#when I finished the game I was still reeling for the rest of the weekend holy shit

[echolepzy]

Seeing other people experiencing ISAT for the first time is so fucking funny because like

Oh!!!! I remember how that felt! Yikes! Anyway keep going pal you’re doing great (silent screaming because It Gets Worse and yet nothing can be said without spoiling it)

[almostlake]

Hi! :3 20 for the Spotify wrapped + young royals game

Well thank you! #20 on my Spotify wrapped is no other than Wrong by Omar Rudberg. I really wanted to write and post in time for the 13th to reclaim the date for Wilmon. But I guess the 14th will have to do. In my head this Kristina (decent and good) kept in contact with Olga Tokarczuk after they met at the Nobel awards. Check her out if you haven't. Send me a number and I will try to write a ficlet based of that song.

Wrong

"I asked for one thing Wilhelm! To be able to finish this project with a good grade, before Christmas break!” Simon felt the December air turn his cheeks red as he stared exasperated at Wilhelm standing with hanging head, hands in pockets. Nudging at something on the ground. He had no right to look like an adorable puppy when Simon was so frustrated that they out of all people, had been paired up for the semester’s last assignment.

Stupid prince with stupid curtain hair and stupid cute smile and extremely stupid inherited privileges. Not at all making Simon feel things. That would be just as stupid as that stupidly checkered scarf he was wearing.

Simon tried to gather his thoughts and focus on the matter at hand, “Ok, so how should we go about this now then? You will have to leave when exactly? How much time do we lose?”

Wilhelm had the decency to look embarrassed as he answered, searching for Simon’s eyes instead of whatever had been annoying him on the ground, “tomorrow… and I will get back just in time to join Lucia. Apparently, Lucia is a good way for me keep up with the traditions, as if I haven’t celebrated it the last 15 years already” he ended with a scowl.

And that was just the thing, Simon had thought that the prince was different from the other stuck-up guys at this annoying school that care more about who your parents are and know than about how well you succeed in class.

They had shared moments like this all through the week; Wilhelm scowling at the same things Simon scowled at, being surprisingly in tune with how they wanted to handle the project. Laughing at the same stupid reels and humming about Tumblr posts, not feeling as though they had only exchanged nonsensicals before the pairing but instead already knew one another.

Maybe that was the reason it stung so much, he thought he had been proven wrong in his assumptions, that Wilhelm weren’t like the rest of them, that he did care about the academics and didn’t rely on his legacy, that he secretly had contempt for the system he was a part of. He had felt as if they had a real connection. 

“…So that removes a week for us. I promise I will make it up to you, we can work the whole weekend after Lucia, I really will… I can fix…” Simon barely heard the excuses and empty words that kept pouring out.

“That scarcely leaves us with enough time to merge and finalise our writing Your Highness, and definitely no time to work out a stellar presentation,” venom dripped from Simon’s voice. “I understand that you have important business to attend to, I need to catch the bus so that I can go home and rest before I start to do the same work as the two of us combined.” He did not feel bad about the look of devastation he left Wilhelm with as he turned around and left him standing alone out in the cold. He’d brought it onto himself.

Surprisingly Rosh and Ayub almost defended the prince, apparently Simon was overreacting, and “school assignments couldn’t be that important that it merited this much whining”.

“Not that big of a deal?! I will have to do schoolwork on evenings and the weekend...”

Rosh had thrown a pillow on his head, “you do that anyway. Prince or not, this is the first guy over at your fancy school that you have made friends with,” Rosh and Ayub made weird eyes towards each other. “And he might still contribute.”

And he did. Every time Simon logged on there were amendments and suggestions in their shared document. Wilhelm even left a comment that he had figured out how they would get the plus in A+ for the presentation, but Simon would have to wait since how apparently couldn’t be shared until they were face to face again.

In no time it was Friday the 13th and Lucia, with the whole royal family attending. Which Simon didn’t feel at all nervous about as Wilhelm dragged him towards them for introductions after the procession. When the queen herself complemented his singing and the prince consort thanked him for helping their son focus on schoolwork Simon didn’t know what to answer, feeling a heat to his cheeks that surely contrasted to the white gown as he replied with small polite words.

Simon tried to get reassurance from Wilhelm when he saw the boy franticly whisper and jab elbows on ribs with his brother.

Their mother noticed at the same time, “Really boys? Can’t we manage one last short event in public without you two bickering after keeping it together all week?”

“Apologies, mom.” The crown prince took a step forward, reaching out a hand towards Simon. “I was just trying to explain to Wille that I wanted to greet this amazingly kind person that have been dealing with Wille’s antics with such grace.

Feeling more confusion than warmth this time, Simon saw pinkish colour rise on Wilhelm’s cheeks before he mouthed "Wille? " towards him.

“Thank you Erik, Simon and I need to talk now, bye.”

Simon heard something sounding very much like - sure you will do only… quelled by an inaudible reprimand from Wilhelm’s mother. 

“Sorry about Erik, so annoying,” rolling his eyes Wilhelm smiled at Simon, leaning against a desk in the empty classroom. “Ok don’t be mad, but I used my princely privilege, and I have gotten us a video interview with Olga Tokarczuk tomorrow.” Simon’s jaw dropped, interviewing the person their project was about would do wonders for their grade.

Without thinking he sprang on Wilhelm, hugging tight and feeling the other wrap his arms equally hard around himself. “You have a habit of proving me wrong Wilhelm, that is spectacular use!”

“Please,” Wilhelm separated them only a hands width and fixed his eyes on Simon’s, “can you call me Wille?”

[flyingwargle]

natsu is in the nurse’s office while the aforementioned nurse is speaking with her brother in the hallway, their voices low with scattered words drifting toward her. she knows they're finished when hinata says, “thank you very much for all your help. i’ll take care of her.”

she hops off the cot and grabs her bag as he returns to her. “are we going home?” she mumbles.

“yeah, yamaguchi is waiting for us. thank you, again.” hinata bows to the nurse. “we’ll keep in touch.”

they exit the school building and head for the parking lot, where yamaguchi awaits. her brother was with him when he got the call, apparently. natsu gives him a small bow before climbing in the backseat, putting her bag in between her and hinata. yamaguchi starts the car. “should i just drop you off at home?”

“yes, please,” hinata says. his friend nods and starts driving toward the main road.

natsu avoids conversation by staring out the window, watching the mountain scenery blur by. hinata and yamaguchi make small talk, discussing a dinner with their friends over the weekend, and a possible guest appearance at a volleyball club before he returns to osaka. their home appears on the horizon, and natsu doesn’t wait for the engine to stop to unclick her seatbelt. “thank you, yama-nii.”

she reaches the front door first, fishes her keys out to unlock it. hinata joins her, kicks his shoes off after her. he switches on the lights after natsu walks by, heading straight to her room. “natsu, wait.”

hinata is quiet, patient. natsu rests a hand on her door, head bowed. “do you want to talk about it?” he asks. “the nurse said you collapsed from overworking. are you feeling pressured? is there anything you need help with?”

he sounds so concerned. she kind of wishes he wasn’t. “no.”

“you're probably hungry. i'll make dinner.”

she shrugs, entering her room without another word. behind the door, her brother calls out, “i’ll let you know once it’s ready!” it isn’t often that he comes home to visit, usually just for a few days at a time throughout the year. they call and text daily, and natsu is usually proud to be hinata shoyo’s younger sister.

but sometimes, it’s more of a burden than she’d like to admit.

not wanting to nap while she’s still sweaty, she sits on the floor with her phone, scrolling aimlessly through instagram. she and her teammates follow each other, tagged in one another’s photos from their hangouts, short clips from practice that show successful serves, sets, and spikes. she comes across a post from jva, which is a highlights reel of impressive plays during the last season. her brother’s miraculous save during the hornets game is one of the first shown.

it doesn’t make sense to be jealous. there’s nothing to compare; he’s a professional athlete, and she’s still in high school. just because they're related doesn’t mean she has the same jumping height, flexibility, or adaptability. his skills come from years of practice, discipline, and experience. while she does the same, it isn’t at the same level, not when she has school, friends, and other hobbies. she isn’t a volleyball idiot like her brother, even though she loves it, too. she isn’t him.

and yet people continue to think that she is.

her phone screen becomes blurry. natsu puts it aside, rubs her eyes to stop the tears, but they keep coming. her thoughts are a jumbled mess. i want to be like him.

 i’m not like him.

he’s on a different level than me, and i can’t reach it.

if i train hard enough, i could pass him.

he’s an asset to his team, and i’m just another spiker.

i can be valuable too, if i can do half the things he does.

i don’t want to embarrass him. i don’t want him to have a little sister who sucks at volleyball–

knocks interrupt her thoughts. “natsu?”

she buries her head under her blanket as the door opens. hinata hesitates for a moment before he asks, “what are you doing?”

“what do you want?” natsu asks, grateful that her voice didn’t waver.

"the fridge is empty, so i thought to order takeout." he sits on the edge of her bed. “what are you craving?”

“it doesn’t matter. whatever is okay.”

“all right.” still, he doesn’t leave.

this sucks. natsu needs to clear her nose, tears still pooling in her eyes, staining her bed sheet. when she exhales, it’s through a shudder, which is all her brother needs to hear. “you aren’t fine, natsu. will you talk to me about it? unless…” he falls silent. “unless the problem is me?”

“no.” she sniffles.

“it is. i know you’re terrible at lying.”

natsu throws the blanket off her head to face him, red-eyed, nose streaming. “fine, it is. these girls in my class keep comparing me to you, saying that i’m an embarrassment to the team, and i- i don’t deserve to be on the court with how terrible i am.” her words turn into a mumble. “my jump serves suck. my crosses are all over the place. i don’t know how to aim my wipes. then there’s you, who can do everything and more, and i- i’m just–“

“let me stop you there, natsu.” his hand grips her shoulder, firm and reassuring. “first, those girls don’t know anything; you can’t compare a high school athlete to a pro. second, don’t just focus on the negative, but the positive. your defense is solid, and so are your straights. i’ve seen you play – it’s because of you that your teammates can score. i know it might feel like you aren’t good enough, but are we, ever?”

“do you ever think that?” natsu murmurs.

“of course. i think of how powerful bokuto-san’s spikes are all the time, or how omi-san can get so many service aces, or how atsumu-san can pull off just about any set. and me? sure, i’m an all-rounder, but there’s nothing that i’m really good at–“

“no, that’s not true! you can score so many points with your wipes! and your jumping height only gets higher and higher, like you’ll touch the sky! and, and–“

hinata laughs, catching natsu by surprise. he smiles at her, raising his hand to ruffle her hair. “you should hear yourself. if you can say all of that to me and believe it, then you should believe me when i tell you what you’re good at. we all grow at our own pace, natsu. i know you feel pressed for time since you’re in your second year, but it’s okay. you’re doing all you can, and you don’t need to do more.”

“but what if the team loses because of me?” she whispers.

“there are six of you on the court. if you lose, it’s the team that loses.” he squeezes her shoulder. “tell me what you want to eat. while we wait, i can show you some clips of pros messing up to make you feel better."

“do they include miya-san?”

he grins. “of course.”

they settle at the table together, crowded around his tablet, waiting for the food to arrive. when it does, they eat, continue to laugh at miya (natsu makes sure to laugh at other players, too) and himself, the tension from earlier in the day fading.

before it’s time for bed, hinata approaches her. “natsu, don’t ever think we’re the same. that’s because you’re you, and you have your own way of playing. no matter how you play or what you do, i’ll always be proud of you.”

her hand is on the doorknob, a smile on her face. “thanks, nii-chan. i appreciate that.”

“get some rest. i’ll bring you to practice and show those girls a lesson.”

“no, nii-chan, you better not!” her laugh is a warm sound that echoes through the night.

[saintsenara]

an ask from @spacecadette on this game has, i regret to say, made me go feral... the rest of the answers to your questions are coming in the queue but let's dive into the one i thought deserved its own post:

say something about your ships that you want to say!

so... a musing on the five couples i said i'd play this ask game with - and then, for additional fun, some i didn't - on a crucial question:

are they barbie people or oppenheimer people?

answers under the cut:

bellamort: lord voldemort was definitely not traumatised by the second world war and it's ridiculous to suggest otherwise. they're seeing oppenheimer, and bella only has to hold his hand for about half of it.

riddledore: barbie. absolutely no doubt about it.

snack: they were going to go and see oppenheimer but they had an argument which culminated in them fucking over the kitchen table and missed the showing.

snapemort: they do the double, because it's important to be thorough, and they only have three or four arguments on which film to see first.

tomarry: front of the line for barbie. each of them thinks the other is the ken in their relationship.

-

barty crouch jr/voldemort: oppenheimer.

deamus: dean was the art director for barbie. they're at the premiere. seamus reports back to anyone who'll listen that ryan gosling is an angel.

dramione: they do the double. draco thinks both films are about the dangers of mixing with muggles. they break up for the sixth time that month.

drarry: barbie. draco is assumed to be in costume by the staff at the cinema.

dron: they're both hooked on the fourth test and don't leave the house for four days.

fleurmione: omar el zohairy's feathers, followed by barbie.

flonks: barbie, but they spent the entire time making out.

grindeldore: oppenheimer, obviously.

harmony: are a terrible couple who loathe spending time with each other. oppenheimer.

hinny: barbie. james announces, furiously, that this means he can never go to see it now, because harry loved it so much.

jegulus: i don't know her, sorry.

jily: the vhs of when harry met sally they've had since 1991.

linny: indiana jones, which luna thinks is a documentary.

lucissa: 'we've never heard of a cinema and the implication that you saw us watching gentlemen prefer blondes at the curzon last friday is insulting.'

marge dursley/dolores umbridge: neither, they're at a dog show.

minerva mcgonagall/wilhelmina grubby-plank: they're still recovering at their house on mull from the reeling at filius' wedding.

pavender: do you even need to ask?

poppy pomfrey/pomona sprout: barbie.

prongsfoot: mission impossible.

remadora: they do the double, see barbie first, love it, get bored halfway through oppenheimer, get arrested for public indecency.

romione: initially attempting to be cerebral, they go to see asteroid city, despite the fact that ron truly does not fuck with wes anderson. they come back the next day, bicker over popcorn choices, see barbie, and have a wonderful time.

ronarry: barbie, in matching hot pink tracksuits.

scorbus: they were going to see barbie. they forgot.

snarry: severus mysteriously has potions which need finishing whenever there's a showing of either.

snily: after some spectacular arguing, they do the double, oppenheimer first. severus pretends he didn't like barbie more.

snucius: la traviata at the royal opera house, barbie - separately - the following day.

taco: barbie. in this case both draco and tom understand inherently that draco is the ken.

tombraxas: barbie. abraxas thinks the costuming is exquisite. tom just thinks it's nice the colour saturation means you can see the film.

wolfstar: they are on holiday over opening weekend. they see barbie in spanish. remus cries.

[leavesdriftinginthewind]

Fic Author Self-Rec

@therulerofallpotatos tagged me in this sweet little game yesterday, but I was hellbent on getting my Weyler Week Day 7 story finished, so I'm doing it today!

Rules: Reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

I've only written seven fics so far, six of which were for Weyler, and five of which written specifically for Weyler Week, SO this may feel like a bit of a rehash of my postings this past week, but that's okay!

wake up screaming from dreaming was my first Weyler story and I spent months working on it. It's still probably my most favorite thing I've written so far! I was nervous writing from Wednesday's POV because she's such a particular character, but I honestly felt like I nailed both her and Tyler's characterizations in this one. I'm still a bit blown away by how many people read it, seeing as it was my AO3 debut, and totally shocked by the sheer amount of favorite Weyler authors of mine that commented on it, letting me know just how much they enjoyed it.

paper rings was intended to be a Weyler proposal one-shot but it went and turned itself into my first-ever multichapter fic! It's not debuted on AO3 as well as I've hoped BUT it's one of the things I enjoyed writing the most. It'll be an absolutely fluffy little ride that also has some quality bonding time between Tyler and Donovan. I'm hoping it finds its audience as the rest of the chapters get shared. Will be updating on Saturdays in case anyone's interested! <3

you can't be gone was my first go at proper Weyler angst, and I tried out a "stream of consciousness" writing style to match how I felt Tyler's mind was reeling by his last encounter with Wednesday in S1E8. It was rather depressing to write my boy struggling so terribly, but it was great to put my thoughts of how their infamous encounter in the woods unfolded from his POV down in a story.

Quads and Countermoves was a story I managed to churn out in a measly four days, which is RECORD time for me (most of my stories so far took me AT LEAST a week to write from beginning to end). It's a funny, sweet, snuggly one-shot in which Tyler insists Wednesday take a nap, but she insists on being a bit difficult. It was also my first go at dipping my toes into more physically intimate territory with the two of them (although it was quite literally child's play compared to the smut many of the fantastic Weyler authors write!), so that was fun for me to write!

For my last rec, I'm actually sharing the link to The Demon Soul, my first EVER fanfic I wrote manyyyy moons ago and published on fanfiction.net. For having written it when I was just 16, it actually holds up rather well! It's a Destiel/DeanCas fic that I wrote after the Supernatural S9 finale. I'm considering dragging it over to AO3 just so it can live with the rest of my writing!

As far as tagging five authors goes, I know many of the ones I follow posted theirs this weekend, but I don't believe I saw any yet from @nouklea @chaoticstupiddm @cosmic-lullaby @badmoodbatflowers and @galpinlvr!

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[x-infernhoes-x]

Dangerous Game- Dominic x Reader [SMUT]

Dominic aka Hot Aswang Leader, Abswang, Zadddy Aswang x Reader

Warnings (?):  Smut, Blood, Biting, Implied Relationship, Implied Consent, Dominic being slightly possessive? M A R K I N G S, Oral (female receiving), THEY BE GOING AT IT NON-STOP

Genre: Good Ol’ Fashioned Forbidden Love (if there’s a genre like that LMAO)

Description: I wrote this at 3:40 am last night while listening to Dangerous Game from the Broadway Musical, Jeykll and Hyde and my brain immediately went, why not coconut? So have this little brain fart I just got when I’m supposed to be sleeping. Come get y’alls juice Dominic simps. Also, reader is AFAB but I’ll try my hand at a gender-neutral one if ever I get possessed by the spirits of determination, diligence and inspiration. Also included a Bridgerton reference there and maybe an Ang Darling Kong Aswang reference too kasi why the fuck not.

PS. I’ve managed to finish this up sometime around 2:45 am today and yes I did sleep last night/yesterday and no, I didn’t spend my whole weekend writing this fic. Maybe.

He knew this was all sorts of wrong from the start and yet here he was, standing within the bed chambers of the woman he burns for more than anything in this world and a strong and almost otherworldly desire that only could be satiated by being with her. Dominic knew that his kind and his lover’s kind would be at odds due to how their nature was as a creature of the night to prey on humans. Although despite this, he was feeling hopeful that his relationship with his beloved would last. As the Aswang Prince, he was well aware that was happening around the clans he ruled over and he also knew of the union of Elisa who happened to be one of his people and her now husband, Victor. He also knew about the bloodshed that had taken place during that time and how it led to the civil unrest and rebellion within the tribes of his kind that rages on up until this day.

The wind from the open window where he had come from seemed to rage on and about outside as if there was a storm brewing. There before him stood (y/n) clad in her sleepwear with her back facing him, dark eyes wide in disbelief and brows furrowed in uncertainty and the Aswang Prince could tell from the way she stood and presented herself that she was thinking about the same thing as him. Shrugging off his coat, he then took a step forward towards his beloved who seemed to be unmoving before him, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, his sharp nails gently running down the tense woman’s arms, back before halting to a stop on her neck and stomach with a gentle yet vice-like grip, his face gently nuzzling against her warm skin, breathing in her scent like a drug.

I feel your fingers- Brushing my shoulder- Your tempting touch, As it tingles my spine- Watching your eyes As they invade my soul- Forbidden pleasures I'm afraid to make mine.

“D-Dominic, what are you doing…?” His lover would ask, trying her best to pull herself away from the prince, breath hitched in her throat, soft lips trapped in between her teeth. “Hindi natin tong pwedeng ipagpatuloy….delikado na.” Tilting her head towards him, Dominic responded to her, breath ghosting over her lips, “I know…Pero wala na akong pakilam kung mahuli pa tayong dalawa.” Before he would bestow his lover a searing and passionate kiss hotter than the flames of hell and the santelmo could ever conjure, his hands relinquishing their hold upon her throat as they made their way down past her shoulders, breasts and stomach only to disappear between the valley of her thighs where his fingers would make quick work of her folds, already dripping wet with her arousal, making his lover groan out in pleasure, his hips bucking against her backside.

At the touch of your hand- At the sound of your voice- At the moment your eyes meet mine- I am out of my mind- I am out of control- Full of feelings I can't define!

With Dominic’s left hand still relentlessly working upon his lover’s heat, he could feel (Y/N)’s hands attempt to push him away once more, her chest heaving and skin flushed a deep red, letting out a fragile keen of his name escape her lips before he took a step back once he felt her tug on his jeans, a hint for him to take off what was left of his clothing, the thick plume of desire that once clouded his mind seemed to dissipate when he felt his own arousal escape the confines of his now discarded garments as he let out a moan of his own once he saw (Y/N) drop her night dress to the ground, awakening something primal within him, eyes drinking in every single curve, dip and imperfections that his lover had. To him, (Y/N) was the most beautiful woman he had set his sights on regardless of what she would say and it was pretty ironic to say that an Aswang like him was starting to believe that God was real and that God was definitely a woman that took the form of his lover who was perfect in every way.

It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game!

With their lips pressed together in a heated kiss that seemed to drive them both wild, the raven haired Prince of the night drew back with a low snarl, his teeth trapping her lips between his enough to draw blood as he pulled away with a smirk, the dark red liquid staining both of their lips as he spoke, voice raspy and deep, “I’ll make sure that you’ll only feel me and only me tonight and leave marks on your skin as a symbol of my love. Sa akin ka lang at ako sayo, naiintindihan mo ba?” his words seemed to send chills down the quivering woman’s spine as he dragged his sharp nails down against her soft flesh, his lips and occasionally his tongue and fangs would trail lower and lower, his face disappearing between her legs, eating her out like a starved beast, his nose brushing against the soft bundle of nerves, hands gripping her thighs and hips tightly with his unnatural strength, his nails dug into her flesh, which left miniscule bleeding marks where Dominic held her, his eyes boring into hers, drinking in the sounds (Y/N) made like fine wine.

It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game! A darker dream That has no ending Something unreal That you want to be true.

They’ve done this a million of times but Dominic would never get tired of hearing his lover’s needy pleas for him whenever they made love like this, his fingers would tease her entrance relentlessly, watching her squirm and thrash upon her mattress with an almost sadistic delight. He loved how she would beg for him, how her body reacted to his fervent touches and how breathless she would get after he would kiss her. He loved every second of it and it was safe to say that Dominic was proud of himself to be able to make his beloved to become like this and all for his eyes only. After a few more flicks of his devilishly talented tongue, Dominic then pulled away a grin plastered on his face while his partner mewled rather pathetically, almost as if to ask him why he ceased his relentless teasing just as she was this close on reaching her much needed release and was surprised to feel two of his fingers enter her, curling and twisting inside of her clenching walls that made Dominic groan the same time his love had yelped and screamed his name out like a desperate prayer and all at once his fingers came out of her with a satisfying ‘pop’, admiring how her juices coated his fingers and glistened in the dim lighting of her room like ambrosia.

A strange romance Out of a mystery tale The frightened princess Doesn't know what to do!

Does she just run away? Does she risk it and stay? Either way, there's no way to win! All I know is, I'm lost And I'm counting the cost My emotions are in a spin! And though no one's to blame...

“Here, have a taste of yourself.” Dominic stated, pressing his fingers against (Y/N)’s lips, which of course the overstimulated woman took in with such eagerness, sucking on his digits like how she would suck on a lollipop, her gaze hazy and pupils blown, almost turning themselves as dark as the night and that was enough for Dominic to enter her without warning but had enough preparation for him, her moans silenced by the fingers that were still in her mouth, her tongue now swirling around them making him growl against the junction of her shoulder and neck, his fangs piercing the skin there as well before he pulled his fingers away from her mouth, replacing it with his own, not minding the slight metallic taste from the incisions he had left a few moments ago.

It's a crime and a shame! But it's true, all the same It's a dangerous game!

No one speaks- Not one word- All the words are in our eyes Silence speaks Loud and clear- All the words we want to hear! It was an all lips, tongue and teeth type of kiss that seemed to flare both of their senses up into overdrive and making the lovers both drunk and high off of the euphoria they were sharing. Both of their bodies rocking against each other, their hands grasping whatever their fingers could touch, grab and tug at. Dominic could feel (Y/N)’s nails run down from his shoulders and down to his back, edging him to go as fast as he could on her, his hair sticking haphazardly onto his now sweaty skin, hips furiously slamming into her with no breaks at all. Dominic was living for it and this action alone made him hoist (Y/N)’s leg up to rest upon his shoulder while the other one snuck behind her, reeling the woman in closer by her haunches, both of them moaning in delight. At that moment they both couldn’t care less about the sounds they made, the important thing was that they were both here together, regardless of what the consequences that would soon bestow upon them.

What happened next between them was all a blur save for the things they’ve done in one whole night. Dominic took (Y/N) to great heights with him making love to her continuously, he had her pressed against the wall with him taking her from behind, on the floor, on her dresser, on every possible surface and position he could think of down to the point where the two of them did it in front of the mirror where he would watch his length disappear within her and the way her breasts would bounce every single time he would thrust into her, his hand would grip on her throat and would tighten slightly, lips would ghost over her ear whispering a string of curses and words that would give Satan himself a run for his money and his lover would respond to every word he would say with a moan or a mantra of his name and it was a sign that she was close, coming for whatever time that night and he was nearing his climax too from the way he was holding her against him.

I am losing my mind- I am losing control- Full of feelings I can't define! It's a sin with no name Like a tiger to tame and though no one's to blame It's a crime and a shame And the angels proclaim It's a dangerous game!

“D-dom, I-I’m close!!” (Y/N) cried out with tears in her eyes the moment Dominic had thrown her upon her bed, her toes curling and hands balled up into fists, . “Then come with me, my love. I w-want to see you break.” The prince would respond as he pulled her into a tight embrace, still rocking against her like there was no tomorrow and soon enough, they both came together leaving (Y/N) mumbling out his name like a babbling child, her insides coated with his own juices as she shakily held into her, both trembling from the extreme ecstasy they both felt.

Once they both had come down from their respective highs, the Aswang Leader could only pull his face back from its previous position from (Y/N)’s shoulder, his touch soft and light as he brushed away some strands away from her face with a soft smile as the two basked in the afterglow of their passionate love making, the two would merely hold entwine each other’s hands as a silent promise to never let go of each other before Dominic pressed a sweet kiss upon it. “Mahal kita.” He spoke firmly, eyes full of love, warmth and vulnerability that only she was allowed to see as the female responded with a kiss and a soft smile before saying, “Mahal din kita, Dominic.”  And soon the two lovers fell asleep, with their bodies pressed up against each other.

It's a dangerous game! Such a dangerous game...

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 4 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.8k holy shit i am so sorry- 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, plot 🤢🤮, smut within smut (mentions of marking, pet names/degrading names), anal toys (plug), jeongin wears feminine underwear, nipple clamps, mentions of rule breaking/punishment, begging, face sitting, praise, degradation, mentions (not use) of safe word, pegging, the obvious overuse of the word “mommy” and “ma’am”, aftercare, buttered pasta :)

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The sound of his own foot tapping was enough to make him more anxious than he already was, and the light shining through the window directly onto his shiny desk to reflect on his eye wasn’t helping. He’s practiced the conversation a million times over in his head. The plan was simple: class ends, ask Professor Lee about his missing journal, and get it back. How hard could it be?

Evidentially, pretty damn hard. All throughout class, Professor Lee was staring at Jeongin, picking on him when no one else would answer easy questions, and overall making his life a living hell just by his presence. 

“Yang Jeongin, come see me.” Minho sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looks up at the clock on the wall of his classroom. “The rest of you are dismissed.” 

Ending class 15 minutes early was extraordinarily unusual for Professor Lee, but the other students hardly batted an eye as they collected their belongings and shuffled out of the room, leaving as Jeongin stepped up to his professor’s desk. He was practically sweating bullets at this point, all of his plans flowing out of his head with every step. The glare Professor Lee was giving Jeongin was intimidating to say the least, but Lee Minho knew all too well what he was going to say.

“You wanted to speak to me, sir?” Jeongin tilts his head, standing over his professor, giving the illusion that Jeongin had the upper hand in this situation. 

“Yes, Jeongin. You left your notebook behind last class, and I just wanted to give it back to you.” Professor Lee opens his top desk drawer, pulling out Jeongin’s journal and holding it out in his hand towards Jeongin. Before his student could grab it, he pulled away, reeling Jeongin in like a fish. “You really ought to be more careful with your stuff. Don’t want anyone else getting their hands on this, do we?” 

Jeongin shakes his head, holding his hand out, patiently waiting for his teacher to put the book into his hand. The room is coated in silence despite the chatter from the hall. Jeongin can feel his heart beating out of his chest, trying his best not to jump over the desk and snatch the journal out of his professor’s hands. 

“So, do you like writing?” The smirk stretching across Professor Lee’s smug face is breaking Jeongin. He feels this odd sense of deja vu on top of the overwhelming anxiety. Jeongin nods again, slightly shaking his outstretched hand, urging his professor to finally hand it over. “Is that what this journal is for? Writing?” 

“Professor Lee, can I please have my journal back? I have another class to get to, sir.” Jeongin dodges the question like a professional, but Professor Lee isn’t satisfied. He laughs in Jeongin’s face, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy’s wit.

“I ended class early. You have plenty of time to talk, Yang Jeongin.” Professor Lee stands up, walking to the other side of his desk and pulling out another chair from a student desk. “Sit down, take a load off. You’re one of my star students. I’d like to get to know you.” 

“Aright, professor.” Jeongin’s staring at the journal, loosely dangling from his professor’s hand. Still, he sits in the uncomfortable chair as the older man leans on his desk, facing the boy. Jeongin holds out his hand again, looking up at his professor with emotionless eyes, desperate to leave this room and go home, because him saying he has another class was a complete lie. Just for right now, Professor Lee wants to play a little game with Jeongin, a game the younger doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

“You don’t have to call me professor. Right now, you can call me Minho.” Jeongin nods, slouching in the chair. “You never answered my question, Jeongin. What do you write in this journal? Notes for class I’d assume.”

“Yeah, notes for class.” Jeongin’s voice cracks as he looks back at the journal, Minho now having one of his fingers between the pages. He winces just imagining what his professor would think if he read a single paragraph on any page. “I need them to study, so can I have it back now?” 

“Well, if it’s just notes, then you’re okay with me reading it, right?” Minho jolts his arm up, opening the book to a random page. Jeongin’s about to run out of the room in embarrassment before Minho holds a hand up, successfully stopping him. “C’mon, Jeongin. Do you honestly think I haven’t already read this?”

If Jeongin had anything in his stomach right now, he’d surely throw up. You reading the journal was one of his fantasies come to life, but this was a bit overkill. He’d never want anyone other than you to read his journal, let alone one of his professors.

“What’s got you so quiet now?” Minho raises the pitch of his voice to taunt Jeongin, playing up the scene. “You’ve had the audacity to write about Y/n in this book nearly every single class, but now that you’ve been caught, you bite your tongue?” 

“Don’t say her name!” Jeongin gets extremely defensive, standing out of the seat to be the same height as his professor. “What do you want from me? Just give me the journal and I’ll go. I’ll even switch out of this class if you want. I don’t care!” 

“Aw, Jeonginnie~” Minho rests his face on his hand, holding his own cheek as he watches Jeongin’s face get red with anger. “Just tell me, how is Y/n doing?” 

“How do you know Y/n?” Jeongin’s confused, unable to connect the pieces to this puzzle. 

“You’re not as smart as you let on.” Minho gets closer to Jeongin, getting right in his face to scare the young boy. “I was her husband. We were your neighbors.”

Jeongin could feel his legs shake, finally connecting every conversation, every question, every action. He steps back, vision going blurry as he’s flooded with memories of seeing none other than Lee Minho in your front lawn, playing with his daughters in the back, or sneaking out to a taxi late at night towards the end of his memories. Jeongin didn’t know your name until he started working for you, let alone know your estranged husband’s name. He felt like such a dumbass at this moment.

“So, how is she?” Minho puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, forcing Jeongin to focus on him. “If you’re going to fuck my ex wife, you could at least tell me how she’s doing.”

“She’s doing well, certainly a lot better without you.” Minho scoffs, laughing at Jeongin’s weak attempt at a diss. 

“And the girls are doing well?” 

“Yup. I watch them every night after my classes.” Jeongin folds his arms, turning his chin up at Minho. How soon he forgets that Minho still has his precious journal.

“So that’s where she gets ya, huh?” Minho brings the notebook back to his face, flipping to a random page, putting his finger on a random line. “Is that where she, in your words, ‘gripped your cock like you’ve wanted her to for so long’? Or did that happen later?”

Half of Jeongin’s brain is struggling to come up with a response, while the other half is thinking about the first time you gave him a blowjob. He’s clenching his fists with anger, hoping Minho didn’t see him starting to pop a boner. 

“What goes on between us is none of your business.” Jeongin jumps forward, finally snatching his journal out of Minho’s hands. He holds his journal tightly in his hands, clutching it close to his chest. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Just as Jeongin turns around to get his bookbag, Minho grabs his wrist and turns him around, once again finding each other inches away from the other’s face. 

“She didn’t tell you anything about me, did she?” Jeongin shakes him off, rapidly walking back to his desk to get his bag. “Answer me, little boy.”

“She’s never said a word about you, Minho.” Jeongin goes for the door, finally seeing his exit within his sights. “Now leave me alone. I’ll see you on Thursday, sir.”

And with that, he’s out. Finally within possession of his journal, he minds his business walking down the hall, heading back to his house that’s less than a 10 minute walk from the campus. 

Just wait until Y/n hears about this.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“He really hasn’t changed at all.” You stare out the window, taking a sip of tea from your mug as Jeongin finishes retelling the entire story to you. “I’m proud of you, Jeongin.”

“Proud of me? Why?” 

“You handled him very well. Any other boy your age would have crumbled under the pressure.” You sit next to him on the couch, putting your hand on his thigh more as comfort than a tactic to get into his pants. Regardless of your intentions, Jeongin can’t help but blush and bite his lip being the horny boy he is. “Lee Minho has a way with words. His charm worked on me in high school, and I’m sure it works on the other students in his classes.”

“Oh yeah, all the girls have crushes on him.” Jeongin covers his mouth with his hands when he realizes what he says. You just giggle at him, recalling some of the sweet, romantic moments you had with your ex-husband before everything went to shit. 

“Well, you know, the girls are going to his house this weekend. Maybe you should come over?” You ride your hand up his thigh teasingly, making Jeongin freeze as if he hasn’t had sex with you literally days earlier. “I’m always so worried about the girls when they’re with him. Maybe you can help me destress, baby boy.” 

“I’ll help you destress, mommy!” Jeongin smiles, mentally clearing his schedule for this weekend. “Can I ask something though?” 

“Ask away, baby. I’m an open book.” You lean back, one arm flailing behind your head as you take another sip from your mug.

“Why did you two… separate?” Jeongin cringes at his own words, realizing he might have crossed a line as your facial expression changes from a soft smile to a frown. “I’m just curious, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll tell you.” You huff as you sit up, swinging your arms forward so you can straighten your back. “He started acting distant out of nowhere, and some nights I’d wake up to find him gone from his side of the bed. A quick glance at his phone and I saw texts from another woman. I’d rather not get into gruesome details, but that’s the jist of it.”

“You don’t have to get into details. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jeongin shakes his head, leaning on your shoulder to comfort you. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to you. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“No, thank you for asking. It feels good to get these things off of my chest.” You sigh, feeling an odd sense of relief. You’ve never talked to anyone about this other than a therapist you had for a brief time before work took over your life.

“So… was he a sub like me?” You nearly spit out your tea, Jeongin sitting up and patting your back to stop you from coughing on the drink. “Sorry! Sorry!” 

You can’t help but laugh at the curious boy, his face getting redder than you’ve ever seen. That’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed in a while. 

“Do you really want to know?” You raise an eyebrow, Jeongin covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“I mean… a little.” He uncovers one eye, looking at your cheerful expression and immediately calming down after seeing you aren’t mad. “You’re good at… ya know. You have to have experience being a dom, right?” 

“Actually, I’ve always been the submissive. Do you really think the egoist Lee Minho would let someone else be in control?” You laugh at your own remark, Jeongin catching on and laughing with you. “But thank you for saying I’m good at sex I guess. Although, I don’t know how much of a compliment that is considering you’re a virgin” 

“Hey! I’m not a virgin anymore!” The red-as-a-tomato Jeongin makes a return as you laugh at his defensiveness. “Can I ask… one more question?”

“Jeez, are you interviewing me or something?” You take another sip of your tea as you gesture for the boy to ask away. He gulps, calculating his final question before he has to go home.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” Pause. You stare at the floor, thinking critically to yourself. How can you let down your sweet little boy without breaking his poor heart?

“Jeongin, you know we can’t be together.” You take one of his hands in your free hand, squeezing his fingers between yours as he nods, looking down at his legs. “I’m over 10 years older than you. That would be absurd.” 

“What if no one knows?” He’s really harping on this, huh? “Or can we be another title? Maybe friends with benefits?” 

“Yang Jeongin,” your quiet, commanding voice makes Jeongin look into your eyes, seeing the seriousness in your expression, “I’m your mother’s friend, not yours. I’m not sure how to define our relationship, but if you really want a label, we can be… sex partners. But no one can know that, alright?” 

“I understand.” Jeongin squeezes your hand back, allowing a comforting silence to fill the room. “So, this weekend?” 

“You can come over Friday night. He takes the girls in the morning, but I have work for the first half of the day. I took the weekend off, though, so I’m all yours, pretty boy.” You kiss his lips, getting caught in the taste before you pull back, stay your goodbyes, and send him home for the night before you go to bed for yourself.

When Jeongin gets back to his room, he sighs and takes out his journal, cracking his fingers before laying the pencil on the paper.

I want Lee Minho to pay. I want him to pay for breaking the heart of the woman I love, even if she doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. He must be insane for cheating on such an amazing woman. If mommy marks me up, leaving hickeys all over my pale neck, I’ll boldly wear something with a low-cut so Lee Minho can see all of the marks left by the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll make sure he knows that I satisfy her more than he ever could. Y/n, if you’re reading this, please leave pretty bruises all over my body. I want mommy to mark me so bad, make sure everyone knows I’m hers. Regardless of the label anyone puts on our relationship, no one can deny that I’m hers. Her perverted boy, her slutty toy, her little prince, all hers. Only hers.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

The weekend flies closer than he could have imagined, and after seeing you come home exhausted and drained every single night, nothing pleases Jeongin more than knowing he’s the one that will help you relax. As he walks to your house, he regrets not going to the store and getting lotions so he could give you a massage from his unqualified hands. 

“Hey, baby.” You smile at him, bright and gorgeous as always. You invite him in and offer him a drink, which he politely declines. You notice he’s shaking more than usual, and although he was always nervous and awkward, you’ve never see him get this shaky. “Are you okay, Jeongin?”

“Mommy…”

“Oh, we’re right out the gate with this one?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Jeongin takes his shirt off and pulls down his jeans, revealing a hot pink, lace thong covering his half-hard cock. You look up from his cock to his chest, seeing fake, silver nipple rings adorning his pink buds. You cover your mouth as you gasp, indescribably turned on from the presentation this boy had planned. “That’s not all.”

He turns around, bending over so the thong dives deeper between his ass cheeks, but you quickly notice what he was hinting at. There’s a little pink rose peeking out of his ass, a clear decoration on a plug. He looks so fucking hot. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“What do you think, mommy?” He holds his arms out as he turns around, facing you again as your body hasn’t moved since he’d last faced you. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, little prince.” You walk up to him, holding his waist in your hands as you pull him closer, licking one of his nipples, tasting the distinct metal flavor of the ring. “You never fail to surprise me, baby.” 

You kiss from his nipple to his panties, getting down on your knees as you lick over the thin fabric. He twitches under the lace, getting harder every second. Before your mouth can properly suck his cock, you stand up and kiss him harshly on the lips, tasting a faint strawberry flavor. You smile against his mouth, holding his by his waist again as you pull him into your body, your chests coming in contact. 

“Mommy, please sit on my face. I want to make you feel good,” Jeongin whines between kisses. Your hands run up and down his body, feeling him up and making him shiver in anticipation. For right now, you’re content with just sucking on his sweet lips, but his cock clearly needs some attention. “Please~”

“Let’s go to my bedroom, sweetheart. I’ll ride your pretty face as much as you want.” You take his hand in yours as you take him back to your room, practically throwing him on the bed. He palms himself over his thong while you undress, totally forgetting about the rules you’d set up. When you turn around, your gaze goes immediately, almost instinctively, to his hand on his cock as he half-assedly strokes himself. “Is my naughty little boy touching himself? Without my permission?” 

“Sorry, mommy. I couldn’t help it.” Jeongin presses his bottom lip out as he pouts, pulling his hand off of his cock. You roll your eyes and get onto the bed, sitting over his chest before staring down at him like you’re a shark and he’s your next meal. 

“I don’t know if you deserve to eat my pussy anymore.” You ponder, bringing your hand to your chin as if you’re genuinely considering not riding his face until you’re dripping. He puts his hands above his head and pleads again, whining in his adorable high-pitched voice. “Alright, baby boy, but only because I want this.”

You scoot up to his face, hovering your naked cunt over his gorgeous face. As you slowly start to lower your hips to his mouth, Jeongin eagerly sticks his tongue out and fights against his reflexes to just grab you. He laps at your folds, humming from the sweetness as you grind on his face and grip the headboard of the bed. 

“Good boy, Jeonginnie. If you make mommy cum, you’ll get a reward.” He moans into your pussy, his cock twitching under his lace panties just at the thought of you rewarding him. For being so hungry for punishment just days prior, he really wanted to be your good little boy just for today. He sticks his wet tongue into your cunt, inciting you to ride his face even harder, raising and lowering just enough for his tongue to never leave your tight, needy cunt. 

His tongue pulls back, leaving you empty for a moment before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit. You lean forward, putting your clit right up to his mouth all for him. Your sopping cunt was absolutely begging for an orgasm, and Jeongin was getting you there faster than you could have ever imagined. The moans leaving your throat only made Jeongin want to make you cum even more. 

“Please cum on my face, ma’am.” Jeongin wastes no time returning his tongue to your pussy, his wrists still above his head as if he were cuffed. Your legs start to get uneasy, shaking around Jeongin’s head as you breath heavily and mindlessly moan out his favorite pet names and countless praises. He’s smiling against you, sucking your folds until you finally release, your cunt tightening around his tongue as you whine and grind, riding out your high on his face. You were undoubtedly euphoric, slowly coming down from an extremely intense orgasm, but Jeongin was also through the moon, tasting all of your juices leaking into his mouth. 

“Ah, thank you little boy.” You flip your leg over his head, stepping back onto the floor with your weak, tired legs, a hand on the bed so you don’t fall over. You run a hand down his leg, Jeongin starting to shake with anticipation. He holds his wrists steady above his head without any help of restraints. Your palm runs over his cock, touching him over his thin panties. He lets out a huff, needy for more. “Does my sweet prince need to be fucked?” 

Jeongin’s whine are so fucking pathetic. A tear runs down his cheek just from the thought of you fucking him. He watches you as you turn around and reach into your drawer, digging through until you pull out a harness and a bright pink dildo that oddly matches his panties. Jeongin tightens his hole, remembering the bulb nestled in his ass. As you put the harness on, he lifts his hips and shakes his as against the bed.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, “please fuck my ass. Need your cock in me so fucking bad!” He sounds so overwhelmingly lewd, but you loved every second of it. You attach the dildo to your harness, tightening it perfectly so it won’t budge. You cup his cheek as you reposition yourself on the bed, lifting his legs over your thighs. You watch his cock tremble, begging to be touched, as Jeongin stares directly at your face, watching your eyes dart from his cock to his hardened nipped to his quivering lips. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?” You tilt your head and smile, making a burst of warmth erupt in Jeongin’s chest. 

“Please be gentle, okay?” You giggle at his cuteness and nod, reaching to your bedside to take out lube. Squirting it onto your hand, you rub the length of the dildo with one hand while you teasingly pull at his plug, pulling it out just enough to make him groan. 

“You look incredible, baby boy.” You lean down to kiss him while your hand moves from your dildo to his ass, both hands pulling out the plug before you finger him with lubed fingers. All of his moans are lost on your lips, his tongue letting out and into your mouth, dancing with yours. He squeals when your fingers leave his ass, and he knows exactly what’s next. 

You take his hands in yours from above his head, pulling them down to be next to his head. You lean over the boy while you line your cock with his hole, teasingly pushing the tip against his entrance. 

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry angel.” Your hands hold your hips as you slowly push the strap into Jeongin, watching it disappear into his tight little hole. His thong is pushed to the side of his hole while painfully rubbing against the bottom of his shaft. You would have taken it off, but he just looks too damn sexy in them. 

Jeongin writhes as you stop halfway, petting his sides to help him calm down. He feels so full, so stretched, something he’s never felt before. He’s wanted this for so long, he just wants to enjoy it so bad, especially for you, but the pain is starting to get to him. He’s whining loudly, biting down on his lip harshly in hopes of silencing some of his sounds. 

“Jeongin? Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, but not delicate. You’re speaking at a regular volume, an attempt to pull Jeongin out of his head. He opens his eyes and looks at you, tears threatening to fall out. “What’s the safe word?” 

“Avocado.” 

“One more time for me, baby. What’s the safe word?” Without moving your hips, you lean forward to hold onto his face. He looks so gorgeous, messy and covered in sweat. You just want him to be happy. 

“Avocado.” He pushes his face against your hand, his voice returning to a regular pitch. “You can go further now, mommy.” 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” You lean more to kiss his forehead, admiring his sharp facial features. 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” His tone is flat, sounding almost unenthused until the final word. You nod and patiently push into him, carefully watching his face for any indication of pain. Jeongin starts to groan loudly as you bottom out, pressing the bottom of the harness against him. “Thank you.” 

“Good boy, Innie. My angel’s so pretty like this.” Your hands go to his chest, dainty fingers pinching his nipples just how he likes. His moans are back to being the high, pathetic whines you’re used to from the boy. His cock twitches, a drop of precum dripping from the tip. “You ready for me to move, my little prince?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m ready!” Your heart warms watching Jeongin’s face light up for such a perverted sentiment. He looks so excited, finally starting to enjoy it. You grip his hips tight as you pull out, watching his cock stutter and his mouth hang open. When you pound back into him slowly, Jeongin feels that familiar warmth in his stomach. 

“You like this, baby boy? You like getting fucked by your mommy?” Your voice is sinister as you increase the pace, rhythmically moving your hips against Jeongin’s ass. His legs shutter as you fuck him, all of his nerves standing on edge. “Who’s mommy’s little cumslut?”

“I am, mommy! I’m your little c-cum… fuck!” Jeongin throws his head back as you wrap one hand around his cock, your other hand is grounded on his hip. You start to jerk him, fast and aggressive, coaxing him to an orgasm even faster.

The dildo drags against Jeongin’s walls, brushing past the sensitive spot he didn’t even know he had. With every thrust and stroke, he can feel himself start to fall apart, all of his speech devolving into incoherent whines and cries. Sweat drips down his forehead as he finds it harder and harder to hold back his release. 

“C-close,” he whimpers, “gonna cum.” 

“Aw, my sweet little boy ready to cum?” You speed up the movements of your hand, tightening your iron grip on his sensitive, red cock. Jeongin feels his reality start to fade, only being able to focus on his impending orgasm. “Cum all you want, baby. Be a good little boy and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes stare intensely at his cock as he’s pushed over the edge, his body convulsing as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life. He shoots his load all over his abs and chest, some dripping onto your hand. Your hand goes still on his shaft, but your hips still slowly rut into him, easing him through his high. 

“Gonna pull out now, alright pretty boy?” He nods, bringing his hand up to his face for him to bite down on his finger. You gently pull your hips back, eventually slipping out of him, watching him breath heavily as you let go of his hips and cock. “Did you like that?” 

“Yes, Y/n. You felt so good,” he smiles, watching you as you stand up to pull the harness off and toss it towards the drawer for you to clean later. “Can we get dinner now?”

“Sweetheart, you need to rest!” You walk to the side of the bed and give him a peck on his forehead, soon kissing him on his plush lips. He lays on your bed, limbs spread out as he’s lifeless and naked. “You did so well for me. I’ll cook you dinner while you take a nap, alright?”

“I’d like that, mommy. Thank you!” You pull the discarded comforter over his body, forcing him to get warm and cozy under your covers. He looked so sweet in your bed, snuggled against the soft bed that smelled like you. 

“How about pasta? Does my boy like pasta?” He nods, shutting his eyes and rolling to his side, preparing to sleep. “I’ll be back in an hour. Rest well, Jeongin.” 

“Thank you~”

Jeongin dozes off as you get dressed in lounge pants, a loose shirt, underwear and no bra. He looks so peaceful sleeping, so you’re extra quiet when you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen. 

You gather the ingredients and start to boil the water when you get a call. Just as before, it’s your ex-husband, Minho. You groan and hesitantly press the green phone button, turning the call to speaker before setting your phone on the counter. 

“Y/n? Hello?”

“What do you want, Minho?” Your voice sounds disinterested to say the least, and Minho immediately gets the hint that his call was not wanted. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. One of my student’s grades are suffering because of your relationship with him-“

“Shouldn’t you be watching my kids?” You don’t have the mental capacity to listen to Minho scold you right now. Your motherly instincts are tingling, and he should be watching your little angels right now. 

“They’re with their stepmom right now.” You grumble at his use of the word “stepmom” considering your daughters still call her by her first name, but nevertheless, you go silent, hoping he’ll get on with this call. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you need to stop playing games with Yang Jeongin.” 

“Playing games?” Your face turns red as anger suddenly fills your brain. “We aren’t playing games, Lee Minho. We’re adults. Neither of us need your permission.” 

“You’re playing with this kid’s feelings. Don’t you feel bad?” You pause, watching bubbles start to rise in the pot. “This kid is suffering just because you want to be fucked and you’re too prideful to-“

“Don’t even say that, Minho.” You reach for the box of pasta, dumping the noodles into the pot of boiling water. “I’ll never get back with you. You know that.” 

“What does he have that I don’t?” You hear a loud tsk through the phone, Minho taking a break in his talk to ponder his next move. “You’d rather fuck a college student than a real man?”

“Jeongin’s more of a real man than you’ll ever be!” You’re nearly yelling at this point, rage overwhelming you. “What do you know about our relationship anyway? It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is!” Before you have a chance to respond to his outlandish comment, he chimes back in. “He writes in his little fantasy book every single class, and every time I look over his shoulder, I have to see your name scrawled over every page. He’s obsessed with you, Y/n.” 

“Shut up! Just, shut up!” You stop stirring the pasta to collect your thoughts, breathing in before you lash out at Minho over the phone. “Go watch my kids-“

“Our kids.”

“Go watch our kids and never speak to me about this again. I’ll tell Jeongin to get his grades up. Just, for fuck’s sake, leave me alone.” You hang up, angrily throwing your phone onto the counter again. You hear the floor squeak behind you and you turn around, a scared Jeongin standing behind you with the blanket wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes well up with tears, fearful of how you’ll respond. “This was a mistake.” 

“Jeongin, baby, no!” You drop the spoon to the edge of the pot and bring Jeongin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. His arms wrap around your neck, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal him wearing one of your big shirts. “Don’t mind him. How much did you hear?”

“A-all of it.” He sniffles, collecting himself with deep breaths. “I didn’t know I’d cause so much trouble.”

“It’s Minho who’s causing trouble, not you.” You pet down his back, trying to get him to calm down and stop crying. “Go back to my room and lay down, babe.” 

“Can I stay out here and watch you?” You lean down to pick up the blanket, wrapping it around Jeongin again. His eyes are puffy and red as if he’s been emotional for a while, and your heart aches just looking at his disheveled state. 

“Of course, baby. Go sit on that stool.” He pulls the stool out from under the kitchen island and gets comfortable, leaning on the counter with his elbows. You go back to stirring the pasta, watching it rise and fall. “I love you, Jeongin.” 

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for inviting me here today.” He swoons at your bright demeanor, a stark contrast from the bitter persona you’d taken while on the phone with his professor. “What did you mean when you said I’m a… real man?” 

You laugh a bit, dropping the spoon to the side and getting butter and a bowl out for the pasta. “Lee Minho was never a good man. He takes advantage of everyone who comes into his life. You’re not like that.” 

Jeongin tilts his head. “Then what am I like?” 

“You’re, uh…” you put your hand on your chin, scratching at your skin in thought. “You’re very kind and genuine, which is a bit surprising for a boy your age.”

Jeongin hated every time you brought up age. It only furthered to remind him about how different you two were, and how he never had a chance with you from the start. In your eyes, he’ll never be more than a kid, and that ate away and him. Jeongin’s only goal with you was for you to see him as an equal rather than a child, but he wasn’t sure how to go about reaching that.

“So I’m a real man?” Jeongin smiles, his heart fluttering thinking of you calling him a man. 

“Pasta’s ready! Do you want cheese?” You pour the pasta from the strainer into the bowl, mixing it with the butter. Per your request, Jeongin gets the powdered cheese out of the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen island again, this time with you right next to him, piling pasta onto his plate before yours, your motherly instincts kicking in again. 

“Thank you mo- I mean, Y/n!” You both giggle at his adorable slip up, appreciating each other’s company. 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” You push his hair from his forehead and kiss his nose, his cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink. “So cute.” 

taglist: @milkym00n @sparklysung @starsareseen @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab

[shorkbrian]

Mirrors

Prelude - Haha Hi I've never done anything quite like this or this long (like 5k bich) but I am THORSTy and I’ve been sitting on these asks for so long I’m so sorry. ALSO to the ppl sending me the sweet gentle asks about my blog guess what??? I would D I E for you legit I read one of them this morning I almost teared up. I haven’t cried (Except for like (TW) s*ui*ide cry lol those don’t count) since like??? last year?? no joke. 

ANYWHO idk how to write a praise kink so I went with like, insecurity? but then Kiribaku likes makes the reader just melt cause they keep praising her and they bring it out during nasty times and she's GONE yeeted off the earth it makes her so hot and wet lol.

Pairing - Kiribaku X Reader

Prompt - 

Warnings - NSFW!!!! Dirty talk, my best effort at a praise kink, mirror stuff, ummmm mentions of kidnapping. DUB-CON big time, maybe technically even noncon cause reader DOES NOT want it but has just. resigned herself to being a plaything.

Music - https://youtu.be/STO4-8vkG0U 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You couldn’t meet Bakugou’s eyes. HIs gaze was so intense, eyes so passionate and fierce. You were so embarrassed, aware of Kirishima’s gaze fixed on your form from where he was seated in the armchair.  

“I-I…….. don’t like it…. when you talk like that….”

“Fuckin’ what?” Bakugou barked, his brows knitting in confusion.  

“What do you mean, baby?” Kiri stood, moving to sit next to Bakugou on the couch so he could see your face.

You wiggled around uncomfortably in your spot on the floor,  where you were kneeling between Bakugou’s feet.  Kirishima had made some comment, something about how pretty you looked being so sweet for Bakugou. You were literally just sitting there, but Kiri thought you worthy of praise

“It’s not true…… I’m not-my body doesn’t look nice and I just….. every time you guys say stuff about me, all I can think of is how bad I look.”  It was hard to choke out the words, your face flushing red as your eyes filled with tears. You were so embarrassed, having to explain your insecurities to your kidnappers. It was bad enough that they dressed you up in slinky outfits, booty shorts and thin shirts that were almost see-through. You hated it, hated the way it made you feel, hated the way it made you look. It was humiliating.

“Well that’s a bunch of bullshit. I don’t go around saying shit unless it’s true.” Bakugou glared down at you. He seemed angry that you would even have that view of yourself, the foot resting on the floor by your hip beginning to tap in agitation. 

Kirishima scooted closer so he could reach you, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “We mean what we say. You’re beautiful, such a good, obedient little girl for us.”

“No, no - please don’t say that kind of stuff!”  You were getting worked up now, tears falling freely as you hugged your arms around your body. Kirishima shared a look with Bakugou, the two men quickly deciding to drop the conversation and move on to something else.

“Tch, whatever. C’mere”  Bakugou patted his leg, prompting you to shuffle out of your kneeling position and onto his lap. You would rather not, but you knew what resistance would result in, and you’d prefer not having to nurse a sore bottom and mild burns for the next few days. Bakugou wrapped an arm loosely around your waist, tugging you closer to him on his lap. Kiri still petted your hair, pressed up against the blond man’s side as he smiled at you.

“It’s fine baby, calm down. Maybe one day you’ll see what we see.” Without leaving any room for you to argue, Kirishima planted a quick smooch on your forehead before rising from the couch. “Do you two have any preferences for dinner? I was thinking we could order something from that yakisoba place, remember Bakugou? The one Mina recommended.”

“Yeah, go for it. They have any spicy shit?”

Tuning them out, you swiped at your tears, trying to reel yourself back into a steady emotional state. You feel so weak these days, both physically and emotionally. Being held captive by the two men had worn you down, made you prone to teary outbursts. You held no control - your daily routine dictated by the men from the first day they had snatched you from your home. You were reluctant to obey, had even fought them at first, but you quickly realized it was easier (and less painful) to just do what they wanted.  

Fighting was useless.

——

Weeks had passed since your little outburst. Unfortunately, Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t willing to give up praising you every chance they got.  You had an inkling suspicion that they had upped the amount of comments they made about you ever since that day, enjoying watching you squirm and your face go bright red. It made you blush, yes. Made your heart beat a little faster, made you flounder for words if you were in the middle of speaking. But you just felt….. shame when they praised you. 

They lauded you for your obedience, how compliant you were for them. Kiri would ask you to sit down and wait at the table while he answered the door (“don’t make a sound baby.”), and you did. Bakugou would have you sit in his lap while playing video games, and you tried you’re best not to squirm. It made you almost feel sick inside, how quickly you had adjusted to being their “good girl”. You just wanted to please, didn’t want them angry at you.

What really made you blush was when they would strip you down, bend you over the nearest surface. They’d be fucking into you, fondling your body while whispering compliments in-between kisses. You never felt “beautiful” nor “delicious”, no matter how many times they told you otherwise. It was especially humiliating when one of them would take you on the bed, the other watching. You always wanted to hide, shield away your body from their prying eyes, but they never let you.

You just didn’t get it, didn’t understand what they saw when they looked at you. Staring into the bathroom mirror, all you saw were your imperfections, your insecurities.  It was shameful, pathetic. You felt entirely unworthy of the attention and love you were being showered with.

——

The boys had seemed more… energetic today, Kirishima almost seeming to bounce with each step, Bakugou smiling gently at you. It made you nervous. It made you even more nervous when Bakugou took his leave, giving both you and Kirishima a quick peck on the lips before going out the door. It was a weekend, and you knew that both men didn’t have work today. You tried asking Kirishima where Bakugou was going, but all you got out of him was a laugh and “Don’t worry about it! He’s gonna do a little bit of shopping.”

Well, at least that eased your mind a tiny bit.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, Kirishima herding you into the basement.  It was the their home gym, filled with weights and machines that kept the two men strong and fit, and you weren’t usually allowed down there. If you were, it was because both of the men were present, and they could watch you while they worked out (you knew that they liked showing off for you, even if they didn’t admit it.).

But today Kiri wasn’t going down there to work out. Once the two of you made it down the steps, Kiri was pulling an exercise bench over, instructing you to lay down on it, belly up.  You did what he said.

“‘Kay, I’m gonna go upstairs to get some stuff. I want your shorts off by the time I get back, alright baby?”

You nodded.

Sighing, you shimmied your shorts down as he left. You never had to worry about underwear - they never let you wear it unless you were on your period. You knew vaguely what direction this was going in, and had already resigned yourself to getting fucked silly by the redhead. It was practically useless trying to resist.

When he came back, you were surprised. He had rope and…… a Hitachi. That was new. In the short time you’d been living with them, you had gotten used to their habits when they fucked you. Neither man was too interested in toys,  preferring to stimulate you manually, so this was an unwelcome surprise.

“Mmhm, you look so sexy baby.” Kiri kneeled down next to you, before peeling apart your thighs. He grinned at you, shark teeth flashing, before snatching up the Hitachi wand, pressing it directly against your pussy. You didn’t like where this is going. 

He didn’t turn it on, instead reaching for the rope that he had brought down. The redhead began wrapping it around your thighs, lifting your legs to encircle them with the rope. It took a few minutes, which were tense, silent as you watched him work.  He made sure to also circle the rope around your hands and torso, anchoring your arms by your side. When Kiri was finished, you were trapped, unable to move your legs, to even simply part them an inch. The Hitachi wand was still directly on your pussy, snug and unmoving. It rubbed against your clit, making you bite your lip at the delicious friction.  Kirishima gave you a flashy smile, turning to ruffle your hair. Distantly you noticed he didn’t have a shirt on.

“Alright babe, we’re gonna have some fun while we wait for Katsuki. You know what this is?” He tapped the wand nestled between your legs.

“It’s…. It’s a vibrator.” You managed, throat suddenly dry.

Kirishima seemed to beam even brighter. “Yeah! I’m gonna turn it on, let you have your fun. But you gotta tell me before you cum, okay? Think you can do that?”

A quick nod from you and the vibrator buzzed to life between your legs, Kirishima not in the mood to dawdle. Your back arched off the bench at the sensation, the pleasure quick and intense. Kirishima stayed kneeling beside you, watching you writhe as he changed the speed of the wand. 

It didn’t take long for you to cry out, “Kirishima, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. It made your shirt stick to your chest, accentuate the heaving of your breasts as panted. Right before you orgasmed though, Kiri flipped the off switch, the vibrations cutting off and leaving you hanging. Your eyes shot open, confusion furrowing you’re brow.

“Wha-Kiri? What?”

The redhead smirked, pressing a hand to your tummy to prevent you from moving against the wand, desperate for more stimulation, desperate to orgasm.

“Not yet baby, not yet.”

He patted your stomach soothingly as you stared up at him in confusion. You had been so close! Why have you tell him when you’re going to cum, only to rip that away from you??

A minute passed, then two, Kirishima still rubbing his big hand across your tummy. It was meant to be soothing, a soft gesture, but it only heated your skin, made pleasure thrum in your veins. When you had sufficiently calmed down, chest no longer heaving, Kiri reached down and flicked the wand back on, chuckling at the way you desperately ground against the rounded head of the toy.

“Mm, desperate little baby, aren’t you?” He was kissing your neck, letting his tongue slip out to lick at the skin there.  It set you on fire. Reaching the high of orgasm came even quicker this time, spurred on by your movements and determination to cum. If you didn’t tell Kirishima when you were about to, he wouldn’t be able to stop you. So you stayed silent, circling your hips as best you could, leaning into the hot kisses being pressed to your throat.

All of a sudden, the vibrator clicked off, Kirishima’s hand on your tummy once again.

“Thought you could get away with that one? You’re so cute.”

You felt like screaming, yelling out your frustration. He knew your body too well, could feel the hitch in your breath as you prepared to orgasm, felt your fingers tighten, clenching around nothing. He had stopped the vibrator right as you were beginning to feel it, the wave of pleasure. It was frustrating.

You could hardly believe you were thinking this, but you couldn’t wait for Bakugou to get back.

——

It was torture, having your orgasm slip away from you time after time. Kirishima was having fun, groping your chest, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck and collarbone. He liked seeing you struggle, almost at the point of begging and pleading with him in your need to cum.

He had been edging you for a while now, you didn’t even know how many orgasms he had yanked you away from. Kiri had just stopped you once more, turning the vibrator off and holding you still /right/ as you felt yourself letting go. You wanted to scream, on the verge of tears. But then Kirishima was glancing at his phone, stuffing it in his pocket before standing so he could untie you from the bench.

“Bakugou’s back, we’re gonna go see what he brought home for us!”

You could barely think straight, wincing when Kiri removed the vibrator pressing up against your pussy. You were drenched, pussy wet and red and puffy, your own slick covering your thighs. Kirishima helped you to your feet, guiding you into your shorts. You were too out of it to do much, simply letting the man guide and push and lift your body as he pleased. When he pressed up against you to pull your shorts snug over your hips, you felt his bulge through his shorts, poking you in the stomach.  You suppose he’d been waiting for relief too, just the same as you.

Kirishima helped you totter up the basement stairs, then guided you towards the bedroom, hand on your waist. You stumbled through the door, eyes immediately focusing on the giant mirror leaned up against the wall. How had Bakugou even gotten it through the door?  

“Damn Kiri, you’re really worked up.”

Bakugou was sitting on the bed, unlacing his shoes. Kirishima chuckled, hand leaving your waist so he could go sit beside the blonde.

“Me and her both man. Had to hold myself back, she was making such raunchy sounds.”

Their attention turned to you, both men smirking as they eyed you, Kirishima still with a prominent tent in his shorts.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ bet.”  Bakugou smirked. 

Kirishima stood, stepping languidly around you until he was at your back, broad chest pressing up against you.

“I mean, look at this -“ a hand cupped your mound, making you jump. You were still sensitive from being denied so many times, even the slightest touch had you twitching. “ - she’s fucking dripping.”

It was true, the crotch of your shorts soaked with your juices. Kiri rubbed his index finger against the seam, pressing it up and against your clit. You shuddered, hand flying up at grasp onto his arm. It felt so good, you hated his touch, didn’t want his hands on you, but oh, your body liked it.

Kirishima pushed you forward, fingers still teasing you through your wet shorts.  You gasped when you were pushed face first into the bed, bent at the waist.  A hot, blunt hardness rubbed up against you, Kiri’s hand still cupping your mound.

“You’re being such a good little bitch, letting us do whatever the fuck we want to your stupid little cunt.” 

You lifted your eyes, saw Bakugou smirking down at you as you were rocked gently by the force of Kiri’s humping. The blond was palming himself over his jeans, but your attention was quickly shifted when you felt your shorts getting ripped down, off your body.

“Step out.” You obeyed. Kirishima was hungry, lustful - voice deeper and serious now - no trace of his signature lightheartedness. He always got like this this when he was excited.  Your head was wrenched to the side, cheek mashed against the bedspread, large hand pressing and holding you in place. Belatedly, you recognized you were facing the mirror leaned against the wall, could see Kirishima’s bulk behind you, his shorts already pulled down to reveal his hard cock. If you hadn’t taken it before, you would be scared. He was thick, blunt and girthy - not to mention a considerable length. The tip was flushed red, almost purple, shiny with leaked precum and almost swollen. 

“Look at yourself in the mirror baby, you see that? How nice you look, all obedient and ready to take my cock? Such a good, sweet little girl.”

You looked so tiny compared to the redhead, the man having to bend his knees slightly to rub the head of his cock against your pussy. You tried not to moan when he focused it on your clit, rubbing it rapidly over the nub.  “Kiri - please……Aah! Let me - lemme cum..” You whined.

“God, you’re so perfect, you know that?” He breathed out a laugh, still rubbing the head of his blunt cock over your clit, hand still forcing your head to the side, making you watch his movements. You almost wanted to cry - being teased and denied for so long. You just wanted to cum, wanted to get this over quickly so you could go shower. 

Normally seeing yourself in a mirror was something you’d try to avoid, not favoring the way you looked. But now, you were mesmerized, watching through the reflection the way Kirishima’s red cock pulsed as he finally, finally slipped it into your opening. You choked on a moan as he slowly stretched you out, feeding inch after inch of his wide cock into you. In the mirror, you saw him tip his head back, groaning low in his throat when he finally bottomed out, fat balls pressed flush against you.

 “Fuck, oh god, feels so good. You’re so good, can feel your pretty little pussy trying to milk me.” He leaned down, warm chest plastered across your back as he whispered in your ear. 

“You really want this, don’t you? Such a gorgeous baby, so sexy and hot and  perfect.”

The man didn’t start out slowly, he never did. He was aggressive, unrelenting as he thrust his fat cock into you over and over. Your legs were shaking, the pleasure making you weak-kneed, your tongue lolling out of your open mouth, unable to quiet your moans. Kirishima’s pace was frenzied, excited, animalistic as he chased his own pleasure, the sound of his skin slapping against your own filling the room. It was incredible.

His dick hit all the right spots, pressing you closer and closer to your orgasm. If he didn’t let you cum this time you were going to cry.  Your could hear the lecherous, sinful sounds of your pussy squelching, milky juices getting everywhere. It coated his dick, was covering your thighs. You could feel drops of wetness being flicked everywhere on every thrust, the wet, fast slaps of his thighs against you making your stomach clench even harder.  The hand in your hair pulled up slightly, wrenching your head back in order for Kiri to give your a quick, desperate kiss - full of teeth and spit. He had hardly detached from your lips before he was mouthing at your back, spitting out filth as he did so.

“Shit, I love you so much. Wish I could be inside you all time - see how easily your body takes me? You were made for this, such a filthy little baby. Always look so tempting, always wanna fuck you, fill you up, make you squirt.” 

His words were getting to you, as you were forced to watch him pounding into you, hips snapping and tensing in an animalistic fashion. It was too much - the pleasure, his crude words, the visual of seeing yourself getting fucked, worshipped. Your eyes closed, clenching shut as you moaned over a particularly satisfying thrust. Kiri didn’t like that. The hand not holding your head against the bed slipped underneath you, immediately finding your clit, pinching at it viciously.

“Open your eyes, keep watching or else I stop.”

You wailed, eyes flying open. Kirishima was smiling, still kissing sloppily at your back as he began playing with your clit.

“You always look so tasty, can’t tell you - Fuck! - how many times I think about fucking your brains out during the day - shit, you’re so good for me.”

HIs hips stuttered as he rammed forward, signaling he was close. He wasn’t the only one - your hands clawing at the bedspread, your hips moving and twitching as you tried to grind yourself against his hand, his cock slamming into you.  His big hand rubbed you just right, and it sent a pang of sizzling pleasure trough your body.  A broken cry left you as you finally orgasmed, hot, shaking, senseless. Thank god.

The wild twitching of your pussy as you rode out your high triggered Kirishima’s own orgasm, the man burying his face between your shoulder blades as his own hips twitched wildly, humping his cock into you as he released his seed.  He was cursing, saying something, but it was muffled by the skin he caught between his teeth, making you squeal as you felt hot cum shoot into you. It took a minute for the man to slow down, thrusting through his orgasm and into the aftershocks, milking and prolonging both of your pleasure. It felt so good, so right. You were so high from the endorphins that you couldn’t even think to remember how wrong this was, how you didn’t want any of it.

Pulling out, Kirishima watched his cum begin dripping out of your cunt, pushing himself away from your back as he stood, chest heaving, body glistening with sweat. You were barely able to keep yourself up, still bent over the bed, legs wobbly and arms jelly. A separate set of hands pulled you to the side, and you let yourself be manhandled, pulled and situated in Bakugou’s lap, his chest to your back.

You had forgotten about Bakugou.

His jeans were off, along with his boxers. His shirt was gone too, thrown somewhere on the floor. The blond ripped at the shirt still plastered to your chest, the fabric giving in easily to his strength. You couldn’t bring yourself to care as it shredded right through the middle, freeing your tits. It’s not like it hid anything anyways.

“Jesus, that was so fuckin’ hot, watching Kiri pound into you like that. Look at yourself, leaking everywhere like a damn hose. You like having Kiri’s cum sliding out of your soggy little cunt?” 

His chin hooked over your shoulder and he directed your gaze forward. 

There was another mirror.

It was leaned up against the far wall, allowing you a perfect view of your sweaty, debauched body as Bakugou spread you legs, hooking your knees over his own so he could force your thighs even further apart. Oh god.

He was hard as a rock, moving your body around on his lap so his dick pressed up against the outside of your pussy, cum still escaping from your hole. You were exhausted, body limp and pliant - you didn’t know if you could go another round.

Bakugou didn’t care.

A harsh slap had you crying out, a sharp “Ah!”  Filling the room. Bakugou slapped your slit again, and you tried to curl in on yourself, protect yourself from the abuse on your sensitive pussy. The blond slithered a hand around your chest, reaching up to grip your throat lightly.

“Stop that. Fucking look at this shit. See how sloppy your pussy is? Everytime I do this - “ He delivered another quick slap, and you writhed on his lap, which caused you to push against the hard cock nestled between your thighs. “ - You let more cream out.”

Without saying anything more, Bakugou shoved the hand not around your throat under your thigh, lifting you up just enough so he could slip his dick into you. HIs cock was less girth than Kirishima’s - it was  about the same length but a more manageable size. He had been jacking off while watching Kiri fuck you, so his length was already coated in a layer of his spit and precum. That, combined with the cum already drenching your insides,  meant he met virtually no resistance as he thrust up slowly.

You writhed, the hand at your throat and at your thigh keeping you steady in his lap. Kirishima was on the floor, leaning his back against the bed as he watched the two of you in the mirror, still panting and calming down from his intense orgasm. 

There wasn’t any time to adjust, to ask Bakugou to wait, you’re too sensitive to go again! He was more relaxed than Kirishima, more controlled and languid in his thrusting. He rolled his hips, bouncing you gently in his lap as he forced you to keep your head straight, despite your efforts to turn away from the mirror showing your own reflection. You looked absolutely filthy - face flushed, tits bouncing, Bakugou’s hard cock drilling into you. You couldn’t help but moan, the sight stirring up something, some heated feeling inside your tummy.You liked watching them fuck you.

“Goddamn, every single time feels so fucking good. Shit, shit shit shit - it’s like you were made for us!”

He sounded so gleeful, so truthful. You unconsciously clenched around his length, feeling tingly as his thrusts ground deep, hit every single spot that made a sweet zing of  bliss race through your body.

“Ah, ah fuck, you finally get it? You see what we’re fuckin’ on about when we say you look so damn delicious? Shit, I wanna take a bite outta you, so juicy and ripe and fucking perfect.”

Bakugou was out of breath, his voice deep as he growled at you.  You grabbed at the arm around your chest, his thighs, his hair - anything to anchor yourself as his balls papped against you. You could hear someone moaning, whining and sobbing, was that you?

Kirishima had recovered, moving to kneel between Bakugou’s and your own spread legs. “Bakugou, you two look so good together.” That seemed to spur the blond on, his thrusts speeding up as he grunted. You screamed when you felt  a wet muscle swip at your clit, looking down to see Kirishima grinning up at you, his tongue hanging out. On each thrust, he was licking at Bakugou’s cock, and then at your clit right above him, making you wiggle and spasm as you tried to escape the intense sensation.

“Kiri, Kir- stop! Stop, please I can’t! Stop, stop stop stop!”

You were pushing at his head, albeit weakly, but you were trying to move him away, becoming frantic as the combined efforts of the two men overwhelmed you, had you throwing your head back against Bakugou’s shoulder and gasping. Bakugou snickered, before plunging his tongue into your open mouth, stealing a kiss. You whined, scrabbling at his arms, Kirishima’s hair, trying to get away but simultaneously trying to bring the two of them closer. It felt so /good/, you didn’t even have the words to describe how heavenly and lascivious and filthy you were feeling. 

“Hah, you’re so wet, you hear yourself? Sloppy girl. Taking me so well, shit, so goddamn good.”

You could indeed, hear yourself. On every thrust of Bakugou’s, your pussy squelched, greedily sucking him in. It was absolutely filthy, hearing your juices and Kiri’s cum sloshing together as Bakugou shoved his cock into you, again and again. You could hear Kirishima slurping at your cunt with fervor, could tell by the slick sounds and rhythmic movement of his arm that he was frantically jerking himself off as he lapped at the point where Bakugou’s hot flesh met your own.  It was hot, not only in temperature. 

“C’mon baby, let it out, let me taste you. Wanna see you clenching around Katsuki’s cock like the good, sweet little girl you are.”

Kirishima’s words hand you reeling, and the second his lips went back to attacking your clit, you were gone. It almost hurt, how tense your muscles became, squeezing an agonizingly delicious orgasm out of you. Bakugou felt you release, his thrusts speeding up as Kirishima kept his tongue out, laving at Bakuguo’s cock as he hammered into your clenching cunt. You were crying, twisting In Bakugou’s hold as you were quickly overstimulated, shrieking as you were left with no respite.

It didn’t take long for Bakugou to cum, spurred on by your writhing and tears, the way you were begging and pleading and sobbing, imploring the men to stop. With a guttural moan, the blond gave on last thrust, shooting his seed into you, hot ropes of cum filling you up. Kirishima was still licking around Bakugou’s cock, catching the cum and slick that squeezed it’s way past the cock plugging you up.

You shivered, relaxing against the hard chest behind you as Kirishima eventually stopped lapping at you, his own arm still. He had cum again at some point, pumping his cock into his own fist. Bakugou pressed a gentle kiss behind your ear, panting hotly against the shell.

“Fuuuuuck-“ he whined out “- that was amazing.”

“Mhmm.” Kiri hummed his agreement, slowly standing. The redhead flopped down on the bed, crawling up to sprawl out on one side, head resting against a pillow. Bakugou slipped out of you with no warning, your sudden gasp as you felt wet drip out of you making him chuckle. He maneuvered your lax body onto the bed, next to Kirishima, before pressing himself up behind you, trapping your body between the two men. You were too tired to feel gross, to mind the wet slide of your thighs as you shifted into a more comfortable position. Kirishima threw an arm around your waist, leaning up on his elbow to hover over and across you, stealing a kiss from Bakugou. Then he was stealing one from you, wet mouth connected to your own. 

You didn’t fight.

When he flopped back down, you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like you could finally relax as the two men stayed silent, all three of you exhausted, fucked out. 

This was only the tip of the ice berg. 

If you knew how often and intensely the men intended to fuck you near the mirrors, you would probably pass out. They just wanted to show you what they saw in you. It had been two of the strongest orgasms you had experienced in a while, but there was no way you’d admit it was because of their praising and insistence  on making you watch yourself getting railed by them.

For now, you let yourself drift into a comfortable doze, let the heat of the two bodies caging you in keep you warm, keep you trapped.

Why bother fighting? 

There was no escape.

[drabbles-mc]

The Long Game

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Request by Anon:  Nestor Oceteva with the fluff sections prompts 30: I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, 40: Why are you so scared of loving and 49: You’re the only thing that matters?

Warnings: language, fluff so sweet it’ll make your teeth hurt

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: So to balance out the angsty request, we have a nice fluffy one too. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just really like the idea of super sweet Nestor

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce ​ @thesandbeneathmytoes ​ @paintballkid711 ​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl ​ @queenbeered ​ @sillygoose6969 ​ @sesamepancakes ​ @yourwonkywriter ​ @chibsytelford ​ @gemini0410 ​ @multiyfandomgirl40 ​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead ​ @plentyoffandoms ​ @georgiaaintnopeach ​ @twistnet ​ @garbinge ​ @amandinesblogofstuff ​ @bucky-iss-bae ​

Nestor loomed over your shoulder, watching as you folded ingredients together in a giant mixing bowl. You bit back a laugh as he watched you intently. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop in, not that you minded. But the unannounced visit meant that he was going to have to deal with the fact that you were wrapped up in other things before he arrived. He didn’t seem to mind, though, as he wandered around your kitchen with you.

“Who are you making all of these for?” he asked with a slightly confused look on his face.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ll bring some to work. You can take some home with you if you want,” you laughed when you turned to look at him, “I just felt like baking this weekend.”

“Can I help?”

You shook your head, “No way.”

He looked a little offended but you could see that he was trying not to smile, “Why not? I’m a good cook.”

You nodded, “I know you are. But you’re a terrible baker. Remember when you tried to help me with the pie for my sister?”

He laughed, and you tried to pretend that it didn’t make your heart jump inside your chest, “But these are cookies. Totally different, right?”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly, “You can help by being my taste-tester when the first batch is done. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re trying not to be patronizing but you still are,” he chuckled.

You laughed and handed him the spatula that you had been using, “You can lick this clean while you sulk about it.”

Something flashed across his face for a moment that you couldn’t quite read. But before you could think about it too much, he snatched the spatula from you with a small smile, “Fine. But it won’t stop me from bothering you.”

You didn’t expect that it would. And, realistically, the last thing you would ever consider Nestor to be was a bother. You liked when he stopped in, even though as you both grew up and got wrapped up in your own lives it happened less and less frequently. He’d been your best friend for as long as you could remember, and the two of you had always balanced each other out. Nestor had always been a little quieter, keeping a lot of his thoughts and feelings to himself most of the time. You were good for him in that way, being open and honest enough to draw things out of him. He was good for you, too. Everything about Nestor made you feel safe. That sense of safety happened long before he became the man that was in your apartment that day—even as children you knew that he had your back and that hadn’t changed.

And as you both got older and he got involved with Galindo and everything that that entailed, you’d remained a safe place to go and rest. Your apartment was a place where he could recharge and he just got to be Nestor, and not the head of security for a cartel leader. You didn’t talk about work unless he brought it up, and he didn’t bring it up often. Despite the fact that his life had continued to get more dangerous, you never felt like it would ever get back to you. Something about the way he spoke and carried himself assured you of that despite the fact that he never verbally said it. You trusted that if things were too dicey, he wouldn’t bring it to your front door.

So, the two of you maneuvered around your tiny kitchen together. He was leaning against the counter, watching as you flitted around, spatula still between his fingers. He’d set the timer for you but other than that he let you do whatever it was you had to do to keep the kitchen from burning down. Every now and then your shoulder would brush and push against his and you pretended that you didn’t notice, that it didn’t make your face feel hot for a few moments each time.

The timer went off and you grabbed a pair of oven mitts. You carefully pulled the tray out of the oven, allowing Nestor to shut it for you as you carried the hot tray over to the table to cool.

“Can you put that tray in for me and start the timer again?”

He nodded, tossing the spatula into the sink before doing what you asked, “So I do get to help.”

You chuckled as you walked back over, “Baby steps. I might make a baker out of you yet.”

All that was left to do was wait. You were waiting for one tray to cool so you could empty it just to fill it up again, and you were waiting for the timer to go off for the tray that was currently in the oven. You and Nestor were each leaning on a separate stretch of counter, kitty-corner to each other. You wiped your hands off on your jeans, pretending not to notice the way that he was staring at you as you did.

“So is this how you spend your weekends now?” he asked with a quiet chuckle.

You smiled, “It’s been a while. Listen, I know it’s not quite as exciting as whatever you spend all your time doing, but it suits me just fine.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he saw the disbelieving look on your face and he laughed, nudging your foot lightly with his own, “I swear! This is nice.”

“Mhm,” you smiled at him, leaving it at that.

You walked over to the table and started carefully scooping cookies off of the tray and onto a plate so they could completely finish cooling. When the tray was empty, you looked up and saw Nestor watching you, a calm radiating from his facial expression and body language.

“Wanna try one?” you asked.

He nodded, walking over. You smiled as you held one out for him. You expected him to take it from your hand into his own, but instead he just leaned and bit into while you were still holding it. You laughed, smile stretching from ear to ear as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

He gave a nod of approval, “Those are good.”

“Well here,” you fed him the rest of the cookie, “you gotta finish it now.”

You both laughed and without thinking you reached up and brushed the crumbs clinging to the stubble on his face. It didn’t hit you until it was too late how close you were standing, the weight of the gentle gesture clearly not lost on either of you as you took in the look in Nestor’s eyes. Before you could make it any worse you cleared your throat, scooping up the now-empty tray and heading back over to the counter to put more dough onto it.

Nestor materialized behind you, and you were hyper-aware of how close he was standing to you. “Can I help with this part?” there was a lightness to his voice that you found reassuring.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose,” it got him to laugh and he playfully nudged your shoulder. You smiled, “They all gotta be the same size though, alright?”

He nodded, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “I think I can handle that.”

You hopped up onto the counter so you could watch him. You swung your legs as you watched the concentration on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. He was so methodical, clearly taking his baking lesson very seriously.

You bit back a laugh, “Domesticity doesn’t look half bad on you, Nes.”

He flicked his eyes up to you for a moment, a smile passing over his face for a brief moment before returning to the task at hand, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Really. One of these days, when you find someone who makes you wanna settle down, you’ll be able to do it. I can tell.”

“Just from watching me scoop cookie dough?” he laughed but didn’t lift his eyes from the tray in front of him.

“Just from knowing you for so long. I can’t believe you haven’t put a ring on some girl yet anyway.”

He smiled at you, setting his tray off to the side, “And I can’t believe you haven’t domesticated some guy yet.”

You laughed, “What do you think I’ve been doing with you this whole time?”

You said it as a joke, but there was a lot of truth to it. Not that you were trying to change Nestor into someone that he wasn’t, but that there was a part of you that was always holding out. There was something in the back of your mind that was always waiting for it to be you and Nestor in the end. It was a long shot—you knew his life and that he might never be able to settle down, but you still hoped. You tried not to put your life on hold for it, but days like this made you realize that there wasn’t another person you wanted to spend this kind of time with. You didn’t know if there ever would be.

He chuckled, “Really playing the long game, huh?”

You nudged his leg with your foot, “Is it not working? You think that a couple years ago you would’ve spent one of your very few days off in some girl’s apartment watching her bake cookies?”

He smiled, but you could see that there was something else lingering in his expression, “Maybe not.”

“See? I’ve got you ready for whatever girl reels you in,” your tone was light but you didn’t really want to think about him being with someone else.

“You’ve got some high hopes for me,” his smile was soft.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He laughed, but there was a touch of hollowness to it, “You know me better than anyone—you know exactly why you shouldn’t have such high hopes for me.”

You shook your head, “Stop, don’t be like that,” you knew it was a bit of a touchy topic for him, but what was the point in being someone’s best friend if you weren’t going to call them out on their shit, “Why do you always sell yourself so short, hm? Why are you so scared of loving?”

“I’m not scared, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, “Right. Because Big Bad Nestor Oceteva isn’t scared of anything,” it broke the tension and got you both to laugh, “But I mean it, you know—don’t sell yourself short. You’re gonna make some girl real happy one day.”

He started to say something else when the sound of the timer cut through your conversation. He pressed his lips together, stepping out of your way so you could take the tray out. Your back was to him but you could hear him setting the next tray into the oven and starting the time over again.

When you turned around to walk back into the kitchen, you nearly bumped into Nestor who was already right behind you. You laughed, ignoring the heat taking over your cheeks, “Sneaky.”

He chuckled, “It’s a job requirement,” he paused, eyes desperately searching yours as he tried to piece together his next sentence, “You really think that I could have this with someone?” he gestured around your apartment.

You nodded as you made your way back to the kitchen, Nestor close behind, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“You know my life. It just feels stupid to even think about all of that when I do what I do for a living.”

You gently rested your hand against his chest, “It’s not stupid. You’re going to find someone who understands and accepts all of that. Someone who is…you know…patient,” you smiled.

“Someone like you?”

You didn’t think that three words could knock the wind out of you so effectively, but they did. You laughed, unable to meet his eyes, “Nes, c’mon, don’t joke—”

“I’m not joking,” he stepped closer, looking down at you intently. Every word you wanted to say got caught in your throat, so Nestor continued, “You’re my best friend. And, you’re right, I am scared. Or at least, I usually am. But when I’m here, with you, I’m not. Being here with you is like stepping into an entirely different world, one where you’re the only thing that matters. I love it, and I miss it the second I leave.”

It was everything you wanted to hear and yet you had a hard time believing it, “Where is all of this coming from?”

“Because, as usual, you’re right,” he smiled as he reached forward, wiping a small streak of flour off your forehead, ��a few years ago I wouldn’t be doing any of this. And, honestly, if it wasn’t you, I still wouldn’t be doing it. But it is you,” his hand rested lightly on your cheek, “and you feel like home. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and it feels like a waste of time to keep pretending like I haven’t been.”

There were so many things that you wanted to say, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak. All the words were caught in a lump at the back of your throat. You could feel happy tears starting to gather in your eyes as you rested your hand over his. Knowing that there were no words you could think of that would accurately explain how you felt, you pulled him down into a kiss.

You could feel that it caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered and leaned down into you. Both his hands rested on the back of your neck, pulling you up into him. You smiled into your kiss, arms easily wrapping around him as you soaked up every moment of his lips being pressed against yours.

The moment wasn’t long enough, cut short by the sound of the timer buzzing on the counter. You pulled away slightly, unable to stop the quiet laugh from escaping past your lips as Nestor rested his forehead against yours.

“Dammit,” you finally were able to make yourself speak, a tinge of humor in your voice.

Nestor chuckled as he reached over and turned the timer off, “Timing is everything, huh?”

You laughed, but the intensity of everything that had just happened didn’t slip from your mind. You looked over at him, “I love you.”

His eyes widened at hearing you say it like that for the first time. A small smile crossed his face, “I love you too,” he pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips, “Don’t let the cookies burn.”

“Shit, right, right,” you laughed as you shook your head, trying to get all of your thoughts back in order.

You felt his eyes on you as you shuffled around the kitchen, thankful that everything was second nature for you at this point because there were a million thoughts running through your head and none of them had to do with the task at hand. You heard his light footsteps as he walked up behind you, and the wave of warmth that washed over you as he lightly draped his arms around your waist was unlike anything else you’d ever felt. He rested his chin down onto your shoulder, watching you get everything in order.

“Better take notes,” you said with a laugh, “Now you’re definitely going to have to help next time.”

He laughed, pressing a light kiss into your shoulder, “Oh, so this is what it took?”

You smile, nodding, “You’re leveling up now, Nestor. You think you’re ready?”

He smiled, “I guess we’ll find out.”

[kimnjss]

friend’s trip | knj

⇢ fic type: drabble ⇢ genre: smut ⇢ word count: 1K ⇢ theme/rating: best friend’s girlfriend // explicit. ⇢ warnings: quiet pining, jealousy, mentions of oral sex (f. receiving), some non bro code acts, masturbation, secondhand embarrassment, namjoon got i bad ngl. ⇢ synopsis: it was supposed to be a fun weekend trip with his friends and the girl of his dreams. too bad the girl of his dreams is already spoken for and to make matters worse... there’s no way to avoid you. ⇢ A/N: another part of the ‘caught’ reactions that ended up being too long to just be reactions... let me know what you think x ⇢ go read jungkook’s!

It was no secret how fond of his friend's Jin was, so much so that he's suggesting that they join you on the trip set for your six month anniversary. With the limited amount of days off, the boys didn't really have much time to take trips together and neither did you and your boyfriend. So he was coming up with a great compromise, just combine it.

You had zero complaints, as long as you got your time alone with him you were fine. His friends have become yours in the past months, got along really well with all of them. So it was safe to say that they loved you. Something you never missed a chance to brag about.

Jin is waking you up with breakfast in bed, chuckling softly as he gives you a coffee flavored kiss. He watches you dig into the meal, fingers drawing random patterns against the soft skin of your thighs. Absentmindedly inching his way closer and closer to your core. He's talking a mile a minute about the plans that he has for the group and you try your hardest to pay attention.

Of course, that doesn't last long. With your meal out of the way you're still far from feeling sated. What better place to get eaten out if not the sky floor of your hotel room facing the ocean. Jin agrees.

That sets the tone for the rest of the day, the two of you inseparable in your group of friends. From holding hands while walking to kissing openly stood in line, it's like the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other.

The disgusting display of PDA goes ignored for the most part, everyone else wrapped up in their own thing to really pay attention to how yuck you were being. Although, there was a certain lingering stare that couldn't go ignored.

Namjoon. From the moment you were all meeting in the lobby, Joon had his sight set on you. So obvious with it that you had thought there was something wrong with your dress, other than the fact it was little on the short side. And he didn't back down even when Jimin was pulling his attention elsewhere.

You decide against saying anything. It wasn't like he was making you particularly uncomfortable. He was just looking. Jin, on the other hand didn't feel the same way as you. The moment you're back in the hotel room, wiping makeup off your cheeks he's asking if you thought Joon had been acting weird.

Brushing it off for the sake of not causing any problems doesn't have Jin the least bit convinced. If one of his friends had a problem with you, he wanted to get to the bottom of it right away before it escalated to something more. Which is exactly what he sets out to do when he's leaving your room.

For the record, Namjoon did not have a problem with you. He liked you. A little too much for someone who was in a serious relationship with his close personal friend. Today didn't help in the slightest bit. It made everything worse, actually.

To start with the freshly fucked look in your eye you had the moment you stepped off the elevator. It didn't take a genius to put together what you had just been up to. And if that wasn't bad enough, you looked phenomenal in your dress. A tight little body con dressed that hugged your curves nicely.

Then with the way you had been with Jin, of course he was your boyfriend. But he couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that looms in his chest. Had himself imaging what it would be like if he was in his place. If he was the one receiving your kisses, holding you close. He's quick to shake thee thought, knowing how wrong it is to think o your friend's girlfriend that way.

But no matter how many times he pushed the thoughts aside, they'd come back stronger.

They didn't go away, even surrounded by his friends in their hotel room. Drinks being passed around, food being shared while they play video games. He should be having a good time, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. Feeling shittier about it the deeper in thought he would get.

It was just a thought. Something that he could shake if he just stopped thinking about you. Easier said then done.

A few hours after being in, Joon was hopping up in need of a shower. Hopefully the running water and steam would be enough to clear his mind. It helps, only for a moment before you're clouding his thoughts again. The pretty way you smiled at him when he had sat beside you, the sweet softness of your voice whenever you talked to him.

He had it bad, could really do nothing about it. Images and thoughts of you has his mind reeling and before he can stop himself, he's got a grip on his cock cheeks flushed as he works himself to completion.

The soft moans that fall from his lips quickly morph to whispers of your name, just barely heard over the running water. Jin doesn't think to knock before entering the bathroom, close enough to him that he didn't really think to do it. He had planned to just say that he wanted to talk to him after he finished in the shower, but didn't even get the chance when he heard exactly what was being said.

Mumbled over and over again, your name. Punctuated with a drawn out groan that could only mean one thing. Teeth cutting into his lower lip to keep from making a sound, Jin is quick to turn and leave without being noticed.

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[collecting-stories]

Heaven, We’re Already Here - t. 05 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things are progressing between y/n and JJ. 

A/N: We’re halfway to the end...can you even believe it?

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ My soul isn’t yours to save anymore ✞

The bet had become a thing of contention between JJ and John B since the night of the kegger. It was fairly obvious that JJ wanted out and the only reason he was still hanging on was because he had convinced himself that he desperately needed the cash. 

But the more he spent time with you the harder it was becoming to justify to himself that cash was worth the level of humiliation he would be subjecting you to if you knew that this was all just one massive joke on you. From the moment he saw you in the church JJ knew that this was no game or bet, no matter what he tried to tell himself when you weren’t around. And after spending the day in Chapel Hill with you he was more convinced than ever that he needed to end things before they got out of hand.  

“Here.” JJ practically slammed the money on the table, pushing it across to Sarah.

“What’s this?”

“I forfeit.” He replied. “Take your 200 back.” 

“I thought you needed the money,” John B said, tone mocking the way JJ had grumbled about needing cash three weeks ago. 

“Yeah and now I don’t.” He snapped.  

Kiara looked away, grabbing the empty glasses off the table and taking them back to the counter. The only nice thing about him doing this in the Wreck was that she could walk away from the table when it got uncomfortable. Kiara hadn’t been shy in telling JJ that he should call off the bet, “if you really need 200, I’ll front you.” But she was less inclined to put herself in the middle of the altercation with him, John B, and Sarah. 

She knew that he regretted making the bet in the first place and she had felt guilty hanging out with you, knowing that it was all just a joke behind your back that JJ and his friends could laugh at. But he was making good on his promise to cut off the head of the beast, giving Sarah her money back and ending the bet before anyone really got hurt. It could fade into obscurity, just be something no one even remembered anymore. 

“You were almost to the finish line,” John B teased, feeling shockingly okay with a bet he’d first made when he was drunk and barely coherent enough to walk. “I mean, unless you don’t think she’ll let you get that far-”

“Shut up.” JJ snapped. “I said I was done, so I’m done.”

“Why?” Sarah pried.  

“I thought it would be funny but it’s not. She’s a real person, I’m not gonna fuck with her just so you guys can laugh.” JJ replied. He’d been feeling guilty about the bet since that first day he saw you in the church. The way you looked at him, a mirrored image of his own restlessness, depression, and emptiness. He didn’t deserve you on a good day, when he was completely devoted to you with no ulterior motive at the back of his head.  

He couldn’t do this to you, make you the butt of the joke to every pogue who heard about the bet and was enough of an asshole to find it funny. On his second time around the thought, he knew he really couldn’t do that to anyone. But John B thought it was funny and he and Sarah had used JJ’s lack of funds and general ‘go-with-the-flow’ attitude as a means to an end. 

“You’d do it if she was some kook.” Sarah commented, counting the 20’s he’d handed over. 

“Well she’s not.” JJ snapped, “look, I’m giving you the fucking money back, bet’s off.”

“Dude-“

“He said it was over John B, just quit being a dick.” Kiara piped up. She hadn’t been there when the bet was made but she had heard about it after the fact and been pissed. She was only relieved now that JJ seemed ready to put the bet to rest.  

“She might like you now but it won’t last.” Sarah said when JJ started to walk away, “I mean, you guys have nothing in common JJ, do you really think she fits in at keggers or sitting around getting high all day?”

JJ stood there, jaw tense, clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms, face turning red. The anger was just insecurity because, yeah, he agreed with Sarah. He knew he didn’t have a lot to offer you but hearing her say it knocked him down a peg and had him seeing red. 

“Just go,” Kiara urged, grabbing JJ’s arm and pushing at him, trying to get him to turn around and leave, “go.” She would yell at them for him, a much better defender of his character than he was. 

The door slammed behind him, the spring on the old wooden screen creaking in protest when JJ threw it shut as he left, already brushing tears out of his eyes as he walked, cutting through the woods back to the cut. It was stupid to get so upset about something Sarah said but he couldn’t help it. He’d been worked up as it was over calling off the bet and Sarah had only made him feel worse. 

Despite that, or maybe because of it, JJ took the path through the woods that led to the church. Taking a walk to cool down worked for everyone in the world but him, the further through the woods he walked the angrier he got. At himself, at Sarah and John B, at everything that made him take that stupid bet in the first place. The only thing keeping his anger in check was the thought of you. Sitting in the church practicing the piano or hanging laundry outside. Anywhere he could stay just out of sight of your parents, relishing in your attention.  

JJ came up on the church, not thinking to look inside before he entered. All he was thinking about was seeing you, forgetting entirely that you were not the only one who lived on the property. He stopped at the end of the aisle, still a little worked up, and caught off guard by the sight of your dad at the altar, rehearsing his sermon for Sunday. He tried to back up but failed, his clumsiness catching your dad’s attention.  

“Can I help you?” He called out when JJ bumped into one of the pews, the sound of his boot colliding with the wood reverberating in the nave. 

“Sorry,” JJ spoke up, “sorry I-“

“You came to church a few Sundays ago?” Your dad said, recognizing JJ’s face when he stepped off the altar and walked down the aisle. The blond, he realized, was the boy he’d noticed watching you. Though his wife told him he was being crazy, he was certain that he’d seen the boy in the yard once after that. 

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, sniffling a little to clear the congestion from crying, “wrong turn on the way to the smoke shop I guess.” He was sure his face was still red, eyes still bloodshot, and the last thing he wanted to do was get cornered into some weird testimonial moment with your dad. He just wanted to see you, to remind himself that what Sarah said was bullshit, that you liked him, that this was more than a bet.  

“Is there something I can help you with now?” Everyone always said how welcoming and charismatic your dad was. The church wouldn’t have half the congregation it did now if it wasn’t for your dad’s ability to reel people in with smiles and an easy-going personality. 

That ease was not present as he stood there sizing up JJ. The kid gave him a bad feeling and he was absolutely certain he’d seen flashes of him around the yard before. The teenage population on the island was not a group your father was a fan of and JJ seemed the perfect embodiment of all the things wrong with that group. He looked unkempt, a little worse for the wear, and he smelled like pot. 

Before JJ could say anymore, the doors to the church opened and you walked in, eyes wide at finding your boyfriend there, “uh, mom said to call you for lunch?” You said. 

For his part, the second the door opened, JJ’s attention had snapped that way, and there you were. Exactly who he had been looking for and he felt like he could breath, like things would be alright because you were right there and he shouldn’t be so conspicuous but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Like a magnet.  

“Of course,” he seemed to recover his bad mood relatively quick though he glared at the back of JJ’s head when he realized the boy was staring at you. “Go ahead back to the house and tell your mom I’ll be in.” 

You kept your eyes on your dad, not daring to look at JJ, “should I ask her to set an extra space?” Your dad had always been a fan of inviting church members in for dinner or lunch when they stopped by with something, you weren’t sure if it was compensation for a dwindling household or if he just liked to seem approachable but you used it against him now. If you had looked at him, you’d have noticed the slow smirk on JJ’s face as he stood there. 

If your dad said no it reflected badly on him. He always guilted you about not being helpful enough or considerate enough. “If...” he trailed off, clearing his throat to get JJ’s attention as he waited for a name. 

“JJ...JJ Maybank.” 

The frown increased in size; he’d heard the last name before. He’d hired a Maybank to do work on the roofing a few years back and remembered the man being nothing but a mean drunk. “If JJ wants to stay, we would love to have him.”

“I’ve got no where to be,” JJ replied, grinning at your dad. 

Lunch had already been finished when you went to call your dad, needing only to be plated, something you were thankful for because the awkward and uncomfortable silence that settled between JJ and your dad was unbearable. There was no way you could’ve survived waiting through lunch prep with the two of them.  

You weren’t even entirely sure what JJ was doing there. He hadn’t mentioned seeing you, he was supposed to be spending the day with his friends, as he’d already told you the night before when he snuck over because “couldn’t stay away”. He’d invited you on the boat but both your parents were home all day so there was little chance that you could go anywhere without drawing attention to yourself. Weekends were easier, your brothers and sisters who had stayed close came over with their kids and if you left no one missed you. But during the week it was just the three of you, an odd adjustment after so many years with so many kids.  

You sat at the table across from JJ, doing your absolute best not to look at him, knowing he was staring at you just to piss off your dad, who had already mentioned your upcoming engagement twice. Your mom let your dad lead the conversation like she always did and didn’t object to his over excessive mention of Timothy.  

“Do you go to the high school then?” She was doing her best to be polite, not completely certain your dad’s paranoia was based on fact. (“Just because you say you saw him in the yard doesn’t mean you saw him in the yard.”)

“Ah, yeah...” JJ nodded, “sometimes.” He took another bite of the sandwich, “hey, this is really good, you’re a really good cook.”

While The Wreck technically counted as homemade because it was Kiara’s dad who made it, JJ hadn’t eaten a real, home cooked meal, in a long time. His mom, when she had been around in his childhood, was not making lunches or any meals for him that she couldn’t microwave.  

“Oh, Ace made it.” Your mom said, beaming at you, “she’s a natural in the kitchen.” 

“You’ve been-“ JJ stopped himself short of saying you’d been holding out on him, coughing and then continuing on, “it’s good.”

“Thank you,” you chanced a glance up and then quickly back down at your plate. 

Lunch was excruciating and when it was finally over, JJ leaving and your dad watching him walk back into the woods, you told your parents you weren’t feeling well and went to lay down. You were flushed all over from lunch, sitting there across from JJ with your parents in the room. It was like knowing a secret you knew you weren’t supposed to. 

Tapping sounded on your window and you opened it, JJ standing there outside, “you’re gonna get me trouble,” you whispered. “My dad is convinced he’s seen you around our yard.”

“That’s cause he has.” JJ replied, kissing you once he was inside the room. 

“I know that.” You whispered, “what are you doing?”

“I’m reading your love letter from Timmy,” he shrugged, sitting down at your desk and pulling the letter out of the envelope. 

“It’s not a love letter,” you huffed. When you got close enough to try and take the letter away JJ spun in the chair, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his lap. 

“Let’s see, oh, coming to visit?” JJ said, poking your sides as he read the letter, leaving kisses along your shoulder. “So you get to go on a date?”

“Well, chaperoned.” You replied. “My dad wants to go somewhere ‘outer banks’ style, whatever he thinks that is, to show off to Timothy and his parents.” 

“Go to the Wreck.” JJ said. 

“I’m not going to Kie’s, I’m not gonna embarrass myself.” 

“Trust me,” JJ insisted, kissing you, “go to the Wreck.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it back out of his face and kissing him. Your hands moved down so you could hold his face, leaning your forehead against his.  

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his warm skin against yours.  

“I don’t want to do this.” You admitted, “I don’t wanna have dinner with Timmy.”  

“Hey,” JJ pulled his face away, tilting so he could look you in the eye, “That shit doesn’t mean anything.”  

“It does in the long run,” you replied. When you had gotten Timothy’s letter that morning you’d been more than upset, knowing he was coming to North Carolina felt like the last nail in the coffin before your dad was sending you off to Tennessee.  

“Do you like him?” He asked, matter of fact.

“No, no.” You shook your head. There was no way you had any feelings toward Timothy other than mild annoyance. He wasn’t bad but he wasn’t for you. And maybe he would’ve been if this was all there was but you had JJ and there was an entire other space out there. “I wish we could just…stay like this.”

“Me too.” JJ replied.  

You pulled away from him suddenly, remembering the way he’d looked when you had walked into the church and found him there with your father. “I forgot, you were upset earlier-”

“It’s fine, it was just a dumb fight with John B.” He insisted, “I’m over it.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything.” You promised. You had been secret keeper and confidant for your siblings plenty of times over the years and while their conflicts had never really been worthy the secrecy, you had still been good at the task.  

“I’m fine, I promise,” he repeated, “I was just upset and I wanted to see you.”

“Well you’re seeing me now,” you teased, holding his face again so you could kiss him, “though I think you should consider leaving before anyone comes to check on me.”

-

The Wreck was totally not where you wanted to be going on a chaperoned first date with a guy who looked almost more sheltered than you felt on a regular basis. He had khakis and a polo tucked in, spikey blond hair and you were trying so hard not to be mean in your head. This was the guy your parents thought would make a great addition to their family. This was your future husband?

Any concerns or reservations you had about Timothy went out the window as you walked into the Wreck ahead of him and realized that JJ and Pope were sitting at the counter. JJ turned in his stool as you came in, propping his chin on his hand and smiling at you. 

“Hey,” Kiara had donned jeans and a t-shirt for the occasion, “six?” 

“Actually, these two will have their own table.” Your mom piped up and you looked at Kiara, attempting to convey the absolute horror of the early evening dinner.  

“Of course,” she said, grabbing menus. You could hear your father behind you, mentioning JJ’s presence in the restaurant. Whether Kiara heard it or JJ had just requested that this be the most difficult first date to get through, the table she sat you at was facing the counter. Your parents sat two tables over with Timothy’s parents while you sat down in perfect view of JJ and Pope.  

“So, what’s good here?” Timothy asked, his voice an octave higher than he looked like it would be.

You scanned the menu as if you ate there all the time and then looked at Kiara, hoping she could offer more of an answer then you could.  

“The grits are good, we do them with sausage and shrimp.” Kiara replied.  

“That’s fine.” You handed off your menu, not bothering to consider another option. Even though Kiara knew that this was all something you had to do, you felt a sense of guilt, sitting there with Timothy while JJ was sitting at the counter.  

It was palpable, you felt like you could taste it in your mouth as you spoke, felt the guilt dripping off you. Timothy wasn’t the worst, probably, and, probably, in someone else’s life he would make them happy but you weren’t sure there was any reality that would allow you to walk away from what you had with JJ and resign yourself to this life. To your mom’s life, or your sisters’ lives.  

“I’ve been looking into getting my pilot’s license, I’ll be done seminary soon-” Timothy started to say after Kiara walked off.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were interested in becoming a pilot.” You replied, glancing over his shoulder at JJ who was turned around in his stool, his back against the counter, watching you. If your dad wasn’t facing the opposite direction you were certain he’d be having a fit right now.  

“...the plane license would take another year at least but it’s something I can easily pursue after the marriage and it would allow us the opportunity to be missionaries-”

“Missionaries?” You paled, focusing your attention back on Timothy and away from JJ.  

“Timmy’s older brother is ministering in Zambia and they’ve always talked about Timmy joining him,” his mom cut in.  

“Missionaries in Zambia...all the time?” You asked. Your father had already launched into a separate conversation about the importance of ministry work and you felt close to absolute collapse. When Kiara came back to the table to make sure the food was okay you practically clung to her, “bathroom?”

“Through the kitchen,” Kiara lied, noting the look of distress. “Our regular bathroom is being fixed.”  

“Thanks.” You bolted. Through the restaurant and the kitchen, right out the back door and you might’ve run all the way home but somehow JJ was right there, grabbing you as you collided with him. “I can’t do this...I can’t, I can’t....I can’t be a missionary! I can’t live in Zambia and have like thirteen kids and name them all something stupid and have poufy fucking hair!”  

“Whoa, hey, babe,” JJ urged, pulling you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s gonna be okay.”  

“What if it’s not?” You could keep pretending like you didn’t have to think about it but the truth was, you couldn’t run from your parents’ expectations and plans forever. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” JJ promised, kissing the side of your head as he stood there holding you, “I love you. And I don’t give a shit about Timmy, or your parents, or whatever...we’ll figure this out.”

“This was a bad idea, having lunch here.”

“Hey, I don’t think so. I got to hear you curse for the first time.” He joked. “We’ll be okay, just head back inside alright?”

“Okay,” you pulled away, fixing your hair and taking a deep breath, trying to right yourself. It was just dinner. It wasn’t Zambia yet. It wasn’t even the wedding. Just dinner and JJ was right there. “Oh, JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” You said before hurrying back inside, leaving him standing behind the Wreck with a sad smile on his face.  

-

“Scarlett does it every year with some of the kooks, like a raffle.” Sarah explained, recounting Scarlett’s ’Touron Game’ for JJ and John B, “500 to whoever gets the most tourons...they have like a scoring system. Kind of awful, I guess, but...I mean it’s not like they don’t know it’s just sex.”

“500?” JJ asked, “I could use that.”

“What are you gonna do, pimp yourself out?” John B joked.

“I’ll give you 200,” Sarah replied immediately, cutting her boyfriend off. She was looking across the parking lot of the convenience store.  

“What’s the catch?” JJ asked, following Sarah’s line of sight to the old minivan, a girl their age standing with her mom at the trunk.  

“That’s the weird pastor’s daughter, right?” Sarah asked, already knowing the answer, “get her to sleep with you. I’ll even give you the 200 dollars up front.”

“Yeah okay. It’s a deal.”  

-

Taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @outrbanks @mendesmaybank @thehomeiknow @minnie-bby @katiaw2 @2kayla64 

[starryeyedrookie]

Take Me Home (Ethan x MC)

Book: Set after Open Heart Book 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Evelyn Long)

Word count: 1,307

Rating: General

Category: Pure fluff

Summary: The Ramsey family take a road trip to New York to visit Evelyn’s grandparents for the weekend.

Author’s note: I was inspired to write this fic after a short embarrassing story that I told about Ethan from @jamespotterthefirst Newlywed Game questions which you can read here. This is the full story and also my first fic so I am open to comments and criticism. I hope you all enjoy reading it!❤️

“Evelyn? Evelyyyn?!” Ethan calls through the apartment to no response.

“I’m in here!” A voice calls from the master bedroom.

Opening the door, he finds Evelyn stuffing a suitcase, clothes scattered around her.

“Babe, why are you only packing now? We have to leave in an hour.”

“I packed before, but I was just checking to see if I had everything I needed.”

Ethan crosses the room to stand beside her. Looking into her suitcase, he finds that she’s packed seven underwear along with several different pairs of shoes.

“I highly doubt you’re going to need seven pairs of underwear for a three-day trip sweetheart.”

“I like to be prepared! You never know what can happen.” She starts checking off her fingers, “I can somehow fall into the water and get it wet, it can rip, I can-

He places a finger to her lips to silence her, laughing good-naturedly. “Also, if you’re having trouble closing that monster, it’s probably all those shoes.”

“I like to have options.” Evelyn insists.

“Okay, well please finish so we can start packing the car. We have to leave before the traffic gets too heavy.” Ethan says, kissing her sweetly before heading out of the room.

“Love you!” Evelyn calls after him.

“I love you too.”

A little while and a lot of tidying up later, the family of three is in Ethan’s car, ready to make the five-hour drive to New York to visit Evelyn’s grandparents for the Fourth of July weekend.

“I’m so happy! I haven’t seen my grandparents in a while, and this is the first time we’ve gotten to bring Jenner on a trip with us.” Evelyn states excitedly, petting a happily panting Jenner in the backseat.

Ethan smiles warmly at her. “Didn’t you mention to me that you used to live with your grandparents?”

“Ya, I lived with them while I was attending university. It made the experience better. Not having to live in a dorm, no constant instant ramen, all you’re typical broke college student things.”

“Did they mind having you stay for so long?”

“No, I didn’t see them in person super often as a kid, so they were happy to have the company with it being just the two of them and the dog.”

“They have a dog?”

“Ya, I told you. They have a corgi named Lucy.”

“And they’re okay with us bringing Jenner?”

Evelyn rolls her eyes. “Yes, Ethan. I specifically asked to make sure it would be okay.”

“Alright, as long as you’re sure.”

A few moments of silence pass. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Evelyn sighs.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks worriedly. “Did you forget something?”

“No, I didn’t. Do you know what the problem is?” Ethan arched an eyebrow in question. “We have no music! We can’t have a road trip without music!” She pulls out her phone to play her playlist.

“Oh no.” Ethan sighs, faking disdain although he knows that he loves it when she sings.

“Oh yes! Just a small-town girl! Livin’ in a lonely world! She drove in Ethan’s car goin’ anywhere!” They both start laughing, knowing that Evelyn loves to change the words in her favourite songs. “Sing with me, Ethan!”

“I’d much rather just listen to you sing sweetheart.”

“Please?” she asks, making puppy dog eyes at him. “The chorus is coming up.”

“Don’t stop. Believin’.” He starts singing. “Hold on to that feelin’!” Evelyn adds. “Streetlight, people!” They sing together happily for the rest of the drive.

A few hours later they arrive at Evelyn’s grandparents’ house, her grandpa waiting for them on the porch swing. “Papa!” she shouts as she runs out to greet him. “Evelyn! I haven’t seen you in so long! You look absolutely radiant.” he laughs, wiping tears from his eyes. “And Ethan, how are you? At the rate you’re going, you’ll look even better than me when you reach my age!” Ethan laughs. “Thank you, sir, but I don’t think that’s possible.” He goes in for a handshake. “Oh, we’re long past that my boy, come here! And please, we’re past sir as well. You’re my granddaughter’s husband so that makes me your Papa too.” he states wrapping Ethan in a big hug.

“Is Nana home?” Evelyn asked, having not seen her yet.

“She left a little while ago to take Lucy for her for a walk. You guys must be hungry. Do you want something to eat? I’m making dinner now, but your Nana made so much food before she left so you can have some now if you want.”

“Thank you, Papa. We should take Jenner for a walk to stretch his legs before we eat though. We had something to eat on the way here, so we’ll wait for dinner.” Evelyn smiles graciously.

“Okay, as long as you won’t be hungry, there’s that dog park down the street if you remember that you can go too. Nana takes Lucy there all the time.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“See ya’ll in a bit! And Jenner when you come back, I have a treat for you!”

“Woof woof!” Jenner barks as he happily wags his tail, relieved to be out of the car.

Following the trail to the park, Evelyn looks around. “Everything is just like I remember.”

“When was the last time you visited?”

“Two years ago. They went away last year for the holiday. Oh, there’s the park up ahead!” she says pointing to the park full of dogs and their owners. “Do you have the ball?”

“Right here,” Ethan responds, pulling the ball out of his pocket. He throws it as Jenner takes off running. Moments pass and he still hasn’t returned. “Where could he be?” Evelyn wonders aloud, shielding her eyes from the sun to look for Jenner, also just realizing that Ethan is no longer standing next to her. “Ethan? Ethan, where are you?!”

“I found him!” he shouts back, running to the sight of two dogs tangled together. “Jenner get off of her!” he scolds, standing to apologize to the owner. “I’m so sorry ma’am I- “Nana!” Evelyn runs to gather her grandmother in a hug. “Nana…?” Ethan blushes furiously, having not recognized her with her big hat and sunglasses.

“Evelyn, what a surprise! I didn’t expect you guys to get here so early!”

“We left earlier so we could beat the traffic. I’m so sorry about Jenner. We threw the ball and-

“Don’t worry about it, dear. Come here Ethan, let me get a better look at you!” Ethan steps forward hesitantly still reeling over the interaction that just happened moments ago. “Wow, so handsome! You look even better in person.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, still blushing.

“I didn’t take him to be a shy one Evey!”

“He’s not usually shy, I think you’re just matching his charming game, Nana.” Evelyn smiles, attaching Jenner back on his leash.

“Oh, I know sweetie. Come on.” she says, taking Ethan’s hand “dinner is probably ready and we should go eat if we’re going to see the fireworks later.”

Lots of food, dessert, and lively conversation later, everyone is headed to the park to watch the fireworks. Ethan lays down a blanket for him and Evelyn to sit on.

“So, did you have fun today?” Evelyn asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Aside from the fact that Jenner tried to jump Lucy, yes, it was quite nice.”

“Nana likes you a lot.”

“I know, some would think even more than you do,” he says laughing and kissing her hand.

“Not possible,” she responds, booping his nose.

Together, they watch the fireworks, an amicable silence settling between them.

“I love you, Evelyn. And I hope one day when we grow old, we'll be just like your grandparents. That we'll still care for, love, and adore each other as they do.”

“We will Ethan, ” she says, kissing him, “and I love you too.”

Tag list: @mercury84choices, @a-crepusculo, @emmasumbrella, @quixoticdreamer16, @choicesficwriterscreations

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!❤️

[bonshaquitalafawndreeah]

A bandwagoner’s ode to the Cubs

Let’s get one thing straight right away: I am absolutely not a sports fan. I hated sports most of my life because they made me feel excluded. I couldn’t catch or throw a ball or comprehend strategy. I was consistently picked last in gym class and then shunned by my classmates for making them lose a game of flag football. This made me a very bitter, non participatory person. I’m that basic betch who jokes about a football game interrupting the Beyoncé concert during the super bowl. I declare that I wish both teams could lose when the Bears play the Packers and I’m forced to watch. I don’t even join in at cookouts when people start playing bags. (And I’m sure by now you’re thinking, “wow, you must be fun at parties.”)

I am NOT a fan of sports, but I am a fan of the Chicago Cubs.

Or at least I’m something adjacent to being a fan. (I am somewhere in the “ballpark” if you will.) Is it fair to lump me in with people who bleed Cubbie Blue and can recite rosters from the 90’s? God no! I am a casual admirer at best and although I come from a long line of Cub fans I admittedly payed zero attention to the sport until the 2016 World Series. You could say I’m a bandwagoner but I’m even worse than that. Even after they won the first World Series in 108 years I was still not super interested in sitting through a game. It wasn’t until my husband dragged me to Wrigley under the guise of “spending a day together in the city” that I realized there’s something truly magical about the experience.

Maybe I also happened to be in a magical season of life. We were newlyweds and the World Series win coincided with our honeymoon. My husband wore a Cubs cap to every bar and restaurant and we were congratulated by every person we met. People who had never even been to Illinois were so happy and excited for us. I was buzzing with the kind of pride you feel when something newsworthy happens in your hometown.

I grew up two hours away from Chicago, but moved to the suburbs around 2016. During that chapter, it felt like the entire world was opening up for me and everything was exciting. I had just gotten the job I used to dream about and had coworkers that would quickly start to feel like family. On weekends David and I would take the train from Glen Ellyn to the city. As I sipped a coffee and watched the scenery roll by I couldn’t believe my luck. A friendless little girl from the boonies had found a little community she could thrive in, and it was all next door to one of the world’s greatest cities.

That first Cubs game felt like a fairy tale. I knew I would enjoy drinking beer and eating a hot dog, but I planned on being bored by the rest of it. I didn’t expect to immediately fall in love with the charm of Wrigleyville. Everyone in the stadium was twinkle-in-their-eyes friendly. The blooper reels were cute and funny. Anthony Rizzo stepped to the plate while “Bad Blood” by Taylor Swift blasted and won my heart forever. I developed a genuine investment in the outcome of the game and cheered and groaned with gusto. I somehow got to watch them win that day and we jumped up and down and sang “go Cubs go” as though we had accomplished something incredible. As we left our seats I was grinning from ear to ear like a little kid. We stopped for drinks at the Cubbie Bear and I told David I had just accidentally discovered my favorite thing to do in Chicago.

Over the years we went to a few more games. Sometimes we went alone. Other times we brought David’s family. Once we dragged along a good friend who was moving across the country the next day, and another who had just finished an overnight shift. Once we went in early April and it was so cold and rainy that I bought a souvenir blanket for $50. I wore it around my shoulders like a cape in every place we stopped. For the very first time, I understood why people passionately love and defend their teams.

In 2019 we didn’t go to any games because my mental health took a nosedive. I was having panic attacks daily and for whatever reason they were most severe when I was in a car, or basically any place where I couldn’t step away “if I really needed to.” I was pretty scary to be around. I spent the summer going to therapy and sitting around at home waiting to snap out of it. The thought of surviving a train ride or a day in a packed stadium made me queasy.

But I always said that the first thing I wanted to do when I started feeling better was go back to Wrigley. I knew that this extra special era for the Cubs would be short-lived. The current team was really entertaining to watch. They had star power that would be hard to replace and they probably wouldn’t stick around forever. I could never love baseball for stats and numbers and performance metrics. I loved the feeling of joy that these players brought.

At the start of 2020 I was doing so much better and was really excited to get back out there. I couldn’t wait to do all the things that I had caused us to miss. And then, as you know... the rest of 2020 happened.

Going to a game was at the top of my summer 2021 bucket list. But work, birthdays, and family kept pushing it back. We were finally supposed to go to a game in mid-July and it was rained out and rescheduled for September.

And this past weekend the entire core of the Cubs was traded away to other teams. Never in a hundred million trillion years did I expect to be the person to care about this, but I’ve been in mourning all weekend.

For this fair-weather fan, Javy, KB, And Rizzo made sports feel approachable and fun. As someone who DOES NOT SPORT at all, I never believed that I deserved a place in that world, but I felt welcome in the little world they created. The absence of their personalities is going to hurt. A big part of me wonders If I’m better off leaving Wrigley behind me, a rose colored memory of being young and happy in my favorite city and believing that magical things can last forever.

I’m sure we’ll go back for a game again some day. But who knows who will be on the roster then? Or if we’ll have a baby in tow. It’ll be a far cry from stacking towers out of our empty beer cups, swooning over Kris Bryant, and knowing that you have all the time in the world to recreate the fun again and again.

So to wrap this thing up in a way that makes it all about meeeeeee...

The disbanding of this group feels deeply personal. Like I’m leaving behind a slightly more innocent chapter, where I could believe my city and my team were the very best and always would be. And just as they’re moving on to new and necessary adventures, my next chapter will likely be something much more realistic and adult.

But it was sure fun while it lasted.