?”

Your head immediately lifts from Suna’s pillow in excitement, turning your attention to where he swivels his chair in lazy circles. 

“Yup,” he emphasizes the pop of the p through his pursed lips, “said she wants to save you from my cooties, or something stupid.”

Your nose slightly twitches at his big brother-esque explanation—catching your scolding glare, he holds his hands up in innocence, “Her words, not mine.” 

You sit on the statement, still puzzled at how the quarrel in the hallway correlates with the information at hand. Seeing your brow still furrowed with confusion, he clarifies, “She also thinks you’re cooler than me.”

You scoff with amusement, “I mean, she’s right about that.”

Suna’s younger sister, a timid but incredibly witty girl, had honestly never expressed too much of an interest in you. It’s not that she didn’t like you, she was just quiet, young. Often reserved and keeping to herself, much like her brother, whose mischievous personality never quite shined through until you’d gotten to know him better.

The mere thought of her insinuating an interest in your friendship has you beaming with an overwhelming excitement.  

Nearly jumping from his bed, you sit yourself up against the headboard with an impatient, “Well, what’d you tell her?”

Now, it’s Suna’s turn to scoff, “No, obviously.”

He drags his feet along the navy rug of his room as he swings back and forth in his chair, kicking his legs out before him every now and then. He looks oddly young doing so, like a child ashamed of an incident at school or a puppy who’s just chewed up the couch cushions. 

“Rintaro!” your tone spills with frustration. You throw a pillow his way, one he dodges with ease, “Why would you say that? I’d love to take her out!”

“She’s a freak,” he’s quick to retort, voice trailing off as his sentence strings itself along, “and maybe I don’t wanna share you.”

The realization sets in slowly—the shyness you believed to be guilt was actually jealousy. You swear you see a faint blush lingering on his pale cheeks as he holds his tongue between his teeth. The sight soothes the irritation that threatens to flood your response. 

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, Rin,” you do your best to softly reassure his childish thought, “unless you really do have cooties.”

His tongue presses against the inside of his bitten cheek at he sits on his response, “Well if I do, then that sucks for her. Because you definitely have them by now.”

With an amused smile, you extend a grabby hand in his direction, motioning him to join you in his bed. With an immature scowl, he begrudgingly does—slowly standing from his desk and sulking his way over to your embrace. 

He slumps his full body weight on top of you, fighting off a chuckle when he hears your stifled groan beneath him. Your fingers find the tuffs of hair that decorate the nape of his neck. He feels himself relax beneath the tender scratch of your nails, before feeling your breath tickle his ear.

“Tell her I’ll take her out to lunch, we can plan a date,” you conclude in a whisper that leaves him little room to argue.

Suna internally pouts at your use of the word date with anyone other than him, let alone his sister. He’s smart enough to know the lack of threat behind it, but he can’t help himself—he’s alarmingly stubborn and incredibly jealous when it comes to you, regardless of whoever it is taking your time away from him.

But still, something about the pleading in your voice and the excitement flashing behind your eyes has him giving in to your command without a fight. 

“Fine.”

...

Rintaro’s sister is just like him, practically a lab-created clone of his reserved, yet witty persona.

A part of you would think they were twins if it weren't for her evident childish flair—her zebra print backpack slightly bounces as she walks, the scrunchie that loosely holds her ponytail is wrapped in sequins of purple and blue, her cellphone is decorated with stickers of sleeping farm animals. 

Though years younger and barely her own person yet, she embodies a lot of his little quirks. Her eyes squint of the slightest judgement at your choice in restaurant, her mouth permanently resides in a pressed line when it’s not being stuffed with buttered bread, her laughter—though sparse and quiet—is contagiously light and airy.

The lunch is going as well as expected. It’s fine, a few awkward pauses here and there, paired with a few conversations that go a bit farther than anticipated. You find yourself thinking about your thirteen-year old self, if the two of you would’ve been friends who giggle in the cafeteria about silly, nonsensical things. 

Her smooth and collected voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“What do boys like?” she abruptly inquires between generous gulps of pink lemonade. You watch the rose colored liquid crawl up her straw as she makes a dent in the amount rather quickly. 

A bit taken back at the loaded question, you stutter, “What do they like?”

“Yeah, like, I don’t know—” she trails off, suddenly anxious and dismissive compared to her prior attitude, as she tries to find strength in her words, “—is there something that you can do…to make them like you?”

The innocent question breaks your heart, having been a growing and insecure teenager once yourself. You can’t help but ache to know her reasoning for the sudden inquiry, and why on earth she’s asking you of all people for advice on the matter. 

Not wanting to belittle her vulnerability, you send a reassuring smile her way. “Why’re you asking me?” bubbles from your throat with a friendliness you hope she finds comfort in. 

Her familiar golden eyes bore back at you in judgement once more, before elaborating what she thought to be obvious. Almost as if it physically hurts to explain herself, she does so in a rushed ramble.

“Because you’re cool, and Rintaro really really likes you,” she idly twirls her fork between her fingers to busy her hands, “and if my loser brother managed to score someone like you, then there must be something I can do to get people to like me, too.”

Her blunt delivery makes you laugh, which brings the faintest twitch of a smile to her face. After all, if there’s one thing the Suna siblings have in common, it’s making people laugh with their lack of filter. 

You want to reach across the table and offer her a hand—as a sister, a friend, a mentor, anything she’d be willing to accept. You want to grab her by the shoulders and insist that she’s perfect the way she is right now, that she shouldn’t change to please anyone, let alone teenage boys who don’t know their ass from their elbow. You ache to drill into her mind that girlhood is grueling. That it strips you of an innocence you didn’t even realize you had until it’s already gone, leaving nothing but a hollowed core behind.

However, looking across the table at the timid girl, you see a reflection of not only your boyfriend, but of yourself in her uneasy adolescence. With a deep exhale, you decide on the simplest, most poetic terms you can muster. 

“Boys are stupid,” you retort with confidence, “and I wish I could say they get smarter as they get older, but I don’t think they do.”

A foreign look flashes across her face, and you're not too sure if it’s one of surprise or disappointment. Either way you go on, taking a small pride in the way her eyes light up with interest at your continuation.

“But just because they’re stupid, doesn’t mean there aren’t a few good ones, too,” you remind her. 

Because as you think about a jealous Rintaro sulking in the grey walls of his childhood bedroom, you decide that’s what life and love and boys are—sometimes stupid, sometimes good, sometimes both and somehow neither.

She chews on your words for a few silent moments, thinking them over and playing out their possibilities. 

“You should just be yourself,” you conclude when the server passes your table, dropping off a dessert that resembles a middle schooler’s dream concoction.  “Boys will like that, or at least the boys who matter will.”

After a few moments of silence and a dessert that’s begging to be devoured now sitting in the center of the table, the younger Suna speaks up. 

“Is my brother stupid?” she eyes the plate with a spoon in hand and a hungry, determined look in her eye.

The simple question has you laughing once more, before confirming with a mere nod, “The stupidest.”

...

Suna practically races to the door when he hears your car pull into his driveway.

Trying (and failing) to play it cool, he casually waits by the threshold for the two of you to prance through the entryway. He’s nearly knocked off his feet by what he sees—his little sister, always stoic and snarky, is smiling from ear to ear as she giggles her way inside with you trailing not far behind.

She makes eye contact with her older brother, immediately changing her soft expression to her usual cold and disinterested glare. 

Rintaro sees right through her act. 

After all, he reacts the same way when he’s caught smiling at your words by the twins. He can’t help but swallow back the realization that, maybe that’s just the infectious effect you have on the Suna family. 

You greet him with a grin as you take your shoes off, making your way towards the extended arm raised by his side. He wastes no time in motioning you towards the privacy of his bedroom. You follow his not-so-subtle lead, but not without thanking his sister again for your date today. 

As you enter his room with his hand guiding your back, he releases a long-held sigh of relief. 

“So, what’d you guys talk about?” he immediately spills over—meant for you, but his sister responds from the hallway before he can fully close the door to his bedroom. 

Through the tiny creak, she smirks before howling, “How stupid you are.”

Suna’s quick to swing his door open once more, throwing the nearest item decorating his floor (today, a dirty Inarizaki hoodie) her way before firing back with mockery. 

“Ooooh, good one. You should be a comedian.” 

His door slams shut before she can retaliate, and the deja vu of the situation has you fighting off a smirk. Suna stares at the wooden panel for a moment before taking a sharp inhale and turning towards you.

The look in his eye completely contradicts his prior expression of annoyance as he beams your way, realizing he didn’t greet you properly in the midst of his anxiousness. 

He reaches for your hand and places a sweet kiss on it’s back, “Hi, pretty.”

You return his words with a laugh, “Hi, Rin.”

“How was it?” he asks earnestly this time, all attention devoted to you. 

While he may have been jealous of his sister spending time with you, he’s also a bit antsy to hear how it went. He wants to know where you ate, what you talked about, how much money he’s going to venmo you later for the bill (even though he knows your stubborn ass will refuse it). 

He wants to know if his sister showed you any embarrassing pictures of him from middle school, or if you told her about the time he tripped down the stairs. He wants to know if the two of you sat in an uncomfortable silence at first, if it eventually faded into a natural conversation of banter and giggles. He wants to know if you’d do it again, if you liked spending time with one of the people who made him the instigator he is today.

After all, you are two very important people in his life—in different ways of course. He loves you every single morning when he wakes up, wants to smother you in every ounce of love he can muster. He wants to strangle his younger sister most of the time, yes, but that doesn't mean it’s not out of love.

With his nerves melting away, he’s more than relieved when your lips stretch into a soft smile. 

“It was fun,” you beam with giddy excitement. “She reminds me a lot of you.”

Suna dryly chuckles. “Weird, it’s almost like we’re related,” sarcasm drips through his quick response.

Your hand pulls away from his and finds his arm with a smack, but it feels like a win for Suna when you giggle at this words and let him pull you down onto his bed.

He brushes a few stray hairs from your forehead, “So what’d you guys actually talk about?”

His eyebrows furrow at your sudden expression, one with equal elements of guilt and mischief. 

You grin, “Well, I mean, technically she’s not wrong.”

[mackenzielovee]

parenthood part sixteen: dissension

a/n: hello ! happy sunday and a super special happy birthday to @imobsessedsblog ! i hope your day is amazing! please leave me some love if you can and enjoy <3

warnings: swearing, heartbreak, tears

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

     Two weeks. 

It’s been two weeks since you heard from Topper or Sarah. Not for lack of trying, of course. The day Topper left your house after the beach day, he’d been gone exactly three hours before you got a text from him. Two simple words, but enough to shatter your heart in two. 

It’s over. 

You’d responded immediately — and sent him about a thousand texts since then — but hadn’t heard a thing back. You also texted Sarah, who didn’t respond either. Rafe reached out to both of them as well, but only got radio silence in return. He’d also reached out to Rose and Ward in hopes that they’d know where Sarah is, at least, but they don’t. 

The days turning into weeks of silence from your best friend only make you sad. He’s been your rock for years; getting you through every single challenge and there to offer a hug and a kiss on the cheek at the end of it. Now, when he needs you, he runs off. 

You still text him everyday, and Rafe watches you from across the room as you stare at the screen full of unanswered text messages. Without even being asked, Rafe takes the brunt of the work for the kids while you wallow in your worry. You’re not surprised, but you are thankful, and you tell him so every night before you show him. 

On the morning of the fifteenth day of no Topper, you climb out of your empty bed and stumble out into the kitchen to make coffee. Josie is asleep on the couch, which has become her routine with Rafe for the last few months. She gets up and comes downstairs before he leaves for his run just so she can give him a hug and a kiss before he goes. He claims it’s the best part of his day, knowing it would usually lead to a cute pout on your lips. Instead, you just give him half a smile and then get lost in your head again. 

“Morning, baby.”

Rafe’s voice shocks you out of your head and you spin around, eyes raking over his sweaty body. He gives you a faint smile, as if trying to assess your mood. 

“Morning,” you rasp, listening to the coffee maker come to a halt, “Your girl is asleep on the couch again.”

“No, my girl is standing in our kitchen, worrying to death about something she can’t control,” he corrects, raising a brow as he nears you, “Come here.”

Your lips tip up as you shake your head, “No. You’re all sweaty.”

“You’re afraid of a little sweat?”

“Kinda!” you cry, laughing when he throws himself around you anyway. 

He chuckles and squeezes you tighter, pulling his head back so he can take you in. Once you stop squirming to break free, your eyes meet his and you furrow your brows. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Missed that smile,” he confesses. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I’m just worried about him.”

“I know, sweetheart. He’s probably taking this time to work out what he’s lost. He’s gonna need us soon, I know that.”

You nod, knowing Rafe’s right but not necessarily wanting to admit it. Instead, you cuddle into him and rest your chin on his sternum, puckering your lips for a kiss. He gives you one, and just as he starts to smile, you speak. 

“I’m afraid,” you tell him, “I’m afraid something bad happened. Sarah’s always been a bit of a wild card, so I get this behavior from her. But, Top? He’s never disappeared this long. It has to be something major.”

“He’s okay,” Rafe says again, “He just needs some time.”

You just nod and bury your head into his chest, doing your best to let it go. You breathe Rafe in instead, letting him calm you down. It almost works, almost, when the sound of your sweet girl’s voice comes tearing through the house. 

“Uncle Topper.”

Your eyes close under the two simple words. Rafe tenses against you, but lets his hand travel up and down your back to keep you calm. 

“Josie, baby—” he starts, but her voice stops him. 

“Uncle Topper’s outside!”

You perk up, yanking away from Rafe and meeting his eyes for a split second before you hurry out into the living room. Just as Josie had said, Topper slips into the house, using his key, and smiles when he sees Josie. 

“Hi, my angel,” he greets her, lifting her up for a hug. 

“Hi, Uncle Top,” she smiles, “Missed you.”

He purses his lips and nods, emotions evident at her words. You stand by the stairs and take him in with Rafe pressed to your back, sure he’s doing the same. He’s smaller somehow; his hair is a mess and he definitely hasn’t shaved since the last time you saw him. He looks hungover and sad, even as Josie paws at his stubble and leans in to give his jaw a kiss. 

“I missed you, too,” he whispers. 

For the first time since he entered, Topper looks up at you. It isn’t until you see his eyes that you realize how much he’s been going through in the last two weeks. He looks destroyed. Even worse, he looks as if he’s given up. 

“Hey,” he says roughly, “Can we talk?”

You nod quickly, feeling your throat constrict as you swallow down your thousands of questions. Rafe’s hand meets your hip, and you watch as Topper tips his chin up at your husband. 

“Let’s sit,” you speak, barely able to get the words out as you gesture toward the living room. 

Rafe guides you down onto the couch while Topper settles into the armchair with Josie. She cuddles into his chest as if she can sense that something’s wrong, and you know it is when Topper pulls his wallet out of his pocket. 

“Twelve hundred, right, Cameron?” Topper asks, fumbling with a handful of cash. 

“What?” Rafe asks. 

“Twelve hundred,” he repeats, tossing the pile of cash down on the coffee table in front of the two of you, “That’s how much you lent me for the ring. There it is.”

Your eyes widen as you look for Rafe for an explanation — one where he actually tells you that he lent money to Topper and you don’t have to hear about it after it clearly doesn’t work out. Rafe’s eyes close and he puffs out his cheeks, then slowly exhales. 

“Why are you giving that back?” Rafe asks, still not willing to look at either of you. 

Topper laughs, then leans forward and covers Josie’s ears with his palms, “Didn’t work out.”

Josie squirms and shoves Topper’s hands from her ears, then turns around and glares at him. To apologize, he leans forward and pecks her forehead. 

Rafe’s eyes open then, but instead of facing the music with you, he keeps his eyes on Topper. 

“Where’s my sister?”

Topper swallows, “Fuck, she’s— sorry, baby. Don’t say that word. She’s in Boston.”

Josie furrows her brows and sits up tall in his lap, reaching her hand up and petting his scuff the same way she was earlier. Rafe squirms uncomfortably, desperate to know more about why Sarah is in Boston and not here. 

“Where’d you go?” Josie asks with the pout that makes Topper melt, “You left me.”

Immediately, Topper shakes his head, “I would never do that, Josephine. You’re my girl. My only girl.”

“What about Aunt Sarah?” she asks. 

Topper’s eyes meet yours before he looks back at her, and you can tell he’s biting back the response he wants to give. Instead, he paints a fake smile on his face and pulls her closer. 

“She wasn’t the one for me,” he explains, “But you know who is?”

She grins, “Me.”

“Correct,” he smiles, “And I promise, I will never leave you. Are we okay?”

She nods happily, standing up on his thighs to wrap her arms around his neck. 

“I love you,” she says. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

You shift in your seat, needing desperately to know what happened but not wanting to push him away from Josie. Rafe pats your leg, signaling that he’ll take Josie and leave the room while the two of you talk. You give him a small smile, and just as he stands, Connor comes down the stairs. 

“Uncle Top!” 

You sigh internally, but smile when you see Connor dive over the armchair and into Topper’s lap. Topper smiles and embraces him, immediately asking him how he is and to catch him up on everything. Rafe sits down again and puts his arm around you, kissing your temple gently as you accept waiting your turn. 

     By the time the kids calm down, you’ve had two cups of coffee and your leg continues to jump up and down. Topper looks over at you and sighs, then sits up and repositions Josie. 

“Hey, angel, I’m gonna talk to your mom for a bit. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Josie looks over at you in hesitation, then nods, “Okay.”

You stand up when he looks over at you, then sets her down in the chair and stands from his seat. You stand too, giving Rafe a hesitant look before you squeeze his hand and follow Topper out to the deck. 

Silently, the two of you sit down. You balance your half empty mug on your thigh and squirm, working up the courage to look over at him. He keeps his head down in his lap, hands gripping the arms of the chairs tightly. 

“Did you get my messages?” you ask weakly. 

“I did,” he replies, not looking up, “All thirty-two of them.”

You purse your lips to hide an embarrassed smile, watching him as his own mouth tips up at the ridiculous number. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I was acting like a tool.”

You watch his eyes flicker up to yours, and before either of you can say another word, he gives you a real smile. You visibly relax in your seat at the sight of his smile, convincing yourself that maybe things aren’t as bad as you’ve been thinking up for the past hour. 

“What’s in Boston?”

His jaw shifts as he exhales, “She got a job up there. Claims she wants to put her Communications degree to work in a place that’s not surrounded by water.”

“Oh,” you nod, “But, you’re not going with her?”

“Y/N,” he sighs, shifting in his chair and tucking his head into his hands, “It’s complicated.”

You lean forward, wrapping your hand around his forearm to pull his hands away. He looks over at you, his eyes swimming with tears, and sniffles. 

“I can handle it. What happened, Top?”

He swallows roughly, staring at you for a moment before he speaks. 

“We broke up,” he states bluntly, but you know he’s not through, “She’s pregnant.”

Your jaw drops as your heart sinks into your stomach, looking at him as if to find some silent explanation on how that news could lead to a breakup. When he doesn’t elaborate, you puff out your cheeks and exhale slowly. 

“Why—I mean, what—”

“What does that have to do with us breaking up?” he guesses, shaking his head as he chuckles sarcastically, “Well, she’s pregnant, and she doesn’t want a baby. She says we’re not ready. She, uh, found out she was pregnant three weeks before she told me, then came to me with a pregnancy test and an adoption pamphlet.”

You swallow, “And you said—”

“I said,” he continues, “We’re getting married soon, and I’m scared, too, but we can do this. She said no, things escalated, and then she threw the ring at me.”

“Top,” you whine, “I’m so—”

“She’s keeping it,” he interrupts, “But she doesn’t want to be a mom. She said she’ll respect what I want if I respect what she wants, too. So, I’ve spent the last two weeks deciding between being a single parent or giving my child up to strangers.”

Your eyes well up with tears as you try to even imagine being put in such a place and coming out in a good headspace. You’re sure you’d look even worse than Topper does, and even that is being generous. 

You reach out and grab his hand, covering it with both of your own. His jaw shifts as he holds back tears of his own, looking at you just as you start to cry. 

“I’m so sorry, Topper. That’s a really tough position to be put in. Do you want to talk about it? Figure out your decision?”

He shakes his head, “I’ve made my decision.”

Your throat constricts as you suck in a breath, feeling as though you’ll never be able to get enough air in. 

“Oh,” you squeak.

He squeezes your hand and gives you a small, sad smile, “It’s my baby, Y/N. I’m not just going to give them up. And, yeah, maybe a nice couple would be really good to the kid, but I’m their dad. I can do this. I’m just, um — I’m gonna need a lot of help.”

You grin, sniffling and trying to keep your tears in. He laughs when you nod and pull him in for a hug, squeezing him so tight that he has to know you believe his decision is the right one. He chuckles, and when he pulls back, you wipe the stray tears from his cheeks. 

“I’m so happy for you,” you whisper, “You’re gonna have a baby, Top. That’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” he answers. 

“I mean it. You’re going to be great. This baby doesn’t know how lucky they are.”

His eyes flutter closed at the words coming from you, fresh tears falling at the motion. A million questions flow through your head, but you don’t ask any of them. You just sit with him, letting him breathe in his new future. 

“I have to talk to the kids,” he eventually says, nodding his head in the direction of the house, “I have to go to Boston for a while. I need to take care of her while she’s pregnant. I just don’t want them thinking I’ve left them. My heart will always be here with those two, you know? They’re the kids that made me realize I want my own.”

You smile, “They love you so much. So do I. I know this situation isn’t how you thought it would happen, but I think you’re doing everything right. I’m just sorry that it’s not what Sarah wants, too.”

He clenches his jaw, “It was. That’s why I proposed. We talked about living here and having kids and building a life together. And then Boston came along, and she just changed. I don’t even want to think about why.”

“Topper,” you say weakly, “You have been amazing to her. Her change in behavior had nothing to do with you, I’m sure of it. I really thought things would work out between the two of you this time.”

Tears fall from his eyes again, but this time, it’s different. He nods in silent agreement with you, taking in shaky breaths to try to collect himself. 

“I did, too,” he confesses, “But, selfishly, I’m glad my baby will be half Sarah. She’s the first girl I ever loved, you know? Maybe she won’t be the last, but at least I’ll have a piece of her for the rest of my life.”

Before you can help yourself, you set your mug down on the ground and pull Topper up, begging him for a hug. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight, letting himself cry. 

“You’re a good man,” you whisper, “We will be here for whatever you need. I promise.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replies, voice thick with emotion, “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too, Top.”

     You hug him for a while, hoping that if you squeeze tight enough, you can push those broken pieces of his heart back together. When he finally pulls back, he lets you wipe the tear streaks from his cheeks and then gives you a smile, his silent way of telling you that this helped him. 

“When do you have to go?” you ask. 

“Tomorrow,” he says, “I want to be there for all the milestones. I don’t wanna miss anything more than I already have.”

You nod, trying and failing not to let your disappointment show. He lets his hands find yours and squeezes before he nods in the direction of the house. 

“Want me to get the kids?” 

He nods, “Yeah. Could you, um, talk to Rafe? It’s his sister and I just— I can’t do it.”

“Of course,” you reply, “I’ll be right back.”

He releases you and watches as you take a few steps to the door. He waits until your hand meets the doorknob to speak again.

“Y/N,” he calls, “I love you.”

You smile and turn around, “I love you, too.”

He returns your smile and lets you escape back into the house, taking the minute alone to collect himself. You walk into the living room to find Rafe and Connor on the couch together as they play a game on Rafe’s phone, while Josie plays on the floor with Connor’s stuffed dinosaurs. 

Rafe looks up at you when you enter, and just as you collide with the blue in his eyes, tears start to well. He tenses and stands, rushing over to you without a second’s worth of hesitation. 

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he asks. 

You shake your head and give him a fake smile as you sniffle, then look over to the kids, who stare at both of you. 

“Guys, Uncle Top wants to talk to both of you outside,” you tell them. 

“Okay,” Connor answers, rising from the couch. 

He reaches out and takes Josie’s hand, leading her toward the back door. You wait for it to click closed behind them before collapsing into Rafe, letting your emotions overwhelm you. 

“Shit, baby, hey,” he whispers, “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s sit.”

He pulls you over to the couch and helps you sit down. You reach up and wipe under your eyes with the tips of your fingers, doing your best to compose yourself for his sake. He’s patient, as you expect, and brushes the hair away from your face as he waits for you to speak. 

“Sarah, um,” you sniffle, your voice cracking slightly as you continue, “She got a job up in Boston. She’s staying up there, and, well, she’s pregnant.”

“She’s pregnant?” he repeats, his eyes wide, “But they’re— he said—”

“I know,” you nod, “She doesn’t want to be a mom. At least, not right now.”

Rafe’s lips part as he takes in the new information, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his brain. His hand falls to your thigh as he collapses back into the couch, running a a hand through his messy hair. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, “So, what’s going to happen with the baby?”

Your eyes close, “Topper’s going to raise them. On his own.”

You can feel Rafe tense, but your eyes remain glued shut. Rafe’s grip on your thigh tightens, a silent beg for you to state your opinion before he explodes with his own. You swallow while he shifts his weight, letting out a shaky and angry breath. 

“What the fuck,” he hisses, “She’s just gonna not be in her child’s life? Forever? She’s giving up an engagement and a baby for a fucking job?”

Rafe stands as he raises his voice, which is the only reason you allow your eyes to open once more. You stand with him and cup his cheeks in your palms, trying to calm him down. 

“It’s her life, Rafe,” you tell him, “It’s her choice. If this is what Sarah wants, we have to respect that.”

“Fuck that, I don’t respect anything about her abandoning a family,” he spits. 

“Rafe,” you sigh, “She’s not abandoning anything—”

“Bullshit, she’s not. I’m gonna go call her right now—”

“Stop it,” you demand, grabbing onto his wrists, “You can’t make this choice for her, and you’ll only drive her away if you yell at her. She’s an adult and she’s made her decision. Topper’s okay. Sarah deserves to have a career.”

“She deserves to—”

“Rafe,” you stop him, “I’m sure this was a difficult decision for Sarah to make. But she made it alone, and we have to respect that. Just because you disagree with your sister doesn’t make her wrong. Please. Let’s just both take some time to cool off before we say anything to anyone.”

His jaw is clenched tight as he stares at you; evidently fighting every desire to dial up his sister and scream into her voicemail. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, then pulls you tightly into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “Didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know,” you reply. 

You clutch him tight, pulling his shirt into your fist as you breathe unevenly against his neck. You two remain like that for a few minutes, not wanting to break the silence with more discussion about Sarah, and break away only when the back door opens. 

Topper carries a crying Josie inside with Connor in front of him, who looks sad but is attempting to hold it together. Josie’s arms lock around his neck and her little sniffles sound from the crook of his neck. Connor immediately walks over to you and holds his arms up, letting you pick him up and hold him tight. 

Topper doesn’t look much better, in fact, he looks gutted. He doesn’t attempt to put Josie down or even make her feel better, he just continues to kiss the top of her head every now and then. 

“I’m sorry,” Topper says to you, and when he finally works himself up to looking over to Rafe, his frown deepens, “Look, Rafe—”

“You have no reason to explain yourself to me, Top,” Rafe says, keeping his hand on your waist, “You’ve got all my respect.”

Topper’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, “Thank you.”

Rafe nods, then steps over to the coffee table and picks up the cash Topper had left there to repay him. Folding the bills in half, Rafe holds them out to him, nodding when Topper shakes his head. 

“You’re my brother,” Rafe says, shifting his jaw to prevent his emotions from showing, “Babies are expensive. Take it. We’ll get more to you whenever you need it.”

Topper shakes his head again, “Rafe—”

“Take the money, Top.”

With a tight grip on Josie, Topper grabs the money and stuffs it into his pocket, as if hurrying will mean he doesn’t have to accept it. With a nod to Rafe, Topper turns and looks down at the girl on his chest, heart visibly breaking at the sight of her. 

“Angel, I’ve gotta—”

“No,” she whines. 

Topper’s eyes close as he lets his lips meet her forehead, urging her up. 

“Come on, Jo. Let me see those eyes,” he presses. Pulling back, she looks up at him with her best puppy dog eyes, earning tears from Topper, “There they are. My favorite girl in the whole world.”

“I can go to Boston with you,” she proposes, “I’ll be extra good, I promise.”

He smiles, but it’s tainted with more tears, “I know you would. But your Mommy and Daddy would miss you too much.”

Connor looks up at Topper from his place on your shoulder, “You’ll come home for my birthday?”

“Of course I will,” Topper promises. 

“Mine, too,” Josie insists. 

“I promise. I’ll call a lot, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“Come here. I love you so much, my angel,” he whispers to her, pulling her close. 

Josie starts to cry again, and you’re not at all surprised when Topper hands her off to Rafe to avoid breaking. Connor squirms from your arms and runs into Topper’s, clutching him tight. 

“I love you, Uncle Top,” Connor tells him. 

“I love you, too, buddy. Call me whenever you want to, okay?”

Connor nods, “I will.”

The four of you walk Topper outside to his truck, where he receives another round of hugs from each of you. Rafe hands Josie off to you and sticks his hand out for Topper to shake, but is quick to pull him in for a hug. 

“You’re gonna be a good father,” Rafe tells him, “Because you’re a good man.”

You give Topper a hug after Rafe and make him promise to call more than once every two weeks, and just like that, he’s gone. Although you feel like collapsing into nothing right there in the driveway, you regain composure and walk inside, gripping onto Connor’s hand for dear life. 

The remainder of the day is spent holding the kids close and making sure they understand that Topper has to go, and that he’s not leaving them. Both of them seem sad in their own way, but by the time they fall asleep on both you and Rafe, you figure that they’re sad because they see the sadness in you. 

Rafe carries them both up to bed for you, telling you just to rest for a bit and he’ll be down soon. You let your emotions get the best of you once he’s out of the room, and you cry for Topper for a few minutes, Then, you regain control of yourself and cover up with a blanket, letting your mind work as you stare off. 

Part of you, like Rafe, wonders how Sarah could make such a choice. Another part of you wants to stand up for her until the end. You’re sure a million thoughts went into her decision to end it and move. Maybe she’s not happy here. Maybe she’s not happy with Topper. If she’s not ready to be a mom, to make a lifelong commitment that will impact her every day, well, you can understand that. Sarah deserves the option that men get every single time they see a positive pregnancy test — to be involved or not. You refuse to crucify her over something that nobody would bat an eye at if she were a man. 

Rafe finds you like that when he comes back downstairs; wrapped up in your own head and cuddled into the couch. He walks past you initially, and when you hear the familiar clanking of mugs in the kitchen, you smile to yourself. 

He returns a few minutes later with two full mugs of hot chocolate — and about a million marshmallows sticking out of each one — then hands one off to you. As he sits, one of his arms comes around you while the other holds his mug. You collapse into his chest and inhale his familiar scent, letting it wash away all feelings of worry or sadness. 

“She just left,” Rafe sighs, talking about Sarah, “She packed up her shit and left without saying goodbye.”

“I’m sure she’ll come home to visit and stuff,” you mumble. 

“I don’t care about that,” he grunts, “She left our children, Y/N. Without a care in the world.”

You shake your head, “I’m sure it’s not like that—”

“It’s exactly like that. Sarah’s selfish at heart. This whole mess proves that. And she can put on her little show and play us all, but this is always how things turn out with her. I mean, shit, you remember how she was.”

“Of course I do, Rafe,” you sigh, “But you can’t hold that against her for the rest of her life. You’re not your worst mistake, either.”

He grows quiet at that. You sip from your mug of hot chocolate and lean into him, trying to simultaneously calm him and yourself. 

“I just can’t imagine choosing a career over my family,” he whispers. 

You nod to show him that you understand his point, “People are different.”

Rafe nods his head, and silence overcomes the two of you again. Your eyes start to pull closed, exhausted from the extreme emotions you’ve had to feel over the course of the day. 

“We have to help him,” Rafe says, “In every way. He’s gonna need it.”

He reaches over and removes your mug from your hands, which allows you to wrap your arm around his chest and fully cuddle into him. 

“We will,” you reply. 

He chuckles to himself and kisses the top of your head, shifting minimally to place the mugs on the coffee table before cuddling back in with you. He fixes the blanket over both of you, then pulls you in closer. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he says quietly, “Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”

You smile, “I love you, too, Cameron.”

He laughs, and before you know it, the sleep pulls you under. You don’t even object when you wake up at four in the morning with Rafe cuddled on top of you, face buried in your neck as he softly snores. You just press a kiss to his forehead and close your eyes once more, thankful that even if you have to deal with temper tantrums and laundry and lost toys, at least you have a partner to do all of it with.

Tags:

@witchwyfe @ghostselena @goldenjo @storytellingwitht @scenesofobx @itsalexwin @onmykneesforrafe @valeriiecameron @lovedetlost @mardema @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @malums-trash-can @emotionalbruv @onenightnorth @rafecameronswhore @wanniiieeee @sarahwasfound @lilgoddesshines @abrunettefangirlnerd @absolute-fcking-chaos @premixed-margarita @anonymousobxfan @samcaniglia @midnightanticss @iammirrorball @r0und3bitch @thesimpletype @notdisneychannel @gillybear17 @solllaris @i-is-for-inspiring @luversgirl @maybankxw @mattyskies @imobsessedsblog @ryswritingrecord @barbietiingz @sierraahhhh @bethoconnor @starkeyobx @pittbull-enthusiast @nourfine @outerbankspov @zdrewrrys @elizabethrosecresswell @lienoec @luhdrew @localhockeygirl

[oh-my-damn]

A (Pretty Decent) Proposal

Highways & Heatstrokes Masterlist

Pairing: Trucker!Ari Levinson x Hitchhiker!Reader

Summary: Checking in with Trucker!Ari and Sugar, about a year after she goes back for him.

A/N: A little drabble on our two lovebirds! I figured perhaps it was time I showed you guys just exactly how big beefy trucker Ari would ask his girl to be exactly that - all his, for the rest of his life. And as expected, it really isn't anything special. But it's all Ari. And the only thing that matters to him is his Sugar.

You're sitting in a lawn chair next to the truck, flipping through a magazine while Ari is off filling the tank.

It's hot today, but not unbearable, which makes it the perfect time to work on your non-existent tan. You're eating a bag of jellybeans that's almost finished as you read through the articles.

Ten signs he's into you

How to get his attention

Get a beach body in 30 days

You flip through the pages, rolling your eyes at how half the articles have recipes for desserts and treats, while all the ads are for fad diets or guides on how to lose weight.

To be honest, you only bought the magazine because it's all they had at the convenience store in the lot, and you weren't in the mood to read Ari's copy of Jane Eyre again.

You really need to buy some books, soon. Especially for days like this.

You know for a fact it doesn't take this long to refill the tank. You know this, because you've been with Ari for over a year now, and it only rarely ever takes this long. You also know exactly why it is taking this long, today.

Your eyes lift from your magazine to look across the lot, just to confirm your suspicion.

Whenever you're at a truck stop that's one of Ari's regular places, he always takes such a long time to fill the tank. Or to get supplies. Or to do just about anything.

You chuckle to yourself when you spot him standing around with a group of men, a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. One of the men, whom you recognize from past encounters, says something to the group, and Ari immediately throws his head back, letting out a rumbling laugh that carries through the parking lot.

You slide your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him over the brim, eyes trailing over his form. He's shirtless, undoubtedly to both maintain that delectable tan color of his skin as well as to assert himself. None of the others come even remotely close to him.

Most of them have small bellies, and they don't seem as.. well groomed, as Ari. They may be around the same age but they still look much older, jeans fitting a little too tight and hair not as thick.

You tilt your head, eyes trailing over how Ari's abs flex as he leans back on the half wall surrounding the lot, one arm resting on top of it.

You recognize the other guy, the one that made him laugh, and he might be the only other guy in the vicinity who could come close to Ari.

His name is Curtis, you've bumped into him a few times by now, and he's nice. Always treats you kindly, with respect even, which is not always something you've experienced. Everyone who meets you and Ari know there's a power imbalance there, they can tell you're much younger, and it's made for some awkward encounters once in a while.

But you always brush it off. You don't care about what anyone else thinks; all you care about is Ari and how happy he makes you.

Curtis' eyes find yours for a moment before he mumbles something to Ari, who turns his head to look in your direction. He grins widely, making you quirk a brow at him as he says something to the group.

Before you know it, all five men are walking in your direction, Ari taking a final drag of his cigarette before he tosses it on the ground.

You push your sunglasses back up your nose, pretending not to notice them as they walk towards you, returning to your reading.

What to do to drive him wild in bed

You smirk, immediately marking the page so you'll be able to easily find it later, and right as you do, you hear a familiar voice.

"Hiya sugar," Ari says, making you look up at him. He walks the rest of the way towards you, a dazzling smile on his face, "Stayin' hydrated in the heat?"

You shrug, looking up at Ari as he stands before you, Curtis standing next to him and the remaining three men standing a little behind them, but all eyes are trained on you.

"I had some water earlier."

"Mmh, that's good," Ari hums, turning to look at the other men, "Guys, go grab some chairs and beers. Come sit with us. We're stayin' for the day."

The others nod and walk off, Curtis offering you a smile before he walks in the direction of his truck. The second you're alone, Ari turns back to you, "C'mon sugar, stand up for me for a second."

You chuckle, knowing exactly why he's asking you to get up, closing your magazine and getting up from your chair with a smirk, "Why do I need to get up?"

"You know why," Ari grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you to him before he places a quick kiss on your lips. He turns you both around and places himself in the chair, pulling you down to sit in his lap once he's seated.

His arms move around your waist, palms landing on your stomach as you lean your back against his chest. His slender fingers find the magazine in your hand, immediately opening it and flipping through the pages, "Anythin' excitin' in here?"

"Mhmm," you hum, shifting in his lap to get more comfortable, "Flip to that marked page."

You can feel his chest hair against the nape of your neck, your head leaning back until you can rest it on his shoulder. He hands you his beer, and you take a sip while he finds the article you've marked.

"What to do to drive him wild in bed," Ari reads, humming as he nods, "Interesting. Did you write this article, sugar?"

Ari smirks at you, making you giggle, "Hmm, no, but I figured it was worth a look. See if there's anything in there I haven't done to you yet."

"Doubt it," Ari snorts, quickly scanning through it, "Ain't nothin' in here that's as fun as what we do, baby."

You chuckle, your free hand finding his fingers, playing with them gently, "Nah, we're pretty good at it."

"Yeah, we are," Ari mumbles, taking a sip of beer when you direct the bottle to his lips.

You smile when the others walk back to your little spot with their chairs, immediately placing more beers on the ground before they sit down to make all of you sit in a circle.

One of the men looks at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as you sit in Ari's lap, before he asks, "And what's your name?"

"This is sugar," Ari replies as you take another sip of his beer, "My wife."

You sputter, choking on your sip, before you look at Ari over your shoulder with raised brows.

The other men chuckle at your reaction, making Curtis state, "You sure about that, Levinson? Doesn't seem like she was aware."

"Uh, no," you immediately say, looking at Ari incredulously, "She wasn't."

Ari snickers, "Aw, come on. I'm too old to have a girlfriend. It's wife or roommate, you pick."

The others chuckle again, but you refuse to bite, narrowing your eyes at Ari, "Excuse me, Mr. Levinson. If you want me to be your wife, you have to ask. And, you have to get a ring. End of discussion."

"Who says I ain't already got a ring?" Ari counters, watching your tense expression.

"Well, the ring isn't for you, idiot," you grumble, pursing your lips, "It's supposed to be for me."

You glare at Ari for a moment, and he holds your stare teasingly before he lets out a chuckle, "Oh sugar, aren't you just the cutest? You want a ring, hm? Whaddaya want? A diamond? That good enough for ya?"

You snort, taking a sip of his beer before you turn back to look at the others, mumbling under your breath, "Asshole.."

Ari laughs, arms squeezing you tighter, "That's not very nice."

"Neither are you," you immediately respond, plucking the magazine from his hands, "It's not nice to tease."

"Who says I'm teasin'?"

You look at Ari over your shoulder, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Ari, stop," you whisper quietly, pouting slightly, "It's not funny."

"I'm not makin' any jokes here, sugar," Ari replies, tilting his head as he looks at you, "What'll it take, hm? A diamond?"

You frown, glancing shortly over at Curtis who just looks at you with a curious expression. You look back at Ari, "No, don't need a diamond. Just a ring."

"Okay," Ari nods, taking the beer from your hand to get a sip, "What else?"

"Uhm.." You glance away to gather your thoughts before looking back at him, "Honeymoon. One where I get to decide where we go."

"That I can do," Ari responds calmly, eyes holding yours intensely, "That it?"

You nod once, unsure if he's bluffing or not, "Mhm, that's it."

"Okay then," Ari states, placing a quick kiss on your cheek, "You got it, sugar."

[cevansbrat0007]

The Arrival: Isn’t She Lovely?

Summary: Baby Bianca decides to make her debut to the world

*Warnings: Fluff, Pregnant Reader, Daddy Andy, Scared Andy, Childbirth, Tears, Minors DNI

A/N: This is when Bianca arrives. Hope you enjoy! Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

You sit up in bed, gritting your teeth in pain. You felt…wet. Had you peed yourself? Well, based on how often you went to the bathroom these days, it was certainly a possibility. But why did you hurt so bad?

You were almost a week past your due date, and you were flipping huge. Wait. Was it…was it finally happening? You think to yourself. Yes, yes it was.

Leaning over, you grab your sleeping husband’s shoulder and give it a gentle shake. “Andy.” You whisper. “Andy, baby, wake up.”

He groans and rolls over, throwing an arm over his eyes. And then goes right back to snoring. “Damn it, Andrew!” You slap his chest as another wave of pain courses through you. “Wake up!”

Andy’s eyes shoot open. “Whaa-wha-what’s wrong, Y/N?” He sleepily mumbles.

“We need to go, honey.” You tell him.

“Go where?” He frowns at you.

“Hospital. I’m pretty sure my water broke and -”

“Hospital?!” He screeches. “Shit!” He rolls away from you so fast that he falls out of bed with a thunk. Your man recovers quickly, however, and begins frantically running around the room. He hurriedly changes out of his pajamas, opting for sweatpants and tee. And then he grabs some pants for you to go under your lilac colored nightgown. He helps you put them on before gently assisting you out of bed.

“I got you, baby.” He tells you. “Let me get you down the stairs and into the car.” Which he does. He actually picks you up and carries you down the freaking stairs. Okay, Big Man. 

Andy bundles you up in a jacket and puts you in the car. And then you’re off. 

You’re pretty sure that your man breaks all of the speed limits, but he doesn’t care. He’s the freaking District Attorney. He lightweight wished that someone would try to stop him.

“We’re almost there, Y/N. You doing okay, baby girl?” You nod, holding his hand. 

You breathe an anxious sigh of relief when Andy finally pulls up to the entrance of the Emergency Room. It was finally gonna happen. You were finally gonna get to meet your Bibbity Boop!

Andy quickly reaches behind him to grab the bag you’d had packed for months and slings it over his shoulder, before opening his car door and rushing towards the entry-way. 

Wait. You think to yourself. What…what about me? Had your man just left you in the car? Jesus Christ!

You open your own door and slowly climb out. Damn it, Andy!

___

Andy rushes into the ER and up to the counter. “Help! My wife - she - she’s in labor. We’re having a baby!”

“Um, okay, sir. We’ll get her taken care of immediately. But, uh, where is she?” He pauses and looks around. “What do you mean where -?” And then it dawns on him. “Fuck! I left my wife in the fucking car!” And then he runs back out the way he came. “I am an idiot!”

Your frantic husband runs past you as you waddle through the sliding doors. “Can’t believe I forgot my wife!” He mumbles, not even realizing that you’d made it in on your own. Oh well, he’d come back. He always did. Your hubby was loyal like that.

You wave at the receptionist working at the front desk. “Hi!” You eek out.

“Oh, you must be the wife.” She greets you as she tells an attendant to grab a wheelchair. 

“Of the handsome lunatic who just ran out of here? Yep. Guilty as charged.” Someone is kind enough to help you sit, as you wait for Andy to return. You rest your hand on your belly, rubbing it every now and then. 

A few moments later, Andy runs back into the hospital waiting room, his eyes wild. “Help! My wife, she’s missing! She’s -”

“Right here, Big Man.” You call out, interrupting his inevitable panic attack. “You ran past me, honey.”

“Oh, thank god.” His large body sags in relief. “Oh…”

“Well now that you’re both here, together.” The woman gives you a wink. “Let’s get you up to labor and delivery, shall we? We’ll send up the necessary paperwork.”

“That would be great.” You tell her with a smile. 

___

You’re all settled in your room. Staff had notified your OBGYN, and they were on their way. The pain had calmed down somewhat, but the physician on rotation had confirmed it: 

You were in labor. 

“Andy, baby.” You call out to the man who is currently pacing the floor. “Baby, come sit and hold my hand.” You reach out to him, wiggling your fingers.

“Y/N, how are you? I’m sorry I forgot you in the car. I’m sorry that I -”

“Stop it, sweetheart. You’re alright. If I was in your position, I might have done the same. I love you.” You press three kisses to his large, warm hand. 

Andy kisses your forehead. “We’re all gonna be fine. Our princess is gonna be here before we know it.” You tell him with a certainty. 

___

Twenty Hours Later…

“C’mon, baby. Just one more lap.” Andy croons into your ear. They had said that walking might help. Fuckers.

Kiss me one more time and I’ll gut you. You think to yourself. And ooh, if that lovely man at your side offered to take the pain and discomfort from you one more time…”if he could”, you would strangle him. What a lucky prospect that he was already in a hospital. 

You’d done so many laps around this floor that you could fucking work here. This baby just would not come. Oh, you were uncomfortable, and you were in pain, but did she seem to care? Nope. 

You’d even tried dancing. And you’d made your husband get in on it too. You’d blasted songs like Britney Spears‘ Work Bitch. Followed by Shining, featuring Beyonce, Jay-Z, and DJ Khalid. And then it was Can’t Stop the Feeling, by Justin Timberlake. Oh, your weary body had went through your whole damned playlist.

Did it work? Ehhh…no.

___

Seventeen Hours Later…

“Okay, look at that, we see the head. Give us another push. C’mon honey, I’ve known you for months. You are strong.” Your OBGYN urges you with conviction. “You’ve got this!”

Gripping the covers and screaming through clenched teeth, you give in to your body’s need to push and fucking do it.

“Daddy.” Dr, Wilson looks at your husband, who is currently stroking your leg as he holds it open. “You wanna help deliver your baby girl?”

Andy looks at you. “Do it.” You tell him. “It’s okay. Do it.”

He walks around to the physician’s perch to help play catcher. “One more push, honey, and your girl will be out. Just one more. I know you’ve got it in you. I know it!”

“I know it too, Y/N. I know it! You are the strongest person I have ever fucking met. Just one more push, baby. Just one more!” Andy coaches you.

You do it again. Only feeling a sense of relief when you hear your child cry. “Good job, Mama.” Wilson calls. “Great job!”

“She’s here, baby.” Andy tells you from his place between your legs. “Oh, baby, she’s here!”

You start to sob, unable to control yourself. All that fucking pain for the perfect end. “Andy, is she okay?”

“She’s perfect, she’s so goddamned perfect I can’t stand it.” 

“Daddy? Would you like to cut the cord?” Andy does so without hesitation. “Let us get her weighed and cleaned up a little and then we’ll hand her over, alright?”

“Alright.” Your husband is immediately back at your side. He nuzzles your sweaty face, giving you kisses. “Baby, you did so good. You’re like an Amazon Warrior or some shit. A goddamned queen. My god, I don’t even have the words. I’m so proud of you. I love you.” His lips keep peppering your face with kisses. 

You’re still crying. “Andy, Andy, Andy!” 

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He’s back to holding your hand. 

“I need to hold her, and hold you!” You whimper. “Need to hold the two people I love the most. Need my family!”

Your words make Andy tear up even more. “Baby, they’re just cleaning her up a little. But we’re right here. The three of us are right here. Together.”

“Here she is!” Says a nurse. “7lbs and 8oz.” She places your BiBi on your chest. “Do we have a name?  

“Bianca Maria Barber.” You tell her. And then you snuggle your baby. 

“Hi baby, hi!” Your voice is thick with an emotion you can’t seem to control. “It’s so nice to meet you. Me and Daddy have been waiting for so long.” She nuzzles against you, still upset about her former home being upended the way it was. “We’ve dreamed about you, you know. What you’d look like. Your little personality. And my god, you are gorgeous. Andrew, look at this full head of hair.”

“I know, Y/N. Honey, she looks just like you.” 

You softly giggle through the tears that just would not stop. “She has your lips, Andy. Look at that little cleft right above her mouth.”

“But she has your nose.” He responds. “Let’s be honest. Neither of us care what she looks like. She’s here, our sweet little baby is here. After all this time.”

“Andy,” you whisper, having the most bizarre thought. “I just realized that today is your birthday, sweetheart. And I didn’t get you anything.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Once you both have the all clear, he takes off his scrubs and his shirt and holds little Bianca to his bare chest. He had read a lot about the importance of skin to skin contact.

“You just gave me the best gift I could ever receive.” Bianca reaches a super tiny hand out to grasp your finger.

“And I will love you forever for it.” 

[vsxreaders]

Char. N Harmonia

Syn. N with an s/o who teases him

wordc. 482

content. 18+, orgasm control, prolonged denial, toys, begging, pet names

Wouldn't N be so fun to tease? He's usually so intelligent and eloquent, reducing him to a stuttering, blushing, desperate pile of man must be fun.

You're more of a risqué type and no one could claim otherwise. With your short skirts and sultry looks and abundant toys, it goes to show the insatiable depth of N Harmonia's curiosity. He wanted to know your whole world, what everything was and what it all did - telling him was one thing, but showing him was another.

His favorite had to be gentle control with a vibrator. You could wring a good prostate milking from him, you could ride him till he went blind, but classic orgasm control with copious touching, a single little egg vibrator, and a few hours could drive him wild like nothing else. To make such a chaste, simple, shy, quiet man beg to cum? It had to be one of the best feelings in the whole world.

"Love, please, p-please, please..." Like a bitch in heat he fucked your hand, and who could blame him? You'd only been cruelly tearing climax from him over and over for three hours now. Gently you dragged the egg over his balls, down to his perineum; you recieved a hearty groan for your efforts, more unintelligible begging spilling from those pretty faucet-like lips. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease, g-gonna..."

"Gonna what?" You asked innocently, ghosting the toy around the tight ring of his asshole. He seized up - you pulled your hands away, and pet down his shivering legs and across his trembling chest until he calmed down again. So close, you licked your lips. "Could you do one more time, baby?"

N shook his head vehemently. "No, no, I need to...p-please? Pretty please?" The gaze he pinned on you was utterly pitiful, tear streaked and wrecked, hair matted to his forehead and lips swollen from biting and kisses and eyes sparkling with need and oh, so cute. Who were you to deny him?

Grasping his length, you gave him one of your quicker hand jobs, peppering little kisses to his tip that made him throw his head back with a cry so loud you were sure he'd need a lozenge after this. When you deftly slid a finger into his ass, it was only a matter of time. His back arched from the bed in exactly the orgasm you wanted to build him to, gasping cries torn from his throat mercilessly as you stroked him through it. You probably could have stopped and let him ride it out, but where's the fun in that? You needed to see that tortured bliss on his face for as long as possible.

When he came down he almost immediately fell asleep, as is normal for more intense games between you two. But first he dragged you up for a kiss, cuddling up to you indulgently, and you knew he loved it all.

[speedystarshine]

can i get headcanons for like ,,, yandere mack x captain masc!reader but like the reader is like okay with it. no murder but like mack will do something that someone else would consider creepy but reader is just like “oh cool.” both head engineer and crew member mack if possible please but HE mack if not

thank you!

of course I can, anon! thank you for the request!! :D not sure why, but this turned out more of a fic?? I- what how 🤨🧐 another note, I only did Head Engineer Mack since I wasn’t feeling 100% today, hope that’s okay!

Head Engineer Mack x M!Reader

Head Engineer!Mack

This man. This guy. Absolute simp.

He's so obvious about it that it hurts too 😭

Constantly follows you around with awooga cartoon heart eyes.

Its cute and all, but it can be a bit tiring to have someone constantly behind you, asking if you need help with anything or need anything 24/7. It's not that you don't appreciate it! It's just....been a long day.

When he's not asking you or trying to help you with something, he's....very quiet, moreso than normal.

Being honest, he's probably very confused with his emotions. He knows what he feels towards you isn't really normal, but another part of him... Doesn't care?? He decides to act, his feelings being too overwhelming.

Apparently, that leads to him peaking outside of your door in the middle of the night.

He's not that quiet though, unfortunately, and that attracts the attention of someone he was hoping not to see. Mark.

They get into a little scuffle, and pretty soon that ends up with you opening the door to see what all the commotion was about. It was one in the morning, damnit!

You're immediately greeting with the sight of Mack and Mark slapping each other, and sigh. Both of them try to instantly make themselves more presentable, Mack looking as if he was about to pass out with a wild blush on his face.

The second you ask what happened, though, it goes something along the lines of; "CAPTAIN!! He was watching you while you were asleep!-"N-No I wasn't! I just needed to pee and I just happened to- "OH SO YOU ACCIDENTALLY WALKED PAST THE BATHROOM, WHICH IS FIVE ROOMS AWAY-"

Yeahhh, you have to break it up again. You need to get paid more tbh wait do they even pay the captain-

To both of their suprise though, you really.... don't care that Mack was watching you. It might have been the tiredness, or the fact you were used to crew members practically throwing themselves into your arms, but you sent both of them back to bed with a groan.

The second they're both out of earshot, Mack hears Mark mutter something along the lines of "creep." And narrows his eyes. Mark might want to change his attitude if he wants to keep his limbs-

Captain might wanna watch out too, since Mack is 100% going to take your laid back attitude to the situation as an invitation. It.... might already be too late by the time you put your foot down.

[marvelouspeterparker]

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for. 

word count: 15.1k

warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)

notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3

also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles​ !

i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)

give me feedback please!!

“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out. 

“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.��

If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.

“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. 

You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”

You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland. 

To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way. 

All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy. 

“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”

Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall. 

You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint. 

“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”

You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so. 

He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.

“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”

Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.” 

You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke. 

“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms. 

“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk. 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that. 

You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it. 

The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches. 

At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way. 

When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later. 

You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.

You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”

She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before. 

She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face. 

She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.” 

So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”

She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hey!”

She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.

Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?” 

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”

“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”

She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”

“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”

She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.” 

You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”

“You did not just say that.”

“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.” 

You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.” 

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way. 

You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.

❊❊❊❊

All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.

“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all. 

You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.

You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny. 

When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down. 

When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away. 

You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you. 

When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”

You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door. 

You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway. 

You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good. 

Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.

As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today. 

He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything. 

His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts.  “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.  

You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”

He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.” 

You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”

He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip. 

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?” 

He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.

Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term. 

Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself. 

You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.

You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work. 

Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––

You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz. 

After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make  …

You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all. 

You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.

“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.

You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind. 

She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention. 

Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then. 

Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?” 

You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”

“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”

You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”

“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest. 

You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled. 

“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”

Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.” 

You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right. 

“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides. 

You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door. 

A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email. 

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, 

I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well. 

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone. 

Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside. 

You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.

Hi Professor Holland,

Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.

Thank you!

Y/N

You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response. 

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?

❊❊❊❊

The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start. 

He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class. 

At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room. 

“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––

He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class. 

The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.

The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.

Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile. 

He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.” 

He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.

God, you adored this man.

Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job. 

“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”

“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”

There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits. 

You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face. 

“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired. 

When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”

“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––

“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”

You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.

“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”

You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well. 

“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke. 

His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first. 

There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor. 

“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?

You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.

But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well. 

The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped. 

Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door. 

The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.” 

“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.

You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time. 

“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive. 

“Thank you, professor. I will.” 

You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face. 

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.” 

You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”

❊❊❊❊

Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know. 

After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted. 

Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.

You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door. 

You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.

He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit. 

“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”

 He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”

You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”

You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.

You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.

“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.” 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.” 

“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.

“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”

“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”

His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.” 

“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”

You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.  

He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though. 

He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions. 

When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.” 

You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered. 

“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed. 

The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”

“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly. 

“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.

He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you. 

His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you. 

You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things. 

When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.

You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”

You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.

Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”

Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.” 

❊❊❊❊

You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus. 

When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.” 

You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying! 

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.

“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”

“Literally bye.”

She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”

“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”

She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement. 

❊❊❊❊

Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.  

Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage. 

You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further. 

You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power. 

You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you. 

In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.

Tom: Having fun, are you?

Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.

Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)

You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him. 

You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up. 

“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.

He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.

You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.

❊❊❊❊

You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together. 

“Come in, darling!”

You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”

You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.

He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?” 

You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”

He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.” 

You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you. 

After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant. 

His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”

You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?” 

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum. 

Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?

The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”

The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.” 

Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.” 

She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in. 

Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth. 

It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her. 

You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well. 

When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.

“Are you okay professor?” 

He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”

She hummed a small okay and went on.

He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.

You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs. 

In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back––” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”

She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.

Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”

“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.” 

You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.

As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself. 

Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.

You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.

Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”

You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted. 

“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”

You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.

When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.

He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?” 

You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”

His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?” 

You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”

He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set. 

You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.

You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.” 

He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.

His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit. 

Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory. 

He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?” 

You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths. 

He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”

He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”

He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him. 

Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. 

His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.

He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”

His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”

A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan. 

He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.  

After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again. 

He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”

He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”

That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”

He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.

You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.” 

You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.

❊❊❊❊

The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume. 

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”

“Duh.”

And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay. 

“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”

“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”

“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”

“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.

She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.

You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”

Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold. 

“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom. 

“H–Hi.”

He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home. 

“Any plans?” You asked.

“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.

“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”

He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.

“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will. 

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”

His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.

He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.

Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release. 

He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you. 

❊❊❊❊

Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now. 

“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.

“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”

He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.

His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat. 

“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”

You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”

He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.

His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”

He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”

You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”

He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.

 ❊❊❊❊

Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation. 

“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway. 

“No I just––”

No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out. 

So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet. 

“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.” 

This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well. 

“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face. 

“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.” 

His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”

You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”

His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.” 

You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”

You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.” 

You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.” 

“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.” 

You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

Mark Lee

so we all know mark is a quite expressive person with his emotions

and come on when playing video games we all rage and throw fits so emotions are running especially high ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

what i’m trying to say is that mark is yelling, banging fists against his desk, laughing his ass off and pissing you off

i mean mark’s laugh is very cute and ENTIRE BLESSING TO HEAR but ♡ sleep ♡ is also precious 

but mark can’t hear your exaggerated sighs nor see your ever-lasting pout

so you lift your tired self from the bed and plop down on his lap

mark : “hUH??¿¿ B-BABE?!¿¿” （＊〇□〇）……！

haechan, audible through the headphones: mark, not in front of the boys, you wild beast (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)

mark opens his mouth to shout in protest but you bury your head in his shoulder and let out a soft whine and mark.just.COMBUSTS!!!

he grumbles something about how haechan is due for a good beating and nuzzles the side of his face against the top of your head  ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

whenever he has a break and doesn’t need both hands to play, he brings one arm around you, cuddling you closer to himself and running his hand along the length of your spine

or just LAYS HIS HAND ON YOUR THIGH askfafwsr- ya know (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

doesn’t have the heart to break the atmsophere even after he shuts down his computer and just cocoons you in his warm arms and hums a song softly as you doze off intertwined together UwU

Huang Renjun

you’re just trying to be cute and create a romantic enviroment as you cuddle up to your boyfriend who is immersed in his game

“y/n?” his voice is soft, almost a hush and it could almost lull you to sleep

“yeah?” ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

“i can’t see because of your head”

FIRST HIT HOME but you didn’t give up of course, just flattened your cheek against his shoulder to accomodate his complaint 

just as you settle downs drowsily, glued to his frint, he covers his mic to grumble to you again  ಠ╭╮ಠ

“it’s getting hot” 

SECOND HIT HOME and you’re starting to get discouraged as you scoot a little further away from his body and loosen the grip of your hands around his neck (๑′°︿°๑)

but of course ever grumpy renjun still had complaints karen who

“my legs are falling asleep” 

*SIGH* “eye roll* *definetely not pouting* you start pulling yourself away from him and trudge defeatedly and bury yourself under a ton of blankets

but he just chickles, has the AUDACITY to chuckle, and brings you back on his lap, squeezing the life out of you  (≧д≦ヾ)

“i was just kidding babe don’t leave me!!” says renjun as he sways you kinda violently may i add from side to side and rubs his cheek against yours cuz he’s a kitty and adorable confirmed  ε=(｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）

rough love you have other there as you can see

Lee Jeno

jeno is GENTLE GIANT （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

gentle loving giant in this case actually so even better

so we all know how the dreamies exposed this boy TWICE for playing video games 25/8 and he got scolded by his mum lol so i’m thinking

you’re trying to get him to go to sleep or at least rest his eyes he’s already blind enough i WONDER WHY damn

all this started when you settled in front of his computer to block his view

and as he argued with you he decided enough is enough and pulled you into his lap, traping you against his chest (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

“jeno it’s 3 am!!” :<

“ just one more round baby” of video games ya nasties...no? only me?ok

he tries to give you a *smooch* but you move your face away and refuse to turn around and let him kiss you

and that’s where jeno draws the line (; ･`д･´)​

kithes are something that can’t berefused between you two, an unspoken rule you apparenly weren’t aware of

so with a ‘eep!!!’ from you, he simly stands up from his seat with you latched onto him like a koala like (＾ω＾ ≡ °д°)

“jeno put me down!!!11!!1! NOW!!” 

“kiss first” (.◜ ᵕ ◝.)  

“are you nuts??!!!?” *exaggerated smooch* “now put me down!!”

needless to say he’s not letting go anytime soon, he just plops into bed and you cuddle until you fall asleep you’ve been scammed

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is a very VERY petty brat person ಠ_ಠ

so guess what... fights with him are a national competition of petty acts

and you know what his ultimate move in your most recent fight is? *drum rolls* turning off the central heating really original hyuck i applaud you

and this kid knows exactly what he’s doing when he sits down in his gaming chair with a shit-eating grin  (ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)

he hears you stumble around the house in your dora the explorer exploration in the search of a blanket

but guess what? they’re all under his flat cake  ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

so when you bardge in the room and find him hogging all the warmth you hope to intimidate him with your  ✨ highly horrific glare ✨

but he pretends to be too busy to notice you so you just defeatedly settle on his lap and under the blankets

“well well well look who’s crawling back with their tail between their legs”

“i might just cut off your front microscopic tail” (눈_눈)

but i just know he’s gonna cuddle you until you sweat your ass off under that mountain of blankets

and even when he can’t hold you, he’ll press his lips against your forehead, lingering there as his warm breath fanned across your skin

he also made a deal with you to which you didn’t necessarily agree with but that’s a minor detail am i rite

if he wins the round he gets a kiss as a reward (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

if he loses, he gets 2 kisses as a consolation (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)و ̑̑

you’re getting suspicious of his 4 consecutive losses

Na Jaemin

he’s a fluff ball we all know it, we all love it

he’d DIG THAT KIND OF SHIT  ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و

and he babies you to the end of earth

99.8% chance that he’s gonna stop playing just to cradle you against his chest properly because YOU’RE. HIS. BABY!!! periodt.

cue yelling from his teammates for abadoning them in the middle of the game but that’s inevitable

“na jaemin you SIMP!!!!” 

but jaemin is too busy making puppy eyes at you (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。

he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach and then scoop your hands in his and bring them to his lips for another shower of kithes  (*'､^*)chu

and if you kiss him back??  

this man will literally COMUST with uwus istg

like just imagine you brush your lips against his neck and then you gently nuzzle against him??

jaemin would melt in your embrace ♡(｡- ω -)

even if he did eventually go back to playing, he’d press kises anywhere in reach periodically cuz he’s soft like that

would also LOVE feeling your breath fan his neck he gets a unique feeling of comfort knowing that he has you so close to him  (๑˃ᴗ˂)

“even if you were the impostor i’d still vote myself out for you”

the romanticism of this decade 

Zhong Chenle

this boi is ruthless when playing video games

god frobid you’re in his way cuz you’re getting SQUASHED (｢⊙Д⊙)｢

 he obvioulsy LOVES winning

but ya know what he loves more than winning???

𝓨𝓞𝓤  ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

so chenle is all (｡+･`ω･´)

“you waste of space move along!!!!”  “shoot that gun straight dammit or i’ll shove it up yo- oh hey baby°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°“

the moment you plop down on his lap and curl yourself up with your head tucked under his chin, his blazing eyes soften so cutely

and so raging kid chenle turns into best babyboi chenle (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

he M E L T S like he just leans into your touch and continues gaming  A LOT more silently and just smiles absent-mindedly the entire time

“yo chenle you dead????” most likely jisung on the other side of the headphones

“no?” ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

“... guys he’s plotting something, reatreat!! i repeat, RETREAT!!!”

“what?? no, what do you mean by that !??!!!”

you stir as his voice rises in volume and chenle immediately settles down again and shushes you while patting your heah and threading his fingers through your hair carefully (*-ω-)

goes straight for jisung after that teammate or not rip jisung you’ll be missed but also bad choice to annoy a soft-for-only-my-baby chenle

Park Jisung

a bit flustered but just couldn’t refuse you when you cutely asked him with wide puppy eyes if you could sit in his lap to watch him play

probably short circuited for a good 2 minutes before he could produce and intelligible answer (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว

and that’s how you found yourself perched on his lap, facing the screen with curious eyes as jisung struggled as if his LIFE depended on it

“how do you jump?” (,Ծ_Ծ,)

“you can’t jump”

“what do you mean you can’t jump?? gravity doesn’t work like that” Σ(･ิ¬･ิ)

you’re like 2 newborn babies running wild and unsupervised

“jisung, that character looks like you when you’re constipated” (๑꒪▿꒪)*

cue cackling from the devil spawns on the other side

he’s gonna keep in mind this betrayal UNTIL THE END OF TIME beware

if you catch sight of one of his hands not working away i bet my allowance you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to hold it in yours DO IT I NEED MY ALLOWANCE DON’T BE SHY

of course he’ll automatically intertwine your fingers together and bring them up for a chaste kiss  ～(^з^)-♡

and i know for sure that he won’t have the heart to let go of it even when he needs it to play sigh jisung you SIMP

he’s gonna get scolded and teased by the other later but ya know

at least he ain’t no touch starved coward ¯\(°_o)/¯

he gets grounded for that by jaemin

[ohnococo]

Reiner Braun NSFW Headcanons

Throwing out my read on some NSFW hcs for Reiner because I love the man. As with anything I write, he’s a grown ass man here (post-time skip!)

Also this ended up so fucking long but I spend a lot of time thinking about Reiner Braun lmao

NOT SFW/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT!

Reiner loves making out. Like loves loves loves it. He’d happily kiss you for hours on end, and his kisses are enough to make you melt. 

He pulls you flush against him when you’re making out, and loves holding your face or lightly brushing his fingers along your cheek. He goes between slow languid kisses - tongue moving against yours, his deep moans echoing in your mouth - to soft gentle pecks with his forehead pressed to yours. He will honestly kiss you til you’re soaking wet and both of your lips are swollen. 

Speaking of, he has a big thing for grinding. He loves having you cum on his thigh or hip - it just blows his mind that he can get you so worked up that you’ll cum through clothes and he gets butterflies in his stomach every time you come undone beneath him. Basically, given the time to during a session with Reiner he’ll have you cumming before you even get undressed. (and lowkey, he’s definitely cum in his pants while just making out). Oh, and he loves having you leave hickeys on them. He cherishes them and gets the warm n’ fuzzies anytime he looks at them after one of your long make out sessions. 

Big on praise: both giving and receiving. If you suck his cock he’ll be babbling his praises the whole time: holding your hair back for you if he needs to, telling you how good you’re making him feel, thanking you every time you let the tip of his large cock breach the tight seal of your throat. On the flip side he loves having you tell him how good he is, you can talk him right into a quick orgasm with your praise - he loves to know he’s your good boy. Loves little non-verbal things too, nods and hums of affirmation as he moves his tongue just right against you. 

This brings me to oral sex. Reiner’s need to please alone has him right on my Official AoT Men Who Eat Pussy Like a Champ roster, but this man has a fat tongue that doesn’t get tired. He’ll groan right into you just from how much he loves getting a taste, and you’ll drive him absolutely wild if you rock against his face or lock your legs around his head to keep his face buried. His goal is to leave you shaking and if his face isn’t a mess he isn’t done. Fav positions for eating you out are this, this, and this. Especially the last one. He’s a strong lad with a thick fucking neck, so don’t worry about hurting him if you sit on his face.

I’m sorry y’all but I hc Reiner as having a serious submissive streak running through him, I just do! I’ll get into that more in a bit but firstly: he can be a switch, though even when he’s taking a more dominant role he’s the most attentive dom and a big softie. Every move is still at your behest and the goal always remains your pleasure. He’s constantly checking in on you, watching your face and listening closely for even the smallest sign of discomfort. A dream dom in a caregiver type role, but he still needs the release of submission.

You can coax a feral side out of Reiner, especially if you show enthusiasm for his actions and assure him it’s what you truly want. Put his hand on your throat, moan when he squeezes lightly, and he’ll be easily encouraged to fuck you harder. He can and will get as rough as you like as long as you’re showing him how much you love it. In general though he won’t initiate anything like choking or face slapping unless you ask or discuss it beforehand - in all honesty he’d be terrified if he did something like that and actually hurt you. Reiner is definitely the type to go soft as soon as you let out of yelp of genuine discomfort (or show you’re no longer enjoying any kind of pain you’ve asked him to inflict) so he tends to play it safe. 

The silver lining of this is that he’s so intensely aware of your every reaction. He’ll notice the way your eyes change when he playfully slaps your ass or jokingly calls you something (like “Prince/Princess” or, thanks to the random Reiner dream my brain blessed me with, “Little Mouse”) and he’ll file even the smallest reaction away to bring out later. He’s an overall attentive lover in that way, and knows when to pull out the things in his arsenal that make you wild.

Now. Sub Reiner. Sweet tender sub Reiner. He loves having you tell him what to do, when to cum, when to wait. Even if you’re in the middle of more vanilla play, tell him to cum for you and he will immediately. 

He loves being overstimulated as well, keep going after he finishes and he’ll be squirming and whining in the most delicious way - and play with his nipples! This man is blessed with sensitive nipples and could almost cum from nipple stim alone. 

He loves begging too, begging to be touched, begging to fuck you, begging to cum, or even begging you make you cum - he loves it all. He just wants to make you happy, just wants you to tell him he’s good. 

Aftercare is an absolute must for Reiner too if he’s been submissive. When he crashes he crashes hard, and needs your comfort afterwards to round off a session properly. He loves having his hair washed by you (and secretly has a sensitive scalp) but as long as you curl up with him to cuddle and kiss him til he falls asleep he’s more than happy. 

He gives as good as he gets when it comes to aftercare too. He’ll check in about anything new you may have tried, making sure you liked it or were happy with how it felt. If he’s had you in an uncomfortable position he’ll stretch you out and rub your muscles to make sure you aren’t stiff or sore, and he really loves running a hot bath for you or helping you wash up afterwards too. He finds scrubbing your back or finger detangling your hair in the shower or tub soothing, and having you clean and comfortable in bed with your head on his chest lets him know he’s done a good job.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The last thing we need is for Y/N to go feral- XD Anyway, can I ask for some headcanons where Malleus, Rook, Vil, Silver, and Trey have to take care of their fem s/o after she turns into an actual cat please (lab accident, or spell gone wrong)? Thank you!

You can read S/O goes feral/acts like a wild animal headcanons here!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

... Honestly, with how powerful of a magician Malleus is, he could restore you to your usual human form right away The only reason he doesn’t is because you tell him you want to see what life is like as a cat. Your wish surprises him, but he respects your desire and allows you to do as you please until you are ready to return. That whimsy of yours never ceases to amuse him.

Night time strolls are a staple! You faithfully follow Malleus as he traverses the camps in the evenings, sometimes scampering ahead to lead the way through the darkness. Your eager attitude never fails to draw a chuckle from him as he allows his partner to guide him, just as much as he guides you.

Malleus likes to keep you resting in his lap during meetings (well, the ones they remember to invite him to). Because of his overwhelming aura, he has scared off a few mob students that walked in and saw him menacingly stroking a cat in his lap while listening in on a briefing. Malleus unintentionally gives off the vibes of a James Bond villain--

For your food, Malleus personally roasts your meat for you in his magical green flames. It’s a little act of love meant to add a bit of flare and pizzazz to your meals!

There’s a game you like playing together, similar to how you’d play with a cat and a laser pointer pen back home. In a dimly lit location, Malleus will summon his little green fairy lights, and it’s your job to try and catch them all as fast as you can!

Rook decides to let you run loose!! Night Raven College is your new hunting grounds—and your playground—to enjoy! He’ll follow you close behind, just to keep a watchful eye as you explore in your new body.

You bet he brings his camera with him to tail you. Rook can’t miss out on this rare opportunity to catch come pictures of you chasing butterflies and pawing at his pant leg to get his attention. Moments like these need to be captured on film so you can one day look back on this time and reminisce!

Oh, Rook adores how your fur tousles and fluffs up when you run about! He loves ruffling your fur up himself just as much, and makes sure to get in a good head pat, kiss, or tickle in whenever he can~

This man is savage. He straight up harpoons fish or shoots wild field mice and, on one knee, offers them to you as fresh food or “tokens of his undying affection”.

No one messes with you while you’re out exploring (mostly because Rook sneaks up behind them with a murderous smile to prevent them from raining on your parade). It’s a taste of freedom you haven’t had in a while, and you get to enjoy every second of it thanks to your guardian huntsman watching you from both near and afar.

Vil’s determined to safeguard you and not let you out of his sight until you return to normal. In fact, he picks out a hand bag that’s just the right size for you to fit in, and brings you with him to class and to his various acting and modeling gigs!

Nothing but the best for you, no matter what your form. Vil ensures that the production assistants on set fetch you healthy but nutritious and high quality meals, and crisp, clean water to drink.

He prepares a special litter box for you that is styled like a canopy bed with curtains. Vil thinks it is unseemly to “use the facilities” so openly, so he specifically chose a design that comes with opaque curtains. That way, you can step in and use the litter box discreetly.

He pampers you from head to claw! Just because you’re a cat doesn’t mean his darling shouldn’t look their best. Vil will wash you, dry you off, brush your fur, and file your nails to perfection. You’ll look like you just came off the cat walk when he’s done with you!

After a long, hard day, Vil embraces you and mutters his grievances into your fur. He finds comfort in your soft, small form, finding that you’re so much more well-mannered and behaved than Leona “brutish wild cats”.

Silver likes keeping you close to him at all times--specifically, close to his chest. He likes the feeling of having something small, fuzzy, and warm near and dear to his heart... but he has to be careful when he’s holding you, because he tends to fall asleep when he gets that comfortable!

He doesn’t trust anything that Lilia whips up for you. Silver marches straight off to the Mystery Shop to purchase some premium canned tuna for you because he knows it’s safe from being tainted by his dad.

He makes sure you get your exercise in by playing with you! That could mean joining him for a jog, or batting a teaser as Silver swings it around. Sometimes you get so into it that you completely miss the toy and pounce on him instead, and you both end up tumbling into the grass, laughing.

Not all days are high energy, though. Silver has times when he just wants to be lazy and relax with you. He’ll scout out a shaded area underneath a tree with a perfect sun spot not too far off for you--and there you’ll be parked for the rest of the afternoon, soaking up the mild weather.

Silver loves soft and fluffy things, so he’s always patting or squishing you in some way or another. He especially likes to nuzzle his face against yours and squeeze your little jelly bean paws... It’s so therapeutic!

First thing’s first, Trey’s clearing the kitchen and the immediate vicinity of foods that cats can’t eat. That means grapes, chocolates, onions, garlic... He doesn’t want you getting sick or hurt!

Trey’s not as good at cooking as he is at baking—but he knows enough to throw together some raw fish and spices to make a special tuna tartare (garnished with a basil leaf). He uses his handy-dandy food processor for the job while you sit at his side, waiting for the tuna to finish churning. It’s adorable watching your ears and nose twitch in anticipation!

After you’re done eating, Trey helps you brush and floss your teeth. He’s not exactly sure if cats need to take care of their dental hygiene to the same extent as humans, but it’s better safe than sorry!

When you’re indoors, Trey follows you around with a lint roller or a vacuum cleaner to clean up any stray cat hairs. He also keeps you away from curtains and furniture--anything that could be damaged by your claws! Riddle would throw a fit if you damaged anything!

Trey fusses over you as his dorm members attempt to get a head pat, cuddle, or a selfie in with your cute kitty self! He claims it’s because they’re causing you trouble, and while that’s true, he’s not being entirely truthful, either. He’s actually a little jealous that he has to share you, too!

[dreamerstreamer]

Sleepy Streams

Pairing: Sapnap x gn!reader

Summary: Sapnap isn’t the only one getting sleepy watching Dream speedrun for hours at a time.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: requested by a very, very kind anon! thanks for all the creative liberty you let me take with this one. i hope you like it! (i wrote this while making pasta lol) this story was inspired by this video and this video.

“Oh, what? No way!” Sapnap gasped, his eyes widening at the sight on his screen. “You spawned in the middle of the fortress? That’s wild!”

Dream’s giddy voice echoed through his headphones. “I know, I know!!”

He leaned back in his chair, his lips curling upward eagerly. “First a Looting III sword, and now this? All in less than eight minutes? Dude, you’re so lucky today.”

Another voice came softly from his left. “Maybe this run will set a record.”

Sapnap turned, his gaze flickering to the chair beside him. His chest grew warm at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed, your knee poking into his thigh as you scrolled through your phone absentmindedly. Your hair was a mess atop your head and you were wearing one of his shirts—the white one with the flame. He remembered how wide you had smiled when he gave it to you.

“It’s your shirt and it’s also your merch,” you had said. “It’s like... Sapnap squared!”

He chuckled at the memory of your shining eyes as you held the shirt close to your chest. Cute. You were so, so cute, even without trying, and you didn’t even know it.

He turned again, looking back at his screen just in time for Dream to locate the blaze spawner. “I’m telling you,” Dream said, the clicking of his keyboard accompanying his voice, “this seed actually just might be it.”

“I—“ Sapnap cut himself when he out an abrupt yawn, quickly regaining his composure just a second later. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it is, honestly.” He pressed a hand to his eye, gently rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes.

“Tired?” Dream prompted, blocking yet another fireball from a blaze.

Sapnap laughed. “Yeah, it’s like—“ His eyes darted to the corner of his screen. “—it’s like four in the morning. You’ve been speedrunning for nearly four hours, now.”

There came a laugh. “Well, you know. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

A comfortable silence fell between them as Dream continued to fight blaze. A muffled yawn came from beside him. Sapnap twisted his chair slightly, glancing over at you once again. You were still scrolling mindlessly through your phone, your lips twitching every once in a while. You were probably looking at some memes, or maybe just browsing through Twitter. He had tried to convince you go to sleep a few hours prior, but you had just shook your head at him.

“I like spending time with you.” He remembered you leaning up to press a kiss to his check. “Being quiet together in the same room makes me happy.”

A fond smile crossed his face. You always managed to make him smile. Just then, you felt his eyes on you and looked up, your eyes meeting his. You smiled at him, sending him a sleepy thumbs up. He smiled back, butterflies filling his stomach. The two of you had been dating for months now, and you still have him butterflies. It was crazy how much of an effect you had on him. Just how lucky was he to have you in his life?

“Alright, I have seven rods. Out of the Nether we go.” Dream’s voice pulled Sapnap out of his thoughts, and he turned to stare at his monitor screen once more.

“Let’s gooo!” he hooted, instinctively throwing a hand in the air in excitement. “You’re killing it, Dream.”

“I mean, I still have to kill a bunch of Endermen before we can say that for sure. Plus, I still have to find the stronghold, which is going to take forever, and—“ He sighed, uncertainty lacing his voice. “Maybe I’ll just quit.”

Sapnap frowned. “Dude, don’t say that. You’ve still got plenty of time. You just need to kill some Enderman on the way over to the stronghold, okay? Don’t sweat it. You’ve got this in the bag.”

Dream let out a soft chuckle. “Fingers crossed that’s how it goes.”

The next few minutes passed in silence, with Dream chasing after some Endermen and Sapnap letting out the occasional words of encouragement here and there. As much attention as he was paying to Dream’s current speedrun, his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the thought of you—you, who were so kind and warm. You, who made him laugh with hardly any effort on your behalf. You, who made loving and being loved feel so easy.

You, who had fallen asleep.

Slumped against his side, your head rolled onto his shoulder, your phone lying abandoned on your lap. Sapnap froze, inhaling sharply but immediately melting at the sight of your sleeping face. Your rosy lips were parted and your chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Your eyelashes cast a spiderweb of shadows across your cheek from the glow of his screen, and your cheek was smushed cutely where it met his shoulder.

He took back what he thought earlier. You weren’t just cute—you were adorable. 

“Hey, uh, Dream,” he said, careful to be quiet so as not to wake you up, “I think I’m gonna go to sleep. It’s getting really late.”

Dream made a frustrated noise. “Still no pearls—oh, heading to bed?” He could hear the smile in his voice. “Let me guess, you have school tomorrow.”

Sapnap’s gaze darted to your sleeping figure. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well,” Dream laughed, “you have fun in class tomorrow, then. This run is probably my last one for the night. It’s probably scuffed or whatever, but I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Sapnap smiled. “Alright, thanks.” He moved his cursor to hover over the ‘end call’ button. “Goodnight, Dream.”

“Night, Sapnap. Sleep well.”

He clicked his mouse, finally exiting the call after a good three hours and fifty-two minutes. He then shifted his attention to you, your hair tickling his cheek. Oh so carefully, he wrapped one arm around your back and slid the other under your legs, hoisting you into his arms so that your head laid on his chest. Nudging his chair back, he made his way to the other side of his room. For once, Sapnap was grateful that he didn’t make his bed, if only so he could gently lay you under the covers without having to fumble for the sheets.

He was slow to slide himself into the space next to you, his eyes tracing ever edge of your delicate face as he tucked the both of you in. Raising a hand, he brushed back a stray piece of hair from your fluttering eyelids using the back of his finger, smiling when you unconsciously leaned into his touch. Suddenly, your lips moved.

“...Sapnap,” you mumbled, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. “...love you.”

His heart leapt into his throat. Goddamnit. He swore it must be illegal to be this cute. It just had to be.

“I love you too, angel,” he murmured in your ear. He slipped his arm around you, holding you close to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he dozed off into a warm, hazy dream.

He wouldn’t mind spending every night like this with you—maybe for the rest of his life.

(A few minutes later, Sapnap’s phone lit up from a very, very excited notification from Dream.)

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 51

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi x Fem!OC Contents: Worry, angst, attempt at domestic fluff. Unproofed. A/N: My heart is not really in this fic anymore (among other reasons due to lack of reactions but mostly real life) so I’ll be rounding it up prematurely and retire it within a few chapters. Thanks for what likes and reblogs I’ve gotten so far.

Chapter 51

It’s not until he calms himself down enough to think that Kakashi realizes where his nightingale could have gone to. Quick and discreet, he makes his way through town to the water tower where he once met the mysterious girl...and finds it empty.

Shit! Then where?

There are several other elevated positions in or around town, but none of them that Uguïsu tends to frequent. So instead of throwing himself into a wild goose chase, he does the hardest thing: he goes home.

And waits.

And waits.

It’s nearly midnight when the door opens and closes with a whisper, barely audible over the soft huffing and puffing of the ninken.

“Uguïsu?” He barely believes it even though she’s standing right there. “Where have you been?” It comes out harder than intended and he sees her wince and the sharpness in his voice and still she takes her time to take off the shoes and put them neatly aside before turning to face him.

“I got your message,” she simply states, deadpan, as if that explains everything.

“Then why di-” Kakashi has to stop himself or he would end up raising his voice.

Instead of talking he takes in the woman before him. He notices the clenched hands and the thinly drawn lips, the furrow of her brow.  Suddenly, he realizes that it’s not defiance oozing from her pores but fear and yearning and he steps forward with the arms spread. Uguïsu steps right into the embrace and he feels her tremble.

None of them say anything for a while.

“I went to the meadow to think instead of doing something stupid,” Uguïsu eventually confesses.

Kakashi sighs. “I’m glad that’s what you did...but I would have liked to know.” He can feel the woman squirm a little and loosens his grip on her a little. “I was worried. Why didn’t you send Pakkun or one of the others to tell me?”

“...what would you have done if you knew?” she asks in return.

I see. “You needed the space and didn’t need me barging in on you.”

“Haï. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” But in reality, it stings.

He knows that he’d have sought her out, knows he’d have come running as soon a he could. It’s uncanny to be called out like this. Kakashi would have sought her out out of concern, out of worry both for her safety but also to help her with whatever she must have been struggling with as she sat by herself in the clearing. He can see it in his mind: a lone woman sitting in the tall grass and wildflowers, hands balled into fists, unless she’s occupying them by braiding her hair over and over again. Pakkun and the others were there. And immediately the image adapts – fills up with dogs that are either keeping watch or keeping company – and it seems less lonely. Yes, she didn’t need me there...not this time.

“What do you need from me?” What can I do?

“Distract me,” she suggests. “Tell me about how your day was?”

Of course he complies, sparing no detail as he finally has a chance to reveal his true feelings of relief and concern to someone who might understand.

...

Kakashi wakes from the light slumber as Uguïsu slips out of bed. It’s still night and he can see little more than a shadow in the darkness.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers to the retreating figure.

She pauses, then returns to sitting on the edge of the bed. “Didn’t mean to wake you...”

“It’s okay.”

“I keep thinking he’ll appear and take away everything I’ve finally got going for me.”

There’s no quake to the voice, just a plain matter-of-fact dullness that somehow is worse than a million tears would be.

Opening his arms, Kakashi motions for her to return to bed and she snuggles up close, allowing him to wrap her in his arms. And as they lie there for a moment, quiet in each others’ company, the world holds its breath.

“The thing is...” Uguïsu begins, “I don’t know how I’ll ever be free of him unless he dies...but I can’t kill him myself, I think.” Kakashi stays quiet as she searches for the right words. “There’s still some part of me that belongs to him...and I hate it...but he took me in and raised me when I had no one.”

“That was his doing though,” Kakashi argues gently.

“I know...but still. I didn’t know what he’d done for years. I thought -” she cuts herself off and exhales heavily before continuing -”but then I think of what might have been instead if he hadn’t come to my village...and I think of what I have now...and I hate him.”

Finally, there’s a passion to the voice, a seething anger that should rightfully be able to make plants shrivel up and birds fall dead from the sky. It makes every hair on Kakashi's body stand on end as a shiver races from the top of his head to the very tip of his toes. There it is. The righteous fury. The bitterness. The fear.

“One thing you’ve got now are friends who’d stand by your side,” the jōnin suggests.

Uguïsu turns her face towards him and this close he can see that there’s a single tear escaping a dark eye; a tear that Kakashi feels privileged to wipe away. “That’s why I think there’s a chance...but he must be taken down quickly...with one giant blow.”

[foli-vora]

counting stars

A/N: I apologise if this is a mess—I’ve just written this on my phone while camping in the middle of nowhere 😅 truly inspired by the outdoors hahah. Yes I’m sitting incredibly still in a spot that I found had cell service so I can upload this because I’m Impatient™️.

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: depressive thoughts, insecurities, A SICKENING AMOUNT OF FLUFF

+++

The truck’s packed. That’s the first thing you notice when you pull into the driveway, eyeing the bags chucked neatly in the bed of the vehicle. The brief sharp stab of panic that impales your heart is drowned by a sickening twist of understanding. Of course he’d leave — why would he want you? Why would he waste time being with you when he could do so much better? You don’t blame him. You wouldn’t get in his way of leaving.

The sigh that leaves you as you exit your car is long and drawn out, each step towards the house drains the low level of energy you had leftover after your shift and you wonder if you’ll be in Frankie’s way if you take up the couch to sleep. Will he want to take the couch? He had bought it, after all. The bed, then. He wouldn’t leave you without a bed — maybe he’ll come back for it tomorrow.

Frankie’s coming down the stairs when you walk through the door, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder and Mena giggling in his arms. God you’re gonna miss those little giggles. He smiles when he sees you, dropping the bag next to a bright pink unicorn one on the floor before striding over to you.

You’re stumped when he slings an arm around your waist and brings you in close, hips bumping together, and Mena immediately dives in to press a wet kiss against your cheek. He kisses the other, sharing a little smile with his little girl before looking at you.

“You’ve got 10 minutes to pack some clothes.” He says, and you blink, stomach rolling.

Oh. Maybe he was packing your stuff.

Of course, it’s his house.

It’s in his truck because you couldn’t possibly fit everything in your car. He was helping you move out. He didn’t have to—you could have called a removal company or something. He shouldn’t have to go out of his way, especially with Mena.

You’re sullen as you answer, brushing past him with a quiet okay. The stairs are hard to climb, but eventually you reach your bedroom. You try not to look at the photos lining the walls—pictures of Mena, of her with Frankie or you, of all three of you, of you and Frankie snuggled together on various dates and trips, scribbles deemed masterpieces plastered proudly in expensive frames. Maybe you could ask for a few copies, or take the originals if he was just going to throw the ones of you away. Which he would, of course, why would he keep them?

He’s left a duffle on the bed for you—his old army one. He loves this one. He uses it for everything. You make a mental note to make sure to return it.

Tears choke your throat as you pack the bag, and it’s not until strong arms wind around your waist that they fall free. You won’t say no to a final hug. You try to memorise the tightness of his arms, the feel of his beard along your skin as he buries his face in your neck.

“You ready? Mena’s getting cranky,” you hear the chuckle in his voice and nod your head. He must feel the tension in your torso because immediately he’s turning you, frowning at the tears streaking your face. “What’s wrong, baby?” He’s gentle as he wipes them from your cheeks, the pinch between his brows deepening as your face crumbles in his hands.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit, sniffling quietly, “but I will if that’s what you want. You and Mena deserve better.”

“What?”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not.” Soon your face is pressed hard against his chest and he’s crushing you, hand tight on the back of your head as he holds you. “You’re not going anywhere, not without us, anyway. We’re going on a trip. All three of us—together.”

A trip? Your mind is a whirl as you try to catch up. He wasn’t leaving you? Or, more accurately, you weren’t moving out? Suddenly the packed bags, especially Mena’s unicorn one, and packed truck make a little more sense to your darkened mind, and you instantly relax in his arms.

He pulls back, dark eyes sad as he studies your face.

Frankie had watched you the last few days; watched your mood sour, watched the bags below your eyes deepen. You’d barely been sleeping — he could feel you toss and turn all night, could feel the shudder in your shoulders as you tried to keep your sobs quiet in fear of waking him. He’d seen the look of utter defeat wash your face when you accidentally spilt the milk trying to make a coffee yesterday, seen the immediate glaze of tears as he wiped the spill away. You were gone before he could even turn and comfort you, the door slamming as you all but ran to your car.

He knew what was happening—could recognise the signs a mile away after having to defeat his own monster lurking in the back of his mind telling him he wasn’t good enough, reminding him of all the awful things he’d done in his life, what he’d done to others. He’d gone straight to work, said he wouldn’t be able to do any shifts on the weekend, and had left at lunch to start packing.

“I love you.”

Your face falls, head shaking in automatic denial.

“I do,” his touch is gentle, brushing more tears away with his thumbs. “I know you’ve been struggling lately. I’m sorry for not saying anything—I should’ve made it clear when you came home. We’re going camping for the weekend, unless you don’t feel up to it which is fine. We can just order a pizza, cuddle up on the couch and watch movies if that sounds better.” He smiles warmly, reassuringly, and you know in your heart that he really truly doesn’t mind what you decide to do.

How you ever landed Francisco Morales, you’ll never know.

“No, I want to go.”

“Are you sure? Please don’t be scared to say no—”

“I want to go.”

For the first time for what feels like all week, you smile, and actually mean it.

His eyes flick across your face, searching for any signs of hesitation, and then he grins, your eyes automatically falling to admire the dimple creasing his cheek. You kiss it instinctively, relief washing through you as your mind and hearts calms. He stops you as you pull away, leaning in and letting his nose run along yours before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He helps you put some clothes together, and with the two of you, you’re packed within a few minutes. He holds your hand on the way down the stairs, but stops to collect all the bags while you grab the little girl pulling at your legs. She babbles to you excitedly as you follow Frankie out of the house, her little fingers habitually pulling and fiddling with the chain around your neck.

You try to fend off the overwhelming feelings of unworthiness while you listen to Frankie talk animatedly back to Mena as you buckle her into her car seat, her little voice loud and bubbly as she claps her hands and bounces in her seat. You try to smile, try to reassure yourself that Frankie loves you, that Mena loves you, but you struggle truly believing it. How could they?

Music’s soon blaring throughout the cab of the truck as the familiar houses of your neighbourhood fly past, the Spotify playlist Frankie spent a good hour finding and adding songs to filling the quiet. He sings along, grinning at Mena’s attempts to sing along in her own little language, and when he looks at you, eyes shining with adoration, your chest feels tight and constricted.

You really didn’t deserve these two.

It takes a couple of hours to get to Frankie’s favourite spot—somewhere familiar to you from the many times he had taken you there. The small clearing is the same as it always has been, the large logs still situated around a small burnt patch of ground where leftover charred logs sat from previous campers. Frankie’s quick to erect the tent and organise the bedding inside, and soon he’s joining you and Mena at the edge of the wide lake glowing under the fading sun.

She’s dancing in the sand, little bare feet kicking up the grains as she twirls and twists and giggles when she goes too far and her toes touch the cool water. You sink to the ground and hug your legs, content to watch her enjoy the last bit of sunlight before it sinks beneath the horizon with a longing to feel as wild and carefree as she does.

“Papa!”

Frankie answers her call with a loud playful growl, and soon she’s squealing as he chases her across the sandbank. He catches her, throws her over his shoulder and spins, laughing at her wild screams of delight as he tickles her sides. Your chest warms, and the smile tugging at your lips is automatic as Mena runs on unsteady legs back to you, curls bouncing in her pigtails as she escapes Frankie’s arms and bolts to you for safety.

“Mama!” She climbs into your arms and your face drops in shock, wide eyes blinking up at Frankie who’s stopped dead behind her. The grin that widens his face practically blinds you, his eyes immediately shining with a sheen of tears as he drops beside you and smothers you both with a hug, pressing loud kisses to wherever he could reach. Mena giggles, pulling away to look between the pair of you with sparkling dark eyes. Little arms wind around both you and Frankie as she cuddles you close, her little head falling tiredly against your chest.

You catch Frankie looking at you, and return his fond gaze, smiling shyly under his admiration. The three of you snuggle together as the sun disappears, throwing bright hues of pink and orange across the cloudy sky, and finally, the tight feeling in your chest lessens under the pressure of two pairs of loving arms. Finally—you feel like you can breathe.

Frankie pipes up soon after the sun sets, “Who’s hungry?”

Mena’s head pops up instantly, the sleepiness that was just weighing her body down seemingly vanishing at the mention of food. She wiggles off your lap, and runs back to the campsite leaving you and Frankie chuckling quietly to yourselves as you follow. He and Mena sit together while he builds a fire, and you hear him talk through the process, Mena watching with curious eyes as he stacks the wood and lights it.

You all stay huddled together as the chill of the night drops over the camp site, sharing quiet laughs and keeping Mena entertained until her eyes start to drop. You stay mostly quiet, happy to just witness the two loves of your life share in each other’s affections.

Soon you and Frankie are left alone once Mena succumbs to sleep, and he brings two cups out with his phone playing quiet music, wiggling the bottle of whiskey he had hidden in his bag mischievously after putting her down in the tent. He pours a generous amount into both before sinking onto the log beside you, watching the flames dance in the dark before nudging you softly.

“Talk to me, baby.”

Sighing, your finger traces the rim of the cup and you shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. I just... I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”

He nods, “Has something happened?”

You purse your lips, thinking over the last few weeks. Nothing jumps out and you shrug again, frowning at the flames. “No. My head just... I don’t know. I’m happy with my life—I love you, more than anything, and Mena, too... my job is fine—everything’s fine, but... my head just...” you struggle to finish your sentence, frown deepening.

You’re not making any sense. You never make sense. How can you possibly turn the jumble of thoughts in your head into words and make him understand? You barely understood it all yourself. What did you have to be upset over? Your life was picture perfect. Perfect man, perfect daughter, perfect job, a home full of love... so many people had it worse. You shouldn’t feel the way you do.

You must’ve spoken aloud because the next minute Frankie is reaching for your hand, rubbing the skin soothingly.

“I get it.” He says quietly, shooting you a comforting smile when you blink up at him, tears filling your eyes. “Our minds can be cruel sometimes, but just because there are others out there who may have it worse doesn’t take away from how you feel. You matter, just as much as others.”

You don’t try to stop the tears that fall from your eyes, instead letting them fall down your cheeks in a heavy flow. He moves closer in response, moving the arm holding your hand around your shoulder and pulling you in close to his side. The warmth from his body seeps into yours and you take a shaky breath as the tears continue.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want to talk to someone? I know of a few good doctors around.”

Shaking your head, you lean your head on his shoulder and sigh deeply. “No, I think I’m alright for now, but if it gets worse...”

His arm tightens in response, and he nods quietly.

“I’m here for you, honey.” He murmurs, turning to kiss your forehead gently. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

You smile through your tears, turning to gaze up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Frankie.”

Quiet conversation starts up once the flow of tears dies off, and soon he has you in fits of laughter, the whiskey loosening the last bits of tension from your frame as it warms your insides. When Frankie’s favourite song comes on, he’s up before you can even make a comment, holding a hand out to you with a wide grin once he throws back the last of his drink and tosses his cup aside without a care.

“What?” You ask, eyeing his open palm with a grin.

“Dance with me.”

How could you ever say no? You couldn’t. Not to him. Your grin turns shy as you take his hand, letting him pull you up and off the log and into his frame. He holds you close, arms winding securely around you as you sway softly. The stars catch your attention when you rest your head on his shoulder, and you feel a lump growing in the back of your throat when Frankie starts to softly sing in your ear. It’s not depressive thoughts that have you on the verge of tears this time. Instead, your heart is damn near bursting, the flood of love for this man so strong you have to stop yourself from squeezing him too tight.

Your eyes flick to watch a shooting star, but instead of making a wish, you tuck yourself impossibly closer to Frankie. You didn’t need a wish—you had everything you needed already.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed