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#i had to do this just this once. it will probably not happen again
utilitycaster · 2 days
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Something I think actual play is uniquely good at showing is, for lack of a better way to put it, narrative choice. You see the story that people decide to play out; you see the threads that people wanted to follow. You also can, if the GM shares their concepts, get an idea of some of the other possible paths not taken and stories not told, but ultimately they are untold. And finally, ironically enough for a medium with a random element, it makes creator intent unavoidably clear.
We see it all the time in Critical Role. There probably was a really fascinating story to be told with Vox Machina working with The Clasp following the fall of Emon. The party chose not to do it; we don't know what would have happened. I like many am intrigued by the Augen Trust path Matt had planned for the Mighty Nein; they didn't take it. We can't judge the story on what might have been, even if we find it interesting; we can only judge it on what was. And we don't follow the Clasp nor the Augen Trust as a result, because it's not where the PCs are; at most we might see the effects their actions taken without the aid of the PCs had on the world when their paths cross again. The camera, in D&D, always follows the PCs. You see what they see.
Essek was redeemed because the Mighty Nein wanted him to be redeemed. In actual play especially there's a weird tendency to switch to the passive voice to describe things one dislikes, but this choice was anything but passive. The party learned Essek had been lying to them and made their choice to remain his friends, and the story continues from that presumption, and while I am the first to reject the "but the cast liked it" argument, the fact is, one can't reject this redemption without rejecting the party's choice, and the party is controlled by the cast.
It's great to discuss paths not taken, and it's even true that you might believe those paths to be a better story. But you cannot rely on the camera - or the audience's interest and sympathy - to abandon the PCs desires and decisions just to suit yours. You can't do this as a GM, as another player, or as a viewer. Nor can you expect people to judge based on potential once it is no longer potential; a strong concept that is never followed doesn't count as the story; at best it counts as the GM or player's creative intent.
Actual Play forces people to take a story for what it is. I think the fandom can be so fraught because many people do not understand quite how it's limited in scope nor what is under GM control and what is not and so they act like choices are inevitable and inevitabilities are choices.
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faetima · 2 days
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THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man
(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .
. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.
// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 
a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3
ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.
but last week had just solidified your beliefs.
you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.
words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.
and after that?
aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.
your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.
everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.
you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?
after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.
so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.
"i want to break up."
--
now, you were rethinking your decision.
on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.
you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.
you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.
but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.
but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.
marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.
you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.
--
it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.
you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.
you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.
at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.
--
aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.
he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.
horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.
he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.
maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?
--
aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.
he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?
he took a shaky inhale.
fuck it.
--
he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.
he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 3 days
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Break Ups and Make Ups
Jason Todd x reader
Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty
Word Count: 3233
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Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 
That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 
                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 
                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.
                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.
                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 
                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”
                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.
                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 
                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.
                  “It’s none of your business.” 
                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”
                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.
                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 
                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 
                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”
                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.
                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 
                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 
                  “Where’s Y/N?” 
                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”
                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 
                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.
                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.
                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.
                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”
                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”
                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”
                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.
                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said
                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”
                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,
                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 
                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 
                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 
                  “What do you have?” You asked.
                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”
                  “He never told me about that.” 
                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 
                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”
                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.
                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 
                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 
                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.
                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 
                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 
                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 
                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.
                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 
                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”
                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 
                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 
                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 
                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.
                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.
                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”
                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 
                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 
                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 
                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.
                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 
                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    
                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 
                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 
                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.
                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 
                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 
                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.
                  “You know it.” Dick said.
                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 
                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.
                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.
                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.
                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.
                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.
                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.
                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 
                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 
                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.
                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”
                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.
                  “You knew about that?” 
                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.
                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 
                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.
                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 
                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.
                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.
                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 
                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.
                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 
                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 
                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.
                  “Yes, absolutely.” 
                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.
                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 
                  “I did too.” 
                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.
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minty364 · 2 days
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DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3
Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.
This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.
Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 
The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.
“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.
“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.
“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.
Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.
Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 
Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.
Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.
“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 
He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.
Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.
The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 
If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 
No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 
Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 
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writingroom21 · 3 days
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m and f receiving)
wc: 4.9K
Chapter 2: Let the fun and games begin
The next day was a blur of anxiety as you didn’t know what to do about last night. Rose and Ward had left early this morning taking Wheezie to drop her off at her camp. That just left you, Sarah and Rafe all alone at Tannyhill. This normally wouldn’t have been a problem but considering Sarah is MIA it became one. Every room you enter fills you with anxiety and dread of seeing Rafe. How do you even look at him after what happened? After he caught you watching him fuck his fist. Alright you think as you start to throb just thinking about how his arms flexed everytime he stroked himself. This is getting out of hand, it was one thing for your thoughts to keep you up all night but it can't affect your daily routine.
What’s the worst that can happen right? So what if you stood there and watched him, he would have done the same in your position. Hell he probably would have taken it as an invitation if he walked in on you like that. But no matter how you tried to spin it in your head it all led to the same conclusion. You were utterly fucked. The past year was easy to blow him off, all you had to do was think about all the girls you saw crying over him. But now that you caught a glimpse of that side of him you can’t help wanting to get a closer look. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, you thought. It really wouldn’t, he’s really handsome and if his reputation is right then he’s also really good in bed.
Then you think about Wheezie and how hurt she would be if something went wrong and you had to leave. The thought of hurting her alone was good enough for the thoughts to finally stop. No matter how attractive Rafe is it isn't worth it, plus his personality would probably ruin it before it even starts. Yeah the two of you are completely different, he grew up rich and thinks the world is his to rule and you grew up in the cut. If it wasn’t for this job you would still be living at home barely making anything to feed yourself. He only tolerates you because he thinks you are hot and you work for his family. Yup that it, right?
The tv plays in the background reruns of Grey’s Anatomy playing as you try to relax. It’s close to five o’clock and no one is in the house. Sarah is probably off with John B and Rafe is well he’s mostly likely off somewhere getting high. Derek’s voice plays in your ear as you focus back onto the screen forcing yourself to think of anything but the older Cameron. Watching as the surgery scene plays out your phone pings. Mom: Hi baby. Just wanted to let you know dad and I are having a cookout tomorrow night. We would like it if you came, we know you’re a busy bee but we miss you. You let out a sigh looking at the message. It wasn’t that your relationship with your parents is bad, they just expected a lot from you. 
It was always about getting good grades so you could get a good job and help them out with bills. They wanted you to take care of them once you had a stable job. So when you decided to take up a job as a nanny they weren’t too pleased.  The displeasure faded away once they found out it was being a nanny for the Camerons. Even though the paycheck was nice, well more than nice, it still wasn’t enough to cover their expenses and your own. It’s been a constant argument between the three of you. You type out a quick response before she starts sending you more. You: Hey! I miss you both. I’ll try to make it, Ward and Rose asked me to watch the house while they are gone. Your phone wasn’t even out of your hand before it went off again with another message. Mom: I’m sure they won’t mind you being away for a few hours. But if you can’t make it we will just see you another time then. Her message seems so understanding but deep down you know she's upset. Fingers go to respond but a voice scares you. The phone drops from your hand as you whip your head to look at who came into the living room. “Still pretending to text that boyfriend of yours?” Rafe says, making his way over to the couch and plopping down near you. Scoffing at him you respond. “No, I'm texting my mother.” “oh so you admit the boyfriend was fake.”
There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he grins at you, watching to see what your next move will be. “Yeah it was fun watching you get jealous but I decided to give it a rest for tonight.” The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, he’s looking at what you are wearing. You didn’t notice it at the time but it’s one of his old shirts that got mixed with your laundry a while ago. It looks like a dress on you blocking the view of your sleep shorts underneath. Which is a good thing because those shorts leave nothing to the imagination, barely covering you up from the world. Every now and then you wear it but only in your room, not allowing yourself to let him know you have it. 
“Nice shirt.” He comments scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “You should wear it more often Sunny. Really makes your eyes pop.” Mhm you mumble knowing that he’s not looking anywhere near your eyes. In fact he’s staring at the exposed flesh of your thighs. Skimming up along your legs pausing for a moment at your cunt. Rafe’s eyes on you are making you wiggle in your seat as you try to focus back on the show. It is quiet for a moment as the voices of the characters fill the room. The sky outside starts to darken as the sun finally sets, the room painted in the soft lights of the screen.
Rafe is staring at you, looking at how the light washes of blue dance across your features as you try your best to not stare at him. Movement catches your attention as you see him slide further along the cushions to sit right next to you. “Where’s Sarah?” He whispers by my ear, his right hand brushes against your left thigh. “Um… I don’t know. Maybe she’s with John B or the rest of them.” Clearing your throat, the voice leaving you sounding weak. “Hmm so it’s just us in the house?” The question was met with his hand resting fully on your thigh. Lightly squeezing you as it slowly goes a bit higher right where the shirt ends, fingers quickly skirting underneath before going back to its original position. 
“Rafe.” The rest of the statement was cut off by him. ”Don’t do that. Enough with this game of cat and mouse. I know you want this as badly as I do.” A moan slips from you as his hand goes back under the shirt to tease you through your shorts. Rafe’s middle finger grazing you up and down, noticing the way your eyes screw shut. Creases forming around them as he keeps playing with you. “We shouldn’t do this, I literally work for your family.” You try to reason with him turning to be face to face, whimpering as the heat of his hand leaves as he retracts it. 
“I know.” He whispers as the hand that was touching your caresses your check, knotting into your hair to drag you closer. The other hand worms it way back to your shorts, sliding them to the side to finally feel you. “Fuck no panties? See you’re practically soaking those little shorts of yours.” You moan as he circles your clit with a feather-like touch. “Are you always this wet or do you like me touching you like this?” He chuckles as you move further into his touch. “You’re not special Cameron. I’m always this wet.” The response stops all movement, the grip in her hair tightening for a short second causing your eyes to open. Meeting the blue eyes that haunted you all night, you let go.  “Don’t stop.” 
Your lips crash into his, soft pillowy lips melting together, teeth nipping at each other's lips as Rafe’s fingers continue their assault. “That’s a good girl, Sunny. Fucking perfect.” The words tickle your lips, head thrown back as he makes his way to your entrance. Rafe pushes his middle finger in, dragging it along your walls in a delicious and intoxicating way. Moans keep slipping from your lips and only intensifies as his lips skate across your skin, latching onto your neck. 
A second finger joins his middle one curling just enough to hit your g-spot, tingles spread across your body, legs spreading giving him better access. “Right there.” You moan, your hand landing on his thigh trying to ground yourself when all you can feel is pleasure. Wet squelching fills your eyes only adding to the sensation of his thick fingers fucking you open. “That feel good, baby?” Rafe picks up his speed before taking his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth. He moans around his fingers, pushing you back to lay down on the couch.  “Come on, pretty girl, lay down for me. Want to have my dinner.” 
Your brain is so hazy from having his fingers inside you that you don’t fight back. Lifting your hips, his hands wrap around your hips to pull the pathetic excuse you call shorts down your legs. The flimsy material being thrown off to the side, shirt pushed up to your waist exposing you to him for the first time. “God your pussy’s perfect. Look at it clenching around nothing. Want me to fill you up.” His lips start to kiss up your thigh, biting into the soft flesh when you don’t respond. “Please.” You whine 
“Please what? Use your words, I know a smart girl like you can do it.” The praise goes straight to your head, hips lifting off the couch trying to chase after his touch. “Please, sir.” The whimper halts Rafe and he stares up at you. After a moment of him not doing anything you look down at him between your legs. If you had a camera in this moment you would take a picture, he was a sight to be seen. Rafe’s lips are puffy and red but his eyes are staring at you with this hunger that makes you go to close your legs but he stops you. Both hands spread your legs as he dives into your cunt.
“Fuck that wasn’t what I was looking for but I’ll be damned if you don’t call me that.” His voice vibrates against you sending chills down your body. “Say it again.” His middle and ring finger push into you once again, pumping in a cruel slow pace. “Please, sir. It feels so good.” Your walls flutter around the fingers inside you, his tongue kitty licking your clit. “Such a good little slut. Begging me to keep finger fucking you like some depraved whore.” His words cause you to squeeze his finger and throw your head back with a moan. 
“Yeah you like being degraded?” A chuckle leaves him “Should’ve known you would like it. Prancing around the house in those little skirts. Just asking for me to bend you over some surface to fuck you. Bet you want me to fuck that attitude right out of you. Huh would that finally shut up that little mouth of yours?” With his fingers curling into you deeper and his mouth suctioning against your clit no words come out. Your mouth hangs open and all you can do is place your hand behind his head, keeping him as close as possible to you. 
A choked moan is lodged in your throat, eyes peeking at him through your lashes. His eyes are closed as he keeps devouring you, his hips thrusting into the couch to relieve the growing pain in his pants. Rafe wanted nothing more than to rip his pants off and shove his dick into your tight pussy. If you were squeezing him so nicely now, he can only imagine how good you would feel wrapped around his cock. He wanted to watch as you crumble into a mess of pleasure, taking his dick like a cock drunk slut. The thought of that alone causes his hips to stutter, the feeling making him moan into your pussy.
At this rate you can feel your peak creeping up fast. “Oh god Rafe. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Hips thrusting up to match the brutal pace his fingers have set. If you thought his arms looked good jerking himself off, nothing compares to watching it flex as he fucks you. “I’m not stopping, baby. I’m never going to stop. But that’s not my name.” Rafe means it too. Just the little taste of you has ruined him, no one will be able to compare to the sweet taste of you. “Sir!” you squeal. He's drunk off the feeling and taste of you, every clench of your pussy making him grind harder into the cushion. “I can feel you squeezing me. You want to be my good girl right? Cum for me Sunny.”
With a graze of his teeth on your clit, you were sent to ecstasy. Hips thrashing all around as he kept sucking on your clit, fingers pushing deeper into you riding out your orgasim. Once you come down he removes his fingers, quickly cleaning them with his tongue before diving back into you. Licking you clean and holding you down by the waist as you try to escape him. When he’s finally done he lets you go, leaning back, chest heaving looking down at you.
You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. So fucked out catching your breath with a peaceful look on your face. Eyes still closed you don’t notice him leaning back down, encasing your body with his. His thumb lightly dances along your cheek, waiting for you to open your eyes to look at him. “Thank you.” You whisper suddenly shy as if he wasn’t just eating you out like you were his last meal. Rafe laughs, kissing you deeply before moving off of you. “Such good manners.” He walks over to your shorts, throwing them back at you, making his way out of the room. “I have to go deal with something. I’ll be back later okay.”
Silence wraps around you, the tv displaying Are you still watching? Getting up you pull your shorts back on looking around the couch for your phone and the remote. Finding your phone you also notice something on the couch. A huge wet spot from where you were laying, heat rushes to your checks knowing you just soiled an expensive couch.
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The rest of the night was uneventful, Sarah never came back home so you were left all alone. Usually you and Wheezie would spend the summer nights outside swimming in the pool or staying up late chatting about god knows what. Without her there really wasn’t anything to do besides lay around or go to a party. After much consideration the only one that seemed right was staying at home. You knew Rafe would most likely be at the party, the something he had to deal with being selling coke. After last night and tonight you don’t even know how to face him again.
So staying at home was the best option in your books. A few hours were spent reading whatever romance book was on your bookshelf and making dinner for yourself. By midnight you were fast asleep in your room. Sleeping so peacefully, the sounds of the bedroom door opening weren't noticed. It was the door closing that stirred you from your slumber, looking at the bedside clock you noticed it was past two in the morning. Soft footsteps echo in the dark room, the person fumbling their way around knocking down whatever they made contact with. “Fuck” they curse the sound barely reachign you.
Scared and not knowing what to do you lay there slowly reaching for the bat by your bed. Even though this is a good neighborhood and people would have to have the gate code to get in you can never be too safe. The bat is now next to you in the bed, the side behind you dipping with the weight of the person sitting on it. “Sunny.” They whisper. Are you fucking kiddin’t me? “Rafe?” His hand wraps around you to turn you around, the bat coming along with you. “Jesus. Is that a fucking bat?”
Rafe slips it out of your hand placing it under your bed before going back to you. “Do you always keep a bat on you?” “Depends. Do you always sneak into girls' beds at two in the morning?” The moon shining through the windows dimly lit the room, contouring his face. “Only the pretty ones.” He whispers in the space between you two, telling you a secret he normally wouldn’t say. “I’m sure you say that to all of them.” You tease trying to put distance between you both. It’s weird having him laying in your bed, sure the two of you were friendly, things only changing the previous day. But this is different, he’s in your room, he’s laying in your bed next to you.
“Nah none of them need the sweet words to sleep with me.” Cocky tone matching the grin growing on his face. “Oh of course. Forgot that the kook king was also a king in the bedroom.” Rolling your eyes and lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling. Of course he would only say nice things to get into your pants, you don’t know why you could even think differently. Rafe’s face invades your eye line as he rests all his weight onto one arm to get a better look at you. His eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated scanning your face hoping it can tell him what you are thinking. 
“Penny for your thoughts.” Your eyes shut trying to form words with all the things you want to say. That he made you feel something no one else has been able to do, how you want to keep chasing that feeling, but more importantly that it was a mistake. It doesn’t matter that it felt amazing, that whatever it was would only lead to heartbreak. You’ve seen this film before with all the girls he flaunted around the house. “This.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes to the window. “This can’t keep happening.” 
Rafe takes a hold of your chin turning you to look at him. “Do you want it to keep happening?” The loaded question fizzling in the air was replaced by a quick “No.” leaving your lips. “But it doesn’t matter what I want.” “It does matter.” Blue eyes burning into your own pleading for you not to take away these moments. Communicating with you that he needs this as much as you need him. “It can be our little secret. I promise I won’t tell.” You giggle, his head burying into the crook of your neck, kissing the junction where your shoulder and neck meets. 
You try to push him by his shoulder but he won’t budge, kissing up your neck until he meets your ear. “Stop letting life pass you by. You stay cooped up in this house with Wheeze all day, she’s not a kid you know. When was the last time you let yourself go?” His breath tickles your ear before biting it and continuing to kiss your skin. Rafe’s right, you don’t do anything fun anymore. Before you took this job you would go out constantly, always with friends running around the island. Wheezie shouldn’t even need a nanny, the only reason you have this job is because Ward was scared. Sarah running away and Rafe doing drugs all the time made him paranoid, he doesn’t want the same to happen to her.
“I don’t know, I would say what we did on the couch would count.” His kisses travel to your jaw, then check, and finally meet your lips. “Yeah I would say it counts. Fucking soaked the couch from how wet you were.” You tense for a moment, embarrassed that he noticed the mess you made. “Nah nah don’t get shy on me pretty girl. You’re just as dirty and depraved as I am.” Pretty girl, that's the second time he’s called you pretty since he sneaked into your room. “You’re high, you should go to sleep.”
“Not high, that shit is practically out of my system at this point.” Kissing your lips he weasels his way on top of you. Your legs widening allowing him to slot his hips between yours, his dick rubbing you in the right way. You are still wearing the shorts from earlier, his dick making the fabric  stick to your folds. “Just want to feel you.” Rafe’s words punctuated with his hips slowly thrusting against you, lips kissing any exposed skin he can get to. “I’m not letting you fuck me after you’ve been taking drugs all night.”
You can feel him smile against your skin, giving you a peck and moving his head to meet your gaze. “So what I’m hearing is you would let me fuck you any other time.” scoffing you roll your eyes flicking his forehead. “Yeah dumbass that’s what I’m saying. It's too bad. I guess we’ll have to find another way.” “Another way?” There’s that smirk again, a fluttering feeling starts in your stomach. Shaking the feeling away you pull him up by his face to kiss you, using all of your body weight to get him on his back. Throwing your leg over his hip you straddle him. 
Rafe is the first to break the kiss, watching you from below as you start to grind against him. “Tell me princess exactly what is this other way?” The hand that was resting on your neck makes its way down the valley of your breast, teasing you nipples through the shirt with a pinch before finding its home on your hip. Viewing him from this angle is breathtaking, the moon painting him in a light blue. “Let me suck your dick.” His hips thrust up into your after hearing how you want to suck him off. “Yeah? Want to put the little mouth of yours to good use.” You grind a little harder leaning down to kiss his neck.
There’s a slight taste of sweat on his skin, probably from partying too hard, it doesn’t stop you from sucking on his pulse point. Pecking up to his ear and placing kisses right behind it, gaining moans from him. Bingo. Sucking on his sweat spot he uses his grip on your hips to move you back and forth. “Yeah. I want to feel you in my mouth, want to taste you.” This causes him to groan bucking into you. “Fuck! Yeah, yeah you can have whatever you want baby.” The words are like a reward, smiling as you look down at him, your hair covering the two of you from the outside world.
“Good boy.” Two simple words, two words that had him wrapped around your finger. The grip on your hip tightens as you kiss down his body, pulling his shirt over his head so you can nip at his skin. Your hands reach between your bodies undoing the belt and pants button easing the pain the zipper was giving him. He’s so painfully hard he can’t even remember the last time he wanted someone this much. “You like being my good boy just as much as I like being your good girl. If you admit it I’ll suck you so good.” You whisper, eyes flickering up to look at him. 
If his ego wasn’t so big he would admit it, he would tell you just how fucking bad he wanted to be good for you. But that’s not who he is, admitting something like that would just show you how weak he truly is, he can’t do that. “Oh you begging for me to fill that mouth up of yours and fuck that tone out of you.” He taunts from above, grasping at anything to give him the upper hand. “You’ll definitely be filling up my mouth. It’s just going to be under my rules.” Pushes his shorts and boxers down his cock springs free bobbing in front of your face. Reaching up you grab him and give him a little squeeze, electing a groan out of the boy laid out on your bed.
You kiss his left thigh before licking him from the base up to the mushroom tip that was red, begging for attention. The taste of pre-cum invades your tongue as you wrap your lips around him, sucking just the tip. He’s heavy in your mouth and you only have the tip in but based off of the quick glance you got you knew he was big. Like huge, he’s also wide, stretching your lips as you take more of him in. If he’s stretching you out like this then you can only imagine what fucking him would do. As if Rafe was a mind reader he calms your nerves. “Don’t worry baby, we’ll make it fit. Just…just keep sucking like that.” 
Humming around him, you start to move your head up and down, making sure to hollow your cheeks and give him a nice long suck on the way up. Repeating the motion you get into a rhythm, right hand wrapped around what you can’t fit helping you along. “Fuck that feels good. Who knew that mouth was good for something else other than talking back.” The vibrations of your chuckle send pleasure through Rafe’s body. He doesn’t know whether to watch you or to shut his eyes and enjoy the moment. But looking at the way your eyes are closed, worshiping his dick has him throwing his head back. His eyes closing, moans escaping him as he wraps your hair in a ponytail in his hands. Guiding your pace he pulls your hair this causes you to moan around the sensation making you wet. 
“Touch yourself.” The command takes you by surprise, following it, your unoccupied hand makes its way into your shorts. You're wet, wet is an understatement, you were soaked. You would never admit this but you liked the feeling of him in your mouth, the feeling of him rutting into you. “You get off on this shit don’t you?” Your fingers rub faster on your clit, already so close to cumming just by sucking him off. “Knew you were a cock slut. Damn baby.” He huffs between breaths. 
All you can do is moan and keep sucking, picking up the pace of your bobbing, moving your arm to slip a finger inside yourself. Rafe lifts his head at your movements, entranced by just watching you. His beautiful little Sunny being perfect, your eyes flutter open and his breath hitches. He’s going to remember this moment forever, it’s going to play on repeat in his head every minute of every day. Whatever happens after this is worth it in his eyes, this right here made it worth it. “If you keep going I’m gonna cum.” He moans, head falling back onto your pillow. 
Disconnecting from him a string of saliva and pre-cum kept the two of you tethered. “That’s kinda the point, pretty boy.” You continue your previous movements, on the verge of cumming yourself. You can feel him throbbing ready to explode in your mouth so you squeeze his base tighter, letting him know it's okay and you want it. “Can you be a good boy and come for me sir?” Not even a second later he lets go, white ropes of cum filling your mouth as you cum right after him. Swallowing around him, you let him go, releasing him from your mouth, the hand in your pants laying motionless. 
Rafe lets go of your hair, grabbing your arms to pull you up his body. The motion was so fast that you had to catch yourself as your body tumbles on top of him. He reaches for your hand, still glistening from your sum to pop them into his mouth. Rafe’s tongue swirls around the digest, licking them clean and releasing them to kiss you. “Taste just as sweet like before.” He kisses you, turning your bodies so you are both laying on your sides.
He has a soft smile on his lips, hands rubbing up and down your arm as he regulates his breathing. “Did so good, sunny.” His eyes are barely open, fighting off the sleep threatening to overcome him. “Yeah?” You whisper resting your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort with his arms wrapped around you. Snoring mets your ears as sleep takes you along with it. For the second night in a row, you go to bed with the taste of him still lingering on your taste buds.
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ysrjune · 24 hours
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stephen walking in on you jumping his pillows??
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Stephen had taken you to his apartment for the night since you decided to visit him for the last hour he had to work. You were in his office, staying quiet and watching him type and write things away. Once he was finished, you talked with him for a while until his shift was over.
You came in a taxi, so he just took you with him in his car. Laughs and conversations filled the car all the way from work, the parking lot, and his apartment. You both lay in his bed, kissing for a while. Kiss marks were left all over his face.
“Gotta go wash these off, sweetie.” He chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Be right back, don't run off.” Stephen jokes, quickly going to his dresser to find comfy bottoms and a shirt, then walks to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
You lay on your back and sighed. Literally, nothing was planned for you today except for all the chores you had to finish earlier. Not to mention the fact that you were so worked up and needed your boyfriend so bad all day.
You had no idea if he was in the mood or not, but if he wasn't, you were gonna put him in it. You swiftly removed all your clothes and grabbed one of your boyfriends’ pillows. At a slow pace that eventually sped up, you rocked your hips on it and imagined it was Stephen.
“Babe, hurry up!” You called out to which he replied, “Almost done, I'll just be a minute!” He was probably brushing his teeth, too. You waited until he came out, wiping off his glasses, not looking at you immediately. “Sorry I took so long. I decided to brush my teeth and scrub my face real good.” Stephen explains and put his glasses back on.
As soon as he looked at what you were doing, he froze and started blushing. “Babe.. what are you doing.” He asks shyly. “What does it look like im doing?” You reply, going slower.
“you—you know, if.. if you wanted to.. do something you could've just asked..” he slowly walked over to you, placing his hands on your hips. “Mm—I wouldn't have said no, you know that, baby.” He breathes out, his right hand dropping down to your clit and letting his middle finger slide up and down.
You let out a small moan and drape your hands over his shoulders. “I don't know.. I guess I just—” you paused for a second, feeling his finger move back and forth on you. “just wanted to see what you would do when you saw what I was doing.
“Wishing my face was that pillow, if im being honest.” What? Did he really just say that, or did you imagine it..
“What did you sa—”
“Sit on my face. Please sit on my face, baby.” He cut you off and went down on his knees, hands reaching behind your thighs to pull you closer so he could suck on your folds. “You're.. wet.” He quietly states, pulling away while your bodily fluids connect with his lips.
“Makes me so hard to see you be the needy one..” He gently pushed you down and dragged you closer to his mouth. “if only you could see what I see. Mmm, this pretty pussy is all mine.” He groaned against the lips and then started to eat you like a starved man.
Your moans filled the room. Fingers tangling in his curly hair and hearing the sloppiest noises coming from his tongue exploring you. “Come on, baby, please? I dont wanna ask again..” He stopped.
“Okay, fine..” You replied, and he got what he wanted. Your hands gripped the headboard, and your hips rolled on his face while he was eating you out. His arms were gripping your thighs, too. He moaned and made all sorts of noises while doing this.
After cumming all over his face, he wanted you to ride him. And what happened? That pretty boy got what he wanted. He tried ditching the glasses, but you didn't let him. Not ever.
His hands kept moving from your tits, ass, hips, and thighs while you were doing this. A hair fell onto his forehead, making him look so cute. Cheeks stained deep pink, glasses that kept falling down the bridge of his nose.. that piece of hair did wonders.
A bunch of babbles came from him, saying how he loves you and your pussy so much. Or telling you how hes so lucky to be with a gorgeous girl like you. He just praised you so much since its all he ever does. Stephen likes to show you how much hes enjoying himself.
“‘m gonna cum, baby, pleasepleaseplease dont stop.” he whined into your shoulder, shaking his head. sniffles fell from his nose. was he really crying? was he that overstimulated? “im—shit, mm! im cumming!” he thrusts into you, moaning as soon as his seed shot into you.
so it mine el
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
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Typical Day For a Bouncer
I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!
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Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.
Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.
Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.
I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.
"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.
"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?
"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.
"Of course, sir."
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There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!
"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.
I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.
The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.
"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.
"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.
"Yes, sir."
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I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.
That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.
"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.
"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."
"No you don't!" the boy interjects.
"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."
"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"
"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.
Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.
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"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.
Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.
"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.
"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.
Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.
"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.
"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.
"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."
I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."
"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."
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I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.
He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.
"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.
"Yes, sir."
My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.
"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"
"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.
As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?
Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.
Now I'm acting like a dog!
Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.
I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?
There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?
"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.
"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.
Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.
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Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.
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Case 1: How to Soothe Gilbert When He is Upset
Gilbert: "Is that all everyone wants to say?"
All the important officials in Obsidian were gathered in a large conference room.
At the gathering where military personnel of all ages and genders were present, Gilbert, seated in the upper section of the room, was clearly seething with anger.
(I'm not surprised.)
The reports and agendas they were discussing were all filled with an unbearable stench of corruption.
It wasn't because the officials were lazy or incompetent; it was because of the corrupt practices deeply embedded within Obsidian.
(Every time I see Gilbert fighting alone like this, it feels like my heart is being crushed.)
Gilbert: "I'm getting nothing but half-baked progress reports. What do you expect me to do with this?"
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Gilbert: "Your job is to complete the tasks assigned to you. If you can't even do that, then you're neglecting your duties."
Male officer: "With all due respect, Prince Gilbert, the issues we're dealing with are一"
Gilbert: "If they don't change their attitude, then it's better to introduce a new system. You just need to create a draft proposal for that, yeah?"
Male officer: "You're right, sir."
Gilbert: "Why do you impose restrictions on yourselves, calling things impossible and reckless?"
Gilbert: "There is not just one way to achieve a goal."
Gilbert: "If I believe I can accomplish something, then I surely can. You people just lack the capacity."
Gilbert: "Those filthy trash are probably laughing while you all remain at a standstill like this." **
Gilbert: "You know what will happen the next time you give me a report like this, right?"
He got up from his seat with a smirk, and all the soldiers stood up in unison, saluting him.
The tension was so intimidating and overwhelming that I almost forgot to breathe.
Gilbert: "Well then, let's adjourn. Good work, everyone."
He swiftly walked away.
As one of the attendees, I bowed to the military officers and quickly followed after Gilbert.
Emma: "Gil."
Gilbert: "What is it?"
When I called him, he stopped and turned around to face me.
Despite the tense atmosphere, his smile, which contained all the pent-up tension and hostility, was as refreshing as ever.
(But he still seems tense.)
He probably wasn't aware of it, but his eyes weren't fully smiling.
(I think he's planning to inspect the military exercises next.)
(If he goes in this state, everyone will undoubtedly feel uncomfortable.)
(Now that this happens...)
Emma: "Watch this."
I took a coin from the pocket of the dress he had prepared for me.
Emma: "Right now, the coin is in my left hand."
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Gilbert: "I can see that."
I tightly gripped my hand, hiding the coin.
Emma: "Which hand do you think the coin is in now?"
Gilbert: "You want me to say it's on your left, right? But unfortunately..."
He gently grasped my hand and rolled up my sleeve.
Emma: "Hey, that's unfair!"
Gilbert: "You're just inexperienced."
Despite discreetly hiding the coin in my sleeve, Gilbert saw through it instantly.
(Performing magic tricks is really difficult.)
(Or maybe it's because he's my opponent?)
He took the coin from me and flicked it into the air, catching it in his hand.
Gilbert: "Where do you think the coin is now?"
Emma: "I'm pretty sure it's neither in your right nor left hand."
Ignoring his clenched fist, I searched through his sleeves but found nothing.
I tapped various parts of his uniform that seemed like they could hide something, but there was nothing.
(Huh?)
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Gilbert: "The answer is..."
He opened his hand, and I saw the coin sitting on his palms.
(I fell for it.)
Gilbert: "Haha, you're too easy."
Emma: "You usually do something crazy."
Gilbert: "Are you disappointed?"
Emma: "A little."
Gilbert: "You're so honest."
He clenched the coin in his hand once again.
Then, when he opened it, there was nothing there.
Emma: "Huh!?"
Gilbert: "Little bunny."
He pointed to the pocket of my dress with his finger.
With trembling hands, I reached inside and felt something hard.
Emma: "Wow!"
I pulled the coin out of my pocket and gasped.
(I don't understand what's going on, but he's really something.)
Gilbert: "You always react like a child."
Emma: "I can't help it. It's just amazing!"
He chuckled, his eyes reflecting that sentiment.
(I'm glad. Even though the magic trick failed, it seems like he calmed down.)
Gilbert: "But was it really that obvious?"
He seemed to have understood the meaning behind my actions.
Emma: "Yeah."
Gilbert: "Fufu, I'm hopeless, aren't I?"
Emma: "Isn't that why I'm here?"
Emma: "So that you can have some peace of mind?"
As the number of times we attended official functions increased, this feeling only grew stronger.
Gilbert: "You're so efficient."
Emma: "!"
Suddenly, he leaned in and pressed his cold lips against my cheek.
His red eyes reflected my profile with affection.
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Gilbert: "I'm counting on you."
Emma: "Leave it to me!"
(Lately, I've been thinking that maybe I'm the only one who can make him happy.)
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Masterlist ╎ Next Part
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keen-li · 1 day
Text
What you need | 02
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synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? do you even know what you need.
Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.
jungkook x reader.
prev | next
-
'’I’ve been in Seoul for a week now’’ he says hand in pocket, and tall figure towering over you as you just stand there.
‘’oh,’’ you say not knowing what else you could add. Namjoon’s aura is quite intimidating for you.
‘’I’m sorry I delayed your flight though.’’
The awkward smile you’ve got on your face makes him chuckle.
You take the time during his smile to admire the little dents on both his cheeks. You’ve never seen a man with dimples. Or maybe you're just paying too much attention to namjoon's face.
‘’That's alright yn’’ The way he says your name has a little more essence than the way others say it. ‘’I hope you enjoyed your lunch at least’’
You smile at the thought of lunchtime with jungkook. You enjoyed yourself and had your first full meal. Which you’re glad about.
You don't know if it will happen again it jungkook isn't around to force feed you.
‘’yeah I did’’ you smile and Namjoon can tell you’re not smiling at him.
‘’is it a boyfriend?’’ he asks walking on eggshells.
You internally scoff.
‘’that’s personal, don’t you think’’ you say knowing jungkook is far from your boyfriend. But it is personal for him to stick his nose in.
‘’you’re right, I apologize’’ he says, ‘’ I'm overstepping’’ You don't reply instead just let the silence sink in. You think you've indulged in personal conversation for too long. You never go past hi's and hellos when with make customers and neither do you spend so much time admiring their faces, but here you.
‘’what car do you have in mind’’ you change the topic and get to working. You’re not going to get yourself into personal conversations with a client. Last thing you need is more men on your plate.
‘’honestly, all of them’’
You know people like Namjoon, have too much cash and don’t know where to spend it and want to show it off (softly of course)
‘’wow, that’s a lot. Giving me a run for my money’’ you scoff
Namjoon shows you his dimples once more. You walk forward to the first car and Namjoon’s eyes follow your figure.
‘’I think you can handle it’’
-
‘’sorry I'm late’’ You walk to the booth jimin, willoe, and jungkook are sat at. All eyes are on you as you try and calm your breathing.
‘’what happened to you? ’’ willoe spits out eyeing you in concern as you breathe like you’ve got asthma.
‘’got off at the wrong stop and had to power walk here’’ you puff out. Jungkook moves out of the way so you can sit by the window and opposite facing willoe.
‘’you walked? What happened to your car’’ jimin asks staring at you even more concerned. You can see from the look on his face that he’s worried about you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since your phone call. So he takes the time to analyze you.
‘’My car’s in the shop’’ Immediately you say it Jungkook’s eyebrows go up and he turns to face you. You bite your lip and avoid his eyes knowing what’s on his mind after your words.
You fight the urge to laugh nervously.
‘’That’s what happens when you don’t drive it.” Willoe spits out munching on some cheese sticks.
‘’I did drive it’’ for like a week, you honestly don’t even know why you bought the car if you weren’t willing to start driving it. You kinda place the blame on the fact that you recently got your license and are still shit scared of the road. Jungkook offers to help you get comfortable but you always procrastinate.
‘’what shop’s your car in?’’ jungkook eyes you warningly as his tongue grazes his inner cheek. He’s asking to provoke an answer.
‘’just some shop near work’’ You avoid long eye contact cause you know he’s probably feeling some way about it and you don’t want to face it.
‘’you didn’t tell me about it?’’ his words come out like a silent fire and everybody else at the table can feel the heat. So, willoe and Jimin ignore as they look at each other and speak with they’re eyes.
‘’yeah. I saw you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you’’ you spit out a little harsh. You understand what’s got his mood changed but you don't think it’s that big of a deal. You took your car to another auto repair shop, so what? ‘’it’s not that big of a deal kook’’ your words leave you mouth too quick for your liking.
‘’yeah you're right it’s not’’ his tone says otherwise. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being. He can get childish sometimes over nothing and it bugs you.
‘’okay how has everyone been’’ willoe chimes in to change the air and you couldn’t be happier. But you were gonna have to talk about it later anyways.
-
‘’Now that the house is sold I have less work on my plate. Cause that house was impossible to sell’’ She exaggerates her tone and emphasizes how hard it was.
‘’That's great babe, I'm happy for you���’ Jimin rubs his hand on her thigh.
‘’thanks’’ she replies blush on her cheeks.
‘’how about you yn, how’s work?’’ she turns to you, who's mind is so far away.
‘’as horrible as ever but at least I just got a really big client’’ you adjust in your seat.
‘’ou, who?’’ willoe puts her elbows on the table.
‘’just some entrepreneur. I think he lives in France or something’’ you state like it’s nothing.
‘’he?’’ you can see the tease in Jimin’s eyes.
‘’please shut up jimin’’ You roll your eyes and scoff.
‘’what did i do?’’ he shrugs his shoulders amusingly.
‘’I thought you only worked with women?’’ jungkook decides to finally speak to you and it’s nothing more than a shallow inquiry.
‘’It’s not that I only work with women, it’s just that I prefer them over men.” You the words come out a little sharp and bored. You bite awkwardly into your cheese stick.
Jungkook hums.
‘’I know you want to say something’’ you turn back you Jimin as jungkook goes back to being silent after having his query's answered
‘’nope,’’ he shakes his head childishly.
‘’say it’’ you narrow your eyes.
‘’Nothing. Just be careful with these entrepreneurs from Europe’’
‘’why? He’s Korean though’’ you defend.
‘’doesn’t change a thing’’ willoe adds, she’s always on Jimin’s side. That’s what happens when in a debate with a couple.
‘’Their favourite thing is to prey on girls from here and promise them a fantasy’’ jungkook spits out. You can’t believe he’s still sulking.
You look at them as they seem to agree with each other. Why do they always act like they know better than you?
‘’you guys are being so dramatic. I'm not even interested in him like that’’ you insist ‘’plus I promised myself to never date again’’ you say like a vow and jungkook’s heart throbs in his throat.
‘’Whatever, I hope you just stick to your word’’ Jimin mutters with a cheeky smirk pasted on his face.
‘’yeah I will’’ your mood goes down a bit. You will prove them wrong.
You watch the waiter put the food down on your table and willoe is almost drooling.
‘’you’re gonna droll all over the table, babe’’ you hear jimin mock her before she lands a gentle smack on his shoulder and a soft mumble of words leave her mouth.
You turn to stare at jungkook to see if he’s still sulking. He is. You frown at how distant you feel from him when he’s like this.
You’re busy talking about your week and just some funny moments.
You watch willoe and Jimin bicker and it makes you smile at how cute they are.
You’re smiling when you turn to look at jungkook again. Your smile drops when you watch how silent he is and how he hasn’t touched his food.
‘’you okay?’’ he doesn’t seem to catch what you say immediately but when he does his smile and reassurance are unconvincing.
You don't poke more at it. He can’t be seriously this moody over you taking your car else where.
You're forced to stare out the window cause of the awkward silence in Jungkook’s car. The whisper of the wind the only conversation going on.
You haven’t spoken since you left the restaurant. You don’t want to nag him but you’re just worried he’s upset about the car thing when you didn’t mean to make him feel bad.
‘’kook’’ you speak so softly and unsurely you almost think he doesn’t hear. But the hard hum he releases lets you know he’s heard you. Now that you have the floor you wonder if you should even ask, you don't want to irritate him.
‘’Are you mad?’’ he raises his brow at you but still stares at the road. ‘’about the car thing’’
‘’I'm not mad’’ his tone says otherwise.
He takes a turn.
‘’it doesn’t seem that way’’ you ease in more.
‘’well I'm not’’ It comes out sharp and angry causing you to raise your brows ‘’Sorry’’ he murmurs out.
‘’I never meant to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t want to bother you with my junkie car’’ Your car was far from junkie but you’re just spitting out rubbish to ease the tension.
‘’it wouldn’t be a bother’’ he takes another turn. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does cause he’s not really mad, he just has this dull achy feeling in his chest and he doesn’t know why it’s there. But it’s there and making its existence known.
‘’I know, but I’ve seen you. You’ve got so much on your plate’’
You are right.
‘’I know but I just wished you’d told me, I could’ve recommended somebody I know’’
Why jungkook prefers you go to him about car issues is because he knows how some other auto repair shops work. They see women and find an opportunity to swindle. He believes he’s told you enough about it. But he still worries and prefers you tell him and he deals with it.
He pulls over at a red light.
‘’I’m sorry’’ you say taking a risk and bringing your hand into his free one, while the other stays on the wheel. Your body shivers at his warm hold which is contrary to your freezing ones.
You bring his hand to your lips to place a peck on it, just for fun and to catch his reaction. Jungkook crunches his face at the action, not that he minds but it just feels weird.
‘’don’t kiss my hand’’ he chuckles out. Then he interlocks your fingers together.
In your friendship you’ve become comfortable with this little holds and touches, so nothing feels weird about this. Just comforting.
‘’why?’’ you question with a huge teasing smile on your face.
‘’cause I'm the one who should be kissing yours’’
You watch him pull your hand to his lips. With his eyes locked on yours, he places a tender kiss on the skin.
The action soothes the ache in Jungkook’s heart, slightly. It brings some form of comfort to him.
You smile when he pulls his lips away, you can feel his lips still tingle on your skin.
You don’t know what to do but smile. At least he doesn’t seem to be mad.
The green light causes him to pull his eyes back to the road.
You try to pull your hand away from his so that it’s easier for him to drive. But his grip tightens around your hand, you raise a brow at him confused.
‘’ your hands are cold, I’m just warming them’’ he smirks and his thump caresses your skin.
--
‘’you don't wanna come up?’’ you lean against the window and wait for his response. ‘’I have banana milk?’’ you bribe.
He sucks air between his teeth ‘’it’s tempting, but I can't’’
‘’Maybe next time?’’ he bargains and you nod.
‘’yeah sure’’ you back away from his car.
‘’I’ll call you though’’ he says before he drives away, almost reluctantly. He watches you figure through the side mirror and watch his car disappear. The sad look on your face makes jungkook want to turn around.
But its not a sad look, more of a ‘I’m grateful to have you as a friend’ look.
When you’re back in your apartment and into your warm comfy bed. You throw your coat somewhere on the floor and make a mental note to pick it up soon, it was too expensive to throwing on the floor. But you’re exhausted.
Your mind slowly and unintentionally slips to the moment and feeling of jungkook holding your hand. You’ve held hands before but in the car, it felt...
In that moment for the first time, you never thought of yunho.
Ring, ring.
You groan when you hear your phone ring. It could be willoe cause she promised to call when she got home, but knowing willoe she’d never call cause she would forget to. Or it could even be jungkook. Your heart jumps at the thought.
Your smile drops and you let the phone ring to voicemail when you see the name that’s there. Unchanged still saved with the red heart and teddy bear emoji. You wonder why you never deleted it.
That sick and horrible feeling returns when you see the text that follows up on your screen.
Yunnie: I know you probably don't wanna talk to me, but I really wanted to hear your voice.
Yunnie: I've missed you.
Yunnie: are you free this weekend, I wanna talk things out.
You have a mix of emotions going through you and you can’t think. You could honestly throw up. Why the fuck is he texting you and why the fuck do you feel your heart pound.
The feeling gets even worse when a message from jungkook pops up and you open his chat.
[image]
Kook: goodnight bunny, <3
The picture of him on his couch with his black t-shirt and pajamas on and bunny smile in view causes you to smile. It almost makes you forget your dilemma for a second.
You: goodnight kook <3
68 notes · View notes
bellysoupset · 3 days
Note
I would love to see Leo and Jonah sick at the same time ^^
maybe one of them has food posioning and the other has been hiding some sort of stomach bug for a while that happens to show it’s face then?
if not that’s fine but would really like to see this!
-🪼
(First time submitting an ask :D)
This was sent before you switched to the 🧋anon tag.
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Also requested by @vdoggg!
Food Poisoning - Part 3.
A continuation of Leo's birthday fic. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here.
--------------------
Leo was lying on the bed, curled up and trying to make sense if he was about to puke again, when he heard the front door opening. JD lifted up her head from where she had been happily kneading his thigh and he breathed out.
“It’s just Jon,” Leo grumbled, not moving a muscle. Jonah hadn’t texted him, but Leo had enough sense to figure out who had eaten the missing cupcakes and why he was back earlier than usual. 
As if to confirm his point, he heard hurried steps and then the noise of liquid hitting liquid and Jonah’s signature loud burp down the hall, as he probably burst into the guest bathroom. Leo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and waiting a second as the room spun around him. 
He had originally thought it was a simple overeating bellyache, even when he puked again as they arrived home, chalking that up to the vestiges of nausea and carsickness. Halfway through the night though, while Jonah was peacefully asleep, Leo was wrecked by the cramps in his lower belly and had given up on that notion as the runs hit him.
Leo felt mildly guilty he hadn’t been awake enough that morning to warn Jonah this was definitely food poisoning, then maybe his fiancee wouldn’t have eaten the cupcakes.
Grabbing on the walls to keep himself upright, Leo made his slow track down the hall and sighed as he found exactly what he had predicted. Jonah curled up in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl with arms, his shoulders hitching with a retch.
“Shit,” Leo sighed, slumping against the door and taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry, Jon.”
A burp answered him, followed by more liquid splashing and then a pitiful whimper. Leo slowly entered the bathroom, which was much too small for the two men, and sat down on the cold ground, planting a hand on his fiance’s back. 
He didn’t have the energy to rub, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind. After a couple minutes the other man finished coughing and raised a shaky hand to flush the toilet, so Leo grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and passed it to him. He heard Jon blow his nose, then flush again and finally he turned to look at Leo. 
Leo cringed, his boyfriend looked damn near gray and his lips were a terrible pale shade. He had sweat beading all over his face, gluing his curls down to his temples, “Jon, are you-”
“Threw up- threw up in front of a patient,” Jonah informed him, in a little strangled voice. He closed his eyes, as if wincing at the memory, “I really don’t feel good.”
“I know,” Leo said truthfully, scooting closer. He couldn’t emphasize enough how much he understood Jon’s plight, given that just walking the short distance between their bedroom and the guest bathroom had caused his nausea to increase all over again, “I’m really sorry, Jon.”
“Not your fault,” Jonah groaned, turning to the toilet once more and spitting in it, planting a hand on his chest and massaging a burp up, “fuck…”
Leo tipped his head back against the cold tiles of the bathroom, trying to ignore the angry gurgling of his belly and how he felt like acid was crawling up his throat. He took a measured breath, gulping down, then startled as he felt a hand touching him.
Jonah let out a small snort at his jerkiness and Leo frowned, taking a second to realize Jonah was checking his vitals. He was being gentle, but the slight pressure on his Adam's apple was not helping Leo gulp down the nausea, so he pulled back.
“What are you doing…?”
“You’re really, really pale,” Jon frowned at him, “when did you last drink water?”
“You’re the one throwing up,” Leo pointed out with a pout, bringing his knees up to his chest, “are you done?”
Jonah shrugged, not reassuring him in the least, “I’m fine,” he said, using the toilet to pull himself up and then promptly leaning over the sink with a deafening retch. Leo scoffed, dizzily rubbing Jon’s thigh since he didn’t feel like he could get up now that he had sat down.
‘You’re fine, uh?”
A wet burp, followed by Jonah letting out a groan and wrapping an arm around his stomach… Then whimpering, “oh no,” and bent on the middle, clutching his belly. Leo raised his eyebrows.
“Jon…?”
“You need- I need you to get out,” Jonah groaned through clenched teeth, “now.”
“What… Why?” Leo tried to pull himself up, only to find that he really couldn’t and Jonah whimpered again.
“Fuck, Leo, I’m gonna shit my pants, get out-”
“I’m trying!” The blonde exclaimed, darting out a hand and grabbing the bathroom sink, in order to pull himself up, since his fiancee was of no help at all. On the contrary, Jonah seemed to have tuned him out, too preoccupied with the sour state of his intestines. 
“Leo…”
“I’m-I’m go-” Leo didn’t finish his sentence, because being upright so quickly caused his head to swim, so instead of leaving the bathroom, he clutched the granite of the sink for dear life, breathing through his mouth, ears ringing and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. The queasiness that had been on the back burner until then, jumped up tenfold and Leo couldn’t do anything as he leaned forward and brought up a gush of pale yellow vomit in the basin.
Vaguely he heard Jonah groan and then the noise of his boyfriend falling sit on the toilet, sickness overriding any modesty.
Leo coughed, gasping for air and still white knuckling the sink. It felt like his head was floating. He gagged once more as he heard the noise of Jonah’s intestines emptying out and his fiancee let out a humiliated whine.
“I’m sorry, this is so gross, I-” Jonah all but whimpered, a sound so alien in his voice that it made Leo snap slightly back in reality. 
He shook his head, opening the tap and washing away the vomit, before washing his mouth and forcing up a small burp. Leo hung over the sink, unsure if his belly was done with him. 
“Jon?” he called after a minute, splashing some water on his face to try to get rid of the woozy sensation that he was about to pass out. 
A cough answered him and Leo turned to look at his boyfriend, then groaned in sympathy. Jonah had grabbed the bin and planted it on his lap, as his own stomach joined his body’s attempt at purging. 
“Aww angel,” Leo stumbled slightly forward, planting a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and squeezing his nape, “get it up, worst is almost over…”
Jonah’s whole body lurched with a big belch, that brought up another large wave of vomit inside their bathroom bin. Leo brought up a fist to his mouth and muffled a gag, turning his face away. He wasn’t one to get sympathy sick, but this was a gruesome sight when his stomach was already so upset.
He looked up at the ceiling, waiting until Jonah stopped heaving, then dared to glance down as the other man rasped out, “I’m done… I think I’m done…”
“Let me take this,” Leo took a forceful breath and retrieved the bin from Jonah’s hand, planting it on top of the sink and tying the trashbag, “do you need help…?”
“I’d rather die,” Jonah scoffed, wrapping both arms around his stomach and rocking softly, “bloody hell, Leo, it was just… Just two cupcakes, how the hell-”
“I don’t know,” Leo rubbed his face, frustrated, then grabbed the trashbag and fortified himself for the journey of getting out of the bathroom so Jon could get up and shower, “I’m going… I’m gonna give you some privacy. But I’m gonna leave the door open, okay?”
Not that he really could do anything in case Jonah slipped and fell in the shower, considering Leo was barely holding his own weight up. Jon was graceful enough not to mention it, though Leo wasn’t sure his boyfriend was even listening. Instead he was taking little rapid breaths, a sickly little burp sneaking up on him.
“Babe?”
“Bin-” Jonah’s voice was thick with nausea, “Leo- Gimme-”
Leo quickly pulled the tied trashbag out of the bin and passed the empty bucket back to Jonah, thankful that it wasn’t a hollowed out metal bucket like others they had in the house. Jon leaned over it immediately, barely retching before liquid sprayed from his mouth, then his back arched with a more violent heave. 
“Jesus,” Leo whispered, starting to panic. This was quite violent and he hated that he couldn’t help as much as he wanted to. His legs were shaking and his own tummy was squeezing and cramping, intestines building a riot inside of him. Leo ignored the horrible sensation of his body revolting against him, in order to plant a shaky hand on Jonah’s shoulder and keep him from falling off the toilet. 
After what felt like an eternity, Jonah planted the bin on the ground and his elbows on his knees, groaning, “fuck…” 
Leo squeezed his shoulder, “I’m- Uhm- Are you-you done…?” 
Jon’s head snapped up and he frowned at Leo’s sluggish sentences. Even exhausted and wrung dry, he hadn’t been losing liquids for as long as the other man had and was more alert. 
“Leo, sit down,” he bossed and Leo shook his head, sweat breaking on his forehead and gluing his shirt down. 
“Can’t- Don’t feel well…” He forced the words out, “are you okay…?”
“I’m fine,” Jonah stressed, “please, can you just sit down for a minute? I just need to shower-”
Leo nodded, then stumbled back and sat on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, whole body going down as if he was a broken doll. Jonah felt the start of panic prickling him, running his options through his mind. 
Despite wanting to stay under the hot water for the rest of the day, Jon forced himself to keep the shower to only a minute, wrapping a towel around his hip and ignoring the way his belly was grumbling and whining all over again. He couldn’t even understand how he wasn’t empty yet. 
Leo was in the exact same spot, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jonah crouched down, touching his fiance’s pale, slack face and hating the way he could feel Leo’s rapid heart beat. 
“You’ve been puking since yesterday, this isn’t good,” Jon sighed, patting Leo’s cheeks, “baby, open your eyes.”
“Gon’besick,” Leo groaned, instead of obeying and Jonah jerked back just in time to avoid getting his arm coated in vomit, as Leo’s head hung and bright yellow bile splashed on his shirt. 
Jonah groaned, sympathy sickness making his stomach squeeze and he didn’t have it in him to fight it, he turned his head and gagged. It took forever for his stomach to settle and he could feel Leo was still dry heaving, even without looking. 
“We need help,” Jonah said, forcing himself to look at the mess and deciding there was no way he could handle this alone, when his body was hellbent on getting ready of any fluid he had ever consumed. 
Leo let out a little whimper as an answer and Jonah made up his mind.
—------------
“Christ,” Luke’s voice was much too loud in their quiet apartment and Jon jerked from the small nap he was taking in the middle of the hallway. He had managed to strip Leo out of his ruined shirt and changed into boxers himself instead of only a towel, but that was it. Moving Leo had been out of the question. 
“Leo first,” Jonah opened his eyes, his head was pounding from all the heaving and coughing, “I think he needs a hospital…” 
Lucas didn’t argue, crouching down in front of them and touching Leo’s cheeks, patting them softly, “Leo. Leo, hey-” he shook him a little harder, until the blonde let out a groan and opened his eyes. His face immediately twisted into a frown, the cramps hitting him now that he was awake.
“Luke…?” Leo groaned, curling up as much as he could, but Lucas was having none of it. He forced the other man to open up and threw an arm around his neck. 
“C’mon,” Luke’s voice came out strained as he managed to pull Leo up on his feet, “couch with you. You need to drink something.”
“Gonna… Gonna go right through-” Leo groaned, his head lolling and he pressed his nose to Luke’s neck, “won’tssstay down- Where’s Jon?”
“He’s fine,” Lucas managed to plant Leo on the couch, then grabbed some cushions and planted them under Leo’s legs, “I brought stuff.”
“What did you bring…?” Jonah tried to get up from the hallway, only to find that he was much weaker than he thought. His face burned with embarrassment as he too had to be hugged by Luke and pulled up. 
“Everything the drugstore would sell me without a prescription,” Luke huffed, planting Jonah in the opposite couch to Leo’s and then heading to the door in order to retrieve his grocery bag. He put it down on the coffee table, then removed a gatorade bottle, and five different medicine bottles. 
“Here,” Luke handed Jonah two different pills and a bottle of gatorade, “try holding these down.”
“Where’s JD?” Leo whispered from the other couch. He had curled up as much as he could and Jonah winced at the sight of him, throwing Lucas a panicked glance. He didn’t like at all the shade of white Leo had reached.
“What?” Luke asked, walking closer. For Leo he opened the gatorade bottle and stuck a straw inside of it.
The blonde made a face as the straw was pressed to his lips, trying to move away, “she must be starving…”
“I’ll look for JD in a minute,” Lucas ushered him closer, “just one sip, Leo. If you can’t then we’re gonna go to the hospital.”
The vague threat worked, because Leo finally took a gulp. Jonah watched him anxiously, already so familiar with the way his boyfriend worked that he fully expected to see the drink come up within seconds. When that didn’t happen, he allowed himself to fully collapse against the couch’s cushions. 
“How long has this been going on?” Lucas’ voice was distant, followed by a meow and then his footsteps. JD meowing louder. Jonah turned his head, fighting valiantly the urge to go to sleep and scoffed as he saw Luke clutching JD in his hands. 
“Don’t squeeze her like that,” he glared at the other man, while from the opposite couch Leo let out a pained groan. 
“Luke-” It was a whimper, and then Lucas dropped JD and lurched just in time to catch the mouthful of gatorade in the crumpled groceries paperbag. Jonah squeezed his eyes to avoid looking at the mess, feeling even worse that he was so useless. 
His own stomach churned uneasily and Jonah rolled on his side, focusing on breathing in and out and not on how awful he felt that he couldn’t be of any comfort or help as Leo continued to dry heave. 
“Fuck,” Lucas said and Jonah dared to open his eyes. Leo had fallen against their friend, white as a corpse, and not even fighting it as Luke wiped his lips with his thumb, puke be damned. 
“Hospital,” Jonah bossed, even dizzy as he was, “take him.”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded, carefully pushing Leo against the couch’s back, “Bella is coming over, she just stopped to buy us food. We’ll wait for her.” 
“Nooo-” Jonah shook his head, then his stomach clenched violently and he gagged, but all that fell on the floor was a clear line of spit, “don’t-”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lucas said harshly, crossing the room and forcing Jonah to sit up correctly, then grabbing a bucket and pushing it on his lap, “and Leo’s not gonna die in the fifteen minutes it’ll take her to get here. Chill.”
“Can’t…” Jonah mumbled miserably, too tired to hide how raw he felt, when Leo was this sick. He felt like crying and probably would have, if he wasn’t so dehydrated, “can’t chill.”
Luke’s frown softened up, replaced by all concern and sympathy and he crouched down in front of Jonah, grabbing the gatorade bottle once more, ‘yeah, I know, man. But I’m looking out for both of you. You trust me?”
Jon hesitated, then nodded, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes and the other man pushed the cold bottle in his hand, “take another sip. Bell is nearly here, I’m going to pack Leo a bag.”
True to what Luke had said, not more than ten minutes later, Bella entered the apartment. She was carrying another set of groceries and in true pragmatic fashion didn’t spare them even a look, heading straight to the kitchen to empty their fridge of the possibly tainted food and repack it. 
“Okay,” Luke walked back to Leo, with a backpack around his shoulder, “let’s go, Leo.”
“Jonah…” Leo mumbled dizzily, burying his face in Luke’s chest, “Jon’s sick too-”
“I know, but he’s in better shape than you,” Luke grunted, pulling Leo up and stumbling a little, “Bell will stay here to keep him company.” 
“JD-”
“She’s fine,” Bella said softly, rushing ahead to open the door for them and picking up the cat when she tried to sneak past her legs. The woman held up the kitten so Leo could see it and he blinked blearily, clearly feeling too awful to string things together. 
“She’s hungry…”
“I’ll feed her,” Bella vowed and Luke huffed, tightening up his hold on Leo as the blonde started to slip down. 
“Everything is fine here, we’re gonna be back in no time,” Luke promised, dragging him away. Finally they were alone, Jonah and Bella, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He curled up even more on the couch and almost smiled when JD jumped from Bell’s arms to come pester him.
“That’s some food poisoning,” Bell wrinkled her nose, walking closer, “how you holding up, Jon?”
“Not well,” Jonah leaned his head against the couch’s arm. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt an immense relief at knowing Leo was on his way to getting fluids. He didn’t think he needed to say anything to Bell, she always seemed to just know.
“Did you throw up the meds?”
“Nope,” he planted a hand on his unsettled, bloated stomach, “but I might.” 
“Well, try not to,” Bella rolled her eyes, then dangled her fingers for JD, “pspspsps, let’s have dinner, poor thing. You must be starving.”
Jonah stayed quiet as he heard Bella move around in the kitchen, serving JD her food and sorting through the mess. He continued to sip on his gatorade, only to find that had been a mistake when a sharp burp brought up a splash of acidic liquid to his throat. 
“Fuck me,” Jon groaned, curling up and trying to massage the burps out of his belly before he ended up wasting all the hard work to keep down his meds. 
“Don’t do that,” Bella circled the coffee table, holding a tall mug filled with coffee for herself. She unceremoniously pushed his leg to the side so they could share the couch and leaned in, slapping Jonah’s hand away from his belly, “let me.”
“Bella…” Jonah’s face burned with embarrassment, which got even worse when she pressed her fingers against his sloshy, bloated belly and it immediately caused a sick burp to erupt.
Bell rolled her eyes, smirking at him, “relax, I promise I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
Jon scoffed, cupping his mouth and belching again, his throat aching with the force behind it, “please.”
“Maybe just Leo,” Bella grinned, sliding her hand over the curve of his sick belly and chuckling when Jonah let out a groan at her threat. 
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scarisd3ad · 2 days
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Jump then fall | Steve Harrington x reader
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Chapter one - everything has changed
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Summary - after 7 years of being split apart from your childhood friend Steve you return to hawkins after your younger sisters tragic death, and parents messy divorce. But the Steve you came back to isn’t the same Steve you left behind.
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"Steve!" Steve was surrounded by two of his new friends, Tommy and his girlfriend Carol, as I skipped up to him. They were both in 8th grade like Steve. carol looked me up and down as I stood in front of the trio. Steve had an annoyed look on his face from the moment I opened my mouth. Ever since he became friends with Tommy and Carol, it seemed as if I was just another inconvenience for Steve. "What?" the words are harsh as they come out of his mouth, almost like he was stabbing me right in the heart. But despite the achy feeling in my chest, I continued to talk. "wanna come over after school? My dad is working, so he won-"
"God, you are so annoying," Steve scoffs, which makes my brow furrow together in confusion. Steve has been a sweet boy ever since the moment I met him in kindergarten, but the moment he entered the 8th grade it was like a switch flipped inside of him. He no longer cared about his mother or his real friends he only care about popularity, girls, and being an absolute asshole to everyone around him. "Wh-what?" the words come out quiet and meek, the confusion still setting in as my eyes flicked from him to Tommy and then to Carol. Both his friends chuckled, probably because of the tears pooling in my eyes. "I said, you are fucking annoying! can't you go find someone else to cling onto?"
It seemed like time had stopped. Everyone around us stared, some laughed, and some whispered. Was I sent into a parallel universe because this wasn't the Steve I had grown to know? My chest heaved as I blinked back tears. "I-I'm sorry I thought-I thought-" I couldn't get the words out fast enough because Steve was shouting again before I could finish my sentence. "What that I was, your friend? I only hung out with you 'cause I felt bad that your sister died" This wasn't about Sara. He didn't need to bring her up. He knew it was a sore subject. The wound was still fresh. He knew it was still fresh. This felt like he was sticking a knife into that barely healed wound.
I want to punch him; I want to tackle him down to the ground and kill him just because he brought up my sister. "Your mom didn't even like you, so why should I? She dodged a bullet, leaving you." Maybe it was my mind making it up, but it felt like everyone around me was cackling at his words, at my tears, at my fists clenching and unclenching themselves. it hurt, it hurt so bad because I trusted him. I thought he was my best friend, but he wasn't. he was an evil lying bitch.
Before he can say anything else, I'm running away. I ran out of the school and to the group of telephones that stood outside against the school. I immediately punched in my father's work number as heavy sobs racked through my body. The phone rang a good three times before the secretary, Flo, answered the call.
"Hello, this is Hawkins police station. My name is Flo. How may I help you?" Flo was an older lady with dark hair and big, round glasses that sat on the brim of her nose. I sniffled before wiping my eyes. "He-hey Flo, can I talk to my dad?" I asked. Flo must've not noticed I was crying because she instantly transferred me to my father. The phone rang once before my dad answered, "Yeah what ya need?" Dad asks, "Da-daddy can you-you come get me?" I asked through sobs. I could almost hear the confusion in his voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" I don't answer due to the sobs that continue to erupt from my body. My brain was asking the same question repeatedly. Why would he do that to me? I thought we were friends. "I-I-please Dad," he grumbles quietly, "alright I'll be there in a few minutes."
I stood on the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my body, waiting. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks when my dad's blazer pulled up beside me. I quickly get into the car, throwing my backpack in the back seat, and slamming the door shut before curling up in a ball, leaning my head against the glass. My father didn't immediately begin driving, instead deciding to interrogate me. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"
"Steve," I whispered as more tears fell down my cheek. "Wh-what'd he do?" he asked, brows curling into a furrow. Dad knew Steve as a sweet boy, not someone who could ever hurt me. "He-he said...said I was annoying a-a-and that I was clingy." I said through sobs "And he-he said he was only my friend because he fe-felt bad because Sara die-died, that, m-mom didn't like me so why should he, a-and that she do-dodged a bullet leaving." His blood was boiling, I could tell. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Before I could even ask him what he was doing, he was already out of the car and halfway towards the front door. 
-
I wasn't a total nerd or loser. I was just normal, but I wasn't a Heather or a Carol. I was just me. I wasn't even the attractive type of normal person like Nancy Wheeler. I was just average. I was standing at my locker waiting for my friend Stephanie. We always met up at my locker before walking to English. Steph was popular. Sometimes I ask myself how I scored a friend like her. She was beautiful and kind. Everybody liked her and everybody had a reason why. The boys liked her because she was pretty, and the girls liked her because she was kinder than the other popular girls. Her curly hair bounced as she sauntered up to me. Her lips formed in a sweet smile as her hands pressed against her hips.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and a green bow was placed in her hair to match her green cheerleading uniform. "You coming to the game tonight?" she asked as she leaned her body against the locker next to me. "Maybe I Dunno. I have a lot of homework tonight," I whisper. I'm momentarily distracted by Steve walking by with his arm around his new plaything, Lisa Franklin, a cheerleader like Steph, but unlike Steph, Lisa was an absolute bitch. Despite the hurtful things Steve Harrington said to me, my crush on him never completely disappeared. Sometimes it felt like it was hidden away, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface. 
Whenever I saw him walk by or heard him speak in any of our shared classes, my heart would skip a beat and my feelings for him would come flooding back. It was frustrating and confusing, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I feel two arms wrapping around my body, drawing my attention away from Steve. I glance over and see that it's Shawn Peterson. My relationship with Shawn is a bit complicated. We do things that most people in a romantic relationship do, but we don't use labels because he 'doesn't like labels'.
Shawn's a football player who's popular enough to be kind of friends with Steve. His hair is a dark, chocolate brown that falls in natural waves, framing a face that is both masculine and handsome. But it's his stunning brown eyes that steal the show, sparkling with an intensity that could make any girl weak in the knees. "So, you coming tonight?" he asks as he presses a kiss to my neck. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe still Dunno though," I whisper. He groans as he presses a kiss just below my ear. "c'mon my parents aren't home tonight; we can go to mine afterward," I hum as I turn so I'm facing him. If I go, I have to tell my dad I'm at Steph's house and if I do that, I have the risk of him calling her parents to verify.
despite the risks, I smile up at him and whisper, "yeah okay sure." 
-
I sat on the bleachers watching as Steph cheered. my hands were buried deep into my pockets as I zoned out. No matter how much I loved Steph and Shawn, I'll always find high school football games a little boring. I didn't understand football and no matter how many times Shawn tried explaining it to me, I always left the conversation a little more confused than I was before. I feel someone sit down beside me, but I don't care enough to look to see who it is.
"hey," an all too familiar voice whispers. That makes me look up because I haven't heard that voice talking to me in years. Steve Harrington sat next to me, dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing at school earlier that day. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute, and my hands beginning to shake. I can't tell if I'm nervous because I'm scared or because I have feelings for him. "What?" I mutter back, my voice a little harsher than I expected. Despite the fact he had been so mean to me back in 7th grade, I never wanted to be mean back. I couldn't get myself to do it.
"You here for Shawn?" Steve asks, his left hand tapping away at the metal bench. I nod replying "Yup" he hums as he nods awkwardly "Sooo...is he your y'know boyfriend?" I shrug "It's complicated..." he nods, a quiet hum coming from his lips. Why did he want to talk now? He hasn't talked to me in 3 years, but now randomly he wants to talk like nothing ever happened, like he never whispered to his friends when I walked by or spread rumors about me. "Why are you talking to me?" I ask brows curling in confusion as I stare up at him.
"wh-oh I-I just wanted to talk," he mutters back. he didn't want to talk for years before this, so why'd he want to talk now? After everything he's done to me, why now? I'm silent as I search his face for any signs that he's messing with me. But there's nothing, not a smirk, or some type of glint in his eyes, just brows furrowed together in confusion. I decided to look around to see if any of his friends were nearby snickering to themselves, but still, I didn't see any of them.
"wh-what are you looking for?" he asks. I quickly pivot my body towards him again. "Are you fucking with me again Steve?" he lets out a shocked little gasp before hurling into saying "No, no I'm not I just thought we could talk y'know since we haven't in a while" That infuriates me because he knows damn well why we aren't talking. "You know why we haven't talked in a while," I mutter as I scoot away from him. "c'mon y/n that was so long ago," he says, elongating the 'o' at the end of ago. I scoff rolling my eyes. "Yeah fuck you," I say as I scoot away from him a little more. He sighs defeated before asking, "How's your dad?" I shrug, muttering a quiet "fine," he nods awkwardly "You still live in the same house?" I shake my head. "No, moved a few years back."
We sit awkwardly, both of us not speaking as the football team comes running out on the field. Most of the people around us roar in applause and shouts of excitement, including Steve. he stands to his feet clapping before cupping his hands together in front of his mouth and shouting "Yeahhh Shawn!!" I cringe a little inside. Steve, like every other popular guy and athlete at the school, were filled with so much school spirit it made me physically cringe. he sat back down looking at me, as I stared at my feet trying to hold back laughter. "What?" a smile cracks to his lips as I let out a few quiet giggles. "Nothing...nothing" he laughs, and for a few quick minutes our old dynamic came back.
"Seriously? C'mon, what?" cover my mouth with my hand as I continue to laugh. I shake my head, refusing to say anything as our laughter dies down. And just like that, we were back to two estranged friends who hadn't held a conversation for more than 2 minutes for the past 3 years, almost. "y'know your dad punched me that day?" I look up at him, brows furrowing as I whisper a quiet "What?"
"He punched me when I was in eighth grade. " It all comes back, my father storming into the school after admitting to him what Steve had said to me. "good" I wouldn't normally expect my father, a grown man, to punch a 13-year-old, but in that instance, I don't blame him. If I was him and a guy like Steve had told my daughter the things Steve had told to me, I would've done more than just punched him. Steve laughs almost as if he was agreeing with me "Yeah...I was an asshole" I roll my eyes, was? Steve Harrington was still an asshole. "still" I say correcting him. Now it's his turn to ask "What?" I roll my eyes yet again as I say, "You're still an asshole", he frowns as he nods slowly "Yeah...I guess" At least he could admit it. 
-
Once the game ended, I bid Steve a quiet goodbye and went to the parking lot. I wait by Shawn's car for about 10 minutes until I see Shawn walking towards it, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and hair damp. Steve walked next to him, both chatting about who knows what. Shawn drops his bag onto the hood of his car before scooping me up into a kiss.
Returning his kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I try to enjoy the kiss, but unfortunately, I can't because I can practically feel Steve's glare. I pull away, eyes meeting with Steve's. His brows are knitted together in an angry, or jealous type of furrow, and his arms are crossed over his chest. "You did so good out there," I say, pretending like I wasn't zoning out every 10 seconds. "mhm" Shawn hums before pressing his lips back against mine.
Steve clears his throat, making Shawn and I pull apart yet again. "well I'm gonna go. "See ya later, dude... um, nice talking to you again, y/n," Steve says before he starts walking towards his BMW, that was parked a few cars down.
The drive to Shawn's house is short and quiet. The only noise present is the low hum of the radio, and our breathing. When we get into his room, his hands are almost immediately all over my body. His lips touch mine, and his hands slide up and down the sides of my body before deciding to rest comfortably against my hips. The room is already somehow hot, and we're both out of breath when the sound of the phone (which sat on his nightstand) begins to ring.
BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG.
The sound of the phones rings is shrill and cuts through the quiet house like a knife. Shawn groans before pulling away from me. He crawls up his bed before answering the phone. Leaning against the headboard, he says, "Hello?"" in a very annoyed tone. "Oh, hey dude...no you weren't interrupting anything." the last bit drips in sarcasm as he says it.
"Yeah...yeah she's here, what'dya need?" I know he's talking about me because no one else is here, but I don't have a clue about who he's talking to. His brows furrow in confusion as the muffled sound of the other person talking comes out of the receiver. Then he scoffs as he shakes his head. "No, I'm not gonna do that sorry Steve." Steve? Why would Steve be asking about me? "Dude, you can't just ask me to do that" Shawn's eyes flick over to me before he whispers "I've gotta go alright? yeah, yeah, see you later." Shawn says before hanging up the phone.
"What was that about?" I ask. He hums quietly before hesitantly saying "Um...he just wanted to ask me if he could copy my homework" My brows furrow. There's no way Shawn would have made a big deal out of copying homework. They always copied each other work, so there was no way that's what Steve had asked. There was no world in which Shawn would have answered like that to needing to copy his homework.
As I press my hands into the soft cushion of Shawn's mattress, I sigh and whisper, "I should go... my dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out I stayed out late." Shawn nods before asking "Need a ride?" I nod, pushing myself up off the mattress and to my feet. "Yeah, but drop me off a few miles out. Don't need my dad knowing you're there."
A few years back, after my father's divorce was settled, and I was adjusted in school, my father sold our old family house. Claiming there were too many bad memories there, then he promptly moved us out to a cabin in the woods, much to 12-year-old Me's dismay. The cabin had supposedly been my grandfather's. his father, aka my grandfather, skipped out on the 'wondrous' opportunity to live in the shithole, so it had been abandoned for years since my great-grandfather died. It's a shitty log cabin, two beds and one bath that sat in the middle of the woods.
I hate being at that place alone. The doors creek, and the trees around it whistle with every gust of wind. I swear I'm going to be murdered one day in it and it'll be all Dad's fault for moving us out there. I didn't know why he couldn't have just moved us into some moderately shitty apartment or even keep us at the old house. 
-
Shawn's car slowly drives down a dirt road in the middle of the woods. His high beams shining ahead of us to make sure there wasn't some animal (or person) in our way. About halfway towards my house, Shawn stops the car. From there, it would be about a 10-minute walk up to the house. "I can walk you up there if you want me to," he says, his voice quiet as if he thought my father would somehow hear him all the way out here. "No, I'm fine...but thanks anyway. See you on Monday," I say as I push open the car door. I sling my bag over my shoulder as I begin the walk towards my house. Shawn waits until I'm out of sight from his car to turn around and it's the 5-minute drive back to the main road.
I arrive at my bedroom window. I don't even notice my dad stood leaned up against the door frame until I'm fully inside my room. I'm left staring at my father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, angrily glaring at me. "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU?" my mouth gaped open as I began to say something but decided it was better not to. "GO ON TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WHERE" I let out a groan as I matched my father cross my arms over my chest "I was at the football game," I say with an eye-roll as I toss my backpack on my bed.
He scoffs "THE FOOTBALL GAME ENDED AT 8:30 SO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 2 HOURS!" his voice echoes through my room as I begin to talk, "God you're being so dramatic. A few friends and I went to Shawn's to celebrate after the game." his face is red, and his fists clench and unclench before he begins to shout again. "YEAH, WE'LL SINCE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PICK UP A PHONE AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE I DON'T WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS!" my eyes widen as I shout "What! that's not fair! I'm babysitting this weekend!"
"well, you're going to call whoever you're babysitting for this weekend and tell them that you can't make it anymore, and I don't want you using this phone this weekend either," he says as he goes to unplug the phone from the wall. I let out a loud dramatic "ugh!" which is then followed by me shouting "I hate you!"
As he walks out of the room he says, "Yeah well I fucking hate you too" I dramatically sit down on my bed before shouting again "You're such a fucking asshole!" he turns brows furrowing as he says, "What did you just call me", I'm not scared of him, I never have. He thinks I am, but I never will. "I said you're a fucking asshole," I repeat as my arms cross over my chest. He scoffs as he says, "I'll show you how much of an asshole I can be" before slamming my bedroom door behind him. 
I sit on my bed, arms crossed like a bratty toddler as tears pricked in my eyes. it wasn't fair. I've gotten home late a handful of times and he never gotten angry any of those times, why did he always pick and choose when he wanted to blow up? I wonder what it would be like right now if I was still in New York with my mother. would she be blowing up on me right now too? would she be cool about things like this? or was she strict? but I guess I'll never know because she gave up on me and our family.
I feel bad after fighting with him, I always feel bad. I know deep down he loves me; he just doesn't really know how to show it anymore. I crave that fatherly love that gets rationed out from time to time. I think that's why we fight so much; I crave the affection; he doesn't know how to show it. when he's not working, he sits on his chair, or in his bedroom practically in a catatonic state staring at the tv or a wall, we eat dinner in our separate rooms we don't talk unless we're screaming at each other, or I've got my head laid in his lap as I profusely apologize for what had happened. we're both traumatized i know that we both lost so much, but he should at least try. he knows I don't have any other parental figures in my life, and he still chooses to be distant and cold.
I sigh arms falling to my sides, pressing against my soft mattress. sometimes in the spur of the moment I wish he had died, and I know he thinks the same about me. I always feel bad afterwards though. even though I live with him, I don't know my father at all, he's a stranger to me. the only time we feel like father and daughter is when he's bossing me around. it's absolutely bazar that I feel the same way about my father that I do my absent mother. it's actually like they're both absent in their own ways, dad emotionally, and mom physically. he totally gave up after sara died, I mourn my father in the same way i mourn my dead sister. I just want the old him back, the dad who chased us around the park, and took us out for ice cream, the dad who never even thought to yell at me even if i had stollen a car.
I just want him back.
-
Taglist
@sheisjoeschateau @nothankyou138 @gleefulleve @luluw-20 @skrzydlak @halflifejess @natalie-flo @castleallherown
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mrwavellswaps · 2 days
Note
Swap, Hypno, TF
Henry Cavill, Ryan Gosling, Jake Gyllenhaal
Another great set of options here! But I think I already know who I’m swapping with.
Jake Gyllenhall. Like come on it’s gotta be. That man is just so fucking gorgeous. I’ll be honest though it’s a very close call between him and Ryan Gosling. I adore both of them and if Jake hadn’t been there I absolutely would’ve swapped with Ryan no question. It’s one of those that’s so close that my mind could change depending on the day but right now I’m dead set on Jake and his incredibly sexy looks.
That said I think I’ve just gotta go with another technology based swap for this. A special pair of headsets perhaps. How I’d get Jake to put it on is the tough part. I’d need to find a way to get close to him first. Maybe I use this device to switch bodies with multiple other people who are close to Jake. Every switch getting me closer to him until finally I’m in the body of someone he trusts deeply. Enough that can convince him to put the device on for a laugh when the two of us are alone. Slipping one headset onto him before slipping the other onto myself and without a second thought, activating the device.
Both my face and Jake’s going slack as the swapping device does its thing. Transferring everything that made us who we were through the currents flowing between the two helmets. Slowly flooding my consciousness into Jake’s mind and vice versa. And of course both of us getting massive erections in the process which seemed to be a common side effect when switching bodies with men.
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It would’ve been a long and tiring process to finally get this far but it’d be well worth it once I finally had Jake’s body. Immediately throwing off the headset as soon as the swap was complete and standing up to get a good look at the body I’d been striving towards. Meanwhile the real Jake would be too confused and dazed by what had just happened to even make sense of the situation. Only looking up at me in horror as I tested out my new voice and felt up the new body I had hidden underneath the suit he’d been wearing. The newfound bulge in my pants threatening to break out at any second as I reach down and rub a hand across the outline of Jake’s thick cock.
Of course I need to take care of the original Jake somehow but I don’t think that’d be too hard. Once he finally processes what’s happened, he’ll probably start to panic at the sight of his imposter feeling himself up and slowly undressing. By this point I’ll have already stamped on the headset to ensure it can’t be used again before letting him know that the swap can’t be undone now. Giving him the choice to either keep quiet and I’ll make sure he has an easy life from now on or I’ll find some other way to keep him quiet. And since I’d just stolen his body, I don’t think he’d doubt my threats.
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Moving on however I then need to hypnotise someone. And I think you all know who I’m going for. Ryan Gosling of course. And now that I’m in Jake’s body it shouldn’t be hard for me to get close to these other high end celebs like myself. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, I’ll lace a drink of his with a hypnotic potion that’s got my new body’s cum mixed into it. And as soon as he drinks it, he’ll become a complete hypno slave to me.
Can you imagine? Ryan Gosling kneeling at the feet of Jake Gyllenhall. Willing to do anything he’s told. A former straight man being turned into a gay slut. Always eager to let me ruin his tight and once virgin hole at any chance we got. Practically begging me to cum inside him every time as each load I bred into him with Jake’s cock only drove him further under my control.
With Ryan being so attached to me I doubt he’d ever want to leave my side for long. Telling the world that the two of us have decided to become a couple would be inevitable in the long game I imagine but that wouldn’t be all bad. The publicity would probably do wonders. I’d have to make sure Ryan acts as normal as possible when we’re in public though… but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let a few of his new slutty elements shine through the cracks from time to time. Maybe with him telling a reporter that I really “opened him up” to a new world of possibilities with a quick wink.
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Lastly though a TF is in order and we still have Henry Cavill on our list. I’ll be honest I had no idea what to go for TF wise at first but I think I’ve finally figured it out.
Once again getting close to Henry at some point or another shouldn’t be too hard thanks to my new body. And as soon as no one is looking I’ll whip out an ancient spell. One that if performed correctly will immediately begin to transform Henry’s body. Or rather force it to shrink away into nothing. Or so you’d think at first glance.
As his body seems to vanish, his clothes would fall to the floor in a heap. But there would be something left underneath those clothes. I’d pull apart the heap and reach into Henry’s crumpled pants only to pull out Henry’s cock and balls!? It was the only thing left of his body though at first glance it would certainly be mistaken for a dildo. However upon closer inspection it looked and felt very real from the way the balls swayed to how the cock reacted to the slightest touch.
Now for the real test though.
Assuming I was alone where nobody could walk in on me, I’d slip the disembodied cock into my mouth and started sucking. Feeling as it swiftly began hardening in my mouth. Being sure to use every dick sucking trick in the book until Henry’s cock finally blew a load in my mouth. And as soon as it did, the suit I was wearing started to rip.
Henry’s body and soul essence had all been trapped inside this dlido-like form of his cock. However this meant that anyone who drank his cum would gain his strength and muscle mass albeit temporarily. Hence my suit tearing a fair bit after I swallowed thanks to my body bulking up quite a fair bit. And naturally I didn’t waste any time checking out the results. Loving the look of an even bigger and buffer Jake Gyllenhall staring back at me.
Needless to say I was gonna be using Henry’s cock a lot. Thankfully it replenishes itself endlessly as far as I know so there isn’t a real limit. I can drink from it as much as I want and bulk Jake’s body up whenever I please. Hell I might even let Ryan drink from it as well. Lord knows it’d be hot to see him hulk out with some extra muscle as well. Giving Ryan and even thicker muscle ass for me to dominate! But I think I can say for certain that I’ll be the one using it’s power most of the time. All the extra muscle is bound to feel addictive. And who know? Maybe my body will start to adapt and hold onto some of that extra size even after the effects wear off. Only one way to find out I guess.
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Now this one was fun to type up! Also wanted to give a quick shout out to an old story by @fantasyvessels called Trading Places With Gyllenhall which definitely inspired me a little here. Glad I was able to track down where they got those images from and make a hot gif outta it. Go check that story out as well if Jake is your thing!
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sweetcherryharry · 1 day
Text
Begin Again — 06
Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.
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Y/N swallowed hard, trying to get her voice to work.  "Harry," she managed to whisper, the word a mix of apprehension and a strange sense of relief.
Silence stretched across the line, broken only by the faint hum of his breathing. The tension that had simmered beneath the surface of their reunion was now a palpable force, thickening the air with unspoken words.
"Y/N," his voice finally came, hesitant yet laced with a surprising tenderness. "Are you alright?"
The question caught her off guard. Despite everything, his first concern was for her.  A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her – guilt, gratitude, and a lingering ache in her chest that spoke of the bond they'd once shared. "I… I will be," she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Have you…seen it?"  His question hung unfinished, the unspoken words echoing in her mind – Have you seen what's happening online?
A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips. "Just a little bit," she admitted, the understatement of the year. Natalie and Maia had given her the broad strokes. It was enough to know that her carefully crafted world was about to implode.
"I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with sincerity, laced with an unspoken understanding of the maelstrom she was about to face.
Y/N closed her eyes, briefly overwhelmed. His apology, while genuine, did little to change the situation. "Don't be," she said softly, pushing down a bitter laugh.  "It's ironic, isn't it? All those years of hiding, and now…"  Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the absurdity of it all.
"It's a mess," Harry finished for her, his voice heavy.  He seemed to understand the unspoken weight of her words, the sting of a love they'd protected so fiercely, now suddenly exposed in the harshest possible light.
A wave of memories washed over Y/N – the secrecy, the stolen moments, the fear of discovery that hung over them like a constant shadow. And then, the pain of their breakup still lingered, a dull ache that this unexpected reunion had reawakened.
"We were so careful," she whispered, the words filled with a mix of regret and resignation.
A flicker of something unreadable crossed his voice. "I know," he said gently. "Believe me, I know." There was a hint of self-recrimination in his tone, the weight of the past they shared settling between them.
The memory of his invitation to Harryween suddenly resurfaced, a flicker of warmth amidst the chaos.  He had invited her back into his world, a tempting glimpse of what could be. But now… she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Harry," her voice was hesitant, "I don't think I can go to Harryween." The words were like a heavy weight settling on her chest.
Last night, after their bittersweet moment in the backstage bathroom, they had went out to the Love Band’s living room and conversed there happily for a while —by themselves and with other people—, and during those moments, he had invited her and her friends to the next show, which was Harryween.
She had agreed. The invitation was friendly, and she knew how amazing Harryween was. Besides, she knew her friends would love to go (Y/N too, even though she would keep it a secret).
But now… with all of this going on, she wasn’t so sure it was the best idea to attend. All eyes would be looking for the mystery girl in the crowd.
"I figured you might say that," he replied, his tone surprisingly understanding.  "It's probably for the best."
Despite his words, a pang of disappointment shot through Y/N. Part of her had hoped… but reason won out. It was simply too risky.
"But Y/N," Harry continued, a hesitant note entering his voice, "What if... what if there was a way?"
She sat up straighter, a flicker of curiosity battling her apprehension. "A way? What do you mean?"
"Think about it…" he said, "it's Harryween! Everyone will be in costume. You could disguise yourself, Maia and Natalie too. It will be packed with people all dressed up." A pause hung in the air as tension and possibility crackled between them.
Y/N's mind raced. The idea was both absurd and strangely tempting. Could she pull it off? Could things get back to normal, even just a little bit, in the middle of all this crazy mess?
"I don't know, Harry," she said finally, her voice laced with apprehension and a touch of yearning. "It sounds crazy."
"Maybe," he shot back, a hint of playfulness returning. "But sometimes, crazy's just what we need."
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. There was a time when they'd thrived on a little bit of crazy, pushing boundaries and creating their own secret world. But this… this was on a whole different level. Public scrutiny, paparazzi, and the potential fallout felt like a hurricane waiting to erupt.
"Even with a disguise," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there's no guarantee they won't recognize me. The media… they're relentless."
"We can take precautions," Harry assured her, his voice firm yet laced with a newfound determination. He was determined, he wanted to see her again.
The memory of their shared past, the stolen moments before and after his shows and clandestine meetings, sent a shiver down her spine. A tiny part of her, a part she'd buried deep down, yearned for a taste of that carefree intimacy again.
"Just… think about it, Y/N," he continued, his voice softening. "No pressure. But if you do decide… I'll make sure everything is arranged. Secure seats, a top-notch disguise… the works."
The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the decision before her.  A part of her craved a sense of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with Harry outside the whirlwind of chaos. But the other part…the cautious, pragmatic part…knew the potential risks were immense.
"I… I'll let you know," she finally managed, her voice a mixture of apprehension and a strange sense of anticipation.
"Alright," Harry replied, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "And Y/N…"  he hesitated for a moment, "stay off your phone for now. Don't look at social media. Things are going to get…intense. My PR team will be in contact with me soon, and we'll figure out our next move together, okay?."
After she agreed, the call ended. 
Y/N sat with her friends, staring at the phone, her heart hammering in her chest. 
Harryween. Disguises. Stolen moments. It all felt like a dangerous, thrilling game. And deep down, a part of her was already considering the unimaginable– defying expectations and stepping back into Harry's world, if only for one last night.
Natalie and Maia exchanged worried glances, sensing the inner turmoil their friend was facing. The silence in the room hung heavy, broken only by the soft buzzing of Y/N's phone, each new notification a potential explosion of chaos.
"Well?" Maia finally broke the silence, her voice edged with concern. "What did Harry say?"
Natalie reached out, gently squeezing Y/N's hand. "We heard some of it, but… what's the plan?"
Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.  Should she tell them about Harry's crazy proposal? A part of her yearned to share the burden, while another feared their reaction.
"He…" she began hesitantly, then trailed off. How could she possibly explain the allure of stepping back into the madness, even for one night?
"He wants me to go to Harryween," she blurted out, unable to contain the secret any longer. “Want us to go to Harryween, tomorrow night.”
Natalie and Maia's eyes widened in surprise.
"Go? As in, be there?" Natalie asked, her voice incredulous. "Isn't that like…walking into the lion's den?"
Maia frowned. "But how? Won't everyone recognize you? It's the most exclusive concert of the whole tour!"
Y/N explained Harry's proposal in a hushed tone. "He says he can get us good seats… somewhere discreet. And disguises. He thinks with the right costume, no one would suspect a thing."
A flicker of excitement sparked in Natalie's eyes. "Honestly, that sounds kinda thrilling. Like a spy mission."
Maia, always the more practical one, shook her head. "It sounds like a recipe for disaster. Y/N, the press, Harry's fans… they'll be relentless. If they figure it out…"
Y/N knew her friend was right. It was a massive risk, a gamble with potentially devastating consequences.  But as she thought of Harry, and the possibility of a single night of stolen normalcy, her heart beat a little faster.
She took a deep breath, trying to process their reactions. Natalie's thrill-seeking nature mirrored a small part of her own, while Maia's caution resonated with her rational side.
"I know, I know," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.  "It sounds insane. But… there's this part of me," she paused, searching for the right words, "that yearns for it. Just one more night, one more concert. It also feels a bit bittersweet, since I attended the last Harryween…"  Her voice trailed off, a pang of nostalgia twisting  in her heart.
Natalie leaned in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Y/N, we get it. This whole situation is crazy. But you have to do what feels right for you."
Maia nodded in agreement. "We're here for you, no matter what.  But please, think about this carefully. There may be fallout you haven't even considered."
Y/N's gaze fell on her phone again, the thousands of silent notifications piling up like a countdown to chaos.  "I need to think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  "And… well, I'm waiting for Harry's team to propose some strategies. We'll have to see what they say."
The mention of last year's Harryween hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the life she'd left behind. It had been a magical night, filled with the thrill of Harry's performance and a shared secret only they knew. 
Could she recapture that magic, even in the midst of this storm?
Time seemed to both crawl and race by as Y/N sat alone in her apartment. The warmth of the recent shower did little to combat the chill that had settled in her bones. Strategies and concerns echoed in her head, endless 'what-ifs' twisting her stomach into knots.  
She'd ignored her social media all day, the constant stream of notifications a terrifying countdown she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she'd buried herself in meaningless tasks, tidying the apartment, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind from spiraling. Her phone buzzed incessantly, messages from worried acquaintances and distant friends piling up, demanding confirmation – was she the mystery girl? She couldn't even bring herself to read them. 
Eventually, the isolation was unbearable. Seeking any distraction, she messaged Natalie and Maia, assuring them she was okay, or as okay as someone could be in this situation.  The simple act of reaching out brought a sliver of normalcy back into her chaotic world. 
A flicker of her phone screen broke the renewed silence. A text from Harry.
She couldn’t help but feel her heart racing seeing the new notification on her phone.
Hi sunflower xx
Can we meet? I just had the PR meeting, and I’d like to talk about the options with you, in person.
A surge of adrenaline washed away the exhaustion. She didn't hesitate.
Yeah, sure, my place?
Not even a second after, there was a reply from him.
It’d be perfect :)
Can you send the address? xx
Since they had met and started dating while she was studying abroad in London, and then they moved together back then, she never had a place of her own in Los Angeles when they were dating. So, naturally, he didn’t know where she lived anymore.
She quickly shared her address, and decided to brew tea while she waited for him to arrive.
Within thirty minutes, there was a knock at her door. Y/N took a deep, steadying breath before opening it, revealing Harry on the other side. He looked slightly disheveled, the usual polish of his superstar persona replaced by a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heart.
"Hey," he said, his voice low, a soft smile playing on his lips that seemed imbued with genuine warmth and a touch of nervousness.  
“Hey,” she replied, stepping to the side of the open door, “Please, come in.”
As he walked into the open space of the shared living room and kitchen, his green eyes scanned the place. “It’s a lovely place,” he remarked, his compliment genuine.
A strange sense of displacement washed over her as she watched him cross the threshold. This apartment –this space she'd meticulously chosen and decorated– represented a chapter of her life he had never been a part of. Seeing him here felt disorienting, like a dream overlapping with reality.
“Thank you,” she smiled at him, closing the door behind them. An echo of shared domesticity hung in the air, a reminder of a past they couldn't speak of. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, more out of habit than genuine hospitality.
Harry shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I'm alright, thanks."
A tense silence stretched between them as they both took a seat on the couch. The apartment, once her sanctuary after their break up, now felt charged with emotion. Everything felt too much – the weight of the online storm brewing outside, the secrets they carried, and now the disorienting intimacy of being alone together for the first time in almost a year.
"So," Harry began, running a hand through his hair – a nervous gesture she remembered all too well.  "How are you?" His question was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine concern that cut through the awkwardness.
Y/N looked away, her gaze settling on a framed photo on the bookshelf – a memento from a solo trip, a testament to the life she'd built for herself after him.  "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.  "Overwhelmed, I guess. Confused. This whole thing… it's surreal."
"I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry. For all of this." His apology hung in the air, heavy and sincere.
"It's okay," she forced a smile. "Don't worry about it. We always knew… there was a chance this could happen." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken words lingering between them. Fame had always been a looming shadow in their relationship, a constant threat to the fragile normalcy they'd tried to build.
"So," Harry began again, a hint of resignation in his voice, "about the PR meeting…"
And just like that, the fragile bubble of intimacy burst, and the focus shifted back to the harsh realities of their situation.
"It's not pretty," he admitted, a sigh escaping his lips.  "They're suggesting… well, the classic options. Deny everything. Issue a statement about respecting privacy. Simply ignore everything and keep quiet. Or..." he hesitated, meeting her gaze, "they suggested we frame it as being long-term friends, and that we would hang out from time to time, explaining me being in your picture.”
The options swirled in Y/N's head. Complete denial felt false and cowardly. A generic statement about privacy reeked of celebrity evasion. Ignoring everything was simply not an option with the way social media was imploding. But the last suggestion, framing their history as a friendship… it wasn't a lie, not entirely. There were a few months when friendship was the cornerstone of their relationship, before love had blossomed.
"That's… not the worst idea," she admitted cautiously. It would mean bending the truth, selectively obscuring the past, but it felt less damaging than an outright denial.
Harry seemed to relax slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "It's the least harmful way forward, I think. Buys us some time while giving people a plausible explanation. And..." he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his voice, "I wouldn't hate having you back in my life, even as just a friend."
His words echoed in the silence. Y/N felt a pang of longing, a flicker of the old connection reigniting. Being his friend –a safe, public version of what they once had– was a tempting proposition. And yet…
"Yeah," she replied, the word barely a whisper. A wave of doubt washed over her. Could she do this? Could she see him, interact with him, knowing the depth of their shared history, and pretend it was only friendship?
A memory resurfaced: the stolen moments, the shared laughter, the way his touch had once felt like coming home. Could she truly bury all that and relegate him to the role of a casual acquaintance from her past?
Harry seemed to pick up on her inner turmoil. "I know this is a lot," he said softly. "And we don't have to decide anything right now. But…" a hint of hope crept into his voice, "would you be open to the idea?  Just… hanging out, as friends, and see how it feels?"
A sliver of guilt pricked her conscience. Saying 'friend' felt like a betrayal of their past, but it was also a lifeline in this storm. "Okay," she said, her voice stronger this time. "We could…try."
Unbeknownst to her, Harry felt a bittersweet relief wash over him. "Friends" – the word sliced through him, a constant reminder of the love he still harbored immensely for her. But he could see the hesitation in her eyes, the internal struggle. It was for the best –her best– he told himself firmly. 
For her safety, for his career, this was the path they had to tread, even if it meant walking over shards of his own broken heart.
The memory of their breakup played on a loop in his mind. The ache hadn't dulled over time; it had merely transformed. It was the price of his ambition, his relentless climb to stardom, and the cruel reality that success had made their love impossible to sustain. 
And yet, watching her swept into the spotlight, her name and face twisted in the cruel narratives of the online mob, ignited a fierce protectiveness within him.
He couldn't change the past, even if he wanted to with his whole being. She was his home, his whole life. She was the love of his life, and he had lost her almost a year ago.
If pretending friendship was the shield to protect her, he would wear the mask with unwavering conviction. It would hurt, every smile, every innocent touch, every conversation constrained by the invisible boundary they now had to uphold. 
But it was a pain he could endure, a pain he would gladly choose if it meant offering her a semblance of safety in the eye of this relentless storm.
"Look," Harry interrupted her internal struggle, determination in his voice, "I have to make a quick call. My team... they need to get the word out. An exclusive, a carefully worded leak… something to back our ‘long-time friends’ story."
A touch of bitterness edged his voice, but Y/N understood. It was the game they had to play, the reality of his world she could never truly escape.
Harry retreated to the kitchen of her apartment, his voice a low murmur as he spoke to his team.  Y/N sat alone in the living room, the weight of their decision pressing down on her. When he returned, his expression was unreadable, a mix of resignation and a strange hint of hope.
"All set," he said, a forced lightness in his voice. "The wheels are in motion. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow things will be different. Hopefully."
A quiet "thank you" slipped from Y/N's lips, laced with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The weight of their decision settled on her like a heavy cloak.
Harry's gaze landed on the coffee table, where a beautiful, carefully crocheted bouquet of pink, white, and yellow flowers sat nestled atop fashion magazines. A flicker of recognition softened his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice husky, "isn't that…"
Y/N's head snapped up, a wave of warmth and nostalgia washing over her.  "The flowers? Yeah," she admitted, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips.
"From that little market in London?" A smile bloomed on Harry's face as the memory came rushing back. "We spent ages arguing about which colors you should get."
Y/N's smile widened. "I can't believe you remember! I thought for sure you'd force me to choose the blue and purple ones."
"I almost did," Harry chuckled, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to contradict the carefully constructed distance between them. "But pink and yellow were always your colors."
Laughter bubbled up from Y/N, genuine and unexpected. 
The dam holding back memories seemed to crack, and a torrent of shared experiences flooded their minds. They reminisced about their adventures, a clumsy encounter at a local bookstore. They recounted the time they got lost on a hike in the south of France, ending up stranded with nothing but a granola bar, two green juices, and a breathtaking view.
Each shared story was a brushstroke, painting a vibrant picture of their past love. With every laugh, every playful jab, the line between friends and lovers felt increasingly blurred. The comfortable silence they'd strived for earlier seemed a distant memory, replaced by an easy flow of conversation that only years of shared history could create.
The familiarity of their interaction was both a balm and a poison. They'd fallen into an old comfortableness, one that both recognized, deep down, as a home they could no longer share.
The night went on, and the arrival of take-out momentarily broke the tension. The act of setting out plates and choosing something mindless to watch felt like a step back towards their agreed-upon boundaries.  
Neither spoke of it, the desire to cling to this stolen moment of normalcy outweighing the need to address the elephant in the room. The movie became a background hum, the plotline irrelevant compared to the unspoken narrative playing out between them.
A comfortable silence settled over them as the movie progressed. Exhaustion from the relentless stress of the past day crept in, their eyelids growing heavy.  Before they fully realized it, Harry's head dipped forward, finding a natural resting place on Y/N's shoulder. She stiffened for a fleeting moment before relaxing, a sigh escaping her lips.
Subconsciously, they shifted closer, years of shared habits overriding any pretense of detachment. As sleep stole over them, nestled together on the couch, it felt achingly, heartbreakingly like home. 
The outside world, with its prying eyes and manufactured narratives, ceased to exist. For a few fleeting hours, they were just them, finding solace in a love they couldn't bear to name.
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earthtoharlow · 2 days
Text
Don’t Like The Lights
Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand
Series Masterlist
2. Pulling Me Back
Every time I try to leave something keeps pulling me back, telling me I need you in my life.
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Maryse sat in her car parked outside Jack’s house, her fingers nervously tapping against the steering wheel. She glanced up at the front door, her heart pounding. It had been days since they ran into each other at the studio, and now she was finally mustering up the courage to ring the doorbell.
Taking a deep breath, Maryse got out of her car and walked to the front door. She reached out and pressed the button, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. As she waited, her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her on the other side of the door. Would they be able to pick up where they left off? Or had too much time passed for them to salvage what they once had?
Before she could dwell on it further, the door swung open, and there Jack stood, a mixture of surprise and joy flickering across his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early.”
Maryse smiled nervously as her cheeks warmed. “Hey,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, uh…I couldn’t wait,” she admitted, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about us, about everything.”
Jack’s expression softened as he nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Me too.” He admitted, stepping aside to let her in. As she crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind her.
As she followed behind Jack she couldn’t help but look around his new place. She also couldn’t help but notice the minimal decor adorning the walls. It struck her that there were no personal touches, no signs of another person. She wondered if it meant he was still single.
They both sat on the couch, Maryse shifted uncomfortably, stealing glances at Jack, who seemed equally uneasy.
“Look I’m…
“Jack…”
They couldn’t help but both laugh at the silliness of speaking at the same time, the moment breaking the tension that filled the room.
“Sorry, you go first,” Jack said, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“No, you,” Maryse insisted, her eyes searching for a sign of what he was thinking.
Jack takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on Maryse as he begins “I need you to know that I didn’t cheat on you. My ex… she kissed me. I swear, I was pushing her away when you walked in. I know it probably looked bad, but I would never do that to you.” He pauses, his expression pleading for her to believe him.
Maryse listened to Jack ramble about that night. She knew the whole story, Urban had called her the following morning after the night out at the club explaining everything to her. Deep down she knew that Jack would never do that to her and even though she missed him dearly during those lonely nights, she knew that the time apart had been necessary for her growth and self-discovery.
“I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since. I know I should have handled it better, but I froze. I froze because all I could think about was you, and how much I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Maryse reaches out and places a hand on his arm, a gentle gesture to comfort him. “I know, it’s okay. I believe you.” She says softly, her eyes meeting his. “I know you would never intentionally hurt me.”
“A little birdy actually filled me in on what happened months ago,” she begins, her voice steady but filled with vulnerability. “I guess I was just too scared to reach out again because everything seemed so broken, beyond repair.”
“Urban?” Jack asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Maryse nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, Urban,” she confirms, her gaze meeting his. “He told me what happened that night, and I realized that I didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself…”
She pauses before taking a deep breath, her heart pounding nervously. “Now it’s my turn to apologize,” she says softly, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry for making it seem like I didn’t see a future with you, because the truth is, I do. I think I always did. And I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out. I needed time to process everything and figure out what I really wanted.” Maryse watched as Jack’s eyes softened, a flicker of emotion passing across his face.
“I know I messed up.” continues, her voice trembling slightly. “But I love you and I know, for the rest of my life, I won’t stop loving you, ever, because you were meant to be with me. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”
A wide grin spreads across Jack’s face when he heard Maryse say she loved him, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. Without hesitation, he pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. With a gentle yet urgent tone, he whispers, “What did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“Tell me you love me.”
Maryse’s heart swells with love as she looks into his eyes, seeing the depth of emotion reflected back at her. “I love you,” she says softly, her voice filled with tenderness.
Jack smile widens at her words, and he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Say it again,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.
“I love you,” Maryse tells him with even more conviction than before.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Jack closes the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss. They poured all of their love and affection into the embrace.
As they finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with an expression of pure adoration. “I love you more.” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.
Tears of happiness prick at her eyes as she gazes back at him, overwhelmed by the depth of their connection. “Not possible.” Maryse replies, her voice trembling with emotion.
They sat in silence tangled in each other's arms and for the first time in months, they felt relaxed and happy. Maryse felt a sense of gratitude for the journey that had brought her to this moment. She was ready to embrace the future and spend the rest of her life with Jack.
“I have something else to tell you,” Maryse begins, her voice filled with nervousness.
Jack looks at her, curiosity evident in his eyes. “What is it?” he asks, leaning in closer to her.
“I broke my lease,” she confesses, her words hanging in the air between them.
Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he leans back slightly, processing her revelation. “You broke your lease?” he repeats, in disbelief.
Maryse takes a deep breath, gathering her courage as she continues. “I was wondering… if the offer to move in with you is still available?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, there’s silence between them as they both process her question. Then, Jack's face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with joy.
“Of course it’s still available,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.
With a mischievous grin, Jack scoops Maryse up effortlessly, lifting her over his shoulder as she squeals with laughter. “Hey, what are you doing?” she protests playfully, her laughter bubbling over.
“We have a lot of making up to do, and we need to celebrate!” he replies with a wink, his tone playful.
Maryse giggles, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. “And where exactly are you taking me?” she teases, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“To our soon-to-be shared bedroom,” he declares with a grin, his steps purposeful as he carries her through the house
She laughs, the sound echoing through the air as they make their way down the hallway.
***
AN: PARADE INSIDE MY CITY YEAAAAH shorter chapter but our bbs are happy and back together 🙂‍↕️ thank you for all the love on the last chapter and this series as a whole I appreciate it so much 🫶
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television-overload · 11 hours
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 4/34 - phone battery
[Read on AO3]
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After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.
“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.
“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”
“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”
Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.
“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.
“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”
“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”
“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.
He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery. 
He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.
He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. 
“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.
“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”
Ah.
He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.
“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.
“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.
He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”
That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing. 
“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”
“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.
She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.
“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips. 
He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.
-.-.-
Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.
“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.
He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.
“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”
“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”
He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.
“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.
She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”
He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.
“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”
She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.
Success.
Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—
“What about Skinner?”
She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”
“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”
Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.
“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”
He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”
His focused gaze implores her to consider it. 
“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”
He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?
“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”
His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.
“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”
~~~
SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it
Chapter 5/34 - rulebook
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“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”
“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”
Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.
His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”
“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”
“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.
“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.
Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 
“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”
Emily. A story he never had fully explained.
“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”
Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”
“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”
That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been. 
“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”
The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.
Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.
“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”
Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.
“Married.”
Mulder nods. “That’s right.”
Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.
“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”
Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again. 
“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”
“Sir—”
“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs…”
“Sir, I—”
Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed. 
“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”
“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.
Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”
A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”
“A formality,” Skinner repeats.
“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”
One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.
“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”
Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”
“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.
“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.
The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”
“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.
“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”
He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…
“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.
He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”
Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.
Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.
As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable. 
“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”
Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”
He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”
“We’d really appreciate that.”
They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight. 
Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.
They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.
-.-.-
"I want to get married Christmas Eve."
The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.
"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.
She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."
"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.
"Mulder..."
"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.
She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."
He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."
"I know, it's just... hard."
He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.
"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought. 
"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest. 
"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.
This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”
He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."
"Stop it, that didn't really happen."
"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."
"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."
They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.
"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"
She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."
Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—
"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"
Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."
"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."
She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."
"You're ridiculous."
-.-.-
The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.
"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.
"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.
"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."
"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."
He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."
"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.
"Not all of them, but, you know—"
"Bill."
"Yeah."
He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"
She waits a moment more before responding. 
"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”
Oh boy.
"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.
"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."
"Scully—"
"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."
"All excellent points, except for one thing..."
"Skinner can call us in."
Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.
"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.
"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses. 
"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."
The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.
"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."
"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."
He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.
"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."
She protests, "That's not why I—"
"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."
After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.
‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.
It's a Christmas miracle.
~~~
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royaltozaki · 11 hours
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what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u
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failing maths, but getting the girl
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synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.
warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex
w/c: 4.0k
a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n!"
you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.
you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.
you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"
"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."
you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.
"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."
"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."
"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.
"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"
"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."
momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.
the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
“you failed.”
“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”
“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”
you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.
“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”
the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"
you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."
you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."
"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."
she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."
you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.
"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"
"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."
you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."
"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."
"oh... i guess that's better?"
"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"
"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"
"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."
you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.
your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."
"what?! you can't leave me here!"
your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"
you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.
two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.
you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.
definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.
your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.
"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.
"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.
"i-i'm sorry i-"
she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."
you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.
you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.
you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.
when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"
you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'
she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."
you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."
she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."
you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."
she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.
you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.
she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.
it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.
"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.
"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."
momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.
"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."
"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."
you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.
you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"
she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."
"wanna talk about it?"
she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."
it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."
"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"
she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."
"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"
she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."
you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"
she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."
you frown, sitting back on your heels.
"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"
"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.
you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.
you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.
you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."
you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."
momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."
you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.
"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"
she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.
"you don't need any of those things anyway."
you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.
she clears her throat, "all done."
you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.
you beam up at her, "thanks!"
she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."
you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"
she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"
you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"
she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.
once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..
"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."
"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"
momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"
"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.
"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.
"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."
you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"
"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"
"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"
"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."
you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"
she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."
you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"
momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.
"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."
"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."
you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.
momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.
"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"
"y/n..."
"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."
"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.
you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.
"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.
"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."
you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.
"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.
"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"
she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"
you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."
"y/n!"
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.
you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.
you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.
you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?
you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.
you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"
momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.
that was hot.
"rohypnol."
"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?
you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.
"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."
the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"
"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"
"what!? the fuck?!"
momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."
he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.
she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."
you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.
she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.
you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.
"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.
she hums lightly against you, "which part?"
"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"
she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"
you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."
her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.
you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.
you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.
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