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babydollmarauders · 9 months

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SPEAK NOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n attends her ex-boyfriend, Quinn’s wedding and can’t hold her peace

notes: barely any dialogue. like i’m so serious, very little dialogue. also not proofread and i think i hate this but it’s fine because i don’t think i could do any better and i worked way too long on this.

it was the last thing i expected.

to receive the elegant white cardstock that sits in my hand. flowers of muted colors are printed across the bottom, cursive lettering across the top.

‘You Are Formally Invited to the Wedding of Quinn Hughes & Lindsay Carter’

it’s not that i didn’t think this day would come. quite on the contrary, i feared it would come sooner. i know firsthand how special Quinn is. i knew some lucky girl would lock him down. Quinn is the type of love that you never let go.

but i did.

i made the mistake of letting go of his love.

letting go of him.

and now i’ll be forced to watch as he marries another girl. one who provided comfort and a shoulder for him to cry on when i broke his heart. one who helped him glue the pieces back together after i left.

we had both known the risks. getting together despite the warnings of his brothers. and Jack was right.

“romance is not worth risking a lifelong friendship.”

because in the end, i lost both.

i lost the love of my life and my best friend since kindergarten.

now reduced to awkward tension at conjoined family events, and pity invites to major events like these. more awkward to invite me than it is to face me afterwards, knowing that i knew what was happening and was deliberately left out.

setting the invitation on the counter, i check yes on the guest list website on my phone. confirming that i’ll be in attendance.

despite the envy that weighs heavy in my heart, and the irrational feeling of betrayal that eats at me, i know i’ll feel worse missing this milestone in Quinn’s life.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

i’ve had months to prepare for this moment. to guard my heart and get ready to watch the only man i’ve ever loved, get married to another woman.

and in spite of that, all i’ve done is the very thing i spent the last two years keeping myself from doing.

asking about Lindsay.

i never thought they would get this far. under the impression that this was a fling and wouldn’t last long. the only thing i knew for two years was that they were opposites.

Quinn is a responsible, down-to-earth guy, focusing on feelings and equality in relationships. whereas she was more materialistic; never attending Quinn’s games unless she was guaranteed a photo opportunity, using his card to buy luxury items, and according to Jack, constantly reminding Quinn how low he had felt before she came into his life.

and now, after asking around and learning everything i could, i can guarantee that Quinn doesn’t know half the things that i do.

i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she was a bully in high school, that that mean girl attitude never left. i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she brags to all her friends that she bagged a rich fiancé and she’ll never have to work to afford her luxury lifestyle, or that she has no issue in saying he isn’t attractive but his money makes up for it. and i know he doesn’t know she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer when Quinn is out of town.

and i know what i must do today, despite my nerves.

there’s still thirty minutes until the ceremony actually begins, and no matter how much i’ve steeled myself, i’ll never be ready to face the pity filled glances and the sympathetic words of Quinn and i’s families and friends. so, i wander the halls of the stuffy church, thinking about how unlike Quinn this all is.

perhaps he’s changed his mind since we had fantasizingly planned our own wedding. laid in bed, the golden sunrise lighting his face in a greek god-like way, speaking in hushed whispers, discussing our dream wedding. nothing like this one.

my feet pause on their own accord as yelling reaches my ears, and i identify the sound coming from an open door down the hall as Lindsay.

“are you stupid?” her voice drifts out of the room, carried by the empty space. “i told you to get nude heels, not cream!”

i make quick work to pass by the room, catching just a glimpse of the blonde bride, her fluffy white gown swallowing her.

heaving out a relieved sigh, i try to ignore the pounding in my chest, turning left down the hall and towards the main room. maybe it’s best for me to just get the pity and commiseration over with.

my heels click against the hardwood floor of the crowded room, and a hush falls over most of the right side. Quinn’s side.

scanning the room, i’m grateful to find Trevor and Cole. i know Quinn’s family is with him getting ready, but i at least have these two to bring me some comfort amongst the sea of strangers.

“y/n, you came!”

pop! the comfort bubble has broken. i thought i could trust Cole to treat me normally, but the gentle incredulous tone of his voice tells me otherwise. a mix of shock and sympathy.

“yeah, of course i did.” my lips quirk in a forced smile, shoving any resentment and nerves down deep inside me. “i wouldn’t miss Quinny’s big day.”

“y/n/n, you know you don’t have to act strong in front of us, right?” Trevor’s hand rubs my arm, providing the perfect grounding for me.

“yeah, no, i know that.” i nod. “but seriously, guys, i’m fine. i knew this day would come.”

“it’s not too late.” Cole jokes. “the priest does say that whole ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ thing, right?”

i let out a genuine chuckle at the deep and ominous tone he uses to imitate the priest; the first real laugh i’ve had all day. if only he knew.

i join Trevor and Cole in finding seats, sitting in the 4th row. not quite at the front, but also not quite the middle. i perch in the seat closest to the aisle, open for a quick getaway if needed.

the guys engage me in small talk, asking me about my job and frowning when i give the generic answer of ‘it’s okay.’

but i couldn’t tell them the truth, could i? that i hated it. that i regretted ever taking it. that it wasn’t the job that was bad, but rather that i was filled to the brim with resentment that it took me away from the man i love.

i knew i had brought it upon myself. i made myself this miserable. i chose this job over him. i got the internship and thought Quinn and i could withstand the distance while i was in Boston, but i was wrong. we didn’t make it more than two months before i was forced to watch our relationship crumble before me; knowing there was nothing i could do to fix us, i had to let him go.

i knew he would live on. i knew he would be able to put our relationship in the past. but i was only more disconsolate than ever. stuck in a mournful heartbreak. unable to move on and unwilling to try.

i’m shaken from my thoughts by Cole, who points out the mother of the bride walking down the aisle, signifying that the ceremony is getting underway.

i strain my back, twisting around in my seat. my eyes are drawn to the open double doors, where Quinn makes his entrance. his parents on either side of him.

my heart races in my chest, my nerves settling low within my stomach. he looks breath taking. but i can’t help noticing the lack of spark in his eyes. the once lively eyes that used to be so full of emotion, now seem empty.

my gaze tracks his movement, following as he walks down the aisle and to the altar, coming to a stop in front of the priest. his parents take their seats as he scans the room, seemingly searching, and when our eyes meet, he seems to stiffen. his back straightening and his jaw locking.

i can only hope my eyes convey everything i’m thinking.

i’m sorry.

please don’t do this.

his brothers are quick to follow down the aisle, decked out in navy blue suits, joining him at the altar as his groomsmen.

Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk when he sees me, and he sends me a wink, but i can’t muster anything more than a simple straight lipped expression.

the next 20 minutes go by in a blur, a haze of bridesmaids and eventually Lindsay making her entrance.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore - is not by any - to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly - but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly.”

the priest begins, and i’ve been to enough weddings to know what comes next. steeling my nerves, i take a deep breath in, letting it escape back past my lips with a silent whoosh.

“should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

a silence falls over the room, the priest looking out over the seated crowd.

my hands tremble by my sides, anxiety growing deep within me, but i know this is my last chance.

i rise to my feet, slowly and shakily. i can hear whispers start from the left side of the room, and i glance around to find everyone staring at me with horrified looks. everyone but Quinn’s immediate family and friends.

Jack and Luke share a glance before letting out relieved sighs; but i’m only focused on Quinn, who stares back at me with wide eyes and parted lips.

“go on.” the priest urges me, an annoyed expression painting his face.

Lindsay’s face turns red, hands balled into fists at her sides.

“don’t say ‘yes’.” i plead of Quinn.

“y/n-” he sighs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest, the well-known effect he has on me.

“you need to hear me out.” i beg. “Quinn, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let us go, i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder for us, and i’m sorry i ever even took that stupid internship. but even if i’m too late to win you back, you deserve better than this.

“she’s been using you for your name and your money.” i continue, but Quinn squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief. whether he’s in disbelief of Lindsay or me, i can’t be sure. “and she’s been cheating on you.”

gasps sound out across the room and his eyes snap open wide again. his gaze flickers between me and his bride, who has now turned a pale white; all color draining from her face at my accusation.

“she’s lying! she just wants you to herself! she had her chance and she lost it and now she doesn’t want you happy.” Lindsay cries out.

“i have it on good authority that she’s been sleeping with her trainer when you’re out of town. you know i wouldn’t say anything if i weren’t completely sure. if i didn’t have proof.” i tell him “and you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who will be absolutely head over heels, purely, and loyally in love with you. and i’m not saying that i’m that person for you. this isn’t me begging for a second chance, even if i am still out of my mind in love with you. i just can’t stand idly by and watch you make a mistake. i can’t let you marry her without knowing the truth.”

i take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. silence plagues the room, astonishment written all over the faces over every guest in attendance.

“okay, that’s all i wanted to say.” i purse my lips and nod, stepping out into the aisle. my heels click against the floor as i make my exit, not staying to see the outcome of my outburst.

***

i sit on my couch, staring at my hands fidgeting in my lap; my phone shut down entirely and sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me, not ready to face the consequences of my earlier actions.

a movie plays on my tv, but i pay no attention, only having put it on in attempt to escape my thoughts and avoid the quiet.

it’s been approximately twelve hours since i objected to my ex’s wedding. now midnight, and my anxiety has not lessened. i have no clue whether Quinn carried on with his marriage or if he took my words to hold the truth. too afraid to find out.

i’m broken out of my trance by a heavy knock sounding out on the door of my apartment, and i stand frantically. i expect that it’s Jack or one of the many other friends in attendance of the wedding this afternoon, but my heart rate picks up when i look through the peephole to find the very man i confessed my love to today.

my hand shakes as i unlock the door, opening it to reveal Quinn. he’s no longer in his tux, rather adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he still looks handsome to me.

“Quinn.”

“i didn’t say my vows.” he rushes out.

“what?” i question, fearing i heard him wrong.

“i didn’t say my vows.” he repeats, pushing past me and into my entry hall. “she tried to deny what you told me, but i trust you. i held my ground, and she confessed everything. you were right.”

“Quinn, please.” i plead. “i’m happy that you’re not upset with me but i can’t-”

“i’m so glad you were there.” he cuts me off, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “were you telling the truth?”

“Quinn, you just said she confessed-” i push against his chest, tears gathering in my eyes.

“about being sorry. about still being in love with me. were you telling the truth?” he clarifies, his free hand coming up to hold both of mine in his clutch, and my arms go slack.

“yes.” the tension in the air is palpable, and i’m unsure whether it’s worrisome or comforting.

“say it again.” he breathes out, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

“i love you.” a lone tear spills over my waterline, rolling down my cheek. “i am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.”

his lips crash upon mine in a bruising kiss, finally letting go of my hands in favor of resting his right one against my cheek. i stiffen against him, seizing up in his hold, and he pulls back. his eyes scan my face, his face etched in worry.

“did i do something wrong?” a hoarse whisper, our faces still millimeters apart.

my hands raise to cup the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to mine. my eyes flutter shut,this time it’s slow and passionate; holding my heart on my sleeve as i pour my soul out to him in the form of a kiss.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine, but my eyes remain shut. we’re both silent, nothing but the sound of our mingling breaths and the tv lowly drifting in from the other room.

“i love you too.”

#speak now fic list #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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k-dokja · 7 months

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Pretty.

— Reader is a wee bit strange, Riddle has a teensy attachment issue. Female reader, has been with Riddle since their younger days. Also written like a tangent I haven’t reread the thing don’t make me

Riddle is pretty.

You remember thinking that one morning when you sit next to him in class. You can’t focus because last night you’ve been staying up late to study and now you can’t perceive anything but the formulas and how pretty Riddle is.

His eyes sharpen with focus while he scribes down on his notes. He always has such pretty handwriting, you love to have him writing letters for you because you can preserve them forever. Riddle always grumbles but he always does as you ask.

Pretty Riddle with his stray stands of hair falling down and obscuring his vision. You reach up to push them out before he can. He looks at you in surprise, not expecting you to act this fast. Then his cheeks redden, noticing your undivided attention. He hisses, “Focus on class, I’m not helping you later if you forgot the materials.”

He returns to his work after that, pointedly ignoring you. Silly Riddle, you wouldn’t ask him to break a rule for you. It would break his heart along with every other breakable thing within his distance. You wouldn’t want him to get unnecessary grievance, not when the pressure is on his shoulder as is.

You want your Riddle to stay pretty. He’s always prettier when he’s happy.

Riddle is pretty, even with his nose and eyes red.

Bundled up in autumn clothes, he looks ready for a new school year already. But he isn’t the one leaving, you are. Your parents have been mindful enough to stay back while you say your goodbyes with Riddle. It warms your heart to have such caring people around you, even if all you can see now is Riddle.

“You better call often,” he says, adjusting your scarf for what would be the sixth time, “I’ll try to visit when I can, but if I—“

“I’ll miss you.”

His eyes widen and you think he looks prettiest then. With his cheeks crimson and his eyes glassy again, he looks away from you, trying to hold back his emotions. Before you can say anything else, he hugs you close. The force of his skinny arms are strong, stronger than anyone would expect. Except for you, because you know. You have hugged Riddle many times. Never did he do it with this ferocity, but you know it is only the intensity of his feeling.

You hug him back, relishing in the feeling of him in your arms. Your pretty Riddle with his pretty scent, you won’t have neither for a while.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he chokes out.

“I’ll think of you often,” you rub soothing circles on his back and he hugs you tighter.

“And I you.”

He pulls back after a moment then looks at you. You wonder if he’s trying to commit your face to his memories and if he worries that the pictures in his phone won’t suffice. Riddle kisses your hair, softer now after the previous outburst. Maybe he worries your parents would have judgement, but that thought is thrown out when he kisses you again.

Hard and bruising, but quick enough to not draw the looks of strangers. His lips part in shock when he retreats, not expecting himself to have pulled that stunt. “My apologies, I…”

You kiss him, on the cheek this time, even if your lips crave for his again. “Let’s meet again, soon,” you silence out any of his thoughts about regret then step away from him.

Silly Riddle, he doesn’t know how pretty he is when he looks like that. He shouldn’t let shame overwhelm him. His memories of you should only be happy, you won’t have it otherwise.

Riddle is pretty, beaming at you from across the yard and brightening when he sees you.

He has promised to visit. He always keeps his promises. Your college is not that far from his and if anything, teleportation is always an option. Never mind the specifics, all that matters is that Riddle is here and he’s happy. Happier when you tackles him with a hug, he accepts you like you’re always meant to be there in his arms.

“Riddle!”

“Hi,” he says, nose buried into the crook of your next, “it’s nice to be with you again.”

“It’s nice for me too,” you cling to him and he shows no opposition to your actions.

Pretty Riddle. Hair nice and soft, he smells prettier than he has been before. You’ve missed him, even with the calls and texts. Nothing can ever replace having him with you. “You should quit Night Raven College and be here with me.”

He laughs. He doesn’t know because you smile when you proposed the idea, but you always meant it. Meant every word when you said you want to be with him forever, meant every feeling when you professed to him.

Maybe he does and he doesn’t mind. Why else would he keep you for this long?

Riddle rarely lets go of your hand for the duration of his stay. You like the proximity, but worry that he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets you go for too long. Silly Riddle, there is no one else you’d want to be with other than him. You never want to worry him and you never stay away for long enough to make him frown.

Pretty as he is then, he’s prettier when he’s happy. You always want your Riddle the best he can be.

Riddle is pretty, on his knee and staring up at you.

You can see it in his eyes, everything you wanted from Riddle and more. Riddle would do anything for you, anything and everything. All you have to do is say yes.

The ring shines a pretty ruby red, pretty like his hair but hard where it is soft. You don’t remember what you said in answer, but Riddle has never been prettier before. When he slides the ring on your finger, all you can see is him. His mouth is moving but you can’t hear the words, you feel him holding you but you can’t sense the warmth.

All that echoes in your head is that you’ll be his, fully and completely. When people speak of you, they’ll call you with his name. Where he ends will be where you begin and it is all and everything that you want from him. Even if he doesn’t promise you a wedding, you’d want your pretty Riddle.

As long as he’s yours and happy, you care for little else. But Riddle is a stickler for rules and traditions. He’d want the wedding, the cake, the dance, and the party. Preparations take long days and long hours before anything is set in stone. You’re impatient, you want to be Riddle’s.

But you won’t voice those thoughts because he looks so happy to prepare. When he smiles at you, nought else seems to matter. Long as the outcome is inevitable, you have no reason to complain.

After all, there is only one and final ending.

Riddle is pretty, pretty in white when the bells toll.

Pretty forever and pretty for you.

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #fics #funnier if you think of this as my usual reader of riddle #because his pov for other fic is very much my sweet darling gf who can do no wrong :)#meanwhile her head is like :) riddle :)#riddle :) pretty riddle :) silly riddle :) silly pretty riddle :)

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jupitercomet · 6 months

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The Bradley Bradshaw Sex Playlist

summary - Jake Seresin is what his friends like to call "a douche bag". His work friends were all dudebros (he’s since cut them off for that very reason) and the last time he'd been in a serious relationship was his junior year of college (he’s working on it). But Jake’s trying his hardest not to be a douche bag (though he sometimes ends up putting money in Bradley's "Douche Bag Jar" anyway). And it’s all because of an Elementary school teacher with an alarming amount of sock puppets and a never-ending supply of Starbursts. There is a very real possibility the "Douche Bag Jar" might no longer be necessary.

warnings - New Girl au, fluff, angst, slowburn, language, very suggestive, Reuben is wing man #1

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 3.7k

okay here it is finally... season two! if it's worse than season one you can't say anything okay? it's the law, you have to be nice to me. anyway enjoy more of Peach and the gang :)

the douche bag jar masterlist

“Hold on.” Reuben pulls his yogurt stained spoon out of his mouth to point it at you. “That’s it? You almost kissed him and then nothing happened?”

Your eyes flutter around the teachers lounge to see if Reuben’s volume had drawn any attention. To your luck, the last teacher in didn't have the courtesy to refill the coffee pot, so it seems your colleagues are a little too sleep deprived to care. You give Reuben a glare.

“Yes, that’s all that happened. What did you expect would happen, he’s my roommate!”

“Your roommate who you almost kissed,” Reuben looks at you pointedly, taking another slurp of yogurt.

You roll your eyes. “I knew I should have told Maria instead.”

“Please, you act like I won’t the second I get home. I’m drafting the text right now.”

You lift up on your seat just to check that Reuben isn’t currently texting his wife about your train wreck of a love life, only to find the hand that isn’t holding his yogurt spoon entirely empty and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Jerk.”

“I just don’t see why you’re acting like it didn’t happen,” Reuben ignores you, circling the conversation back to you and your roommate troubles—or more specifically, your Jake troubles.

“Well, I—” You bite your lip, rolling it between your teeth nervously as you avoid your friend’s gaze. “He’s acting like it didn’t happen. I don’t know, there were a lot of emotions and… And he probably just got caught up in the moment— We both did. I don’t think he meant it.”

Reuben looks at you knowingly. “Did you want him to mean it?”

“No…” you start hesitantly. “Maybe?” Covering your face in your hands you groan. “I don’t know. Ugh, this is all just so confusing!”

Reuben laughs, offering no sympathy as you try to get Jake and his stupid face out of your head. The thing is that you don’t want to know how you feel about almost kissing Jake because, no matter what your verdict is, you know a relationship with Jake could never happen. He’s your roommate, one of your best friends, and pursuing your almost kiss or whatever it was means there’s a chance you could lose that.

Besides, you already tried going on a date with Jake. And it ended in you trying to hold off tears on your drive home and Jake working out his anxieties at a strip club. If that wasn’t an indication that you and Jake would never work as a couple, you don’t know what is. The best thing you could do is chalk it all up to a “heat of the moment” thing and forget about it.

You almost kissed Jake. So what? It’s not going to happen again.

“What about Mrs. Randall?” You try not so subtly to change the subject. “She really quit?”

Your deflection of everything Jake does not go unnoticed by your friend, but he doesn’t push you on the topic further. Instead, he drops his spoon in his now empty yogurt cup and licks the residual yogurt from off his lips.

“Oh, yeah,” he elongates the words with an emphasizing nod. “I don’t really know what happened, all I know is I did not know that woman knew that many curse words.”

Mrs. Randall had been one of the fourth grade teachers at Coolidge Elementary for as long as you had been working. You honestly don’t have that much of a memory of her though. You both ran in different teacher circles, and were assigned different lunch hours which definitely decreased your interaction time. The only reason Reuben even knew anything was because his classroom shared a wall with hers.

From what you can remember of Mrs. Randall, you’re not entirely surprised her career at Coolidge Elementary ended the way it did. She was a bit of a brisk woman, very no nonsense. Your third graders had once performed a sock puppet show on recycling for the whole school and she was not impressed in the slightest, even going as far as sending out a school-wide email about how time might be better spent if kids weren’t forced to “watch each other play dress up”.

You just feel sorry that she can’t see the joy in a good puppet show. You also may or may not have organized two more puppet shows that year.

“Anyway, there’s no way she’s coming back,” Reuben finishes.

You nod. “Sounds like it. Do you think the school will try to pass her new kids off to one of us?”

“They better not.” Reuben matches your unsure expression. “Carmen and Joyce are already sharing a classroom, I don’t know where else they could go.”

Though he says that, you both actually do know where Mrs. Randall’s fourth graders would go if the school was out of options - the third grade teachers.

You let out a breath, putting on a strained smile. “Well, who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll find someone right before the school year starts.”

“Peach!”

Jake’s voice bounces off the brick buildings around you and you freeze in front of the glass doors of your apartment building. He jogs to catch up with you, his hand still held up in a wave. Reuben’s words—and the conversation you both had in the teacher’s lounge—comes back to you as Jake gets closer. You can do this! You just pretend that everything is normal and it’ll be fine. Everything is normal. It’s just you and Jake… being friends. Just like you always have been.

“Jake!” You greet with what you hope isn’t an awkward smile.

“Hey,” he lets out the word in a breath, gaze dropping to meet your eye. “What are the chances, huh?” He gestures to the two of you and the fact you’ve both arrived home at the same time.

“Yeah…” You purse your lips into a smile, rocking on your feet.

You and Jake haven’t talked about your almost kiss—you haven’t even tried to bring it up. It doesn’t make your relationship with him uncomfortable, you just don’t really know where the two of you stand. Because what did it mean? Should you even care what it meant? Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

Jake clears his throat, moving to grab the door and hold it open for you. “So… How’s the classroom coming?”

“Good!” This time the smile on your face is more genuine as you thank him for holding the door. “I’m still deciding on a theme, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

Jake grins, fiddling to loosen his tie. “I hear peaches are a pretty cute theme.”

You scoff playfully. “Shut up.” Knocking him with your hip, you press the elevator button with your thumb.

The elevator opens quickly and Jake helps usher you inside, pressing the button to your floor as you get your black flats situated on the carpeted floor of the elevator.

“How was your day?” You ask suddenly as the doors close. Your smudgy reflection looks back at you as the elevator lurches upwards.

“Alright,” Jake shrugs. You wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

Ever since what happened with you and his coworkers, Jake doesn’t really like to talk about work. He’s also started coming home earlier too—the amount of work he brings with him lessening every time. You’re not necessarily upset that you don’t have to talk about Billy Avalone and Brigham Lennox, but you also don’t want Jake to think that he can’t talk about certain things for your sake.

Instead of saying any of that, you only nod, feeling the elevator come to a stop underneath you. The doors open and both you and Jake step out. Your steps slow as you try to find your keys in your dress pocket. The cool metal comes into contact with your fingers and you pull out the key chain, finding the loft key quickly. Catching up to Jake, you move to unlock the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Jake’s arm around your waist stops you from opening the door to the loft. His hand tenses on your hip, warming your skin through the fabric of your dress with large, splayed fingers. You look back at him in surprise, hand slipping off the doorknob.

“What—” Jake cuts you off with a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet as he listens. There’s faint music coming from inside the loft, nothing entirely unusual with two other roommates. Again you question why he stopped you from opening the door in the first place. You huff, before dropping your voice to a whisper. “Why did you do that?”

Jake holds a finger up, as if pointing at the muffled music. “Bradley’s having sex right now.”

“What?”

“Bradley has a playlist he only uses when he’s having sex,” Jake explains, still in a hushed voice. “We’re listening to the Bradley Bradshaw sex playlist right now.”

You open your mouth to respond, before you stop yourself quickly, something else taking sudden precedence in your mind. “Why is ‘Hotel Room’ on his sex playlist?”

“Male pattern baldness is an epidemic, peach. It helps him feel more empowered to know that bald men can be sex symbols,” Jake nods sagely and you can feel your eyebrows raise to your hairline as you cover your mouth to hide your surprised laugh.

You can’t stop the giggles spilling from your lips, shaking your head in disbelief, and Jake lights up with a goofy grin. “Pitbull is not a sex symbol!”

Your laughter comes to an abrupt halt when a loud moan can be heard from the loft.

“Tell that to her,” Jake smirks.

Your eyes widen and you hit his arm repeatedly, scrambling away from the door. “Oh my god!” You whisper-scream. “Bradley’s having sex right now!”

“I just told you that,” Jake laughs, lighting up again when your horror renews.

You shake your head aggressively, trying to clear your brain of the image of Bradley making some poor woman moan to the beat of Pitbull’s “Hotel Room”... Well, maybe not poor woman, you correct yourself, grimacing as another noise of pleasure passes through the door. She seems to be enjoying herself at least. You almost want to think “good for her”, but then you remember it’s Bradley and then you want to pour bleach into your ears.

“Ew, ew, ew.” You scrunch your eyes closed as if that will somehow help. It’s then that you realize that Jake’s arm is still wrapped around you because his added weight throws you off and you almost trip, only saved from landing on your ass when Jake’s arm tightens and you’re pressed against his chest as he catches you. You can feel him shaking with laughter and you give his bicep another shove. “Jake, they’re— I mean, he’s— Oh god, and with his—”

Your hands are smashing into each other, your entire body thrown off-kilter now that you fully understand what exactly you’re hearing going on in the loft.

“Hold on, hold on. Can you not talk about sex?” Jake finally gets out between his chuckling.

Your mouth snaps shut at his words, cheeks almost on fire as you sputter, “I can too talk about sex!”

“Oh, yeah?” Jake raises his eyebrows to mock you, his tongue prodding his cheek. “Do it then. Say ‘Bradley is currently sticking his dick’—”

You slap a hand over Jake’s mouth, panic and disgust all over your features, and the rest of his sentence muffles against your palm. Keeping your hand firmly pressed against his lips, you glare at him. “If we were in the loft, I would so jar you right now!”

You can feel Jake’s smirk grow against your palm, the man not fazed in the slightest by your threat. He wraps his finger and thumb around your wrist slowly, making a show of removing your hand from his face—all the while, that smirk never leaving his cheeks.

“We can go in the loft if you want. Ya know, the loft where Bradley’s currently having—” He drops his head, his lips brushing your ear, “—sex.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you have to suppress a shiver at Jake’s husky tone. Instead, you give him another shove, taking satisfaction in the fact that you get him to stumble a bit. From behind you, the song changes to “All The Time”.

You point at Jake accusingly. “You are disgusting. And also missing the bigger question here.”

“And what’s that, peach?” The smirk still hasn’t left Jake’s lips as he looks down at you cockily.

Another moan filters into the hall, this time louder and more… frantic. You jut your finger at the door.

“Why is Bradley having sex at 5 in the afternoon?”

It takes Bradley a second to realize that you and Jake are staring at him weirdly from the couch. His whistling trails off and he stops drying his curls with a towel, turning towards the two of you with a raise of one of his brows. Suspiciously, you suddenly seem completely unable to make eye contact with him, keeping your gaze trained on the floor and only looking at him when you think he’s moved his attention to Jake. Jake just has a somewhat impressed smirk on his face, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing in Bradley’s opinion, but he has no idea what he’s done to earn it, so it is slightly off-putting.

“You good?” He checks with the two of you.

Jake nods his head exaggeratedly. “Oh yeah. Are you?” He wiggles his brows.

“Yeah…?” Bradley trails off uncertainly. You still aren’t looking at him, fiddling with your fingers as if they’re more interesting than the two men in front of you.

Jake takes a nonchalant sip of his water, setting it down on the coffee table. “Is your lady friend?”

“What?!”

Bradley’s towel drops to the floor, his eyes widening. Jake only looks more amused, but, at his outcry, you’re finally able to look him in the eye.

“What lady friend? I don’t have a lady friend!” Bradley shakes his head so hard, he thinks he might have given himself whiplash.

“We, um, we heard you today…” You state shyly, before hastily adding, “Not that there’s any judgment! As long as you’re two consenting adults, what you do in your free time is your choice. And— And I’m happy that you’re able to express yourself… in that way. I think it’s important and healthy—”

“I was watching porn!”

The room falls silent.

Bradley’s chest is heaving as he watches you and Jake take in his words. Truthfully, he had not been watching porn, but instead hooking up with your best friend, just like he’s been consistently doing for the last couple months. It was mostly Natasha’s decision to keep it a secret—which she had conveyed to him through many threats to his manhood—meaning that you, Jake, and Mickey did not know about the arrangement.

Bradley had never been good under pressure, he’s a terrible liar and he gets back sweats. But he can’t have any of you thinking that he’s hooking up with a girl because, if Natasha catches wind of it, she might call off the whole thing. And that’s the last thing Bradley wants.

Jake narrows his eyes in disbelief. “You were watching porn?”

“Yup!” Bradley chuckles awkwardly. “Just me and ol’ righty.” He holds up his right hand and you wrinkle your nose at the insinuation. “No girls.”

Though he just showered, Bradley can feel his t-shirt sticking to his back and he forces a wide smile on his face as you and Jake stare at him and his raised hand. Jake looks completely suspicious, and like he wants to question Bradley more, and you look even more terrified than when the conversation started, your mouth clamped shut and eyes wide.

Jake crosses his arms. “You were not—”

“What about you two, huh?” Bradley accuses suddenly. “That’s awfully early for you both to be coming home—” (He knows this because he specifically planned for you all to be out before he invited Natasha over). “Maybe you two were trying to have sex!”

“What?!”

“What the fuck, dude!”

You and Jake speak at the same time and you go as far as scrambling off the couch, nearly falling over to put some distance between you and the blond.

“That’s— That’s crazy! Me and Jake would never—” You start laughing nervously. “Why would you even say that?”

Jake is suspiciously quiet, but Bradley can’t really even think about that because he’s still not sure if he’s thrown the two of you off his scent yet. Jake’s eyes dart over you, almost as if he’s checking you didn’t hurt yourself falling off the couch, before he turns back to Bradley with a sudden lock in his jaw. “You know that me and Peach weren’t coming home to hookup.”

“So you agree,” Bradley pushes. “None of us were having sex.”

The three of you eye each other. You’re already nodding, but Jake takes a little longer to sway.

“...Yeah,” he says finally.

Bradley lets out a breath. He knows he can’t go to his room because Jake will surely see his back sweats once he turns around and then he’ll know for sure Bradley had been lying, so he slinks over to the couch, sitting down quickly and sinking deep into the fabric. His shoulder brushes Jake’s, the two men sitting straight up on the couch, both staring at the turned off TV in front of you.

After a second, you join them—making a point to sit next to Bradley—simply turn the television on and watching whatever it turned onto without a word. It’s some Martha Stewart-esque baking show that you kind of enjoy, but the boys definitely don’t. Nobody makes a move to change it though.

The three of you don’t say a word until Mickey gets home, the grin on his face faltering when he notices the awkward air in the room.

“You guys alright?”

“Yup!” The three of you answer hastily.

You let out a slight yelp when an arm suddenly yanks you into the teachers lounge. You’re not at all surprised to find that it belongs to Reuben, who’s looking at you with a massive grin on his face and another yogurt cup in his hand. He doesn’t look the least bit sorry and you rub your sore arm with a grumble.

“What was that for?”

“They found a new fourth grade teacher,” Reuben ignores your question, genuine excitement lighting up his eyes. “And all the female teachers can’t stop talking about him. Mrs. Kerber called him ‘good enough to eat’, do you know how hot you have to be for an old lady to call you that?”

You laugh. “Honestly, I’m just glad they found a teacher in time for the school year to start.”

Reuben’s smile drops and he lets out a huff. “Girl, you are not listening!” He drags you further into the teachers lounge. “He’s hot, like, really hot. I know you have that whole thing going on with your roommate, but I am telling you, jump on that!”

“Are you crazy?” You scoff. “I don’t even know what this guy looks like.”

“But it would be so entertaining for me,” Reuben whines. “You get so nervous when you like someone and do that thing where you blink like you have something in your eye. And I’d get a front row seat to this one. Please?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I’m not going to date a colleague just because you’re bored, Reuben.”

He sighs, holding his hands up dramatically. “Alright. You can’t say I didn’t try though.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh.

Part of you is kind of curious about this insanely hot teacher. As more and more teachers filter in and out of the teachers lounge, it seems that all the whispering is about how handsome and sweet he is. You’re not even sure how they can already have this much of an impression of him. Didn’t he just start today?

Reuben keeps giving you knowing looks every time one of your coworkers squeals over the new teacher and once he even elbowed you in the ribs with a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like “jump on that”.

“Alright.” When he looks at you for the sixth time, you start moving to get up. “I’m going to my classroom if you’re gonna keep acting like this.”

Reuben moves to protest but suddenly the door to the teachers lounge opens and your attention is diverted to one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in your entire life. He’s wearing a simple button up, though it’s rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his defined—and you mean defined—forearms. His pants are just as nice and his hair is gelled to the side and you suddenly understand one of the teachers who had said she’d “give anything to mess it up”. On his nose sit an adorable pair of glasses and he’s looking through them with wide, blue eyes you could just about drown in.

“Jump on that,” Reuben hisses and then he sits up and raises his hand, saying louder, “Hey, Bob! Over here, man.”

You turn to him in panic, about ready to bolt and run, but then the new teacher is heading over to your table with a relieved expression on his face.

“Hey, Reuben, right?” He checks.

Reuben nods before introducing you. “She’s one of the coolest teachers in this joint, I can promise you that.” He adds with a knowing smile.

The new teacher chuckles, looking at you with a genuine smile and soft eyes. “I’m sure she is,” he agrees and how is his voice that hot?! And he really needs to stop looking at you like that because you’re about to ask him how he feels about fall weddings.

All you can manage in response to the whole conversation is a meek smile.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet.” He holds his hand out with a lopsided grin. “I’m Robert Floyd. But everyone just calls me Bob.”

join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

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Jake taglist:

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@kmc1989

@s-u-t

@lonelywitchv2

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#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfiction #x reader #the douche bag jar #buggy's got a pen

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nanawritesit · 4 months

Text

Twice Enemies to Lovers Imagines/ AUs

TW: making out (momo and tzuyu) corruption themes (momo) mentions of killing (sana) revolutionary themes (sana) mentions of daggers and knives (sana and dahyun) reader is kidnapped and tied up (dahyun) sharing a bed (tzuyu) partial nudity (tzuyu) neck kissing (tzuyu) light swearing

Nayeon: Former Best Friends

Your jaw hit the floor as your next applicant walked into your office for an interview. It was Im Nayeon, your high school best friend who ditched you freshman year to become a cheerleader with all the popular girls. To make matters worse, you had always secretly been in love with her. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself.

“Nice to see you again, Im.” you said flatly, flipping through her resume as she sat down in front of your desk.

She looked confused. “I’m sorry sir/ma’am, but I’m not sure what you…” You glared up at her with ice cold eyes, and suddenly she remembered. “Oh, Y/N… I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you…” she stammered meekly.

“Doesn’t surprise me. You hardly acknowledged me after you became the ‘it girl’ of our high school.” you resigned, folding your hands together on your desk. “So, what have you been up to since high school?”

She chuckled uncomfortably, eyes shifting to the ground. “Well, I was at university, but… things didn’t work out this semester.”

“So you’re looking for a job just until the end of the semester?” you asked, trying to sound as professional as possible.

“I’m not sure… But I’ll at least need a job until the end of the year. I’m living back home now.” she explained. “I need a job in the worst way, and to be honest I’m really relieved that you’re the owner of this place.”

You cleared your throat, closing up her resume and looking at her sternly. “So you think that just because you were super popular in school and I wasn’t that I’ll immediately hire you at my restaurant?”

“No, no! Not at all!” she insisted, eyes widening. “It’s just… you’re a very kind person. And you’ve always had a way of making me feel calm. I always remembered that, even if I didn’t recognize you at first.”

You winced. There she went again, making you feel special. It scared you how easily her praise still got to you.

“Oh… sorry for jumping to conclusions.” you mumbled.

“No, it’s alright…” she reassured you, seemingly okay with taking all the blame. “I’m really sorry we drifted apart. I never meant to hurt you. You were actually the person I cared about more than anything. I just thought you wouldn’t want to be friends with a cheerleader given how much we used to make fun of them.”

You glanced at the ground nervously. You were kind of a pick-me in high school. Not that it was your fault, you were just conditioned to be that way. In high school, you were either popular, or you hated everything related to being popular.

“I understand.” you told her. “It was quite a long time ago.”

“See… I’m not doing well in my classes, and my parents said I can’t move back home unless I find a job first.” she explained, eyes locking in on yours. “Please, consider me.”

Her pretty eyes were sparkling with need the way they always did, and your last reserve finally cracked at the sight of them.

“Okay, okay, the job is yours.” you told her, a reluctant smile appearing on your face.

“Really?” she asked, a huge grin breaking out on her face. “Oh, thank you so much!” She stood up to shake your hand making you laugh.

“No problem. Can you start tomorrow?” you asked, still sitting at your desk.

“Yes, I’ll be here!” she chirped, grabbing her bag. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

Once she shut the door behind her, you plopped your head down on your desk, releasing a huge sigh. “Oh, I most likely will.”

Jeongyeon: Bad First Impression

You were running horribly late for your first day on the job. You had gotten an internship at a high end company, and were expected to bring everyone coffee in the morning. So now, you were carrying a carrier full of four huge iced coffees while sprinting down the sidewalk. You could see your building in the distance, all you had to do was turn one corner and you would make it to work on time!

That was, until you actually turnt the corner and slammed straight into a girl who was walking while on her phone. All four of the iced coffees splashed between the two of you, ruining both of your outfits.

“Oh my gosh, watch where you’re going!” she screeched, wiping coffee off her face.

“Me?” you questioned, fixing your hair. “You’re the one who wasn’t looking where you were going! Maybe if you weren’t glued to your phone, we wouldn’t be covered in coffee right now!”

She scoffed. “Well maybe if you weren’t running with a carrier full of coffees…”

You both stopped what you were doing as your eyes locked in on each other. She was absolutely gorgeous, the kind that makes your heart stop beating. She seemed to be caught off guard by you as well, the two of you just staring at each other blankly for a moment.

“I’m sorry, this was totally my fault.” you chuckled, adjusting your bag. “I shouldn’t have been running down the sidewalk.”

“No, you’re right, it was stupid to be on my phone while I was walking. I’m sorry for not paying attention.” she refuted, laughing along with you. “I’m Jeongyeon, by the way.”

“Y/N.” you told her, shaking her hand. “I’m sorry I covered you in coffee. I’m just running horribly late for my first day on the job…” you sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Although I’m sure I can kiss it goodbye now, as I’m either going to show up soaked in coffee or an hour late.”

“I’m really sorry about that…” she said sympathetically. “Where’s the job?”

“Right behind us, actually.” you laughed, gesturing behind you.

“Oh my gosh, I work here!” she told you exasperatedly. “In the administrative department!”

“That’s where I’m interning!” you gasped, a hopeful smile making its way onto your face.

“This is perfect. I’ll just call the office and say that someone ran into the two of us while we were walking in, and that we had to go change clothes.” she suggested.

“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver!” you sighed in relief, placing a hand affectionately on her arm. “Are you sure they’ll accept that as an excuse though?”

“Oh please, everyone here loves me. My word is law.” she giggled, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Now, let’s go get you some fresh clothes and new coffees, okay? I’ll even buy my own, since I’m pretty sure one of them was.”

You laughed along with her, letting her lead you down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Somehow, you had made an enemy, ally, and crush all in the same day. Lord help you in navigating this relationship.

Momo: Angel/ Demon AU

You bit your tongue in anger. Things were not going well with your latest assignment. You were trying to be a guardian angel to a certain human to improve their life. However, this human also happened to be under the influence of a demon. Not only a demon, but one of the most powerful demonesses in your department. Momo Hirai.

“Something wrong, angel?” a sultry voice asked. You whipped around to see her standing at the entryway of your human’s living room. You could see them, but they couldn’t see you. She was absolutely captivating, with her dark hair, ruby red lips, and tight black dress.

Remembering yourself, you looked away. “As a matter of fact, yes. You are.” you spat, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Oh, I didn’t know you thought about me so much.” she grinned, stepping closer to you. “I wonder what twisted little fantasies are running through that pretty little head.”

“You wish.” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “I happen to be a being of purity.

“How boring…” Momo sighed, stopping in front of you, who was leaned against the wall. “I figured someone like you would feel really repressed. Nothing causes the mind to wander more than being cooped up with a bunch of puritans.”

You swallowed hard. How had she known that you’d been having sinful thoughts lately? You wondered if she also knew that she was the subject of some of them.

Deciding you had to stand your ground, you held your head up high. “It’d be none of your business if I did.”

“Oh, I know…” she glanced down at your lips momentarily, then met your eyes once more. “I just can’t help myself. Seeing you, who’s so bright and clean… it makes me think about how much I’d like to corrupt you.”

Your heart stopped. Every part of your brain was screaming at you to resist her.

“L-like how?” You could barely control the words coming out of your mouth.

She grinned a sinister smile, brushing some of your hair behind your shoulder and playing with it. “Well, for starters, I could run my fingers through this pretty hair…”

Your eyes squinted shut at the feeling of her doing so, hating how good it felt.

“I could gaze into these sparkling doe eyes…” she purred, tilting your chin up to look her in the eye. Her own dark eyes were locked in on yours, pupils dilated but squinted slightly like a siren’s.

You allowed her to push you further against the wall, showing absolutely no sign of displeasure at her actions. “Then what?” you whispered.

“Then… I could kiss these beautiful, delicious lips…” Momo finally leaned down and connected her lips with yours, pressing her body up against yours with a fiery passion.

You moved your arms up around her waist, hands gripping onto her for dear life. The pleasure was so great, you almost forgot why you vowed to resist temptation in the first place.

Her hands snaked up into your hair, tugging slightly and making you whimper into her mouth. You could feel her smirk at this, and with the knowledge that you were enjoying yourself, she slipped her tongue into your mouth, letting it explore slightly before pulling away.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” you muttered breathlessly, forehead still pressed against hers. “Both of us could get fired if anyone found out about this.” Demons and angels were not allowed to have relationships. “Besides, how do I know you’re not just using me to win over my human?”

“You can have the human.” she told you without hesitation. “I don’t need them. Right now, I only want you.”

You looked at her closely, studying her expression for any sign of dishonesty. If this was a trick, or one of her lustful schemes, she wouldn’t have been so upfront about it. She would’ve been sneakier.

“I want you too, Momo…” you sighed, crashing your lips into hers once again.

Maybe you would lose your angel status for this, but you knew that no amount of purity would ever feel as good as Momo on your lips would.

Sana: Royal/ Assassin AU

You grunted as you scaled the wall of the castle with a dagger in each hand. One of them would momentarily be used to kill the princess in her sleep. You winced as you thought about what you had to do, feeling your stomach turn.

You were a member of a rebel legion who was planning on overthrowing the palace during a coup. While you weren’t too thrilled about having to kill anyone, you believed the king and queen deserved it. They were incessantly cruel to their subjects, denying them any assistance and punishing them when they took matters into their own hands. Your people were dying of starvation while they were having extravagant parties, and something had to be done about it.

There really was no reason to kill the princess other than your leader feared it would be unwise to leave the only rightful heir to the throne alive. You didn’t think it was right, but the suffering you and your people endured overcame that.

As you reached Princess Sana’s bedroom window, you carefully crept inside and over to her canopy bed. As the moonlight graced her features, your breath hitched in your throat. She looked so peaceful, so content… not to mention, she was positively breathtaking.

You sighed defeatedly, realizing you couldn’t possibly harm this innocent girl. You stepped back and dropped your daggers on the floor, startling her awake.

“Hm? What’s going on? Who are you?” she asked, clutching her blankets to her chest in fear.

“Sh, it’s okay. I’m here to help.” you tried to reassure her. “There’s a rebel legion that’s going to assassinate the king and queen momentarily, and they want to kill you too. If you want to live, you’ll have to escape with me right now.”

She gasped, throwing her blankets off of her. She looked so adorable in her long white nightgown and pink hair bow. “Oh my, let’s go then!”

You grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway and out through the back of the palace. You knew your legion would only be using the front entrance.

The two of you ran off into the night, ducking into a nearby forest for protection. Luckily it was a warm summer night, and the weather was mild.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” you finally spoke as you both caught your breath. It hadn’t dawned on you that Sana might not take the news of her parents assassination very well until just now.

“It’s alright. To be honest, I’ve always hated them. I was hoping to become a better leader than them one day, but they were only interested in marrying me off to a nearby kingdom. I’m just glad the kingdom will be heading in a better direction.” She sat down by the riverbed, taking her hair out of its bow and letting it fall over her shoulders in loose waves. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“I don’t deserve any thanks.” you sighed, sitting down next to her. “I was the one who was supposed to kill you.”

She gave you an unfazed expression. “Well, you didn’t. And I never really liked being a princess anyway. I’ve always craved a life of adventure.”

“Well, you’re certainly going to get it.” you chuckled, stretching out to lay down in the grass. “We’re going to have to flee the kingdom, or at least go to the countryside. They’re going to wonder where the lost princess is, and why she wasn’t executed.”

She laid down next to you, curling into your side. “But… you’ll protect me right?” Her eyes were so big and twinkling with innocence. She looked as if she would shatter into a million pieces without you.

“Why do you trust me so easily?” you asked her genuinely. Any other princess wouldn’t have even believed you, let alone followed you into the woods.

She smiled cutely, brushing some of your hair back. “I had a dream once that someone came into my room and saved me from being a princess.” She traced your features with your finger. “They looked just like you.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape. You were never one to believe in fate or destiny, but this girl was making you second guess yourself.

“Now, are you going to take care of me?” she asked again.

“Of course I will.” you told her, running a hand through her long hair. “Now, let’s get some sleep. I’ll find us some breakfast in the morning.”

Jihyo: Idol Rivalry

Park Jihyo was the bane of your existence. The two of you had hated each other for years, and for good reason. For one, you were both under different companies that constantly compared artists with each other. Two, both of your groups debuted around the same time, and since then it felt like every time your group got a moment in the spotlight, Twice would come along and upstage you. And three, you were both leaders, so everyone expected you to get along due to your similar roles. However, all that meant was that you were both extra protective of your groups, and even more hostile when someone threatened their success.

Today, however, your rivalry was coming to an eruption as both of your groups were performing at the MAMA awards. Luckily, they were spaced apart enough to where it wouldn’t look like one of you was the opening act for the other. Both of your groups put their absolute all into the performances, and everyone agreed that you both owned the award show.

Your members somehow all got along. It was just you and Jihyo that couldn’t seem to find a common ground.

You were thinking this over as you walked up to her dressing room after the show. You decided it was time to be a grown up and hash things out with her. You took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” she chirped from behind the door. You walked in, seeing her at her vanity, still in her stage outfit. You lost the plot for a bit as you took in her features. Her beautiful skin, her pretty eyes, her perfect smile… wait, when did she get so gorgeous?

“Oh… hi Y/N.” she interrupted your thoughts with genuine surprise. “What are you doing here?”

You shut the door behind you and walked up to her. “I’ve come with an olive branch.” you began in a serious tone.

She glanced behind you, furrowing her brows. “Really? I don’t see one.”

You bit your tongue to keep from laughing. Damn, she was funny, but you were trying to have a serious moment!

“A metaphorical olive branch.” you sighed, pretending to be annoyed to save face. “We’ve been fighting for years because of stupid reasons. I think it’s time we sort out our differences.”

She smiled warmly, inviting you to sit down on her sofa. “So, what exactly are our differences?” she asked, starting to remove her makeup.

“Well for starters, you guys have always overshadowed us.” you told her. “Every time we’d start getting attention, you guys would immediately do something even better, and then it was all anyone could talk about. I guess I was sick of the company always telling us how much better you guys are.”

She paused, making eye contact with you in her mirror. “Are you serious?”

You nodded. What did she mean ‘are you serious,’ of course you were serious! It wasn’t that hard to comprehend.

“Oh my god, that’s so funny…” she laughed out loud, shaking her head. She spun around in her chair to face you. “Y/N, ever since we debuted, all our company does is compare us to you.”

“You’re kidding…” you marveled, eyes widening in shock.

“No, I’m serious! I especially get compared to you a lot. You’re super mature and have killer visuals, not to mention you’re one of the best dancers in the industry.” she praised, leaning back in her chair slightly.

“Oh please, I would commit arson to have your vocal skills! You light up a whole stadium with them!” you told her enthusiastically. “You’re so bright and energetic, and you’re absolutely stunning. I mean, who wouldn’t hate you?” you joked, slapping her on the knee playfully.

The two of you laughed for a moment, then sat in a comfortable silence. It was probably the most pleasant interaction you’d ever had.

“Did we just compliment each other?” she asked suddenly, cocking her head to the side.

You shrugged. “I guess so. Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

She smiled affectionately, moving to sit next to you on the sofa. “I actually think I quite like you now.”

The way she was looking at you made you feel butterflies. You didn’t know if you were seeing things or what, but she looked as if she was absolutely captivated by you.

You shrugged cheekily, a sly smirk making its way onto your face. “I kind of like you too. See you around?”

She nodded enthusiastically, a hopeful glint in her eyes. With that, you turned and exited her dressing room, pressing your hands to your warm cheeks.

How did that just happen?

Mina: Fake Dating

“I can’t believe they actually fell for it!” Mina marveled as you both exited the party into the cool night air.

“I know right! Like, are they really that stupid?” you laughed, leading her back to your car.

You wondered how everyone had set aside all their memories of you two absolutely hating each other when you walked into the party holding onto her waist. Anyone with eyes could see that you and Mina despised each other before. You guessed that the two of you were just really good at acting.

What led to your truce was that both of your crushes weren’t paying any attention to either of you. You were trying to win back your ex, whereas Mina’s crush had totally friend-zoned her. So, you came to an agreement that you would pretend to date each other in order to hopefully make your crushes jealous.

You were worried that it was going to be hard to sell your affections for Mina, but it turned out to be surprisingly easy. From spending time with her, you were able to see that she was actually really funny, incredibly bright, and sensitive. Not to mention, she was a perfect ten. That was part of the reason you hated her so much.

As you drove off to drop Mina off at her house, you kept glancing over at her with an amused smile.

“What?” she asked, giggling slightly.

“Nothing, it’s just… you’re so different from what I thought you were.” you answered, eyes focusing back on the road.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she interrogated you, crossing her arms with a smirk.

“Well, to be honest, I thought you were incredibly stuck-up. I mean, you hardly paid any attention to me, and whenever you did, it was to disagree with something I said.” you chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that…” she apologized, shifting her body to face you more. “I have a tendency to close myself off when I find someone intimidating.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Intimidating? How could you find me intimidating?”

“Oh come on, Y/N!” she rolled her eyes, hitting your arm lightly. “You’re like the coolest person ever! When you talk, everyone pays attention to you. It makes me so jealous the way you command a room.”

You shook your head in amazement. “I had no idea you felt that way…”

“Yeah well, I do.” she laughed. She ran a hand through her hair as if to calm herself down.

The two of you enjoyed a comfortable silence for a moment until you spoke again. “You did a really good job today.”

“Thanks, so did you.” she complimented you, nudging you slightly.

“I’m sure your crush is still thinking about how good we looked together.” you pointed out.

“Oh yeah, them…” she resigned, looking out the window absentmindedly. “Well, I’m sure your ex felt the same way.”

You glanced over at her. Why did she seem to shut down when you brought up your love interests? Isn’t that what she had wanted out of this?

“Well, there you are ma’am.” you announced as you pulled into her driveway.

She snapped out of her daze and grabbed her purse, turning to you with a smile. “Thanks again, Y/N. You make a wonderful fake partner.” Suddenly, she leaned forward and planted a brisk kiss on your cheek. You looked at her in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just practicing. You know, for the next time we see them.”

“Oh, r-right…” you stammered, shifting anxiously in your seat. “Well, see you later!”

“Bye bye!” she waved, cutely scampering away into her house.

You sighed, slamming your head against the steering wheel. Suddenly, a relationship with Mina was sounding a lot better than getting back with your ex. Why did you think this was a good idea again?

Dahyun: Hero/ Villain AU

You struggled against your restraints, rocking the chair you were tied to back and forth. You were previously on a mission from the hero agency to retrieve a stolen artifact from a well-known villain, but something had went wrong, and they ended up capturing you. Now, you were tied up and didn’t know what awaited you.

You screeched into the cloth around your mouth in frustration, feeling hot tears prick at your eyes as you realized there was no way to get out of these ropes. Damn it all. Was this going to be how you were going to be taken down?

Suddenly, you heard a rustling coming from the window in the corner of the room. You furrowed your brow in confusion, until it opened and in tumbled Kim Dahyun, your arch-nemesis.

“Dahyun? What are you doing here?” you asked, although it just sounded like a bunch of muffled syllables to her.

“Sh, I’m here to get you out of here.” she instructed you. She then came over to undo the cloth around your mouth and slice through your ropes with her knife.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked, massaging your wrists from their rope burn.

“Because, you’re my enemy.” she smirked, crawling back through the window she had previously entered in. “If anyone’s going to take you down, it’s going to be me.”

You scoffed with a smile, getting up to follow her. “I won’t go down so easily.”

“Oh I know. I’m looking forward to it.” she cockily winked. “Now, are you coming or not?” She extended her hand to you, face illuminated by the soft candlelight of the room. God, she was devastatingly beautiful. Perhaps in another universe, the two of you would’ve made a great couple.

You brushed the thoughts away, knowing they could only lead to heartache, and instead just took her hand and fled with her by your side. Maybe you didn’t need a relationship with her. This game of cat and mouse was too damn fun anyway.

Chaeyoung: Forced to Hang Out by Mutual Friends

You walked into the restaurant, face twisting into a scowl as you realized only one person was at your table: Son Chaeyoung, whom you could not stand. However, you had to get along with her because she was a part of your friend group. You knew she didn’t really care for you either, but also agreed to keep the peace for the sake of your mutual friends.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, then walked over to the table to sit across from her. “Hi Chaeyoung.” you said, flatly but still politely.

She looked up from her phone and cracked a forced smile. “Hey there, Y/N.”

“I wonder why everyone’s so late.” you commented, trying to make small talk.

“I’m not sure.” she replied. The two of you shared an awkward silence, save for your repetitive tapping on the table. After a while she coughed uncomfortably.

“Hi there! Are you two here for the couple’s special?” the waitress suddenly asked as she arrived at your table.

You both looked at each other horrified. “No, we’re definitely not a couple…” you insisted.

“Yeah we’re just waiting for some of our friends.” Chaeyoung explained to her, chuckling nervously.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” the waitress apologized. “I’ll come back in a few minutes, okay?” You both nodded, and she scurried off to the other end of the restaurant. Wow… you thought, the two of you were so uncomfortable it was spreading to other people.

“I’ll text them and see what’s keeping them.” Chaeyoung announced, picking her phone back up. However, her eyes widened as soon as she looked at the screen. “Apparently Rosè is sick.”

“Really? That’s odd. She seemed fine yesterday…” you replied, grabbing your own phone. You too already received a text, but from Yeoreum.

yeoreum 🌻: “hey, sorry to cancel last minute, but i forgot i have a doctors’ appointment :( say hi to the girls for me!”

You sighed, setting your phone back down. “Well, Yeoreum bailed too.”

“Are you serious?” Chaeyoung asked. “Well, at least there’s…” However she never got to finish her sentence, because both of your phones rang at the same exact time. You were getting a call from Somi, and she was getting a call from Jinsol. You both snatched up your phones again and slammed the answer button.

“Hey Y/N!” Somi chirped on the other end of the line. “I gotta cancel today. Forgot I already made plans with my sister!”

“No, Somi please-“

“Have fun! Give my love to the girls!” she responded, hanging up.

You squinted your eyes shut and sighed, setting your phone down to see Chaeyoung doing the exact same. “Jinsol too?”

“Yep.” she nodded. “Something about a family reunion.”

It was obvious that all your friends had planned this in an effort to get you and Chaeyoung to spend time with each other and hopefully sort out your differences. However, right now that seemed like a lost cause, as both of you were consumed with irritation and discomfort at the situation.

“Great…” you grumbled, putting your head in your hands. “Guess we’re stuck with each other.”

“I don’t get what your problem is with me.” she snapped, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Me? You’re the one with the problem!” you responded defensively. “You’ve always hated me for no reason. I can see it in the way you talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” she replied angrily, furrowing her brow in frustration. “I was just upset with you because you threw that huge party a year ago and invited everybody but me! I had to hear about it from Bangchan of all people!”

Your jaw unhinged in disbelief. You had totally forgotten about that event, and how you never invited Chaeyoung. To tell the truth, you couldn’t even remember why you didn’t invite her in the first place.

“I didn’t know it bothered you so much…” you marveled, leaning back in your chair as if backing down from your anger. “I guess… maybe I assumed you wouldn’t want to go? You don’t really seem like the type to enjoy a huge party.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have want to be invited.” she retorted, glancing down at the table nervously.

You blinked, straightening yourself up. “You’re right. That was really rude of me. I’m sorry I didn’t invite you.”

She smiled genuinely for the first time since you had known her. “I appreciate that.”

“If I have another party and invite you, will you stop hating me?” you chuckled.

“I wouldn’t say I hated you…” she replied, softening even more. “There were still things I really liked about you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you asked, trying not to be too enthusiastic with your curiosity.

“You have a really pretty smile, you’re super passionate about what you do, you’re really sharp and witty…” she listed out with a bright grin. “You’re really cool. I guess that’s why I was so mad you didn’t invite me.”

“I understand why you were mad, and I’m sorry again.” you replied, looking at her sympathetically. “But it didn’t come from a place of malice. I actually think you’re really cool.”

“You do?” she inquired perplexedly.

“Of course I do! You always make everyone laugh, you’re super nice to everybody… and you’ve got a really cute face.”

She grinned, and you swore you saw her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “You think I’m cute?”

Now it was your turn to blush. You cleared your throat, then glanced away with shifty eyes. “I mean, like objectively. You have bright eyes or whatever.”

She giggled quietly to herself, then as soon as your eyes were focused back on her, she spoke again. “I think you’re pretty cute too.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept it’s way up your expression, looking away again bashfully.

“Do we still need a few more minutes?” the waitress asked, suddenly appearing again.

“Nope, I think we’re ready.” you replied, glad to be changing the subject. “I guess we will take that couple’s special since it’ll just be the two of us.”

“Oh, well it’s actually only for real couples…” the waitress told you sympathetically.

“What if this was our first date?” Chaeyoung asked her. Your eyes widened as you whipped your head around to look at her. She was just looking at the waitress with a confident grin. You had never seen her so bold, and you had to admit, it was really attractive. You were starting to kick yourself for messing things up with her in the past. You could’ve been around her best self this whole time… well, at least you were seeing it now. And you couldn’t get enough of it. You loved the excitement about where things were going with her.

Tzuyu: Only One Bed

You frowned as you realized who had just walked into your hotel room. “What are you doing here Tzuyu?”

“Believe me, this wasn’t my choice.” she groaned, shoving the door shut behind her. “Apparently the hotel booked up their last room by accident. And since you’re the only one who doesn’t have a roommate yet, I’m going to have to room with you.”

“Are you serious?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. “Aren’t there any other hotels in the area?”

“I went all around the neighborhood looking for one. Why do you think I’m soaked? It’s pouring down rain right now.” she complained. “They’re all booked up too.”

You took in her appearance. “Where’s your suitcase?”

“Airport lost it.” she replied, an angry sarcastic smile on her face. “This is a really great vacation so far. None of my things, and I’m stuck with you.”

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly thrilled about this either.” you sneered, shuffling your way out of bed. “Here, you can have one of my big shirts.”

She looked amazed. “Wait, are you actually being nice to me?”

You glared at her. “I may not like you very much, but I’m not heartless. Now go change.” You threw the shirt at her and got back into bed. You thought you caught a glimpse of a smirk on her face, but she turned the corner to the bathroom so fast you couldn’t be sure.

You got settled in bed again, then stared up at the ceiling. You were currently on a group vacation with all of your friends. Well, Tzuyu wasn’t your friend, but she had come along because she was close with some of your friends. You did kind of feel sorry for her… it had to suck losing all of your things. You shook your head. There was no need to feel sympathy for her when she had never made any effort to be nice to you. However, your thoughts were interrupted as she re-emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but your shirt. Your heart stopped. She looked really cute, with her wet hair and bare legs.

She chuckled cockily. “Like what you see?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” you scoffed, rolling over in resignation.

She laughed at you again, walking over to the other side of the bed and crawling in. “Try to control yourself Y/N, we’ll both need some sleep for all the stuff they have planned tomorrow.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” you laughed, curling up in displeasure. “Rosè and Chaeyoung were way too excited about going downtown.”

“I know right? Like, how many shops can you go to before you get bored?” Tzuyu joked, making you laugh even harder. “And Elkie and Shuhua want to go to that museum…”

“Oh my god, what a snooze-fest.” you rolled your eyes, making her cackle even louder. You started chuckling again too, and soon you were both consumed with laughter.

“Do you realize this is the first time we’ve had a conversation without arguing?” you asked, leaning over to face her with an amused smile.

“Yeah… it was pretty nice.” she responded, looking at you and resting her head against the pillow. You both just stared at each other affectionately for a moment, taking in each others’ features. “Well, I guess we should go to sleep.”

“Yeah…” you agreed, moving to turn off the lamp. “Goodnight Tzuyu.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You lied awake for a moment, glancing over at her every so often. You couldn’t help the giddy, flustered feeling that crept up in your chest. You never knew Tzuyu could be so pleasant, and you were excited you got to share a room with her for the rest of the vacation. And you were even more excited to share a bed with her. Your mind started to wander about holding her, touching her, kissing her…

You shook your head, shuffling a bit. You couldn’t think these things while she was asleep next to you. Unless… maybe she was thinking them too?”

“Y/N?” she suddenly asked, rolling over to face you.

Your heart stopped. Holy shit, was she reading my mind?

“Yeah?” you asked, mirroring her actions.

You both stared at each other in desperation for a while, until she dove forward and kissed you passionately. You were taken aback for a second, but soon brought your hands up around her neck. She shifted to straddle you, kissing you more intensely. She pulled away for a breather just as your hands were going up into her hair.

“I hate you.” she smirked evilly, gasping for air.

“I despise you.” you retaliated, yanking her hair slightly and making her whimper a bit. You used her moment of weakness as an opportunity and pushed her over to straddle her. You began kissing her again, then moved down to nip at her neck and chest. “Let me show you just how much I do.”

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mavrintarou · 11 months

Text

[1:05 AM] Kita Shinsuke

It's literally 1 AM and I need to share this sweet Kita that I've been hogging all to myself. He's just... something else. Lol. I write a lot about Suna and Sakusa but Kita definitely holds a special spot in my heart... or elsewhere.

Warning: fluff, angst (nothing between Shinsuke x Y/n), and explicit smut. Note: it is long - I don't think you guys ever complained, but I wanted to warn you guys regardless. .

Kita Shinsuke gently caressed his wife’s pregnant belly. Then, as she slept, a soft moan escaped her lips, and she nestled closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

A few months ago, when he met his son’s first-grade substitute teacher, Shinsuke couldn’t have imagined that he would feel a longing for another woman. Since his wife tragically passed away in a car accident, Shinsuke found himself single-handedly raising their two-year-old son with the support of his grandmother.

“Dad, we have a new teacher since Mrs. Fukada is home with her new baby.” Shinnosuke announced excitedly, “She has a new baby girl…” he paused, locking eyes with his dad, his gaze filled with longing. “Can I have a baby sister too?”

Great-grandma Shin giggled, patting the little boy’s head. “I wish for a baby sister for you, too, Nosuke.”

Shinsuke sighs softly, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once night falls, Shinsuke gently places a steaming cup of tea before his grandmother, commencing their cherished nightly tea ritual. They found solace on the patio, engaging in their nightly heartfelt conversations.

“It is time you find a partner.”

Although he had anticipated this conversation would arise at some point, he found himself partially surprised by its timing, catching him off guard.

“Your boy needs a mother. I can only do so much. You need someone, and you should give him more siblings.”

It was always Shinsuke’s dream to have a big family. Moreover, he and Shinnosuke’s mother dreamed of more children after his birth.

“I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready.” Even though it’s been a few years since her tragic death, he still loved her dearly.

“I know you will never be ready, but you can try.”

The following day he had promised to take his son to school to meet his new teacher, who, Shinnosuke promised, is very pretty.

“She doesn’t have a ring on her finger, dad.” Shinsuke suppressed his laugh, unsure where his son was going with the conversation. “Maybe she isn’t married yet, and you can marry her?”

“Son, that’s now how it works – “

“Hi, Shinnosuke. Is this your dad?”

The last time Shinsuke was ever starstruck was with his late wife.

Shinnosuke tugged his dad’s hand and spoke excitedly, “Dad! This is Ms. Y/n – my new teacher! Isn’t she pretty.”

True to his son’s words, she is pretty.

Gorgeous if Shinsuke was being honest.

He felt hot all suddenly.

“Hello,” he greeted, praying his face was not tomato-red. “I am Shinnosuke’s father, and I hope he has not been a handful.”

Her smile radiated warmth, captivating Shinsuke’s gaze.

As she stepped closer, a gentle fragrance of sweet perfume reached his nose. “Not at all,” she replied, her voice carrying a touch of admiration. “You have a remarkably well-behaved and intelligent son.” She affectionately tousled Shinnosuke’s hair, and he leaned into her touch like an adoring puppy.

Shinsuke longed for her hand to pat his head at that moment too.

Shinsuke attempted to keep his distance from Ms. Y/n. Instead, he would merely drop off his son outside of school, making arrangements to pick him up at the gates if he could, all to resist the overwhelming desire to do anything but kiss Ms. Y/n passionately until all his desires were fulfilled.

He could not give in to temptation.

But Shinsuke ran into Ms. Y/n everywhere.

At the grocery store.

At the salon.

At the clinic.

Complicating matters further, his son held a deep affection for her and frequently spoke about her with admiration.

His last hope for maintaining his distance and preserving his sanity unraveled when circumstances forced him to accompany his grandmother to the hospital due to a precautionary overnight admission for a cold. This left his son alone at home, intensifying his concerns.

“If you don’t mind, Kita-san, Shinnosuke can stay with me until great-grandma is released.” A look of surprise filled his eyes as he absorbed her thoughtful suggestion. Shinsuke was overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of managing his rice field, tending the crops, and caring for his grandmother; he struggled to ensure his son was never left alone at home.

Despite his gratitude towards her, he hesitated momentarily. However, when he glanced down at his son, whose eyes sparkled with anticipation, he couldn’t resist. “Please, dad?” his son pleaded, his excitement palpable.

Shinsuke sighed before agreeing; he crouched down, “You must listen to Ms. Y/n and behave.”

“Yes, dad.”

Shinnosuke was smitten by Ms. Y/n.

When Shinsuke arrived to pick up his son, he felt a pang of disappointment upon seeing his dad waiting at the door. “Do we have to go home, dad?” his son pleaded, his eyes longing. “Can’t we stay here with Ms. Y/n?”

“Shinnosuke,” Shinsuke called out his son’s name, his tone laced with a warning, the kind used when it was necessary to reestablish authority. Upon hearing his dad’s voice, his son’s shoulders slumped, and he turned away to retrieve his belongings. “Sorry,” Shinsuke apologized quietly, blushing under Y/n’s gaze.

“Don’t be. He is still young and doesn’t know any better.”

Shinsuke couldn’t help but observe her casual attire, with sweatpants and a loose shirt. “Regardless of that, he was being rude, and I need to have a conversation with him,” he stated, taking a deep breath. “thank you. I am truly grateful for your understanding and for looking after him. I can’t express my gratitude enough.”

“He was very helpful, I made him help me with chores, and we cooked together, so it wasn’t quite a vacation for him.”

Shinsuke’s throat tightened as he struggled to find his words. Nervousness consumed him to the core. “I…” he stammered, his voice quivering, “may I… may I take you out? It’s just my way of saying thank you.” As he uttered the question, her eyes bore into his soul, intensifying his anxiety. In that moment, panic surged through him as if he had ventured beyond the acceptable boundaries. “Please,” he hastily added, fearing she might feel obligated, “don’t feel obligated – “

“How about a date?” She interjected, catching him off guard. His eyes widened in surprise as her words sank in. “Take me out on a date,” she added, her tone laced with anticipation.

Nervousness consumed him throughout the date, hindering his ability to relax and enjoy the date fully. However, a wave of relief washed over him when Y/n reached across the table and gently touched his hand, reassuring him with a playful remark, “relax, I won’t bite.”

He wanted nothing but her to bite him because he only wanted to devour her.

They had dinner and walked along the river, getting snacks.

As they conversed about their lives and aspirations, Shinsuke watched her gracefully twirl and walked along the ledge, seemingly at ease.

Her warmth and vibrant personality enveloped him, and with each passing moment, he found himself falling deeper in love with her. Finally, stepping up beside her, he extended his hand, inviting her to grasp it as they walked along the ledge together.

“Kita-san,” she called softly, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. Concern etched across her face as she gazed into his eyes. “Is something troubling you?”

Y/n towered over him, her height surpassing his by two heads, causing him to tilt his gaze upward to meet her eyes.

Throughout his life, he had always been forthright with others, never shying away from expressing himself. However, he faced a challenging dilemma in this particular moment: between maintaining his hidden emotions or finally revealing everything. The decision weighed heavily on his mind, causing a moment of uncertainty.

He let out a sigh, realizing that he had nothing left to lose except for her. However, he knew deep down within himself that everything he had been feeling up to now surely meant something. He couldn’t possibly be the only one feeling this way. He had to be honest with her. It was a necessity, a longing that couldn’t be ignored.

“I really like you.” He responded in a hushed tone. “You’re a young single woman while I’m a single parent dad with a six-year-old son,” he began, acknowledging the difference in their life stages. “Yet, despite that, I haven’t felt this certain about anything in a long time. He found out tonight that he was seven years older than her.

“I must confess, Ms. Y/n, that I am undeniably attracted to you,” he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I apologize if my previous actions seemed rude, but I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance from you, to suppress these feelings I have for you.” He paused, carefully considering his words. “I don’t want to presume that you share the same sentiment, but every gesture, every glance, every smile you give me, they only deepen my desire for you.” A small smile curve his lips, “I can’t help but want more and more.”

A weighty silence hung in the air, the only sound being the gentle rustling of Y/n’s hair dancing in the wind. She fixed her gaze upon him, eyes locked in a wordless exchange.

“You have so many options, while I… I am limited,” he admitted with a hint of vulnerability. He paused, reflecting on the conversation they had just shared. “Listening to you speak of your goals just now; made me realize that perhaps we might be on different pages.” A furrow formed between his brows as he held her gaze, trying to discern her thoughts within her silence. “I might be over my head saying this, but I want to be upfront with you.” He exhales softly, “if Shinnosuke and I aren’t long-term possibilities for you… please tell me now so I can release you from any obligations.”

She playfully waved her fingers, beckoning him to come closer. As soon as he was within reach, she lightly flicked his forehead, a mischievous smile on her face. “You’re so mean to doubt my sincerity,” she teased, leaning to kiss the spot she flicked. “I wouldn’t be right here with you if I didn’t have deep feelings for you, too, Shinsuke.”

Hearing his full name uttered by her made his heart skip a beat.

He stares at her, looking at her longingly until she reciprocates the words, “I like you. I really like you too.” He releases his breath; he cannot contain the smile on his face. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered, leaning closer to him already.

“Please,” he begged.

Still leaning over the ledge, she brushed her lips against his before moving her mouth into a deep kiss.

She was the first to pull away, inhaling to catch her breath.

Shinsuke’s face turns a shade of pink, feeling lightheaded and on cloud nine.

Y/n stepped down from the ledge, and Shinsuke made a move to take her hand again, this time intertwining their fingers.

“Shinsuke, I might be bold asking you this on our first date, but… do you want more kids?”

Her question caught him off guard, but he quickly answered, “of course I do. Do you want children?”

She glanced at him, a smile on her lips, and she nodded. “I do.”

He smirked, “how many?”

“Maybe… two or however many…” she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, “my future husband wants.”

Shinsuke was flustered by this woman, arousing him in all ways.

Glancing at his watch, Shinsuke couldn’t help but wish that the night could stretch on indefinitely. However, he also wanted to be a gentleman and ensure she arrived home before 10 PM.

She was about to keep walking down the path when he halted her. “Y/n,” he called her name softly, “I don’t – I don’t want the night to end, but I want to be a gentleman and bring you home….”

“Then don’t…”

His brow raised at her question, “what?”

She stepped forward, staring at him, “don’t be a gentleman then.”

He let out a low groan, his throat constricting as he struggled to suppress the lump forming within. “Please… stop,” he managed to choke out.

She closed the distance between them, eliminating any space that could fit even a piece of paper. Her large, doe-like eyes locked onto his, causing his knees to weaken and his palms to grow sweaty, and cock to expand excitedly inside his trousers. Finally, she whispered, “what do you want, Shinsuke?”

They barely made it through her apartment doors when he pulled and tugged her clothes off.

“Bedroom,” he growled against her mouth, “please,” he begged seconds later. Trails of clothes led to her bedroom; he could barely spare a second to break away from her lips to pull his shirt over his head.

Her blouse and skirt were discarded by her ankle, and he pulled away to admire her. He reaches behind, unclasping the clips to her bra and letting it slide off her body. Then, with her white panties left, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. Then, he locked his gaze with her, searching for a reflection of the fiery, passionate emotions that consumed him.

He doesn’t realize he has been biting his lower lip until she reaches up to tug it free. “Shin…” She guides his right hand to her breast, and his large rough hands instantly palm the mound, kneading the soft tissue, earning himself a soft moan from her. “More,” she begged, pressing the other hand to the other side. “Touch me, please.”

Shinsuke kisses her hungrily while his hands massage, squeeze, and flicker the hardened nubs. Her tongue meets his eagerly, dancing and swirling with his.

He pulls away to tug his belt, undoing the buttons before letting his trousers drop to his ankles. Even in the dim light in her room, he could see the damp, dark spot where his cock was leaking.

She drops onto her knee before him, and his eyes widen before he can stop her; she pulls the waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock. She was mesmerized by how thick his girth and heavy his sacks hung.

It had been a long time for Shinsuke and having Y/n’s fixed gaze on him only excited him more.

“Y/n…” he breathed; whatever else he had to say went down the gutter as her lips enclosed around the thick bulbous head. He lets out several foul words as she takes as much of his cock into her mouth, her jaw expanding to fit the width of his cock.

Y/n slurped and suckled to the point that Shinsuke felt he would embarrass himself soon if he didn’t stop her.

She pulled back but not releasing him when he gripped her hallow cheeks gently, “enough… or else I won’t last.” He steps back, freeing his cock from her lips with a pop. “Please stand.”

She did, and it was his turn to get down on her knee to pull her remaining piece of clothing down her legs. He looks up at her with a soft smile, “please take a seat on your bed.” She follows his command, and he spreads her legs and swoops in between, licking along her slit to her small, hidden nub.

Shinsuke slips a finger inside her, slowly thrusting before adding two additional fingers. He wanted to stretch her out; he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable when he replaced his fingers with his cock.

He had always perceived himself to have an average-size physique down there until one day, his under-classmate, Miya Atsumu, announced it loud in clear to the entire volleyball team in the locker room.

“Holy shit, Kita-senpai!”

Shinsuke had left his towel on the bench by his locker and had no choice but to return after a quick rinse completely naked. Everyone was getting dressed and didn’t bother paying attention to him until Atsumu casually glanced over and then had to double look, eyes bulging as he stared at Shinsuke’s private area.

And like boys, they all compared their sizes amongst each other.

That day, Kita Shinsuke was not only the captain of the boys’ volleyball team but also the thickest down there.

“Shin,” Y/n whispered, “you… I want you.”

He sat up, fingers still buried and working within her as he leaned over and kissed her. “Need to prep you – I don’t want to hurt you.”

She reached for his cock; her small hand felt good around it; he couldn’t wait to feel what her walls felt like. “You won’t hurt me… I can take it…”

The innocent teacher he was smitten by is replaced by a teasing minx. “You sure?” He teased, “what if you cannot walk tomorrow?”

Her grip squeezed around his cock, “thank goodness tomorrow is the weekend then?” she leaned to peck his chin, “Shinsuke, fuck me, fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow….”

A low grumble escaped his throat before she was shifted onto the middle of the bed, he paused, and she sensed hesitancy. “I… don’t have a condom.”

“I don’t either.”

Shinsuke groaned as she unconsciously bit her lower lip. “I can pull out; do you trust me?”

She locked eyes with him, her gaze unwavering. “Shinsuke, if I didn’t trust you completely, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He chuckled and kissed her quickly, “stop making me fall for you.” He whispered that and impaled her in a swift thrust. His forehead pressed against hers as neither could speak but only feel one other. He gave her a second to adjust and accommodate his size before she gave him the silent green light.

He gave light shallow thrusts until the pained expression became a pleasant expression.

Shinsuke needed to not only feel her deep inside but needed to press himself against her. He held his weight off her, but his chest pressed against her.

He threads his fingers through hers again, pinning her arms beside her head. He fastened his hips, thrusting deeper each time and feeling his heavy sacks ricochet against her ass.

God, he wanted to breed her.

The animal instinct in him just wanted to breed her over and over. Impregnate her so she will be stuck with him forever—he and Shinnosuke.

He was already pinning her down; all he had left to do now was cum inside her… forcing her to take his seed.

He would cum inside her over and over until she was overfilled to ensure his seed took place, and a baby… their baby is conceived.

But that would be for another time.

“Y/n…” he groaned, feeling ready to explode. It has been a very long time since he’s ejaculated. He needed to withdraw now in case his timing was off. “You feel so – “ his words are lost when he feels her legs wrap around his waist and arms around his neck. “Y/n – no… I’m – about to –“

As their bodies pressed together, her chest brushing against his, she locked eyes with him. Her gaze was filled with seductive allure, her eyes hooded and shimmering with a glossy sheen, “cum – cum inside Shin… cum inside me….”

“You –“ he tried to shake off her legs, but they only locked tighter, “you don’t know what you’re asking for…”

“Give me a baby, our baby….”

He quickly succumbed to the overwhelming pressure, causing him to crumble.

“As many as I want?” When she looked at him, slightly confused, “many as I want? Right? I’ll marry you, and you’ll give me as many babies as I want?” She did not need to answer him verbally; he felt her walls squeeze him repeatedly as her womb screamed Yes! Yes! Yes!.

He let go of her hands, hooked his arms underneath her legs, and hiked them over his shoulders. He mounted on her, bending her in half before pounding into her, “you’re mine, Y/n. Kita Y/n. Mine.”

He embraced her passionately, envisioning a future where they shared the same surname, and eagerly anticipated the joy of starting a family together.

“Y/n,” he let out a soft moan near her ear, his body quivering in a release as both their bodies trembled together.

“Shin,” Y/n whimpered, “how – how can you… too much…” She could barely lift a finger. However, Shinsuke has been going nonstop. Finally, after three rounds back-to-back, he wiped her down and laid beside her after truly making sure she would not be able to walk.

He has pushed her beyond her limits, bending and pushing her into positions she had never felt so vulnerable.

She lost count of how often they’d engaged in such intensive intimacy.

It was early morning when his husky voice woke her up, his hands grazing her sensitive body and shifting her so he could slide in easily.

It was in the moment when she blabbered, permitting him to cum inside of her.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she were pregnant after these sessions. She learned of Shinsuke’s breeding kink – cumming inside her with an excessive amount of cum that the both of them were a mess of body fluids.

He whispered lewd words into her ear, telling her how good she was at taking in all his seeds. He could not wait to marry and see her round with his baby… babies because he wanted a big family. He was a man of his word, ensuring she would be pregnant after he was done.

And he was nowhere to be done.

She lay flat on her front side; his grip on her waist had become numb as he pounded into her from behind.

Y/n busied herself with setting the table, briefly glancing up as Shinnosuke murmured something she couldn’t quite catch.

He finished setting the table with her when he came around to her side, tugging the apron she wore.

She crouched down to his eye level, “what’s wrong?”

He leaned in closer, his tiny hands cupping her ear as he whispered with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, “can I… can I call you mommy?”

Y/n’s eyes widened with surprise as she gazed at him before responding, “do you want me to be your mommy?”

He nodded, his silver hair with dark tips fluttering, resembling his father’s. “I pray with granny every night, hoping you’ll become my mommy,” he confessed earnestly.

A month ago, Shinsuke and Y/n told Shinnosuke they were dating and seeing each other. Shinnosuke was overjoyed, sharing the information with all his friends and other school staff the next day.

Shinnosuke cherished the morning walks to school, gripping his dad’s and Ms. Y/n’s hands tightly. It filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging.

Y/n started to spend dinner with them and would head home after Shinnosuke went to bed. Then, of course, Shinsuke would take her home…

“Move in with me,” Shinsuke whispered; every night after their few rounds of lovemaking, he would ask the same question again.

As always, Y/n would answer softly, “soon.”

He would return home in the morning before Shinnosuke woke up.

Y/n gently ran her fingers through Shinnosuke’s hair, a tender expression of affection on her face. She adored the young boy, and in the brief period they had spent together, her heart had opened to this father and him. She had fallen in love with both of them deeply.

From the moment she first encountered Kita Shinnosuke, something about the boy inexplicably drew her in. As she inquired about his name and hobbies, his reserved yet bashful demeanor instantly sparked a connection within her.

“I like to garden with my dad.” He answered quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Every morning, she instinctively searched for him in her classroom, ensuring he was present. He was an intelligent and radiant student, and she cherished every moment with him. However, she couldn’t help but notice that his grandmother always picked him up after school while the other parents collected their children.

Y/n asked him one afternoon as she waited with him for his grandmother to show up. Shinnosuke was usually the last student picked up. “My dad is busy with the crops, so he doesn’t get home until after school; that is why my granny picks me up.”

Something deep within her urged her not to probe any further regarding his mother, as he seldom spoke about her.

It wasn’t until Mother’s Day that she organized an activity for all the students to create artwork to gift to their mothers. As the day drew to a close, she noticed Shinnosuke still seated at his desk, gazing at her. Concerned, she asked him, “Shinnosuke, why aren’t you getting ready to go home?” Then, she crouched down and inquired, “is everything all right?”

He nodded his head, a small smile on his face. “I have something to give you.”

Y/n raised a brow, “do you?”

He nodded his head again and pushed his artwork towards her. “Can I give this to you? I don’t have a mommy.”

Y/n’s heart ached for the boy. Everything suddenly made sense to her – why he rarely mentioned his mother.

By the grace of God, she met his father the next day.

And fell in love with him.

“What are you two whispering about?” Shinnosuke and Y/n spun around to find Shinsuke leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and one leg over the other. His brow raised as he observed them. “Are you two planning something without me?”

Shinnosuke chewed his lower lip nervously. “I asked Ms. Y/n if I could call her mommy.”

Y/n shared glances between father and son, noting the striking similarity in their expressions. She has seen some photos of

“And what did Ms. Y/n say?”

The boy anxiously glanced at Y/n, awaiting her response.

Y/n reached out and gently took hold of his tiny hands, cradling them in her own. “Shinnosuke,” she said softly, “you can call me whatever you feel comfortable with. If you want to call me mommy, I would be honored.”

His hazel-green eyes welled up with tears, and he turned to glance at his dad as if seeking confirmation that he wasn’t the only one who heard it.

Y/n shifted her gaze to see Shinsuke approaching them. He crouched on one knee, stepped forward, and presented a small black velvet box. Then, with a heartfelt tone, he spoke, “Y/n, would you also be honored to be called my wife?”

“Please, mommy?” Shinnosuke pleaded, his eyes filled with anticipation, mirroring his dad’s hopeful expression.

“Will you marry me, Y/n? And join us here, with Shinnosuke, granny, and me?” Shinsuke’s quivered with emotion, but he pressed on, his eyes locked with hers. “Together, we can create the family we’ve always dreamed of and build a life together as partners.”

Y/n’s voice caught in her throat as tears streamed down her face, struggling to regain composure. She hastily wiped away the cascading tears, desperately seeking an explanation. “Did you two… plan this?” she choked out.

In a striking display of synchronicity, the father and son exchanged lopsided grins before responding, “yes.”

A soft sniffle escaped her as she gathered herself, her voice filled with emotion. “Yes,” she replied, her eyes glistening with tears, “I would be deeply honored to be your wife, Kita Shinsuke.”

Shinsuke exhaled deeply, a sense of relief washing over him as he reached into the box and retrieved the ring. Sliding it onto her finger gently, he leaned in and tenderly kissed her hand. Then, without hesitation, he pulled her into a warm, embracing hug, his voice filled with sincerity. “I love you, Kita Y/n.” Finally, he gently released his embrace on her and extended his arms to welcome his son into the fold. “We’re a family now,” he murmured, voice filled with warmth and joy.

Life immediately changed in the Kita household.

Y/n and Shinsuke were married quickly in a small and intimate gathering; they exchanged heartfelt vows, surrounded by those who witnessed their profound commitment and their undeniable love for each other.

Neither could believe that a year had elapsed in such a short time.

As summer arrived and the children enjoyed their break from school, Y/n began to notice the subtle changes in her body. After confirming her suspicions, she felt a mix of excitement and anticipation. Finally, the time had come to share the joyous news with her husband, letting him know she was finally pregnant.

Shinsuke couldn’t help but feel and act surprised and delighted as Y/n shared her news, even though he had already suspected it for some time. The unmistakable pregnancy glow, her fatigue, and the increased sensitivity during their lovemaking had all been telltale signs. Deep down, he had known all along, but hearing her confirm it brought him a renewed sense of joy and anticipation.

The physical changes to her body had become more apparent, making it difficult to conceal the news longer. Y/n leaned close to Shinsuke, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with excitement. “Shinsuke,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling, “we’re having twins.”

And he couldn’t have expected anything less. A wide smile spread across his face as he embraced Y/n, his heart brimming with joy and excitement for the blessing of twins.

. . .

E/n: To be clear, we know between the Inarizaki boys... Aran is probably the longest... I hope you enjoy my version of Shinsuke - in my head, he is definitely the top HQ character with the biggest breeding kink.

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu kita shinsuke #haikyuu kita #kita fluff #kita smut #kita angst #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke smut #kita shinsuke x reader

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daisysliv · 2 years

Text

don’t you dare | eddie munson

word count: 1581

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and eddie have a private moment before going into the final battle against vecna

warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, light swearing, possible s4 spoilers

notes: vol 2 absolutely broke me so i spent all night writing this and i am insanely proud of it! this has got to be one of my favorite fics that i ever written so i hope you like it as well. as always, not edited so all my mistakes are my own

library

stranger things bookshelf

Resting your forehead against his, you gripped his hands tightly between the two of your bodies and lifted them to your lips. Your eyes were screwed shut, scared that if you opened them he would vanish and be replaced with darkness. Because that would mean everything was for nothing. It would mean that Vecna figured out the plan before you could even execute it. It would mean everyone you love dies and you couldn't imagine that; And you didn't want to.

He released a puff of air, the smell of nicotine on his breath wafting into your nose causing it to scrunch up in disgust. You didn't mind that he smoked but you always demanded he brush his teeth, wash his hands, and spray cologne before going near you. Today, however, you didn't give a damn.

The possibility of losing him during the battle is too high and you hated it because you couldn't imagine life without him. He’s been your best friend since you were both in your last year of Middle school, seven years he has been by your side, even when you left Hawkins after you graduated to go off to see parts of the world for a year while he stayed behind to redo his Senior year. But only within the last year did you two admit your feelings and start to date.

“I'm scared.” You admitted, your voice cracking from the lump welling up in your throat. His hands gripped yours tighter as he nodded against your head, signaling that he’s listening. “What if it doesn't work? What if he figures it out and kills all of you? I can't- Eddie, I can't lose you too.”

Sighing, he removed his left hand from your interlaced hands and held your face gently, the warmth of his skin sending chills down your spine. You nuzzled into the palm of his hand, a soft smile painting your face. His thumb traced over the skin under your eye, and with a similar voice crack to yours he spoke, “I'm not going anywhere, princess.”

You could tell he was just as scared as you, if not more. The last few days haven't been easy on him and you wished none of it happened. You wished he didn't have to be dragged into this mess but here he was, terrified out of his mind and confused. You kept all this a secret from him for a reason. You didn't want to lose him like you lost your parents to the Mind Flayer last year. You couldn't go through that again. The Upside Down had taken enough from you.

Opening your eyes, you meet his own, lined with unshed tears, big brown eyes. “You hear me? I'm not going anywhere.” He repeats, his eyes searching yours for something but you don't know what.

Nodding, you release his hand from your grip and let your hands run through his long, and messy, dark brown curly hair. His eyes close in relief at your touch, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Tongue darting out to wet your dry and chapped lips, you lifted your forehead off of his and drew your hands back into lap, his hand falling from your face to his knee. Staring at the man in front of you, you hope to whatever God there is that Eddie won't be taken away from you.

“I love you. So much.” You wipe your eyes, the sleeves of your shirt absorbing the fallen tears that stained your cheek. You watch as Eddie’s face switches from terror and worry to shocked and his eyes wide with adoration. While you have been dating for nearly ten months, you have yet to say the three little words that mean so much to you. Saying those words has never been easy for you since your parents never said it to each other, or you much for that matter. It made saying it so much harder because you didn't want to be rejected or found weird for saying them.

When too much time passed between the two of you without a single word being uttered from Eddie, you feel your nerves skyrocket. He was taking too long to answer you and while you could see the love he held for you in his everyday actions towards you and his eyes, you were still scared of possible rejection. By this point, you could feel your heart beating against your ribs so fast you thought it would break through.

You part your lips with the intention to try and backtrack when his hands are cupping your cheeks between them, his cold rings soothing your warm skin.

He laughs softly, his eyes seeming brighter than they have ever been. He’s wanted nothing more than to hear those words from you for as long as he could remember.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear those words.” His smile was wide, it reached his eyes and you could feel your heart soar. You don't think you've ever seen it so big in the last seven years. He pressed his lips to yours, the taste of cigarettes and the spearmint gum you gave him earlier, floods into your mouth. Giggling against his lips, you can't fight the smile spreading across your own making it difficult to kiss him back. His hands move from your face to your waist, holding your hips gently and pulling you onto his lap, disconnecting his lips from yours. “I love you more than you could imagine. My heart beats for you and you only.” He finally tells you.

You hands tangle themselves in his hair and you lean in for another kiss when a sharp knock on the bedroom door breaks you two apart. Climbing off his lap, much to both of your dismay, you pull open the door and your heart drops to your feet when you realize it must be time to go.

You wanted more time.

“Nancy says you two have five minutes before we need to begin.” He informs you, a solemn look spreading across his features. You can only handle nodding before pushing the closed and leaning your forehead against it, wishing you had more than five minutes.

You hear the bed frame creak and assume Eddie was adjusting the way he sat until you felt his long arms circle your waist from behind and pull you into his chest. Laying your head back against his chest, you closed your eyes and let your unshed tears fall freely. You hated to be vulnerable but in this moment, with such limited time with the man you loved, you couldn't help it.

Eddie rested his chin on the crook of your neck, his breath fanning your cheek and you wrap your hands around his, holding him closer to you.

“Don't you dare die on me tonight, Munson, or I swear to God–” You started off but he cut you off quickly.

“Stop. I'm not going anywhere, baby.” He whispers into your neck, pressing a kiss just underneath your jaw on your pulse. The feeling of his lips there sent a chill down your back and you let out a quiet giggle. “I will meet you right back here in a couple of hours, I promise you.”

“Good because I can't do this again. I can't lose someone I love to the Upside Down again. It hurts too much.” You turned his arms but can't bring yourself to look up at him.

He removes an arm from around your waist to trap your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and lifts your head so you look at him. Eddie looks at you with so much love swirling in his eyes that normally would have you swooning but right now it just made your heart break in two. “Stop talkin’ like that, princess, please. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. Just… hide from him for as long as you can while we do our jobs and save you.”

“And Hawkins.”

He chuckled. “Mainly you.”

“I love you.” You whispered and stood up on your toes to press your lips against his. He responded immediately, his hand on your hip tightening while his other one held your cheek. Your lips moved together with a sense of urgency, speaking all the words you didn't have the time to say.

Eddie pulled away first, rested his forehead against yours, and closed his eyes. You did the same.

“It's time.” He murmured. “I wish I could come with you.”

“Me too, but you're the only one that can play Master of Puppets. I’ll be with Lucas, Max, and Erica, they’ll keep me safe.”

“They better or I'm kicking their asses.” Laughing, you slapped his chest.

Seconds pass before reality sets in and you're forced to let each other go, your hands falling to your sides and the smiles fading from your faces. You turn and pull the door open to see Lucas raising his fist to knock.

“Keep her safe and alive, you hear me Sinclair?” Eddie demands, pointing a finger at the boy.

“Promise.”

Turning back to look at your boyfriend, you press one last kiss on his lips. “If you see danger, don't be a hero. I’ll see you in a few hours,” You whispered and disappeared from the room with Lucas so everyone could finish getting ready to fight off Vecna.

You hoped everyone made it out alive.

notes: if you would like to request something from the prompt list, you can find it here, just be sure to add the numbers, and if it’s angst or fluff! if you want to request something that is not on the list, go right ahead and send in the ask!

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STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST

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thevelria · 8 months

Text

Blood and Poker - Call me when you are ready to date me (SFW/mafia!Gojo x pokerplayer!fem!reader)

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Summary: You and your friends go to a casino to have some fun. Since you used to be a pro player you keep winning at the table which gets the attention of the owner. He tries to find out that you are a cheater or a genius.

Author's note: I love poker, I love casinos, I love mafia and I love Gojo. Simple as that lol

Warnings: no warnings.

WordCount: 1.9K

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Sliding into your black heels and fixing your tight, mid-thigh long dress before you actually stepped out of your apartment. “I’m on my way, Shoko.” you clicked your tongue. Your childhood friend sometimes was a bit too much but you loved her anyway. “Yes, exactly. I’m literally opening the door downstairs. I already see you.” you started to wave while canceling the call.

“You are late.” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon… 3 minutes.”

“You are still late.” she teased. “Nah, get in the car. Utahime and Meimei are already waiting for us.”

“What about the boys?” you asked as you buckled the safety up.

“Nanami picks Haibara up and they come with Kento’s car.”

And what is all the fuss about, you may ask? It was a tradition. You’ve been friends since high school and stuck together even if you grew up. Even when you were at different unis and started to work at different workplaces. All of you gathered in the town twice a year. Once for a nice dinner before Christmas and once for a wasted gambling night in the Spring. Since it was April you were eager to meet your friends and let out all the stress, get wasted and probably win some money.

It’s been a few years now that you stopped your career as a professional poker player. On a night like this you were able to feel the tension once again, to feel the adrenalin crawling up in your body and you let it spread in your veins. You had a perfect, so-called poker face. No one could read your emotions and you made advantage of that skill whenever you needed to.

All of you met in front of the entrance, between kisses, hugs and howareyous you looked up for a blink and saw the big neon letters “GOJO”. This casino entered your town not long ago and you were more than happy to give it a try.

As soon as you stepped in the girls aimed for the bar.

“The usual?” Utahime asked you.

“Yes, honey. Thank you. I’ll be over at the…”

“Poker table.” Meimei finished your sentence giggling.

“You know me too well.” you laughed.

Yu joined the girls, while Kento decided to escort you to the table you just picked randomly.

“Tonight is my night, girl.” he leaned closer to you as soon as you took a seat. “I’m gonna win all your sweet money. It will be a perfect revenge for last year’s disaster.”

“You wish, sweetheart.” you petted his thigh. “You wish.”

Round after round you won the pot and kept gathering Kento’s chips, just as the other two player’s, too. Your friend was getting more and more impatient and probably irritated.

“Fuck…” he hissed. “I’m out.” he rolled his eyes the second you raised the bet on the river. After an hour or so Kento was lacking his chips, maybe they were enough for 2 or 3 more rounds.

***

“Boss, I need you to come with me please.” Yuuta bowed slightly before Gojo.

“What’s the matter?” he frowned. The head of security called him only when there was something off.

“I think there might be a cheater at one of the poker tables.” he sat down in the security room in front of the countless screens which gave them access to see everything in the casino. “Look! Do you see it at table 7? She keeps winning for one and a half hours straight. There’s no way she doesn’t count the cards…” he shook his head irritated. “Do you want me to kick her out?”

Gojo stepped closer, rubbing his thumb and index finger up and down on his jaw. “Hmm…” he growled as he stared at you. “I will handle her myself.” he spun on his heels and left the room. “Let’s see if you are a cheater or a genius, darling.” he smirked as he hurried his steps towards your table.

***

“Oh, c’mon!” Nanami threw his hands into the air. “I know you’re bluffing, girl. I’m sure!”

“Am I?” you poked your tongue against your inner cheek.

“Go, sweety, go!” Yu cheered for you from behind, sitting at a normal table, sipping his drink. He and the girls took a break and decided to watch the painful execution of Nanami Kento’s wallet.

“Shut your mouth, Haibara!” hissed the blonde haired man, as he pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

“Show me what you got.” you smiled after the river. At this time only you and him stayed at the table, everyone else gave up and left.

“I win this. I know I do.” he smirked and flashed a full house with Aces full of Kings.

“My sweet, Kento, my sweet sweet Kento.” your voice sounded warm and nice which sent shivers down his body.

“What?! WHAT?!” he clenched his jaw. “If you dare to tell me that…”

“Four of a kind…” you revealed your cards “Queens.” you chuckled a bit as the dealer repeated the result and pushed all the chips to you.

“Fuck off! Seriously, just fuck off, girl!” he took a desperately huge breath.

“Good evening.” a husky voice interrupted the little act at the table. “May I join? It seems this pretty lady is getting lucky, so I would like to try mine, too” the snow white haired man said politely. You missed the quick glance the dealer gave to his boss.

“There’s no luck in this, sir.” you rolled your eyes offended. “I’m simply good at this game.”

He raised his index finger as he took a seat, signing he wanted to join the game anyway.

“If you are an enemy of your own wallet, you can join us.” Nanami hummed.

The cards were dealt and everyone made the bet. You tried to read your newest opponent but him wearing dark sunglasses gave you a hard time.

“You’re staring.” he smirked.

“I know.” you raised one of your eyebrows.

Kento wanted to show off, even if he was terrible at any card games. Everyone knew it except him. He clicked his tongue, so you already knew he actually had something in his hand. You were holding a 7,2 off, so you dropped them without hesitation. There was no way on Earth you would try anything risky with the most horrible combination you could get.

As you kept staring at the handsome man next to you, he slightly pulled his sunglasses off, flashing his mesmerizingly blue eyes. “Holy fuck!” you thought to yourself.

Kento wasn’t paying attention, he was sure this time he was going to win the pot. So he of course missed the cheeky wink his opponent gave you before pushing the glasses back up. You bit your lower lip, because even if it was clearer than the sun you couldn’t say a single thing. You rather tried to find out what he could hold. According to the cards on the table after the river you had two possibilities in mind.

“All in.” he pushed all his chips to the middle of the table.

“Call!” snapped Kento without even thinking for a second.

“Fuck, Nanami!” you shook your head angrily. “How can you be this stupid!”

“Easy, girl. I got this…” he smirked, flashing his cards. “Four of a kind, Aces.” he kept raising his eyebrows up and down. But the fact his opponent pulled a tiny smile told you more than enough.

“He has a fucking straight flush, Kento. Why can’t you read the freaking cards?” you hummed a bittersweet laugh.

“How did you know…” he frowned as he showed the Queen and King of hearts in his hand. The dealer placed them right next to the rest of the cards in the middle of the table and called him the winner.

“Don’t worry.” you turned to Nanami. “I’m gonna win your money back.” you winked at him.

“Will you?” your opponent chuckled. “By the way I’m Satoru.” he offered his hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you.” you nodded.

“It’s my pleasure to play with a woman like you.” he tried to smooth talk.

“Stop flirting and make the bet.” you pretended to yawn.

Gojo pulled his hand back and slightly smiled. Your cheeky attitude amazed him.

As you promised your friend after a few rounds you had all the chips.

“Your girlfriend is very very talented.” he turned to Nanami.

“Girlfriend? Her? I would never ever date her…” he bursted out in a loud laughter.

You punched him hard in the shoulder. “Asshole.”

“You see?” Nanami tilted his head a bit.

“Only a fool wouldn’t date a beautiful lady like her.” he looked you in the eyes. That was the moment he got your attention.

***

Gojo had no intention in telling you he was the owner of the place, rather he invited you for a drink at the bar. You stepped to your friends and promised them you were going to be back soon.

“Girl! Don’t be ridiculous!” Meimei chuckled. “This guy is hot as fuck. Go get him.”

“A Gin-tonic, please.” you sat down at the bar.

“Actually, two.” Gojo took a seat next to you.

The second you wanted to pay for your drink the bartender smiled and said “It’s on the house, miss.”

You were surprised but didn’t turn down the free drink. Satoru started to ask you questions about your skill and you ended up telling him your story.

“I used to be a pro player.” you pulled a painful smile. “But I had to quit and since then I rarely play.”

“You are full of surprises, I am honestly amazed.”

The hours flew by and even if you had fun it was time to end the night.

“The casino has hotel rooms as well.” Gojo offered it smoothly.

“Thanks.” you stood up and placed your palm on his shoulder. “But I don’t do one night stands anymore.”

He smirked at your comment and grabbed a business card in his pocket, handing it to you as he stood up as well. “I’m not interested in one night stands either. Call me when you are ready to date me.” he gave a quick kiss on your cheek and left.

You stared at the card in your hand and frowned, because you were sure you'd seen his name somewhere. As you walked out of the building and turned around there it was. The huge neon letters “GOJO” right above the entrance flashed into your face. You grabbed your phone right away and sent him a text message.

“Why didn’t you say you own this whole place?”

“Does it matter?” he texted you back almost immediately.

You hummed a laugh, because he made a point. “No, actually it does not matter.”

***

The next morning you were woken up by your ringing phone.

“Yeah?” you picked up, being barely awake.

“So, are you ready to date me, yet?” Gojo’s husky voice made you smile.

“Uhm…” you had no idea what to say.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp.” he hung up.

“Well, it seems I’m gonna have a date tonight.” you blinked a few times before a question popped in your mind. “Wait! How the hell does he know my address?”

You had no idea that Gojo Satoru wasn’t only an owner of a casino. No. He was the head of one the biggest mafia families in the whole country.

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thatgirlwithasquid · 11 days

Text

Dear Moor Monster of Mine

3,424 words || read on ao3

I've been meaning to write a wolfblood harringrove au for so very long, so I'm glad that the @harringrove-relay-race gave me the push I needed to finally put my ideas down!

This is the first chapter. The full fic will be up on my AO3, but I didn't want to post too much here haha :)

---

Since the series of incidents last year, Steve’s parents have been keeping an unbearably close eye on him. If you had asked Steve perhaps three years ago, he would have been overjoyed with having his parents around all the time. But, right now, making his walk of shame from the car park where his mam dropped him off to the school’s doors, he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than frustrated.

Instead of travelling away on one of their monthly ‘work conferences’, Steve’s parents have taken to staying home month-round. That now includes the full moons.

When Steve was little he used to hate that his mam and dad left him home alone for such an important day. Sure, they made sure to get nice babysitters or arrange sleepovers for him with Tommy and Carol, but all he had wanted was to share that experience with them. It didn’t matter that he knew he couldn’t do the transformation yet and so couldn’t fully understand it all, they were still his pack and it felt like they just didn’t want to share something that fundamental to wolfblood life with him.

It was isolating and upsetting, no matter how many kisses or how much quality time his parents would try to repay him with upon their return. He just wanted to spend those days with them. But now? Now he would much rather be left alone to watch movies, hang out with his friends, and not have his trainers chewed-through by his mam’s overeager wolf self.

“Nice wellies, Stevie!” Tommy calls out from across the yard as Steve passes by.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” he huffs, striding on past to where Nancy and Jonathan are already waiting.

Nancy doesn’t so much as spare him a glance as he comes to a squeaking standstill in front of them. She only manages a distracted ‘Hi, Steve’ as she continues flipping through her bag, clearly looking for something.

“Morning,” he answers anyway before turning to Jonathan.

He’s not looking at Steve either, too distracted by sending his choice of footwear a confused look.

“Planning on trekking through the woods later?” he asks by way of greeting.

“Monsters ate my shoes, had to make do with these instead.”

That makes Nancy’s head finally shoot up. For a moment, she gapes at him, flustered and speechless, before she composes herself with a sigh and a shake of her head.

It’s then that she straightens up, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder and brushing her hair back behind her ear. It opens her back into the group from where she had otherwise been sequestered off in her own mind. Steve grins at her.

“Don’t joke about stuff like that when Barb’s around,” she reminds him, expression friendly even in spite of her reproach.

“Don’t joke about what when I’m around?”

Well speak of the devil.

They all turn to Barb as she settles herself into their circle. Jonathan and Nancy look pained but Steve just throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a squeezing sideways hug.

“Nothing,” he dismisses. “Just the photography club.”

Barb rolls her eyes, leaning back in Steve’s hold to send him a look that says she doesn’t quite believe him. She doesn’t shrug out of his hold, though, and that might be enough to lighten his petulant mood. The pair of them have come a long way since the whole drama around him and Nancy dating, which is something he’s very glad for.

Losing Tommy and Carol as friends stung, no matter how much he knew it was probably for the best; they weren’t very nice people and being around that sort of character wasn’t doing him any favours, but they had been his friends for years. But cutting himself loose from them, and by apologising properly to Jonathan for being nasty about his brother going missing and to Barb for being such a douche, did bring him into a much nicer friend group.

“You’re not still on about that, are you?” Barb asks him.

“Always,” he replies with a grin, raising his brows.

Okay, maybe he’s not fully lost all his douchey-ness, but at least now he can argue it’s just part of his charm. Barb just shakes her head and accepts it with a fond roll of her eyes.

“You already have your own camera,” Steve continues, turning now to address Jonathan, “so it’s not like you need it to be a school club.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice for it to be.”

“Fine, but I still think I deserve more credit for joining.”

“You only put your name down on some paper,” Nancy points out, smiling indulgently at him.

“And wasn’t that to make up for you smashing my camera?” Jonathan pipes up.

Steve cups a hand over his heart with a wounded expression.

“Wow, I see how it is. And, for the record—” he drops his hold on Barb to lean in and jab a finger into Jonathan’s chest “—I replaced that camera, as you should all know. You use it all the time for your stupid club. And what’s the point of the school supplying you with stuff if you bring your own in anyway?”

No one humours that with a response. That’s fine, they’ve gone over this bickering a hundred times before. Steve only really brings it up to wind them up now—all in good humour! At the end of the day, he’s fine with being an on-paper member of their club if it helps them out or whatever, especially since he knows that the Photography Club is Jonathan’s favourite thing about school.

He owes them all as much as well, for continuing to let him hang around. They let him off the hook for last year with less grovelling than was probably deserved.

“Ah,” Barb jumps in. “Speaking of photography… you’ve got to see what I found this morning on the moors.”

She unearths her phone from her bag and Steve winces. Sure, it’s only been about a year that he’s known Barb, but he really has come to like her.

The whole of Hawkins High has always known about her monster on the moors theory—hell, the whole town probably does—and Steve had laughed at it back then, like everyone else, but now Barb is his friend… It leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth to think of the way he’d acted about that before, and the way others still act now.

It was arrogance, that sort of reaction. Thinking he was better than her because of her theories. And it was him in particular who was more arrogant than anyone else, hiding behind it to ignore that twinge of anxiety. It was easier to dismiss it all as ridiculous. Steve hadn’t quite been cruel enough to laugh in her face, but he’d still snickered behind his hands with Tommy and Carol before him and Nancy had gotten together early last year.

Now that he knows Barb, it’s definitely worse. With him being around her so often, it feels like he’s waiting for her to look at him a little too closely and see just what lies beneath the surface. And that’s something he really doesn’t want, not just for his own safety.

They had to come a long way to get to where they stand now, but she’s undoubtedly one of his closest friends. Her, Nancy and Jonathan. All three of them—despite their rocky time when Steve had thought Nancy was cheating on him with Jonathan—are the people he cares about most in this world.

He really doesn’t want Barb’s obsession with her own ghost story to get in between them all, he couldn’t handle it if they decided he was still a monster even after everything.

“See?” Barb asks, shoving the screen of her cellphone in their faces.

On it, clear as day, is the photo of a paw print. Realistically, it could be anything so it shouldn’t matter… but Steve can’t help the small shudder of anxiety in his chest. It doesn’t even make sense! His parents couldn’t have been up in the moors to leave that—he would know—and there’s no other wolfbloods around for miles of their territory, so it’s got to be an animal.

And yet.

“Um… What… is it?” Jonathan asks. “Just a paw print?”

Barb huffs, turning to show Nancy instead, who gives the photo a more genuinely intrigued look.

“ ‘Just a paw print’,” Barb grumbles. “This is proof.”

“It could be,” Nancy says, and Steve can tell that she’s serious. “I could also be a fox or something—”

“Yeah, or a stray dog,” Jonathan suggests.

Barb looks at Steve pleadingly, but there’s nothing he can say. He knows this isn’t what Barb wants it to be. It can’t be.

“We need more concrete evidence,” Nancy consoles her instead.

“But this still proves something,” Barb insists. “That there’s something up there.”

“Hey, Barbara!” Carol calls.

The group of them all turn to see Carol, Tina and Vicki walking up behind them.

“I saw something weird on the moors: you.”

The others snicker as they push past, making their way inside. Steve shoots them a sour look as they strut past.

“Whatever, Carol,” Jonathan sighs, never having enough energy to deal with her dramatics.

Steve can’t blame him, it seems impossible that he had been able to get used to what they were like.

“Ignore her,” Nancy tells Barb.

“I will. We’ll show her when we end up being right.”

Nancy nods with an unsettling certainty.

—

Walking in to their form room would be the same as usual were it not for the folder of posters Nancy finally unearths from her bag. She leafs through them, splitting the pile into smaller ones to hand to each of them. Steve accepts his own with a begrudging confusion, peering down at the sign-up sheets and trusting the others to guide his way through the halls.

“When did you have time to print these off?” he asks.

“I came in early,” Nancy tells him with a shrug. “My parents wanted me to show Mike around on his first day anyway, so I was in early.”

Steve hums.

“That’s right, you two—” he gestures between Jonathan and Nancy “—have your brothers starting year 7 now, right?”

Jonathan nods to him; “That’s right.”

They turn a corner, heading towards the stairs up to Mrs Click’s room.

“Why don’t you just get them to sign up for your club, then? They’re nerds. That way you won’t need to stick these up around school.”

Barb rolls her eyes as Steve reaches over her to wave his stack under Nancy’s nose. The brunette just bats him away with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t think they’d find that particularly… cool,” Jonathan answers in her stead, “hanging out with their older siblings.”

Steve shrugs. He can’t say he can relate, being an only child, but whatever, he can see where they’re coming from.

Barb and Nancy are debating the best ways to go about getting new members for the photography club when Steve goes rigid. They take a few more steps before they realise he’s fallen behind and then, with curious eyes, turn back to call out to him.

Steve doesn’t hear a word of it. Something’s off.

An unusual scent roots him to the spot. He doesn’t know what it is—or maybe he does, but it can’t possibly be what he thinks. All he knows is that this has never been here before, and it shocks him with a deep sense of wrongness. It doesn’t belong there.

He needs to root it out.

An instinctive territoriality spurs him onwards, picking up his pace until his friends are following after him with confused shouts. He needs to find whatever left that scent throughout the school. It’s like he can see it, a trail of scent in the air guiding him to whoever or whatever left it.

“Steve?” Nancy is calling. “Steve!”

He just keeps moving, feet carrying him onwards. Turning down hall after hall, paying no attention to the loitering students he shoulders past.

“Steve, you’re going the wrong way,” he thinks that might be Jonathan this time.

The bell rings and more students hurry through the corridor, dispelling the scent trail. If Steve had gone through his first transformation by now, he’d probably still be able to track down whoever left it from the lingering traces, but with his senses not being fully developed yet…

He stands still dumbly, staring ahead with a sense of uselessness. The wolf instinct within him feels unappeased.

“C’mon,” Jonathan coaxes, leading him back over to where Barb and Nancy stand looking concerned. “We’ve got class.”

It’s probably lucky for them all that the scent trail Steve was following didn’t create too big of a detour. As it stands, they get into Mrs Click’s class for form in the nick of time. The woman stands up at the front of the room, talking to an unfamiliar head of blonde curls.

At first, Steve notices nothing askew—Mrs Click is talking to the new student about how she is their form tutor and head of year—but then it washes over him. The adrenaline of nearly being late to his first lesson fades and that scent steals his attention again.

He freezes in where he’s stepped aside to allow Barb to shuffle into their shared desk, eyes swivelling to that new figure. Now that he’s paying attention, it’s like the scent itself is visible in the air, clouding around him with that cloying wrongness and announcing to the world how wrong his presence here is.

There’s a cocksure smirk on his face that makes Steve’s lip curl in disdain, an instinctual need to snarl and warn off the outsider barely suppressed.

“Everyone, this is William Hargrove—”

“Billy,” the new kid buts in. “It's Billy.”

A chorus of ooohs rise from the room, students goading on the attitude shown to their teacher. For her credit, Mrs Click takes it in stride. Instead, she nods and turns to settle the class.

“Okay,” she says, raising her voice over the beginnings of chatter. “That’s enough, thank you…”

But Steve is barely listening. It’s like everything else fades away and his focus narrows down to this William—Billy—still standing at the front of the class. Like Steve’s whole world is overtaken by the beating of his heart and the inescapable smell of him, a smell that’s so familiar. Familiar in a way that has his hackles rising in unease. It’s almost like…

“You smell like my parents,” Steve blurts out, and the rest of the class starts laughing.

Nancy reaches over from her and Jonathan’s desk to yank him down into his seat by the hem of his jumper’s sleeve. She shoots him an unimpressed look as Mrs Click scolds him:

“Alright, Harrington. Sit down.”

Steve barely hears any of them, barely notices any of it. Billy’s eyes had locked on to his, deep and blue and endless. It felt like Steve was falling into them, diving head-first into their emptiness where Billy would eat him alive.

“Steve,” Barb whispers, jabbing him with an elbow.

It’s only then that Steve realises he’s been watching Hargrove as he walks over to an empty seat at the very back of the room.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, trying to turn and give her his full attention. “It’s nothing.”

He can’t get involved, not after everything. Steve has been working so hard to prove to his parents and his friends—hell, even to Tommy and Carol as they watch with a smug anticipation for his downfall—that he’s not the guy he used to be. That’s something he can’t just throw away by causing problems with the new kid, even if he’s breaking every rule Steve has ever known.

There’s no question that this Billy is a wolfblood like he is, like his family is. The question is what is he doing here? One doesn’t just set up themselves on some other pack’s territory, and the Harringtons have held the territory around Hawkins for centuries.

By showing up here, Billy is throwing everything off balance, but Steve can’t risk doing anything about it. Not now, not like this. As much as Steve wants to step up and scare him off, this is something he’s going to have to leave to his parents to deal with.

Even as he feels the itch of Billy’s eyes on the back of his neck, Steve keeps on looking ahead.

—

Billy, so it seems, takes no time to settle into Hawkins. By the time lunch rolls around, he’s already settled himself pride of place between Tommy and Carol, a wolfish curl to his grin that flashes just a hint of canine. It’s so outlandishly taunting that Steve has to sit with his back to their table to avoid staring at his sheer gall.

Nancy and Jonathan are discussing the school paper when Steve decides he can’t stand this silence anymore. He tears his head around from looking over his shoulder after Billy’s eyes catch his and his smirk seems to dim.

“Where the hell did he even come from?” he asks, cutting off Jonathan’s suggestion about… actually Steve isn’t sure, something about a book of the week.

“Who?” Nancy asks and Steve jerks his head back to where Billy now keeps sending glances his way.

He can feel the others’ gaze on him, like someone is brushing his fur the wrong way.

“Billy,” he says, trying with great difficulty to keep his tone neutral. “Someone must have seen something. Moving vans or something. Anything.”

Jonathan just shrugs.

“Not that I heard. Seems like everyone’s interested in him now, though.”

Steve looks around again in time to see Tina and Vicki settle themselves in the seats opposite Billy and Carol, effectively severing Steve’s line of sight. He huffs and turns back around. At the very least, them blocking the way soothes that feeling of being observed.

When he meets her eye, Nancy has a concerned look on her face.

“Leave it Steve,” she warns, voice carefully neutral. “You don’t want to get caught up in any trouble again.”

He hears what she’s saying, even if she won’t just come out with it.

I won’t put up with you if you act like an asshole again.

It rankles him. It’s not even like it’s him doing anything wrong here! He almost wants to tell her that, to point out that for once he’s not just being an asshole, but doesn’t dare. He can’t, he reminds himself.

He couldn’t tell Tommy and Carol—probably for the best given their massive fall out—and so he can’t tell these guys either. No matter what. Which means he just has to bite his tongue and mind himself. This is something he just needs to let lie and have his parents handle it.

They can reach out to Billy’s pack, he thinks. And then this will be sorted.

“And who’s that?”

Billy’s voice is clear and quiet with consideration, cutting through all the background noise like he had whispered the words directly into Steve’s ear. He shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he can’t help himself from focusing his enhanced hearing to pick up the conversation.

“Him?” Tommy says, breaking off with a derisive laugh. “That’s ‘King Steve’, used to be top dog around here. The Harrington’s have lived here for years, one of those right old families and Steve acted like it until he got all soft and cosied up to Nancy. Well—” Tommy laughs again and Steve clenches his fist beneath the table “—until Nancy ran off after weirdo Byers, there.”

Billy hums, interested. He doesn’t say anything else, but Steve can feel the way his eyes linger on him for a long moment.

The canteen smells like the sweat of overcrowded kids as he takes in steadying breaths through his nose. Jonathan, Barb and Nancy chat on none the wiser. It takes a long moment, but Steve manages to reign in his self control and steel himself into an icy indifference.

It doesn’t matter what Tommy thinks of him. Steve’s moved on, he’s better than this now. And the new kid won’t be around for long. Wolfblood packs don’t mix; even if he’s here now, he won’t be for long. Him and his pack will be long gone by the end of the week.

---

Stick around to see what wonderful work @medusapelagia has put together for us next!! <3

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove relay race #fanfic #wolfblood au #cannot believe i initially forgot my au tag. for shame #also may or not be still working on the lasy couple chapters cause your girlie had to give up and sleep last night

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robinhobiii · 9 months

Text

Buttons

Professor! Wonwoo

Y/n failed a few classes and now the college needs to speak with a guardian.

Warning: kinda suggestive

Y/n was stressed. The results of all the exams come out today and she’s dreading to pick up the paper. She knows she failed chemistry. She had no clue what she did during a the labs or what she did on the final exam. She’s been slacking for the two months going out and about and not studying. There’s not way she got above a C on the other exams too. What’s worse is the fact that her husband, Jeon Wonwoo, worked at her university as a history and philosophy professor. It was an arranged marriage and she only said yes because she thought he would go easy on the school work load. However, he’s more strict than her father! Always wanting straight A’s and less than 5 absences. However, no one knows about this. He didn’t tell anyone because he didn’t want people to think he was favoring her because she was his wife.

He’s a cold man, but he cares about her. She seen on multiple occasions that he did. Like when it was close to midnight and she’d ask for help on certain questions. Or when it’s that time of the month and he goes out and buys whatever she craves. They’ve been married for almost two years and she’s feels as though they’re almost at the finish line to be lovers. But she’s not too sure on how he’ll react to the report.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing. Strange.

It’s was the student center.

“Hello?” She said cautiously.

“Ah yes, good evening Ms. L/n, this is your advisor speaking. I’m going to need you to come to my office right now please. We need to discuss the sudden drop in your grades.”

“. . .”

“Ms. L/n, are you there?”

“Ah! Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

. . .

“Ms. L/n, your GPA dropped from a 3.9 to a 2.9 in a matter of two weeks. From what I can see, your grades went down during the last few weeks of this semester. You are an excellent student because I can see that before you had a A and B average. However, this severe drop can really cause problems for graduation.”

She said as the advisor looked at her. She had no words to say because honestly she did this to herself. Y/n knew that she was failing but not to the point where it’ll cause her problems to graduate.

“What can I do? I’ll do anything to fix it!” Y/n exclaimed.

The advisor sighed and said “Well, since you’re in danger of not graduating, this is what has to be done. We need to have a meeting with a guardian to make sure that you stay on track and they push you towards graduation. We know you’re a good student, so we’re giving you this chance to redeem yourself. Once we can come to a compromise with you, the guardian, and I, we’ll allow you to retake the classes online.”

“Um, w-when is it a good time to come by? ”

”Hmm, what’s today . . Oh! Thursday. I’ll set aside time for Friday, 4:30 pm, okay? Does that sound fair. “

Ooh, Y/n, you idiot! You’re done tonight.

“Thank you so much for the second opportunity!”

. . .

She’s fucked.

She stared at the paper the advisor gave. She needs to give it to Wonwoo so he can look it over so he has an idea of what meeting will be about. However, she doesn’t have it in her to do so. It’s was close to 9:30 pm and Wonwoo just pulled into the drive way. She gasped and shoved the paper in her pack back. Y/n made her way to the kitchen and waited for him to come in.

He shut the door rather roughly.

Yup, she’ll have to tell him later. He’s not in a good mood and her telling him about the meeting is not a good idea.

“You okay? ” she said softly as she watched him hang his long coat. He merely grunted and made his way to the bathroom. It was one of those days for him. Mondays and Thursday’s were the most difficult for him. Monday’s . . Well they’re just Monday’s. But Thursday’s are difficult because it’s the day before Friday and he just wants the week over.

She nervously plated his food and waited for him. She was too nervous to eat the right now and just wanted him to go to sleep so she can think of a plan. After his shower, he sits down and starts to eat. She looked at his beautiful face and the way his wet hair effortlessly made him look even more gorgeous. He quirked his eyebrow and looked at her. “Why aren’t you eating?” His deep voice sending chills down her back.

”m’not hungry” she said timidly.

He squinted his eyes and looked up and down at her, trying to read her. “Why?”

“Oh! It’s nothing. I just had a big snack earlier, that’s all. ” she said softly.

He hummed and continued to eat.

“How were your exams?”

She couldn’t think of what to say. She was silent and Wonwoo stopped eating and looked straight at her. “Y/n, I asked you something.” His hooded eyes looked into hers and she got way too nervous and looked away. Before he could say anything else, his phone rang. Y/n quickly got up and got it for him and zoomed to the bedroom.

She doesn’t know how or when she fell asleep, but she woke up at 6:32 am. Wonwoo already left as he needs to be there by 6:00 am. She was panicking on what to do since the meetings is at 4:30 and she still didn’t tell him. Maybe she could text him? No, then he’ll be in a bad mood all day and no one deserve that.

Ugh! Y/n you had one job and couldn’t even do that right.

. . .

It was 4:05 pm and she still hadn’t told him. And the meeting was in 25 minutes.

Sigh. It’s now or never.

Y/n walked in to his office and sat down in front of him. His eyes bore into hers, trying to read them. She quickly looked away and sighed for the millionth time. “Wonwoo, I’m g-going to tell you something, but you can’t get m-mad.” She said nervously as she played with his fingers.

“Enlighten me, princess.”

“I-I, uh, well, um, okay. Are you busy in about 20 minutes?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No”

“I need you to come to a meeting with me.”

He looked confused. Why would he get mad at that?

“May I ask what the meeting is for?” He said as he intertwined their hands.

Her heart fluttered but she’s not sure if it’s because he’s holding her hand or if she’s too nervous to answer him. She remained silent for a bit.

“Y/n? You okay, darling? ”

Her heart was beating out of her chest and she couldn’t formulate a sentence.

“Princess. ” He said more firmly.

She straightened up and his hooded eyes looked at her intently. “I asked why? You know I don’t like repeating myself.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she pulled away her hands and looked at the white digital clock behind him.

4:24.

Where did the time go?!

She quickly pulled out the paper from yesterday from her back pack and quickly handed to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo’s eyes skimmed through the paper and boy did he not look too happy. “You failed two of your classes?” He asked way to calmly. “And three D’s. You must’ve not learned your lesson from last time.” She was shaking slightly as the memories from that night resurfaced in her mind and she quickly shook her head no. “W-wonwoo, I-I can explain-”

He stood up and went around the desk to be in front of her. He leaned forward toward her face and lifted her chin up. “What time is the meeting?” His minty breath fanned her lips.

“4:30. ”

He looked at the clock and it read 4:27.

“You’re really in it for tonight, princess.” His deep voice said as he leaned closer.

“Let’s go”

. . .

“So, you both have been married for almost two years?!” The adviser said shocked.

Wonwoo only nodded as he look at Y/n but she was avoided any eye contact from him.

“Well in that case, I know that she’ll have no trouble to get back on track to graduate. ” He chuckled as Wonwoo let out a small laugh.

“I’m just so shocked that a professor’s wife would slack off so much to the point where her gpa drops and she’s in danger of not graduating.” The advisor laughs. Wonwoo clenched his jaw as he glanced at Y/n and she again was avoiding his eyes.

After talking for a few more minutes, the meeting was done and she would restart those class on Monday. To say Wonwoo was furious would be an understatement. The whole car ride home was silent. She saw how hard he was gripping the steering wheel and she was so scared for what will unfold at home.

As soon as he pulls into the driveway, she practically jumps out of the passenger side and quickly makes it to the front door. She opens the door, kicks her shoes off, and makes her way to the bedroom. Just as she goes the lock the door, Wonwoo stops her. He roughly pushes the door open and both of them are in a stand-off position. Wonwoo slowly walks forward and she slowly walks backward.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was, princess? Hmm? Hearing him say that a professor’s wife is slacking off? What will my students think? That my wife can’t even do well even though she has all the resources to do so? You really didn’t learn your lesson last time, did you?”

She shuddered as she remembers the last time they were there before. She gulped. “W-Wonwoo, I’m sor-”

“Uh uh. You’re not. You just love pushing my buttons, don’t you. I thought you were my good girl? Hmm? ”

Her legs finally hit the edge of the bed. Wonwoo places his hand on her chest and pushes her down roughly. He hovers above her.

“I hope you’re ready because after this, I’ll make sure you never ever have an F again.”

124 notes · View notes

danielfuckingricciardo · 1 year

Text

r/relationship_advice - Charles Leclerc x Reader

A collection of Reddit posts, comments, tweets, and fic

Pairing - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis - The reader is in a difficult situation, and decides to make a post on Reddit to get help with her predicament. What she doesn’t expect is for people to realise who she is.

Content Warnings - swearing, sexual references

Author’s Note - this is not just a standard fic! This is a collection of Reddit posts, comments, tweets, and fic. Sort of like a collage of different shit all telling one story! Because of this the perspective is different in each part, like the Reddit posts are in first person, and the fic is in second person as usual!

I wanted to experiment with something different structure wise, you know me, I like to fuck with stuff and do weird shit. If high school musical taught me anything, it’s that we shouldn’t stick to the status quo.

Please do tell me if you like the structure, if you don’t, if there’s anything you don’t think works etc! I’d love to do more shit like this so if you have any ideas of what else I could include in one of these (like text messages, DMs, Snapchat, insta stories, whatever) do let me know!

r/relationship_advice • 5d ago

Posted by throwaway27936

My (25F) boyfriend (27M) thinks I have a thing for one of my coworkers (25M). The worst thing about it is… I do.

I wanna preface this by saying that I’ve been with my boyfriend since I was 18. And I do love him. But last year I managed to bag my dream job and it meant us going long distance.

I wasn’t worried about the whole thing, after all, we’d been together for six years already and lived together for three of them. We had two cats together, and the word on the street was he was thinking of buying a ring to pop the question before I got my job offer.

The job is my dream job, and it’s actually what we had initially bonded over when we were at college together. When I got that email saying the job was mine he was so excited for me, and I was thrilled. It’s what I’d been working towards for so long!

But as things set in for him, and he realised I would be away for weeks and weeks, I could tell something changed. It was like he was faking being happy for me. The proposal never came, I suppose maybe because I was going to be away for days like valentines and both our birthdays, maybe he just couldn’t find the right time? Either that or he didn’t want to be engaged to someone who was hardly around?

He drove me to the airport, and no matter how sad I could see he was feeling, I couldn’t stop my excitement as I jetted off to another country to begin my work! I suppose that didn’t help either, him seeing how pumped I was and not being all tearful and sad to be leaving him. But I couldn’t help it, and I was sad, I just didn’t want to make our parting more upsetting for myself or for him.

The job kept me busy. Like super busy. But I did manage to come home every now and then, to tell him about all the amazing things I’d seen and done, do date nights snuggled up on the couch with our kitties Nemo (4M) and Milo (4M) but something was just… off??

And him being off, not being as affectionate and loving as he used to be, is what drew me to my coworker.

The final nail in the coffin was my trip home during summer last year. My bf and I pretty much argued the entire time, just over little tiny things, until suddenly, he just exploded. He berated me over the fact that I was never home. That he was the one stuck there looking after the cats, living a normal life while I was living my dream and flying around the world with my team.

It hurt, and I’m gonna be honest with you, I said some things I wish I could take back. Mainly along the lines of ‘it’s not my fault you weren’t able to make something of your life like I was.’

I regret saying that. I know that he struggled after college. It was a low blow. But I was angry, because I was living my dream, the dream we had bonded over that night in the sports bar just off campus when we met. He should be happy for me, right?

Well, after I left at the end of summer on a particularly sour note, I was ready to be done with him. I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he’d gotten it all out of his system and that when I returned during a two week break in October, things would be better.

We hardly talked. September meant no FaceTimes, hardly any texts, no likes on my Instagram posts, nothing. Zilch. Nada. I tried, god knows I did. Scrolling through our WhatsApp chat makes me look so fucking desperate but I wasn’t ready to give up.

One day, after another period of being totally ignored, my coworker, who I shall call C, noticed I was upset. Before now I hadn’t spent much time with C as he was far more high profile than me. I worked in the wings but he was the star of the show.

I didn’t mean to trauma dump on him, but all these feelings just kinda came spilling out. I ended up crying on him and getting his shirt all covered in snot. It was gross, I apologised, he said not to worry about it.

The thing about C is, is that he’s beautiful. I know you don’t often see the word beautiful being used to describe a man, but he is. He’s gorgeous. Like don’t get me wrong, my bf is hot too, but C? Damn.

He was so kind to me, he listened, he wiped away my tears, cheered me up, and made me feel better again.

Don’t get me wrong, I would never cheat. I couldn’t. One of my best friends from college had her boyfriend of five years cheat on her and she was heartbroken. I still loved my boyfriend, I couldn’t do that to him. Besides, C himself already had a girlfriend. So anything between me and him was completely off the table.

But that didn’t stop me from catching feelings for C. There’s nothing cheaty about catching feelings, right? Especially when your bf is ghosting you the way mine was.

But C and I became good friends over the time we spent together throughout September after the whole snotty crying situation. He was a good friend, and it was nice to have someone in your corner when all of your normal best friends are halfway across the world.

When I went home in October, I arrived at my bf and I’s flat to find him sat in the lounge, surrounded by packed boxes and suitcases. He told me it was over.

Naturally I cried, I was hoping we’d have a chance to smooth things out, especially over Christmas when I’d have a whole two months to spend at home before I had to be back at work.

My bf showed me a picture on his phone, it must have been from some night out I can hardly remember after a good weekend’s work. And there I was with C. We were just dancing, but his hand was on my waist. Man we must have been so hammered.

My bf assumed I had a thing for him, which I did, but I would never have acted on. But I told him I didn’t, that we were just good friends, which wasn’t a lie. We were good friends, I just happened to fancy the pants off C but only in secret.

He wouldn’t listen to me, told me the whole long distance thing wasn’t working and that I either had to quit my job, or we would have to break up.

I couldn’t quit. I loved my job too much. It was exactly what I had dreamed of since I was a child. I told him that, and he said it was over.

He said he’d look after the cats until I found a new stable home someplace, and that he’d let me store my things in the spare room, but I didn’t live here anymore.

I left for my parents that night, in tears, and texted C. I told him what had happened, and he said I should get out, go visit him at home and keep my mind off of things before we had to travel again.

I knew I shouldn’t have. That it just made C and I’s relationship look even more suspicious. But I was upset, and angry. Besides, I wasn’t the only one at fault. If my bf had just replied to my texts more, and been willing to work harder on the long distance thing, I think we’d still be together now.

But I went to see C. And we had a great week. We hung out, played video games, got drunk, it was great. Of course his girlfriend stopped by every day for a few hours at least, and sometimes I’d be left alone in his apartment while they went for dinner and stuff. And that was when I cried.

I felt guilty for something that was beyond my control. I felt angry because, if my boyfriend had just been more willing to make it work, I wouldn’t have gone crying to C and I wouldn’t have ended up with this big fat crush on him.

By the time it was time to return home, I went and moved all my stuff out of my now ex-bf’s apartment and took the cats to my parents. I spent Christmas with them, and despite how much it hurt being alone surrounded by my family who were all coupled up, I had my work in 2023 to get me through.

But I also had C. We texted, a lot, after the breakup. I think he wanted to make sure I was okay? That I wasn’t feeling down.

But eventually it was my turn to check in on him, as C and his gf broke up. We spent a lot of time on FaceTime that week, being a pair of sad single losers drinking red wine and talking shit. He was my friend, and I cared about him a lot.

Come New Year’s Eve, I was invited to see in 2023 with my closest friends at a party one of them was hosting. And it was there I saw my ex-bf for the first time since I moved out.

I expected he would be there, after all, we had a lot of the same friends. But I was prepared for it. I’d cried my tears out, I’d gotten out all of my frustrations, and so when he asked me out on the balcony for a chat, I said ‘sure, why not?’

Call it a bad idea, call me foolish, but we ended up making out up there. We kissed at midnight that night, and promised to give it all another go. He said he wouldn’t get jealous of me and my job, and I said I’d try to come home more and spend more time with him.

The first week of January, I moved my stuff back into our apartment, brought the cats back from my parents, and we rekindled our relationship. Despite all the pain I went through, I still loved him. And he still loved me.

But then C texted, asked if I wanted to fly over and hang out for a weekend. My bf wasn’t too happy with the idea. He was still convinced I had a thing for C, despite me telling him most certainly that I didn’t. But I did still have a thing for C.

Thing were frosty between me and my bf for a few days, and as I prepared to return to work, he got increasingly more agitated. But eventually, when it came time for me to leave, he cried. I cried and hugged him as we parted at the airport. I promised I would call and text every day, and that I wouldn’t ignore him in favour of work.

I loved my boyfriend, I really did. But then I saw C again. And now I don’t know what to do.

I love both of them, so much, and I don’t know what I want anymore. Is it selfish of me to stay with my bf? Would it be stupid for me to call it quits with him and risk things with C even if he doesn’t feel the same? I’m just stuck in a rut and my emotions are going crazy. Help!

TLDR: my boyfriend thinks I’m in love with my coworker, I say I’m not, but after a shaky period with my bf, I fell for my coworker. Now I don’t know what to do! Help?

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AutoModerator • 2d ago

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Reindeerbuddy27 • 4d ago

I think your boyfriend sounds like a dick. It was his fault for ghosting you! If he hadn’t have reacted the way he did over summer you would have never bonded with your coworker and caught feelings. IMO you’d be better off breaking up with him and either being single or getting with C, though I’d give him some time to get over his own ex-gf before you try anything!

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Throwaway27936 • 4d ago

Yeah, it kinda was his fault I caught feelings in the first place, you’re right. I wouldn’t say he was a dick, he just missed me I guess and his sadness turned into anger the longer I was away and it just all exploded. Even so, we’re back together and on good terms, and I still love him. I don’t think I could break up with him without a valid reason to do so?

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ReindeerBuddy27 • 3d ago

I get that you don’t want to lose him, but if you’re not fully invested in the relationship with him and want to explore the possibility of having something with C, I think breaking up with your bf would be the fairest thing to do.

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Throwaway27936 • 3d ago

Hmm… maybe you’re right. I need some time to think about it. Thanks for the advice! I really appreciate it! ♥︎

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Pedr0Pascal14 • 4d ago

Would you maybe be able to ask your bf about opening your relationship? Allowing you to pursue things with C to see where they lead while also keeping your bf?

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Throwaway27936 • 4d ago

Definitely not. He’s all about monogamy, and I am too. If I suddenly asked about opening the relationship he’d be even more suspicious of me and my reasons for asking.

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Demeter779 • 3d ago

Could you reduce the amount of time spent at work maybe? Like going part time so you’re only away for six months out of the year?

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Throwaway27936 • 3d ago

Sadly it’s not possible. My job is kinda all or nothing. If I asked about reducing my hours they’d laugh in my face and fire me. There’s plenty of people who would die for a chance to fill my role so I wouldn’t be missed.

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Demeter779 • 3d ago

That sucks. I would say tho, without being mean, it seems like your job is your number one priority and not your bf. While there’s nothing wrong with that, I think that’s where the problem lies. Especially if before you took the job he was always your number one! It’s probably been hard for him to adjust! I hate to say it, but I don’t think you two are meant to be and these problems are only gonna get worse this year with you being away. This situation really sucks for you OP, I’m sorry.

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LionVerstappen33 • 2d ago

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Hon3ybadg3r • 2d ago

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MonacoBaby • 2d ago

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r/relationship_advice • 6hr ago

posted by Throwaway27936

UPDATE: My (25F) boyfriend (27M) thinks I have a thing for one of my coworkers (25M). The worst thing about it is… I do.

Okay, ya got me.

Considering my life has already been put under extreme scrutiny from random strangers on the internet to literal news publications, I figured it couldn’t get any worse than it already has and so I’d post an update here.

I wanna start out by saying I am stupid. I made my post thinking I was fully anonymous, the account was a throwaway with no real ties to my irl identity and I tried as hard as I could to conceal the true nature of my work, but you F1 girlies are far too intelligent and I realise that now.

In hindsight I shouldn’t have deleted those comments, because it did just make me look more suspicious. If I’d have left them, maybe even replied to them and said ‘yes I work in F1 but can we please keep it on the dl as I don’t want anyone finding out who I am’ then right now I wouldn’t be sat in my childhood bedroom crying with a cat on my knee typing out this post.

I also wanna say that I hold no grudges with Twitter user LionVerstappen_ I mean, they’re far too clever for their own good, and they terrify me, but I don’t hate them, and all the hate that they’re getting is unjustified and wrong. It was my fault for posting on the internet thinking I’d be safe. That’s on me, not them, so please do leave them alone.

Since that post was made, a lot has changed. Obviously I had already returned to work, I was in the factory at Maranello working on some technical shit I won’t bore you with and getting ready for the livery reveal on the 14th and fine tuning for next season.

I had seen LionVerstappen_ and Hon3ybadg3r’s comments and deleted them as soon as I did. I didn’t fancy answering them, and thought ‘shit, this is getting a little dicey’ and disabled commenting on my post. I thought that would be the end of that, I had some good advice given before that, and I would mull it over before I next saw my boyfriend.

Suddenly, my phone just started fucking blowing up. I had a bunch of random people request to follow me on Instagram, and when I say a bunch, I mean a fuck load. Like 20k follow requests in the space of a few hours. Immediately I was like ‘what the fuck?’ Assuming I’d been hacked or something. I had like 200 followers before that, and I knew all of them in some capacity, and I hadn’t just become some internet celebrity (not on purpose at least) so what was going on?

That’s when I got a message from my friend back home. She’s an F1 fan and is pretty active on F1twt which is how she saw the posts. She sent me a link to the original tweet from LionVerstappen_ as well as to DeuxMoi’s Instagram stories. I was shocked, I really didn’t know how to react.

I couldn’t believe that my silly little Reddit post had actually been figured out, especially after I’d deleted those comments, I thought it was the end. I debated taking down the Reddit post, but really, what was that gonna do? There were already screenshots all over Twitter so it wouldn’t make a difference.

This all happened during my lunch break, and after lunch, I was called into my boss’ office. It seems the Ferrari PR department had also seen the tweets and the speculation, and they wanted to talk to me about it.

I burst into tears. My personal life was all over the internet, my boyfriend had probably seen it all and knew how I felt and that I’d been lying to him about my feelings. I knew it was only a matter of time before he called me and ended things with me again.

Thankfully, the PR team were nice to me. They said they’d handle it, and most importantly, that my job was safe. It was nothing to do with my capabilities as an engineer, after all, so I suppose it made sense. What they did do, however, is give me the week off to sort my life out.

I left the factory sniffling like a baby, packed my shit and got on a plane home. I called my parents to pick me up from the airport, and asked them to take my stuff back to their place but to drop me at the apartment my bf and I shared.

When I entered the flat I had to brace myself. I knew it wasn’t gonna be pretty. My bf was sat on the sofa, surrounded by packed bags and boxes again. Deja vu anyone?

He didn’t yell, or threaten me, or call me names like I thought he would. No, he stood up, and hugged me. And I started crying like a baby. Full on body shaking sobs.

I told him I was sorry, that I loved him, but I understood. He said it was okay.

We sat down together surrounded by the boxes of my things, he made me a coffee, and we talked. It was refreshing to talk to him considering last time he forced me out of the house without a word.

I told him everything, from start to finish. About how neglected and sad I felt after the summer break, how his ghosting was what led me to Charles, how I still really loved him but just didn’t know what I wanted, and how scary it was to have my private life all over the internet like that.

He was sympathetic, but ultimately he said that we just didn’t work together. He wished me luck, I took the cats, got in a taxi, and went home.

Funnily enough, I wasn’t really upset about the whole relationship ending. Mainly because I was just so relieved my ex was handling the whole situation so well. I’ll miss him terribly, he was more than just my boyfriend but he was my best friend too (I am aware of how cliche that sounds).

We had bonded over F1 all those years ago. I was cheering for Sebastian Vettel and he was cheering for Lewis Hamilton while watching a race in a sports bar. We ended up having an argument over who’s driver was better which after a few drinks evolved into us making out in the smoking area. That night I’d told him my dream, to be an engineer, to work for Ferrari. He believed in me, and it’s due to his belief that I managed to get my job. It’s a shame that achieving my dream was the thing that eventually tore us apart.

But anyway, now I’m at home. My parents are out collecting all my things from my ex’s flat right now, and I’ve finally calmed down enough to start typing this out. Mainly because Nemo has decided to curl up in my lap and have a big nap.

Consider my overdue cat tax paid:

When I settled in my room, Charles called me. I nearly didn’t answer it, but I did.

For the sake of his privacy, I’m not going to tell you all of what was said. But I can say that he doesn’t hate me, and if anything, he feels so bad for the situation I ended up in.

I suppose he knows what it’s like to have all that speculation around your personal life 24/7 and can empathise more than most of the people in my life.

I will also say, that we are just friends! That’s all. This isn’t a hallmark movie. He hasn’t hopped on his private jet, flown all the way to my home in bumblefuck nowhere to declare his love for me, and we all live happily ever after.

Real life is a lot more complicated than that. And a lot shittier and a lot more depressing.

I’m going back to Maranello tomorrow morning. I know they gave me the week off, but I’m going to spend some time in the area, maybe even look at getting a proper rental and moving out there full time. I have nothing really to tie me to my home anymore, not really (and yes I will bring the cats with me and pay a cat sitter!)

So yeah, this is my update. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine now, I think! Moving onwards and upwards. One day this will be a funny story I’ll look back on. It isn’t funny now, but it will be.

I do ask, however, that everyone reading this post thinks before they post. I’m a real person, and thanks to all this drama my life is fucked up and I’m now Googling how to emigrate to Italy.

Before you press that button, just consider how it will affect that person, and if it’s really worth it. Sometimes it is, I’ll grant you. But we’re all real people. Those of us in the factories, the TPs, the drivers, everyone. And we have a right to respect and privacy just as any ordinary person does. Think before you post.

I’m signing off now. It’s been a wild ride. Comments will be off, no doubt you’ll be making comments and dissecting my every word on Twitter anyways but at least I don’t have to see em.

I likely won’t update this again.

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March 5th 2023

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite acclimate yourself to the dry heat of Bahrain. Your hair clung to your neck with sweat, and your team polo was already sodden and damp.

You weren’t quite sure if it was just the heat, or the nerves getting to you as the cars begun their formation lap. You fidgeted with the pen in your hand, your eyes firmly transfixed on the screen in front of you as you catch a glimpse of red zooming down the straight.

Lucky for you, things had died down. As the season began, people had the racing to focus on, and your silly little Reddit post had been almost forgotten. You were able to blend into the background, just as you had done that previous year. You were just another engineer hidden amongst a sea of red shirts, and it was nice.

You knew, however, that this peace would be short lived. It was only a matter of time before you were all over social media again, not as the mystery Reddit user anymore, but as Charles Leclerc’s new girlfriend.

You didn’t lie in your post, the two of you hadn’t gotten together on that fateful day. You were just friends. That was until February 14th.

The day of the car reveal, which also happened to coincide with Valentine’s Day. You didn’t mind, of course, after all, you had no plans. You were quite happy to have something else going on to distract you from your tragic love life.

Charles, however, had made plans. After the reveal you went back to his hotel room, where he had organised a fancy dinner with candles and roses. He asked you out then and there, away from the prying eyes of fans or paparazzi.

To you, it was the most romantic gesture anyone could ever make. It was clear he had thought of you, keeping the moment as private as possible to protect you.

He, of course, knew how you felt about him. He didn’t have to worry, he knew you’d say yes. And you did.

You spent the evening drinking wine, chatting, just as you had always done. But one thing was different - after dessert he kissed you.

The kiss was sweet, and it wasn’t just because of the tiramisu he had eaten.

He didn’t want to rush you, he knew that you were still healing from your trauma. But you weren’t so coy.

February 14th marked the first time you had kissed Charles Leclerc, but it also marked the first time the two of you made love.

Since that day, the two of you had kept your relationship a secret. You cooked for one another, or ordered takeout, watched movies, cuddled with the cats, and just enjoyed each other’s company.

It was exactly what you had wanted. A nice, private relationship with the man you had fallen so deeply in love with.

But there was a small niggling feeling in the back of your mind that it was all about to change. If he won this race, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stop the urge to throw yourself into his arms, to kiss him all over, to tell him just how proud you are.

A race winner always deserves a kiss, right?

You chew on your nail as the final cars pull into position, ready for lights out.

Charles had taken pole position that previous day, but you had managed to save your celebrations for later, sneaking over to his hotel room when no one was around and promptly sneaking out early this morning to avoid suspicion.

Lights out - Charles’ reactions are lightning. He manages to keep away from the rest of the grid, allowing the cars behind him to battle for P2.

The Ferrari garage is hopeful, but they know better than to cheer before the race is won. Too many bittersweet moments from the previous season haunted each and every one of them.

All was well, Charles was set for the first win of the season, until a collision at the back of the pack meant that the safety car reared its ugly head.

Max was getting closer and closer to the back of Charles’ car. They weaved behind the safety car, getting ready, preparing for the moment that it would leave the track.

As the car enters the pit lane, the power was in Charles’ hands. He needed to make a good move, surprise Max, get him on the back foot and out of sight.

There were only two laps left. Two laps to victory. Max just had to stay back, and Charles had to race like he’d never raced before.

You chew on your nails anxiously as Charles takes each and every corner, hitting the apex with precision. All that time in the simulator was definitely paying off.

They cross the line for the final lap, Charles was a car’s length ahead, but Max too was pushing hard. He wanted that first win just as much as Charles did. But you told yourself mentally that he wasn’t going to get it. This was Charles’ race, and he was going to stand on that top step of the podium.

The seconds felt like hours. You make eye contact with Vasseur across the garage and he gives you a small smile. A reassuring one, and you smile back. It probably looked more like a grimace but it was the best you could muster.

The final corner passes with ease, and it looks like Charles has hung onto his win. Max is practically driving alongside him as they cross the finish line. No one cheers.

It’s a waiting game, waiting for the photo to see who had crossed the line first.

You bury your head in your hands, unable to think, talk, move or see until the entire garage erupts into cheers.

He had done it! Charles had won the race!

Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you finally look up. You were sobbing, you couldn’t help it. He’d won.

You give every mechanic you see a pat on the back as you walk over to Vasseur. He was smiling brightly at you. He had so much faith in Charles, he loved him like a son.

He embraces you tightly as you cry onto his shoulder, and he whispers ever so quietly “go see him. See your love.”

You didn’t even care to ask how he was able to see right through the two of you. You just pulled away and nodded as you run out of the garage towards parc ferme alongside a sea of red suits and shirts.

You push your way to the front, definitely sure that your tear stained face would be onscreen for the world to see, but you didn’t care. The world had seen worse of you, after all.

When Charles takes off his helmet, your heart skips a beat. He was beautiful, every day he was beautiful. Even when he was still sweaty and breathing heavy from the adrenaline of the race, his face marked with balaclava lines.

He makes a beeline for you, pulling you in for a hug the way friends would hug one another.

“Kiss me.” You say.

“Are you sure, mon amour?” He whispers, and you nod.

Charles captures your lips in a kiss reminiscent of your very first just a few days ago. The cameras were definitely on you, but you didn’t care.

No doubt social media would be going crazy over the whole thing, but it was nothing new to you. At least this time you weren’t just in love with your coworker, but he was in love with you too.

Whatever the internet may have to throw at you, this time, you didn’t have to handle it alone.

—

~ THE END ~

#charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x You #Charles Leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader social media au

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bellysoupset · 6 days

Note

I’d love a story with sick Angie (it doesn’t matter what it is) with the emphasis on Jonah as her caretaker. And I’d love it if you could write about what Jon said in that vertigo fic, were Luke was the only caretaker, about feeling like he doesn’t know Angie.

Hi there! I had a lot of fun typing this up, it's a bit more tender than my usual stuff, since Jonah's is slightly off his element!

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

There were things Jonah knew how to do: read Leo like a book, feel Wendy’s annoyance from across a room, suture a wound with an eye closed. And then there were things that he didn’t…

Currently the issue was understanding what was going through his little sister’s mind.

It hurt to say out loud, but Angie was half family, half stranger. She had been only ten when Jonah left for college, however during five of those ten years they supposedly shared, he had been away in boarding school, coming home only three times a year. In sum, he had truly known Angie only for five of her seventeen years.

It had been a pleasant surprise to learn she didn’t think of him as some stranger, but as her brother, and that she wanted them to be close. Or, as Leo had put, “Jon, she worships you.”

Since Christmas last year, they had been chatting much more frequently and she had come over to Welton at the end of January, staying over at Jonah and Leo’s place for three days.

This time around she was supposed to stay all week, which Jon was equally nervous and excited about.

“I’m the one who should be nervous,” Leo had joked as they drove to pick Angie up at the airport, “not you.”

However Jonah was nervous, because despite never wanting to say this out loud — and not needing to, Leo knew it already — he was terribly invested into making this new relationship work out.

Normally Angelina was a bubbly, chatty teenager, never quite managing to contain her excitement. During her last visit, she had pestered JD so much that the cat had all but vanished during her last day over, hiding in Leo’s side of the closet.

Tonight she was sullen and Jonah was nearly crawling up the wall trying to figure out what had changed.

After picking her up at the airport, they had opted for having dinner in Portland instead of doing the full one hour and a half drive back to Welton without eating. Dinner had gone smoothly, Angie was a little quieter than usual, but Jonah had jolted this as her giving Leo time to gush about the proposal, something she seemed very interested in. Her whole face had lit up as she saw the engagement ring and she had pushed her chair closer in order to inspect it, pulling Leo into a hug that had the blonde’s face turning beet red, much to Jon’s amusement.

The drive back had been even more quiet.

“Why don’t you connect your phone with the radio, Angie?” Leo asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was mortified of getting carsick in front of his future sister-in-law, so he had insisted on driving both ways, “pick some music for the ride.”

“No, it’s fine…” Angelina answered, curling up on the backseat, “I think I’m just gonna nap, if you don’t mind…”

“No, that’s alright,” Jonah turned on the passenger seat, “there must be a neck pillow stuffed behind my seat, is it there?”

“Yeah,” she retrieved it and kicked off her sneakers, spreading out in the back, “thanks, Jon.”

He turned back to face the road. Something was off and he wasn’t sure what.

“Relax,” Leo poked his side, a couple minutes later, whispering, “chill.”

“I am chill,” Jonah lied, not putting any effort behind it and once again looking over his shoulder, to where his sister had curled up in the backseat.

They got home without a hitch, Leo had put on one of his ultra romantic songs and was drumming along with Michael Bolton’s Missing You Now, much to Jonah’s eternal amusement. His fiance couldn’t keep up with the beat if they paid him.

“Baby I just can't wait! Till I see your face,” Leo leaned in to sing to him, as they parked, a cheeky smile on his face, “chase awaaay this loneliness insideee!”

Jonah snorted, shutting him up with a kiss, “oh God, shut up, Leo,” his cheeks heated up as the song ended and the initial lyrics of the When A Man Loves a Woman started playing, Leo getting ready to serenade him, pointing at Jon’s chest as he said, “When a man loves a woman. Can't keep his mind on nothin'else-”

“Leeeeo,” Jonah groaned, pushing his door open, but not getting out. Instead he turned on his seat to shake Angelina awake. He half expected her to be awake and giggling at the whisper concert Leo was making, but no, she was still sleeping soundly, “Angie. Angie, we’re here.”

It took him shaking her once more, before she woke up, looking completely lost for a minute.

“Where-”

“Let’s go inside so you can sleep in a proper bed,” Jonah circled the car, helping her out and raised his eyebrows, letting out a surprised noise when Angie collapsed against him and made no movement to pull away. He hesitantly lowered his arms around her in a makeshift hug, unsure of what to do.

Leo grinned at him, getting out of the car as well and going to retrieve Angie’s bags.

She barely let go of him, putting only enough distance that they were able to walk to the elevator, but snuggled back once they were inside. Jonah felt like his face was tingling and he couldn’t bring himself to meet Leo’s eyes, extremely embarrassed.

This time around, Angelina paid no mind to JD. The cat came running to greet them at the door, only to stop once she saw the girl and sniffling her suspiciously, serpentining between Angie’s legs and settling for meowing at Leo’s feet as if asking who this was.

Jonah fully expected his sister to grab JD like she had done last time, but instead she only yawned and waited patiently as he guided her to the guest room.

“You know where’s everything, right?” Jonah hung awkwardly at the door, once Leo put the bag inside and Angie sat down on the bed. She yawned again, nodding.

“Yeah…”

“There’s extra towels in the bathroom if you feel like taking a shower,” Jonah grimaced at his inability to sound as warm as he was supposed to, “and you don’t have to ask to go through the fridge…”

“I’m fine, Jon, thank you,” Angelina dismissed him easily, “I think I’m just gonna sleep, though.”

“Okay…” he glanced at the television, “there’s Netflix and Prime and Max-”

“Jon,” Leo grabbed his elbow, chuckling, “let the girl sleep. Goodnight Ange.”

“Goodnight,” Angie smiled at them, clearly agreeing with Leo and Jonah sighed, relenting and allowing the blonde to pull him out of the guest bedroom.

“It’s only nine o’clock,” Jonah complained as they entered their own bedroom, Leo already ahead of him in the bathroom, stripping for a shower. They were both still in work clothes, “what type of teenager falls asleep at nine?”

“Your sister’s type,” Leo shrugged, getting under the shower stream, “relax Jon, she’s probably just tired after the flight.”

Jonah didn’t quite believe that.

They ended up going to bed around eleven, so Jon was surprised when he woke up at only 6 AM, an hour before his alarm. He wasn’t sure why he was up. It was a Thursday, which meant Leo had court and would start working later, but would also be held up until whatever hour. The blonde was passed out next to him, head buried in the pillow.

Jon’s shift only started at 9…

He yawned, rubbing a hand over his face and getting up to pee. He was getting back in bed, when a noise down the hall caught his attention. Something falling?

It wasn’t JD, because the cat was happily asleep on Leo’s side.

Jonah got out of the bed to investigate and wasn’t surprised when he found the guest bedroom door open, or the guest bathroom door closed. He knocked on it softly, “Angie, you alright? I heard something falling…”

“Urgh…” was the pitiful answer he got, “Jon…”

Well, shit.

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously, biting the skin of his thumb, “Angie?”

“Hmmm…yeah…”

Jonah didn’t wait for an answer and pushed the door open.

Angelina was really skinny with long limbs, like a model, and currently she was folded like an origami project in front of the toilet. Her rich, dark skin looked damn near ashen, and she had a trembling hand on the porcelain, the other pressing to her lips.

“Don’t… I don’t feel good…”

“Oh darling,” Jonah sighed, feeling a selfish wave of relief wash over him at finally being able to pinpoint what was wrong and that it wasn’t him. He crouched down, “have you been sick yet?”

Angie shook her head, gulping down, “soon…” she leaned in, squeezing her eyes shut, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- To-” she got interrupted by a hiccup and Jonah scoffed, scooting closer so he could rub her back.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all right,” he cringed as he realized her really long, curly hair was getting near her mouth. They didn’t have a single scrunchie in their place.

At Bella’s advice, or rather, order, they had stocked the guest bathroom with pads, just in case — that had been an interesting little grocery trip, given neither of them had any idea of what they were doing and Leo looked positively mortified —, but the ginger hadn’t said anything about hair ties.

“Jon-” Angie whined, oblivious to his thoughts and leaning further over the toilet. Another sick hiccup shook her entire frame, this one turning into a gag at the end and Jonah cringed as he saw clear saliva hit the water.

“You’re okay,” he carefully pulled his sister’s hair back with one hand, the other staying firmly on her back, “just get it up, don’t fight it-”

She retched once more, before getting up to her knees, and burying her head in the bowl as vomit gushed out. The movement was so sudden that Jonah had to move as well, so he wouldn’t pull on her hair.

He gagged as he heard the horrible noise of his sister bringing up last night’s dinner, his stomach souring considerably as she pulled back, clumsily trying to flush, with vomit clinging to her bottom lip still.

“God-” Jonah pulled back the hand that was on her back, slapping it over his lips and biting down a retch of his own. Angelina let out a little hurt noise, much like JD did when they accidentally tripped on her.

“I’m sorry-” his voice came out husky, “shit, Angie, I’m sorry-”

“You’re sick too?” she managed to flush and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, causing Jonah to gag once more. He shook his head, gulping convulsively to keep his stomach in check.

He was so used to Leo, that someone else puking around him was news to his body. The routine was different, the noises too. Worse.

“No, I just-” Jonah cleared his throat, “I get sympathy sick.”

“Oh,” Angie’s big chocolate eyes were dazed and he suspected she was burning up a fever, “I’m sor-”

“Are you done?”

“I dunno,” she rubbed her stomach, uneasily, “don’t wanna risk going to bed and- And getting sick…”

“We can sit on the couch and watch TV,” Jonah offered, getting up to grab her a glass of water and Angie took it with her hands shaking. Jon took advantage of the fact her hands were busy, in order to feel his sister’s forehead.

Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch or pull back at the sudden touch, leaning completely on it. She was really warm.

“Not a high fever, but a fever,” he pulled back after a second, as Angie gulped down the water and hung over the toilet once more, letting out a sickly burp, “you’ll be okay on your own for a second?”

“Uh-hu,” she nodded, gagging but not bringing up anything. Jonah rushed out before his stomach decided to join the party as well.

He put together a little nest in the living room, grabbing her a set of blankets and a pillow, a bowl, meds, water and thermometer. After a couple minutes he heard the bathroom flush and the tap running, Angelina brushing her teeth, then she stumbled in the living room.

“Come lie down,” he pulled her to the couch, unsure of what she liked when sick. To be left alone or dotted on? So far the dotting was proving successful, but Jon was scared at any minute she’d snap at him. Or worse, cry.

Instead of doing either, Angelina curled up on the little nest he had created for her, tugging on his arm so he’d sit alongside her and then scooting up, resting her pillow half on his leg, “I feel horrible, Jon…”

“I’m sorry, darling,” the nickname slipped out, as he stroked her hair back and Jonah froze for a second, but Angie didn’t seem bothered in the least. In fact, she cuddled up even more, turning on her side and shivering, “I need to take your temperature,” he said, leaning to grab the thermometer and passing it to her.

He was genuinely surprised by how easy of a patient Angie was, after dealing with Leo and their friends for years now. They were a crew of stubborn people, while his baby sister seemed to be the most docile person ever.

She took the thermometer without complaining and didn’t whine when he fed her medicine, barely paid any attention to the television, seeming content just cuddling and shivering like hell, no matter how many blankets she had.

“Jon,” Leo woke him up, pressing a kiss to his temple, and Jonah realized he had drifted back to sleep with Angie’s head resting on his lap. It was hard not to feel sleepy when she was a little furnace, “you okay?”

“Uhm?” he rubbed his eyes and frowned. Leo was almost finished dressing for the day, which meant it was nearly 9 already. His tie wasn’t done and Leo was holding a coffee mug.

“What happened…?” Leo gestured to their current situation and Jonah darted out a hand, so his fiance could help him slip from under Angie without waking her up. The young girl only stirred, grimacing and curling up even more.

“Woke up with her throwing up at 6 AM,” Jonah whispered, following Leo to the kitchen and sitting by the counter, while the blonde got the coffee maker working, “I’m gonna have to call in sick at work.”

He wasn’t happy about that, Jon was on a quest to not miss any more work days, since he’d take the month off for honeymoon, probably at the end of the year or as soon as they stopped to settle on a bloody date.

“I’ll do it for you,” Leo planted a mug of coffee in front of him, squeezing Jonah’s shoulder, “should I worry?”

“No,” Jonah yawned, leaning to rest his head on Leo’s shoulder, “she’s alright, it’s just a 24 hour bug.”

“I don’t like this,” Leo sighed, “I’m going to be offline all day, I have no way of knowing-”

“I’m the doctor,” Jonah said smugly, grabbing the blonde’s chin, “I can handle one sick teenager. Relax.”

“Look who’s talking,” Leo smiled at him, rolling his eyes, “text me updates anyway, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Jon’s tone was sassy, but he meant it. He yawned in his fist, pulling Leo closer by his tie and starting to do the knot for him, “you’re gonna be back for dinner?”

“I’ll try to,” Leo wrinkled his nose, “but I doubt. You think she’d like balloons? Popsicles?”

“She’s seventeen, not five,” Jonah snorted, lifting himself up on his seat enough to kiss him, “bring us something yummy for dessert.”

Once Leo had left, promising he’d not forget to call the hospital to let them know of Jonah's absence, Jon had nothing but time to dedicate to his sister. It was so weird.

He took a shower to get ready for the day and fixed her up with some soup — well, ordered some soup —, then crouched down in front of the couch, pushing a curl away from her forehead, “Angie. Ange,” he shook her gently, “Angelina.”

“Uhhm?” She still had a fever, he could tell. The previous round of meds had lowered it, but not eradicated it, “what time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he helped her sit up, “how’s your tum- stomach?” he was going to kill Leo.

Angie frowned, yawning, “sore. Kinda queasy,” she blushed, “did you say tummy?”

“No,” Jonah scoffed, sitting on the foot of the couch, “I got you some soup, think you can handle it?”

She hesitated, before nodding. Jonah eagerly shot up, he hadn’t been expecting a positive answer, and put everything on a tray, the soup, bread, some water and juice because he didn’t know what she preferred…

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your favorite flavor, so I just ordered mine,” Jon grimaced, settling the tray down on Angie’s lap.

She squinted at it, “is it pumpkin?”

“Yeah, and some chia seeds,” Jonah looked away, “Leo hates it, so we have plain tomato soup if you do too-”

“No,” Angelina shook her head, “I like it. My favorite is onion cream, just so you know,” she curled up her feet, in an invitation for him to sit closer and stirred the warm meal, “but I don’t think I could handle it right now.”

“I don’t think so either,” Jonah mentally stashed the information in his growing file of facts about his sister. So far he knew she really loved anything artsy, that she was attracted to Wendy’s colorful clothes and style like a butterfly to a flower, that she adored cats and that she got quiet and withdrawn when sick, “uh- Do you like popsicles…?”

Angie giggled, rolling her eyes, “doesn’t everyone?”

Well shit, he’d have to apologize to Leo.

“I don’t,” Jon shrugged and she frowned, starting to eat very slowly.

“Are you a robot?” Angelina inspected him up and down, “no type of popsicles?”

“I’m partial to gelato,” Jon shrugged, “or frozen yogurt.”

She shook her head in a tired manner, reaching for the juice instead of the water, “you’re so very weird, Jon…” then she frowned, blinking slowly as if trying to process some information, “don’t you have work today?”

Originally, Angie had planned to visit the museums and the university, that was the guise behind her visit. At least to Jonah it was, he was pretty sure she had openly told Leo she just wanted to visit them.

“I called in sick,” Jon pointed at her bowl, “staying down?”

“Yeah,” she yawned, “but it’s a lot.”

“You don’t have to eat all of it. Get as much as you want, then we can watch something or you can go back to sleep-”

“Can we go out to the park? With JD?”

He paused, “aren’t you sick?”

“I’m not dying,” Angie pouted, “and I already won’t be able to do everything I had planned so…”

“Yeah, uh- Sure. I don’t know where Leo keeps her leash, he’s the one who walks her, I just- I have to look…” He felt so incredibly out of place, “yeah, lemme go look-”

JD let out an indignant meow at being trapped in her leash and swatted at his hand with all little kitty force, trying to draw blood. Jonah sighed, scratching the kitten behind her ears, “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna take one for the team and be a good kitty.”

The cat didn't feel like being nice and once they got outside, walking to one of the benches since Angie got breathless not even five minutes after they left, JD simply crawled up Jon’s lap and tried to hide in his coat.

“She’s not outdoorsy at all, is she?” Angie grinned, leaning on his shoulder and trying to pet the animal, JD pointedly ignoring her. Jonah shrugged, leaning back and enjoying the fresh air.

“She’s a bit of a prick just like me,” he answered truthfully, hissing as he felt JD’s claws sink through his sweater, “she’ll get used to you.”

“I hope so,” Angie sighed, leaning against his side and resting her face on his shoulder, uninvited. She was so… Tactile. Clingy, even. Jonah pressed his cheek to the top of her head, “I hope she’ll grow to love having me around.”

He had the distinct feeling she was no longer talking about the cat. Jonah rolled his eyes, kissing the top of Angie’s head, “I’m certain she will, darling.”

#sickfic #fever #emeto #mywriting #angelina banks #LOTS of jon/leo in this one

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antiwhores · 2 years

Note

Hello is it ok if I can please request headcannons for when bakugo slowly falls in love with fem reader

Bakugou slowly falling in love with reader.

Gotchu bruh, enjoy. I got somethin wrong with my stomach btw yall. Shit hurs.

Minor bullying, smut, fluff, pure love, unedited.

You both started out as aquantences.

He didn’t know you, you were an extra in his everday middle school life. But he knew you existed by the end of the year.

He didn’t really bully you; you weren’t one of Deku’s friends nor were you necessarily a loser. You had your own small friendgroup that you chilled with.

He started to really notice you in the last year of middle school.

You started to get braver with the people around you and speak to them.

So you were fairly well known.

Still not significant to him though.

You got paired with a couple of prodjects with him since your desks were near each other so he was forced to talk to you.

No matter how rude he was to you, you were calmed though. You never cried, never went into a fit of rage, never took serious offense, nothing.

It was weird as hell.

“You’re so fucking dumb. No wonder no one likes you.” He would utter at the smallest mistake. You’d not even bat an eye as you hummed to his conclusion. “Im very well liked. Also, im more of an average smarts type of person.” Then you would proceed to rant on about your grades and your academic record. He would give up.

He started to take his bullying a step up, he needed to see a reaction for some reason.

He dumped your pencil bag on the floor as his friends laughed in the background. “Oops, your fatass pencil case got in my way. Better pick it up now, asshat.” His tone was laced with a condescending tone, yet you would only glance at him briefly before continuing your work. He clicked his tongue, “Hey! Im talking to you!” He grabbed you by your hoodie and dragged you out of youe seat. Your expression never faltered as you looked into his angry eyes. “You looking down on me?!” You blinked at him, “No, I just don’t feel like picking ‘em up right now. I forgot to do my homework last night and now I have to speedrun it ‘cause if my grade drops again I’ll be in the ground.”

He slams you into your locker, “Gimme some money twerp, I need a drink.” You pull the inside of your pockets out to show you have nothing. “I’m broke, not a single cent to my name right now. I blew it all on shit on Amazon. I bought a book about a girl who eats cactus, 100 mini corgscrews, a variety pack of European candy, magnesium, a snow cone making machine, an old fashioned compass, a bike horn that makes that clown noise, a vibrating back massager, 4 pounds of chunky water-“ “ALRIGHT SHUT THE HELL UP DAMN!”

This constant cycle goes on until the end of the year.

You both are working on a project together when you look up at him. “You’re going to UA right?” He perks up at that, “Of course I am, whats it to you?” You twirl your pencil, “Same, omg twin.” “WHAT?!”

Turns out you were auditioning for the support course. Bakugou is less than pleased about this. He still finds your nonchalant attitude annoying, giving you the name Corpse to bitch about your unresponsivness, but you’re growinf on him. He’ll never admit that though.

In the first couple weeks of school you both dont talk much. Mostly cause he doesn’t want to.

One day you just sit at his lunch table and start eating like its nothing.

“What the fuck do you want Corpse?” “We’re gonna be working together soon. Thought I’d touch the cold water before diving right in.”

The project is when he starts to notice the little things about you.

His friends always mention how pretty you are, hes starting to recognize that too.

You smell good, like honey and mint mized together to make a sweet concoction that could get him drunk.

You were very observent. You noticed his small habits and connected them to bigger ones. This is how you learned to be cool with him.

Your eyebrows would furrow slightly when something didnt make sense.

He hated how much he was paying attention.

By the second year he could call you his friend (in his mind of course) without denying it or acting disgusted.

You started to become friends with his friends and they invited you to hang out with them whenever the chance arose.

You sat at the same table as him, always sitting next to him.

You would sometimes just come into his room just to chill. He’d complain but he secretly didn’t mind. You never snooped, you just chilled.

You started to talk more and show more emotion around him. He would see more emotion than he’s ever saw in you. A laugh that would make him blush red, an occasional flirty tone, eurphoria whenever anything super good happened, etc. This only happened in private though. Never with other people.

He started to develope a crush on you.

You were a touchy person and he was used to that. But all of a sudden the hand touches to ground him or the leaning in to see what he was doing started to make his heart beat so fast.

He wrote it off as allergies and mindless lust until the 3rd year when he couldn’t take it anymore.

Thats when he finally confessed. And you accepted with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek.

Dating came naturally to you too. You were happy in eachothers presences and you both could handle each other the way no one else could.

He wouldn’t really show any steamy affection until your 3rd year at UA. You got kisses eventually and cuddles. You also got hugs and make out sessions.

By the 3rd year he just couldnt take having to palm himself to pictures of you anymore.

He then finally got the courage to initiate freaky shit.

At first he resided with just humping you until he came in ropes into his pants. Then he started to feel your titties and grope you with clothes on. Then he would let you palm him and jerk him off until he splattered all over your hand. And then after long debate, he was allowed to touch you too. Then came the oral pleasure. Then the clothes came all the way off and they mixed it all together. And then FINALLY you two had mindblowing sex.

After that he realized his favorite food was you and vice versa.

By the beginning of 4th year you two were attached at the hip.

You showed him everything, he knew everything about you and vice versa.

You two were madly in love. Nothing could stop that.

By the time you both were out of school he was ready to marry you. He couldn’t see himself with anyone else.

And he finally did it about 2 or 3 years after school.

You said yes, of course.

The wedding was themed a mixture or his favorite color and yours.

And the rest is a blur, a blur spotted with hearts and stars until they both passed away together at an old age.

#mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugou thirst #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha smut

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 7 months

Note

Hi there...I understand you're taking requests 👀. Could I please get an Ashton Irwin x reader friends to lovers? Maybe he confesses his feelings to reader who feels the same but doesn't think they should be together because he has to go on tour (distance). But they end up together with some smut. I hope you can write this one, if not I understand. Thanks so much 😊

Hi, thanks for dropping a request. I hope you enjoy it doesn't get steamy, if I'm honest. I hope that's okay. If it's a problem, please let me know!

Requests are open briefly until the 24th. Any NSFW content (smut, etc) must be requested off anon to ensure no minors (those 17 and below) are requesting the content.

Feel free to look through my masterlist for more. You can submit a request through my asks.

________________________________

It’s a tradition, one that you’d personally be damned in trying to pinpoint when it had grown into such. But lack of clarity on its inception doesn’t undermine the tradition that brings you here, two nights before the tour sitting across from Ashton. He’s giggling at his own story, napkin clutched into one of his hands. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing at it as well. You and Ashton are always here two nights before any tour with dinner. Whether he cooks, or you cook, or you eat out--it doesn’t matter. The two of you make sure to set time aside for each other regardless.

“I’m so serious,” Ashton giggles. “Guy straight up offered fifty bucks for the t-shirt I was literally wearing. Right off my back.”

“The real question,” you start, setting your bottle down after your sip, “is did you actually give this rando your shirt off your back for fifty bucks?”

Ashton’s smile changes, the bright honey curve of his lips morphs into something softer and more mischievous. “I got a good lunch afterwards though.”

“Ashton!” you scold, tufts of laughter bubbling from your chest. You know the possibility always exists with Ashton. It would be hard to imagine that he wouldn’t do something just for the story of it.

“I didn’t take the cash! But he treated me to lunch, since I did sort of give him the shirt off my back.”

“You didn’t sort of do anything,” you huff, finishing off the last pieces of your food. Ashton’s plate sits with just another bite or two of the pasta. Somehow the food’s gone faster than you two have even calculated for, but that won’t stop you. With the settling evening, Ashton’s backyard is a comfortable solace, a nice place to rest for a little.

“Guilty as charged,” Ashton returns. He scrapes up the last of his food as the conversation lulls for a moment. He watches though, the way you stare up and behind him, like your mind’s taken you to places behind the court of his house. “But how’s work? For you?”

You’d asked Ashton how his life was going and it sent him spiraling. He can go a mile a minute but he’s never far from always checking in on you. You shrug at Ashton’s question. Your life has fallen a little mundane though your work is anything but.

You’d fallen into Ashton’s world when he frequented the record shop you worked out in the last year of your master’s program. You needed the cash on the side. Though the days were long between school, work, and homework, you found a little slice of quiet in that shop. It was a local gem, hidden in the debris of a crumbling shopping center. But locals knew the record shop well and would take the hike to unearth the treasure.

Ashton was one of those locals. He spotted you as you placed prices on new arrivals and asked if anything specific came in worth looking for. You shrugged in response, but lifted out some limited edition vinyls with a yawn. You’re not sure what joke you made specifically, but it was enough. Ashton laughed like his life depended on it and more and more he came into the shop. You two exchanged names, then numbers, growing closer and closer as time passed. In just a year, you could tell that Ashton was going to be someone important in your life. You’d never imagine the scale, and still can’t. But you told yourself even if Ashton was there for a season it would be spring and bring forth all sorts of new life.

Now, you’re four and half years into your friendship and it still grows and grows. You’ve left the record shop, settling into talent management and running in leagues adjacent to Ashton’s. It’s not the most glamorous job on the planet, but it pays the bills. The only downside to the field is that drama from others becomes your drama just by association. You have to get in the dirt sometimes as much as you definitely didn’t want to. And Ashton knows how much you dislike some of the aspects of your job.

“Is that a shrug that means same old, same old? Or is that a shrug that means big shit?” Ashton questions. “I’d hazard a guess closer to the latter.”

“You win another year of friendship,” you laugh, finally focusing your gaze back on Ashton. His honey eyes are melting with concern as he gazes up at you. It makes your stomach flutter and you hate the feeling. Hate that the two of you were always dancing.

“I wasn’t worried for a second about that. You’re stuck with me. It’s in the contract.”

“I signed no such thing,” you tease. “I need to see that one.”

“It’s written in invisible ink,” Ashton snorts. “But seriously, what’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just a mess.” You’re not supposed to get into specifics, but it’s never once stopped you when it came to Ashton. “It’s sensitive information really and not something I want to spread around even if it’s to safe ears.”

Ashton nods. “I’m sure you see and hear a lot of shit.” He knows you’re working specifically with someone up and coming. They’re young and if Ashton knows anything from his younger years, it’s that trouble comes with freedom and excitement. Some mistakes though just need to be learned the hard way. So Ashton assumes it’s something big for you to even keep it quiet.

“Too much shit. We’re talking with lawyers,” you divulge.

Ashton whistles. He’s no stranger to lawyers but he knows that when they get into the mix it gets messy fast. But they aren’t there for no reason, no little reason that is. “Fuck. Is this like…criminal?”

You shake your head. “It’s technically a civil matter but it could easily get criminal with my client’s hothead.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Ashton comments. Once before the two of you were catching up over lunch and your phone rang. Not the first time Ashton’s been inside a police station but it is the first time he’s been in one where he thought a crime might happen right next to an officer. To say he thought you could spit fire that day is not eloquent enough for your rage. “Well, I hope it doesn't get criminal. I know it’s gotta be a nightmare for you though. You’ve only been working with them for what? 6 months?”

“Eight,” you correct, “but it’s not long enough to be dealing with lawyers on a first name basis.”

Ashton reclines into his seat, arms folded over his chest. You rest your cheek against the flat of your knuckles, elbows resting on the table. Though you’re smiling, Ashton knows just how unamused you are at the situation. “How long have you been dealing with this situation?”

“Two months? Maybe a little less, but like we’re about to get the two month mark.”

“God damn.”

You can only nod, a hum leaving your throat. “Yeah, but that’s boring and a buzzkill.”

Ashton doesn’t miss the way you spin the bottle of alcohol free beer in a circle. He laughs but nods. “Fine, fine. Want another?”

“No, no, I’m good. You excited for this tour?” Ashton hadn’t talked it about in the same way he had the others. He adored what he was doing. He spoke passionately about the tour. But you were fuzzy on some details. Normally, he was brimming with every twist and turn the tour had. He’d trip over himself to tell you. You hate to think it was somehow a sign--that maybe Ashton’s retracting.

Ashton’s nod is fast and hard. You watch him, eyes dropping from you to the green glass bottle in his hands. “I’m very excited. But I don’t want to spoil it,” he offers. It’s soft and you think that the words are somehow going to crumble onto his lap.

“What do you mean spoil it?” you question. You don’t want to start pointing fingers and claiming that he’s not telling you things like before. You don’t want Ashton to go onto the defense.

“I-it’s so silly,” he laughs.

“No, I’m sure it’s not silly,” you offer.

“But it is. I just-I kind of want you just to see it without me telling you anything about it beforehand. I know I normally tell you everything but this time I just want this to be a surprise.”

“Want me to go in blind, Irwin? Trying to give me a heart attack? I’m supposed to have insider knowledge, you know?”

He smiles again. For that, you’re grateful. “No, you do. I’m sure you have more than enough insider knowledge. I just--” His words fall short. He loves telling you everything. God, Ashton loves sharing his world with you. It makes him smile to see you smile. He wants to be there, when he can be, for you. When he can’t be, he wants to know that he’s still one of the first people you call even through the distance. And he does know it. When you got offered a position with the management company, you called Ashton mere minutes after the email came through. When Ashton nailed a drumline, he’d ensure you got to hear the initial take or two.

But there’s something different about this--he wants to watch you when everything comes unraveled. It’s unlike anything else they’ve done. He wants the show to keep some of its magic. That and he wants to keep an excuse to see you again. You visit during the hometown shown normally and you still plan to this time. But he’s hoping to convince you to visit at least one other show too. Because no two shows are exactly alike.

“Are you sure you can only make it to the LA show?” Ashton questions, finally looking up at you.

You pause, nails picking at the label and the label scrunches just a little with your work. “I might be in Dallas too.”

“Really? You mean that, no bullshit?”

You shrug, your own lips failing to hold back your smile. Ashton catches on though and pushes up in his seat. His plate scratches over the top of the table as his forearms move it to the side. Your skin warms. It’s not embarrassment, it’s not even fear or shyness. You just feel alive in a way that only Ashton seems to make possible. You hold up your hands to slow his roll before it’s begun. “I’m supposed to be working the night before but I extended my stay by a couple days.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take it easily.” Ashton reaches for your hands. Your palms are softer to the touch and it’s not lost on Ashton how the hairs on his arm stand up at your touch--electric in ways that he’s sure he can’t be alone in. When he looks up through his lashes, your gaze is dropped down to your intertwined fingers. Your fingers stroke gently over the top of his hands, over his knuckles.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease softly.

“I’ll have you know that I don’t care,” Ashton hums. His bones are melting at your touch.

“You all packed up yet?” Ashton’s not necessarily a last minute packer, but he does occasionally cut it down to the wire. More than one of your pre-tour dinners has ended with Ashton needing to pack up his suitcase. It almost feels like it wouldn’t be a tradition without that fact.

Ashton shakes his head, tracing the veins on the top of your hands now. It’s a dance, your hands trading who leads and who waits. “Stylist got the show outfits last week. Everything else is sitting around the suitcase waiting for your magic touch.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh. “You taught me how to pack!”

“And I must say I may be one heck of a teacher, but I swear I almost miss something without you.” He pouts at you, lower lip rolling out.

You roll your eyes but tap at Ashton’s forearms. “You clean up the dishes and get me another beer and I’ll get started.” You’d cooked over at Ashton’s place. Your apartment doesn't have the appropriate kitchen space and you hate how cramped it can feel, so Ashton offered up his place.

Ashton squeezes at your forearms in response, “Thank you. Dishes will be squeaky clean.”

It’s all the two of you need before you push away from the table, plates and bottles in hand, and carry on back inside of the house. The floors are cool against your feet and the house echoes in a way that lets you know all is silent. Ashton most often keeps music playing, saying it makes the place feel lived in. You’re not sure how it can’t feel lived in. Ashton’s couch is covered in blankets, walls lined with plaques and photographs. The living room is a bit echoey as it opens up into the kitchen more directly, but there’s plenty of life, if anyone was to ask you.

You set your dishes on the counter next to the sink, listening to the click of the ceramic meeting the marble. “One of these days you’re going to have to pack yourself,” you tease.

Ashton closes the door to the fridge with his hip, holding two bottles in hand. “Don’t you dare say that. You’ll always be my pack checker.” He wants to say more, wants to say the reason you’ll always be there is because you’ll be with him. Forever might be a scary concept, but he wants to see what that could look like with you. Though if Ashton puts anything more than friends out there and you shoot him down, it’ll shatter him.

He’d recover, he knows. But it’s selfish. He’d rather not have to lose you or hurt himself like that.

“Hmm, my tax might get higher,” you tease, sliding the bottle opener off the counter.

“I’d pay it in a heartbeat,” Ashton huffs. And as the two of you get closer, you reaching for the bottle, Ashton wishes he’d just be more direct. He really ought too. He wants to tell you but also worries that it might break everything.

You work loose the top to both bottles. “That’s a lot of game, Irwin. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

“Promise, I can.”

Only a hum leaves your throat before your sip pauses you. “I’ll be upstairs packing your suitcase.”

“Thank you!” he calls out as you push towards the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, just pay up, Irwin.”

Ashton watches your exit, the stairs taking you further and further from sight. It feels like it’s bubbling up his chest. All the words he’s held onto for years. But if he’s going to be honest, this might be the most selfish thing he’s going to embark on.

You sigh as you enter Ashton’s bedroom. His closet door is open, suitcase splayed on the floor. Inside of the case, you can see his toiletry bag, clothes stacked neatly inside and a couple pairs of shoes on the floor outside the cas. You assume this is all the stuff he’s taking with him on tour. It’s a scene you're familiar with, having grown fond of the ritual as well.

You can’t shake the soft echo of Ashton’s voice earlier, I’ll take it.

It’s eating away at your tongue. What will Ashton take? It certainly couldn’t be just one extra show you’d catch. It certainly wasn’t that. But there was something desperate and earnest in his voice. You think it might mean more. You want it to mean more. The crush on Ashton started slow, so slow you almost can’t pinpoint when it surfaced. But you know it had surfaced.

You longed for his touch and when he was around, you felt like everything made sense. Even if it didn’t actually make sense, there’s a sense of comfort in his presence that slows your racing mind. You don’t have butterflies, but it’s a warm feeling buzzing beneath your skin. A kind of calm that cuts through the noise.

Ashton could have his pick of whomever. It’s a fact made possible by his occupation and his good looks help too. Yet, you’ve noticed a decreasing lack of conversation surrounding relationships. You weren’t sure if he was looking less for them or if he was just keeping that information from you out of respect. You never hated that he talked about other women. You’d sort of grown accustomed to that topic, having talked Ashton off many ledges about love in the midst of drama, familial trauma with relationships, and his own stubbornness.

You’re not less of a suspect about the topic either. You stopped talking so much about your own love life with Ashton as well. Part of it due to its slow death. With work and your crush on Ashton you sort of resigned yourself to a state of limbo--temporarily at least. You know you can’t linger on this crush and unknown forever. But you hadn’t been so bold as to bring it up before.

Perhaps, it was time to breach that line again.

The clack of Ashton’s slippers on his floors lets you know he’s moving up the stairs and closer to the bedroom. You keep your focus on the tuck of his jeans into the bottom of the suitcase. Your heart races though, the closer and closer Ashton gets.

Would you really bring up this conversation now? Two days before tour? It was beyond shitty timing. Yet, opportunity feels like it’s slipping through your fingers if you don’t make a move now. Like if you don’t say something now you won’t say something ever. You’ll resign yourself to swallowing back down everything you’ve been brewing over in the ten minutes you’ve had apart from Ashton.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Ashton teases, slipping out of his house shoes. His descent beside you on the floor is a little slow and he groans just a hair as he gets down.

“Bad knees,” you return with a laugh, taking a shirt from the pile to fold and roll.

“You’re a fucking comedian,” Ashton huffs. He takes another one of his shirts and is acutely aware that he should probably handle his undergarments to spare you.

It falls quiet around the two of you. You’re focused now on folding, rolling, tucking into luggage. You run your fingers over the items. “Got enough bottoms? I’m not sure how often you’ll be near a washer and dryer.”

“We find ways,” Ashton laughs. “Also I’m counting the pants I’m wearing on the first flight, so yeah, I’m good.”

“PJ’s?”

“A couple sets to swap out,” Ashton answers, lifting up to display some shorts and t-shirts beneath his normal attire.

“Space for souvenirs?”

Ashton laughs. “Take me for a rookie, baby?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” It falls quiet again. The scruff’s grown thicker and now might be enough to constitute a beard. “Going to let the beard grow out or shave it?”

Ashton shrugs. “I’ve got some shaving stuff packed just in case I choose otherwise. It’ll only need a couple days to grow back,” he laughs.

Now, as the two of you lock gazes, you see something swimming in Ashton’s eyes. His brows are pulled together. “Everything okay?” you ask. Though the two of you are separated by a suitcase, you still inch closer.

“Can-can I ask you something?”

You nod. “Anything.” And it’s so easy to say that. Because you mean it. Ashton can ask you anything and you’ll answer it. But you’re not even thinking what that might mean to someone else until Ashton’s stumbling over his own words. A man normally so confident, worrying his lips over and over with his teeth.

“I just--I know we’ve been friends for a while and with the tour coming up so soon, I’m not sure this is even fair to ask now.” Ashton pauses. He wants to take the knot of your brows as rejection but he watches for a moment longer and the pieces are clicking. Your eyes narrow, then widen like the bulb might’ve just gone off even before he’s gotten all the words out. “I don’t-I don’t want to ruin anything! I just need to ask.”

The possibility you hadn’t fully wanted to let yourself consider seems to be crash landing into your lip. If you’d conjured up this moment, you were afraid that you’d give it too much weight and care about it a bit too much. You worried that if you did open the door it would slam close, so you let yourself just think, but never dream.

“Ashton, I’m going to ask this because I just need it explicit. What are you asking?”

A beat. Then two.

Ashton moves the suitcase top up and over to shut the half packed suitcase close. He moves closer to you, taking your hands. “I want to ask if I should ask for a romantic relationship with you if the answer might be yes? I-I know we have a lot to work out and I’m gone for 4 months in two days. But, god, I had to ask. I have to ask.”

There’s a lot of unknowns. It’s jumping off the deep end. But the things you do know is that you and Ashton have had years. That surely had to count for something. “It-it could be.” The words make your own teeth chatter for a second. Your guts hurt at the thought that you might even be inching closer to something.

Ashton’s palm is large--it swallows your cheek as he brings your face up closer. Your foreheads brush and you can smell the garlic from your food and the subsequent mint you’re sure Ashton snuck on the way up here.

His smile radiates over his entire face. You can feel the heat of it ghosting over your face and you smile too. “It could be?”

“It could be. I like you. A lot. You make me feel safe. But you’re leaving so soon and I don’t know if right now I can say anything definitely.”

Ashton’s lips brush over the tip of your nose. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t ask anything sooner. But please know I’m happy at the possibility. We’ll talk. I promise.”

As Ashton draws back, you surge forward, locking him in with a hand on the back of his neck. Ashton had asked but still you need the words. “Promise me we’ll talk at least weekly while you’re on tour? Promise me that there’s a possibility back?”

“I promise there’s a possibility. I mean, more than that too. But it’s--it’s not something you just waltz into. We’ll talk. Weekly at the absolutely least.”

Ashton swears his chest is going to burst when you kiss the tip of his nose. His fingers curl and he wants to do nothing more than to take your waist into his hands, kiss you until his lungs burn. But he won’t do that. The two of you had only promised an exploration, something to talk about more in depth, nothing full fledged. Ashton can’t lie that he doesn’t take that promise to bed like treasure. He can’t lie that he doesn’t lets it bury into his chest. He can’t lie that his dreams don’t water that hope.

He can’t lie that when he wakes to a text from you, Take care of yourself today, with a red heart instead of the pink ones that something ike joy, or maybe just a stronger hope, blossoms.

Your phone shakes and you pull the glasses off your face with a huff. You’d been buried into your laptop trying to read over the headlines about your client and you already know it’s going to be a mess, yet this is all you have just a mess.

Ashton’s name greets you on the screen and your bubble of frustration shrinks. “Long time, no see, stranger,” you tease, taking in the shaky and choppy picture of Ashton.

“Hey, stranger,” he teases. You can tell by the way his hair sticks to his forehead he’s recently either gotten down with a show. “What’s it like on the west coast?” he asks.

“Sunny and on the verge of collapse.”

“Verge of collapse? Your client?” Ashton questions.

“Isn’t it always? I’ll figure it out, I know. Just buried right now in tabloid bullshit. How was the show over there? How’s the east coast?”

“It’s a little cloudy. Heard some stuff about potential hurricanes. I’ll be glad to be further west next week.”

You nod, scotting down a little in your chair. “This time of year is hurricane season. Must be an active year though if you’re catching wind of it.”

“Our tour manager said the same thing. We’ll be getting out just in the knick of time. Just worried about the folks who live out here. Hurricanes don’t sound fun.”

You shake your head. “Mother Nature is always to be feared--fires to hurricanes.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“How are the shows though?” you ask, knowing that you may not get all the time you want with Ashton on the phone so you try to get the best of it you can.

“They’re fucking phenomenal. Amazing. Not quite the same as when you’re around, but they’re going really well.”

“And you’re taking care of yourself? If I ever get another text from you about being in a fucking hospital, I swear to God.”

Ashton laughs, a kind of laugh that you know is a bit uncomfortable, but he’s hearing you. “No, no, you won’t. Promise.”

“Good, I do not need a repeat.”

“No repeats. But question, is one of your dream dates still to get dressed up to go visit a museum?”

You give a pause, trying to assess with the somewhat clear picture of Ashton on your phone. You know you’d briefly mentioned it once, maybe twice. But you didn’t think it was enough for Ashton to still carry around the knowledge. You nod though at the question. “It is.”

“Why’d you say it like that? Are you getting suspicious of me?” Ashton teases.

“Maybe just a little. Can I ask why you’re asking?”

“If you must know,” Ashton starts, accent morphing into an almost decent English accent, “I am attempting to court you. Dates are a part of such activities.”

Your laughter falls easily, cheeks heating at the thought. “You do not have to say it like that,” you huff with a smile. “Is your dream date still a picnic and painting?”

“And if it is?” Ashton questions, a bit of a tease lilting his voice.

“Then I’m buying paints, good sir. As simple as that.”

“I can’t argue with that. Okay, two good things about your day? Yeah?” It’s a thing--whenever you talk to Ashton now you two share two good things about your day. It’s a nice way to break up the conversation, spin the frustration of the day into something positive. You recline into the cushion of your couch contemplating your day. After you share the good things you ask Ashton about his. Of course he mentions the show.

Conversation winds through dreams--literal and things about that you want out of life. It’s nice to just let the conversation go where it wants. Ashton mentions being inspired on tour for new scents for his candle company and you let that take you to conversations about the smells of your childhood home. Ashton teases that he’ll have to make that another scent. When you ask about the smells of Ashton’s childhood, you notice he gets a little quiet. It’s a slow answer and when it comes, you listen to all the weight he gives the words.

“Mum--she did the best she could you know. I think if I had to describe the smell of my childhood home it’d be a bit of vanilla, grass because god the house was always brimming with our ruckus.”

“Grass after it rains is a nice smell,” you offer after Ashton’s bout of silence. “We don’t have to push it. I appreciate you sharing what you did.”

“No, no, I don’t mind. Just hard sometimes.”

“I get it. It can be hard sometimes. But I appreciate you listening. It means a lot, you know? That you’re willing to let me work through it at my own pace.”

“Life’s hard enough,” you concede. “No need for me to make it harder.”

“But we have Dallas to look forward too.”

You nod. “Yes, we do have Dallas. I’m excited.”

“Good, me too.” Voices echo from further down and Ashton bids his goodbyes, sad and quiet but you ensure to send a message as follow up, I’m here, when you need to call or text or vent. Got plenty of space. You attach a picture of your bed you splayed across the queen sized mattress.

Ashton’s response comes about twenty minutes later, God, that looks comfy as hell. Thank you. A red heart is attached too.

Ashton’s not one to freak--he’s done plenty of it on his own and knows it’ll get him nowhere. But the night before the Dallas show, his phone shakes. Your name lights up across the screen. He thinks it’s just about tomorrow. Maybe an inner monologue about you trying to decide what to wear. But when the message starts with, I’m so sorry, Ashton knows it’s bad.

He doesn't even read the full thing, pushes back from the bar counter and presses to call your number. It rings, and rings, and rings in his ear. “Please pick up,” he mutters to himself.

“Hi, I’m sorry I can’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message with your name and number and I’ll be sure to return your call,” your voicemail greets Ashton.

He listens for the beep before speaking, “Hey, it’s me, Ashton. I-I admittedly only read like two percent of your text, but I wanted to call, to see if everything is okay. Please give me a call back when you can. Please. I’m worried.”

There’s so much more to say but Ashton can’t get his tongue to cooperate so he leaves it at that and hangs up. Pushing the hair off his forehead with one hand, Ashton swipes back to your text. I’m so sorry about this. Currently at the ER and will probably be on crutches tomorrow thanks to an ill placed step on some gravel. I’ll be sure to update you and call as soon as I know for certain.

You’re hurt, but not terribly so and that’s a win. It’s not enough to quiet the thunder of Ashton’s heart. What had you done? Where had you been? He can only think to type out, Which hospital are you at? Are you going to be okay?

“Hey, Ash, everything alright?” Calum asks. His voice is soft as his question falls. Ashton’s not sure how he even catches Calum speaking if he’s honest, even as he gives a head shake no to the question. “What happened?”

“Just-I need them to text me back. Figure out how far the hospital is from here. I can think then.”

“Yeah, of course. But it sounds bad? Who’s hurt? When you get the name, I’ll see how quick we can get an Uber.”

Panic does no one any good, but Ashton’s not going to talk himself off the ledge of panic when it comes to you. He waits and waits and Calum waits with him, finally getting the pieces of your text in relation to a potential fall. The two men hover in the lobby of the hotel, drinks long forgotten by now. Though Ashton felt the waning of adrenaline leaving his body from the show just a couple hours before, he feels wired. He watches and watches his screen for it to only come alive by the shake of his hands.

I’m sure you just got done with the houston show and would probably prefer some rest. It’s a pretty bad sprain, I’ll be okay, reads the text after a long 45 minutes.

His fingers shake and he nearly can’t get a steady enough press to dial your number. The phone rings--once, then twice. Your voice is the sweetest sound he could ever hear as it floats in through the receiver, “Hi, Ashton. I’m sorry to give you such a scare, I know.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Nasty fall. Really bad sprain. It’ll be annoying for the next couple of days. But I’m not dead.”

“Which hospital are you at?”

“Uh, Baylor something or another. I’m getting discharged now actually. I thought I’d be able to call after the initial run of test but they diagnosed it fast. And a lot sort of happened before I could get my hands on the phone again.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you have someone that can get you back to your hotel safely?” He needs that answer to be yes. He’s not sure where you are though and that’s the thing that’s killing him. Ashton does have the name of the hotel you’re staying at, as you shared your itinerary with him earlier in the week to see if you’d be at the same hotel. Your hotel is about 10 minutes or so from his. Happenstance you both knew but right now it feels like a godsend.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got someone that can drive me.”

“I’m going to meet you there okay?” You start to protest but Ashton’s quicker. “I know you probably don’t need me. But please, just let me get eyes on you so I know you’re not going to keel over, okay?”

You sigh. “Fine, Irwin. But you better be there before me.”

A smile lifts his cheeks. “I will be. Promise.”

“Are they at Baylor University still? I got the address,” Calum offers when Ashton hangs up. “And yes, yes I was eavesdropping,” he laughs at the pull of Ashton’s brow.

Though Ashton won’t admit this, he’s glad for Calum’s care. “Nah, no, they’re about to head back to their hotel. Getting discharged now. I’m-I’m going to go there and I’ll meet up with you guys for the truck in the afternoon before it leaves for the venue.”

“Sounds good. Keep us updated though? Should anything else happen?”

“Of course, man. Of course.”

Ashton’s quick back to his room to grab his bags. They’re not many, thankfully. All the while he tracks his drivers approach on his phone as he waits at the elevator door. It’s a slow descent, or at least it feels that way but the doors open and Ashton’s back into the lobby. Just as his feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk a car eases to a stop.

“Picking up for Ashton?” the driver asks through the passenger side window.

It’s a quick ride and Ashton thanks the driver before climbing back out into the thick humid Texas air. It’s heavy on his skin but all Ashton continues to think about is getting into that lobby before you. The glass doors are heavy but they reveal a mostly quiet lobby. No one at the front desk and he settles off to the side. Ashton halfway considers calling you to see how far you are, but before the thought can blossom anymore than a hair, the doors open again.

Someone holds open the door and there’s a click and clack that’s distinctly hollow. “Thanks,” you state, working the crutches up and forward.

Not what Ashton expected but you’re whole--together, in front of him. A wrap on your left ankle. “You’re late,” Ashton huffs, a faux annoyance. But it’s all you need to grin. The ache in his ribs eases.

“I’m moving a little slower than normal.” The two of you meet in the middle, or maybe less than that as Ashton does cover more ground than you. But it’s not like you care. Though you are mindful that you are still sort of on the clock. And Ashton catches on too, when you don’t lean in for a hug or more.

“Do-do you have any bags you need me to carry?” he asks.

“Personal effects,” you tease, throwing a look over to Savannah who’s got your shoe in a plastic bag from the hospital. You take the moment though to introduce the small group you’re with--mostly other staff on the team. “Everyone, Ashton,” you conclude with a nod of your head. It’s a quick conversation to ensure you’re all okay and set to go. Once you confirm that you’re good and that Ashton won’t let you do anything to further hurt yourself, the group slowly thins.

You and Ashton remain as the others move towards either the hotel bar or the elevators. You wait, trying to ensure that the group is gone before you sigh, shoulders rounding with the action. “I hope your heart will be able to withstand the show tomorrow,” you tease.

“Oh, quit it. I’m not that old.”

“I don’t know you told you were old anyway.”

“Oh, society says it everyday. Aren’t you listening?:

“Absolutely the fuck not,” you laugh.

Ashton’s glad to hear the sound. “Yeah, I thought you might say that, let’s get you to your room yeah.”

It’s a hobble, still unsteady on the crutches a little but thankfully once you’re inside the elevator, you know it’s a quick walk to your room. Ashton retrieves the keycard from your wallet for you and holds the door open. The room is cool--like all hotel rooms seem to be as they surely must double for freezers with the temperatures they are set at. But it’s clear that maybe you hadn’t been planning to be out--your laptop’s still on the bed. Your bag rest on the lounge chair open, clothes peeking out from the depths of it.

Ashton drops his bag next to yours.

“So what happened?” he asks.

“We got back around 8 or so, a much too early night if I’m honest. So, I did a little work to pass the time. Then around 9 Devin, the stylist, asks if I want to go out and grab a couple drinks. I say yes, we’re sort of bar hopping to find the right vibe. I had like two drinks max at the bars we’d found. But on the way to another bar, coming down off the sidewalk, I just misjudged the distance or something. All I know is that I was up one minute then I was down.”

Ashton’s gentle as he kneels, taking a quiet moment to inspect your foot. “You ought to be elevating it,” he offers.

“I sort of want to change, but I need to shower too. And that’s just awkward all the way around,” you laugh. “Haven’t even taken me on a date yet and I’m already on the verge of having to ask you to help me undress because of my stupid ankle.”

“They don’t mean that,” Ashton directs to your injured joint. “And I am working on that date, you just need to give me a few months.” Though Ashton hopes he can do it sooner. Though with this injury he’s not sure if his plans of stealing you away one day during the break will pan out still.

You know you should be responding. Ashton’s gazing up at you from practically between your legs as if waiting for an instruction, but you’re too caught up in the way his face holds his beard, honey eyes dripping still as they look at you. “You’re handsome, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Some might say you just did.”

“Well, you are,” you return more confident. “You’re very handsome.” Maybe it’s just easier now. You can freely admit to such attraction because you know the possibility exist that you and Ashton have more. You know the tour is just a temporary thing, but it gives you two something to work from. Rather than just the comfort of ease and accessibility, you and Ashton have to make conscious efforts to communicate while he’s away. The discomfort makes you work. It reminds you that nothing worth having has always been easy.

Your fingers trace the line of Ashton’s jaw, from the bottom of his ear to his chin. Feels like his body is melting but he remains frozen, kneeling on the thin carpeted floor of this hotel room. It’s a sort of limbo that if Ashton were to ever work through a metaphor, he might call it the seconds in a summer blaze with ice cream. You know the ice cream won’t stay solid forever, but in the first few moments, everything is as it always will be. The ice cream will still have a shape and the sun will still have a ray, but those paths had not crossed just yet--not long enough to have an effect. Yet, Ashton knows that while he holds still now, while he waits to see if you say or do something more, he is the sun ray. He will cause an effect.

“You, however, sweetheart, are so incredibly dangerous,” Ashton whispers.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Besides absolutely wiping out and being a danger to your literal self, I do have to say that you are dangerous because if you keep scratching at my beard like this you are going to open a whole new can of worms that we will not be able to get back inside.”

You know it’s a warning. You don’t think you want to heed it though. “Just a kiss?” you ask.

Will it ever be just a kiss, Ashton does not know. “You speak of me undressing you to shower and change and rest your ankle that is still injured by the way, and ask for just a kiss?”

You nod. “Yeah, just a kiss.”

Ashton pushes up, hand capturing your cheek as his lips capture yours. Your lips taste a bit sour, maybe the drink or two you’d mentioned before. But Ashton thinks he could swallow the taste and tattoo it into his lungs. He would tattoo it into his lungs if such a thing were possible.

You swear you’ve never been held in such a more confident and gentle way as Ashton pulls up closer into your body. His hands find your waist, a grip that pushes into the flesh of you that makes you whimper. It’s a pathetic sound and you can’t help but laugh at yourself, interrupting the kiss. Your kiss ends with an echoing pant between the two of you, nose to nose as you hold his face between your palms.

“You can make fun of me for that later, understand?” you huff.

Ashton’s laughter falls out more like a groan when you brush your hands down his chest. “I don’t really think I have ground to talk, so.” Ashton presses another kiss, lighter, but still long against your lips. “I just--I’m a little ill prepared to go any further tonight.”

“Are you, Ashton Irwin, rockstar and drummer for the hottest band, 5 Seconds of Summer, telling me that you do not have condoms?” you snort.

“It may be that. In all fairness, the spare I had I had to end up passing along to a couple of the other guys so, it’s not that I didn’t have them.”

“You just don’t have anymore,” you conclude for him.

“Exactly.”

“No worries. My spare expired, so same boat. Besides, I did ask only for a kiss.”

“That you surely did. And I think this is our last stop on this train lest we decide to risk it tonight.”

You giggle, fingers playing just a little at the hair at the nape of Ashton’s neck. “I think this is my stop anyway.”

“Can I ask for one more kiss though?” Ashton’s grin is small and sheepish, like he knows he’s asking for something he shouldn’t. But you can’t say no as you capture his lips one last time. It’s softer now, rather than holding for fear of life lost, now you know you can taste and taste without worrying about losing your chance.

Though it should be awkward to get yourself changed and cleaned up, you find that it’s easy. Undoubtedly, it’s intimate to have Ashton help you get your pants on and off, but it’s easy to laugh and converse around your work. By the time you’re both settled in for the night, your leg slightly elevated thanks to some of the spare pillows, the blue hue of the TV screen is just an accent to you and Ashton’s laughter,

“You had to have a crush on at least one cartoon character,” you huff.

“No, I’m normal.”

“Ashton, you are anything but normal. So just fess up. Was it Lola Bunny?”

Ashton laughs. “No, it was not Lola Bunny. Who even is that?”

You ignore Ashton’s question and pry for an answer listing Roxanne from A Goofy Movie as another potential. It gets shot down immediately. “C’mon, Irwin! Just give me an answer.”

Your response is only Ashton pressing a kiss to your cheek with an adamant but giggled filled, “Goodnight.”

It’s not what you imagined how the first time you shared a bed Ashton would go, but you can’t think to change anything about it now. It’d always be a story to tell, one to hold close to your heart in the future. You reach over, finding Ashton’s hand easily under the cover. His response is immediate as he threads his fingers through yours.

The TV remains on, a quiet hum and over the soft music of some commercial you’re sure you catch the rumble of a snore. “Thanks, for being here,” you offer. Even if Ashton is still asleep you need to say it.

“You’re more than welcome.”

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