#That got ignored for the past eighteen years

[01zfan]

your birthday | s. es

boyfriend!eunseok x reader | 6.0k words

two posts in two days but this is a little treat for eunseok’s birthday and an instalment of the next series i have in mind! kinda based off a request i received about eunseok and the reader in an igaf war (LMFAO)…inspired by the feeling i get when i listen to in a week by hozier.

contains: having cake (and eating it too if you catch my drift)

when eunseok first became a teen, nothing changed. 

he spent his prepubescent life yearning to become one of the big kids that seemed to have so much fun. he would kick rocks past the park when leaving school, stealing glances at the teenagers that passed around a brown paper bag by the skating ramps. eunseok would look at them through through the chainlink fence when they decided to hang out on eunseok’s path home from school. when he was feeling extra bold, eunseok let his body lean against the fence, fingers in the gaps of wire while he observed them. 

eunseok memorized how they moved their bodies carelessly and walked with a relaxed nature, how they were oblivious to the world around them. eunseok didn’t know if their benevolence was by design, he was so acutely aware of everything he thought it was an innate part of being human. but here he stood, less than a yell away and they didn’t acknowledge his presence. but eunseok was still meek at that age, a small boy who had barely graduated from his velcro sneakers to laced shoes. the teenagers wore clothes that hung loosely on their bodies, dressed in fashion that would make anyone think they were delinquents. they may have been that very thing, what else do you call teenagers that skipped school to spend time at the park day drinking?

no matter what they were, it didn’t matter to eunseok. he thought they were cool and he was determined to become just like them. so when he stood underneath the sun on his sixteenth birthday instead of only staring at them through the fence he called out to them. eunseok was a different person now, he skipped class and retired the circle frame glasses he got called a nerd for wearing. the best part was that the group of kids drinking in the park changed each year and they had finally become his age. eunseok called out the name of a kid that shared class with him waving a pack of stolen cigarettes in the air like an offering. eunseok had stolen the pack from his parents a long time ago in preparation. he hated the smell and the way it made his throat burn, but he didn’t judge. he knew the delinquents loved to smoke, and they easily accepted eunseok into their group after he took a swig of hard liquor without grimacing. 

when he turned eighteen, the first thing he did was buy a lottery ticket. he didn’t know how to decipher the icons on the scratch off, he had to ask a very uninterested worker to tell him if he won or not. he left the gas station with a pack of cigarettes, poorer than when he walked in. eighteen wasn’t too different for eunseok. he didn’t have to worry about skipping school anymore, he had graduated and could fully dedicate his time to hanging out all day doing nothing with his friends. his group had moved on from the adolescence of a kids playground to an abandoned pool. they would spend all day there and be the first ones when the rest of the towns delinquents arrived at night. 

the night of his eighteenth birthday was when eunseok first saw you. eunseok was embarrassed to admit to his friends that knew you were not new to the scene. your older brother was one of the teenagers eunseok looked at when he was younger. your brother came and went, his mind was focused on things outside of drinking and breaking minor laws. he was one of the only ones that left the city quickly after graduation. he was shrouded in mystery and you were no different. when eunseok saw you walking towards the side of the pool his feet dangled off of he didn’t know what to do. eunseok had become so used to ignoring the world around him that when you came into it he was sheepish. he forgot how to form a bond with anyone outside of shared love for misbehaving and making bad decisions. 

you were already so mature for your age, and you knew who you were. you spoke to eunseok about having a job and how excited you were for college to broaden your horizons. eunseok felt like he was that nerdy meek boy again standing on the other side of a chainlink fence—this time he was admiring you through the wired frame. eunseok wanted to be like you, he wanted to go after what he wanted in life like you did.

eunseok didn’t have to spend three years changing himself to be let inside. you welcomed him into your arms without stolen cigarettes and alcohol hidden in paper bags. he felt like he had found a new side of himself, and eunseok couldn’t stop telling people about it. no one could blame eunseok for his discovery; he didn’t know that life could be so sweet, or that love was something greater than partying all night. 

eunseok took responsibility for not telling you early on that you had changed his life. talking about you to anyone that would listen wasn’t enough. the summer came to a close quicker than he expected. the season usually droned on when he spent his time hanging around abandoned places and playing video games in his friend’s basement. but it flew by, and spending every waking moment with you didn’t help the feeling of an impeding end subside. the final grains of sand went through the hourglass while there was a party at the abandoned pool house. it was one of the few nights of the summer where everyone was able to beat the sticky heat, and for the first time in eunseok’s teenage life, he wasn’t there. 

he chose to get drunk off you instead, and inhale your perfume while you whispered in his ear. the two of you decided to make heat of your own, the type that had your bodies drenched in sweat underneath thin covers. your bodies molded together and glistened, reflecting the light of the illegal fireworks that exploded outside. eunseok gave you what little he had left to give you that night. he made a silent vow that he would be a better person when you held him tight and let out cries of euphoria into his neck.

eunseok turned twenty-one while you were still away. he went back to the same gas station that gave him the worthless scratch off lottery ticket to buy his first legal alcoholic beverage. eunseok waited until he settled into his apartment, leaning deep into his couch before reading the label and taking a quick sip. it tasted no different, maybe even worse than the drinks he had snuck and illegally tasted all these years. eunseok didn’t have too much of a taste for alcohol now, even less of a taste for the sickly sweet drinks you preferred. but he drank every drop for some reason, acting like you were the one that brought it for him. 

eunseok was twenty-one when he rented his first car to come and see you. he took off work responsibly and drove through the night until he made it to your campus. he caught you just as you were leaving, planning a secret roadtrip back home to surprise her boyfriend who had just turned twenty-one. eunseok saw you nearly drop the bottle of the shitty vodka wrapped in a bow when you opened the door to him. he spent the night with you in your dorm and you two split the potable hand sanitizer with no chaser like you guys were teenagers again. 

you two barely made it through half the bottle when eunseok felt you lean over and whisper into the rosy shell of his ear that your roommate very obviously wasn’t coming back. she had gone home for spring break, just like everyone else on your floor. eunseok still pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans, and stuck fingers in your mouth to stop you from crying out. he let out grunts into the crook of your neck, and both of you muttered strings of incoherent words while you kissed. eunseok spent the rest of the night making up for lost time through rushed touches fueled by alcohol and desperation.

the next morning eunseok was hungover for the first time in so long he forgot how to operate. he had to wear your cat-eye sunglasses while you walked around the area surrounding your campus. again, eunseok fell victim to terrible timing. but he couldn’t stop himself from saying he wants to move to the city, and he would get the two of you an apartment off campus with the money he had saved up. he quickly talked about a future on the sidewalk, not noticing that he was next to a park. he was only focused on you, the way you were still glowing even through the tint of his shades. eunseok was afraid that the ridiculous sunglasses on his face made his words seem unserious, but the way you leaped into his arms and screamed with joy told eunseok you were taking him serious.

eunseok was twenty-three now, and he was nothing like the person he was in his hometown. after leaving, eunseok realized the world was alot bigger and there were more places to be than playgrounds and underneath bridges. he also realized that proximity was the only thing that made his friends stick around. he missed all of his friends from back home, and he wished distance didn’t keep them apart. eunseok came home to the small apartment he shared with you to see a single trail of confetti lead him to the kitchen. eunseok set his things down, and hung up his coat on the rack next to the door. he blew warm air into his hands, he didn’t know why it was still so cold in the middle of march. eunseok looked for you on the couch, where you normally sat relaxed after your shift until eunseok got home. 

when he didn’t see you, he tried holding back a smile as he slowly followed the trail. he turned three large steps to get to the kitchen into fifteen tiny ones.

“i thought we weren’t celebrating birthdays.” eunseok said loudly into the empty space of your apartment.

the walls were thin, and eunseok barely had to raise his voice for it to echo in every room of the tiny layout. but eunseok imagined the yelling and the tiny steps increased the anticipation and excitement for your big reveal. he would talk to you about the finances later, and how important it was to not waste money on meaningless celebrations.

when he finally rounds the corner eunseok is surprised to see seven familiar faces looking back at him. his jaw drops open when everyone immediately launches into singing him happy birthday. it still hangs when it’s time to blow out his candles. after it’s all said and done, everyone in his kitchen looks back at him waiting for eunseok to say something back. he is still shocked, and he sounds confused when he asks how did everyone fit in the tiny space of his kitchen laughter. booms in his apartment, but eunseok is still confused.

while eunseok caught up with his friends, he can’t help but be confused why they are all here. birthdays were never significant in his friend group, the closest thing they got to a celebration was first pick on what to buy with the pocket change everyone was able to scrounge up. but eunseok’s friends talked about how you got them together, how you planned everything while you stood in the kitchen shaking your head bashfully. eunseok made his friends thank you repeatedly, until you had to sneak into your shared bedroom to get away from the endless praise. eunseok didn’t let it end when you were out of the room. he spoke of you highly in between topics of his friends and how good his life was. his friends were congratulating him, and they spoke of their own lives. everyone from his friend group were going on to do things of their own, outside the limits they were almost fenced into. 

eunseok could talk to his friends for hours and he was grateful that you let him have alone time with the people he hadn’t seen in so long. but he couldn’t stop himself from occasionally peaking towards the closed door of the bedroom. eunseok wanted nothing more than to thank you for the planning and the effort that went into celebrating his birthday. twenty-three such an insignificant age to turn, but you put in effort like it wasn’t just a normal day. 

by the time he was done catching up and promising to visit soon, it was dark outside. he took the time to sincerely thank all of his friends, and to tell them how grateful he was to have them in his life. expressing gratitude came easily to eunseok now, and he knew it caught all of his friends off guard. they jokes about how sweet eunseok was now during the final hug. eunseok only shrugged his shoulders before telling them to get home safe.

no matter how soft he closed the door, the tired hinges still creaked. eunseok joked about all the flaws in your apartment, and you two both made it a game to find the positive in the defects. the squeaky hinges were your first line of security, letting you know that someone was walking into your home. the creaky floorboards made a precious melody, the loud cast iron radiator was white noise. eunseok realized the leak in your ceiling by the couch that counted time was gone. the metal bucket that sat directly underneath the leak was gone too. 

eunseok goes underneath it, smiling at the slightly discolored blotch that covers the hole.

“crafty.” eunseok says underneath his breath.

“is everyone gone?” you say. 

your voice is gentler than eunseok’s. he can make his boom throuhg your apartment, but yours almost gets lost behind walls and closed doors. eunseok hears you regardless, letting you know it’s just you and him in the sanctuary you two built together. 

eunseok clears the space between the living room and the door quickly, turning the knob to see you.

“can you bring me a piece of cake?” you quickly ask, much quieter than your previous sentence.

“sure baby.” eunseok says into the open crack of the door.

eunseok immediately turns towards the kitchen, walking to the counter where his half eaten cake sits. eunseok cuts you a piece of the cake using the butter knife that’s caked in frosting. he watches as it slices through each meticulous layer, acknowledging the fact it probably took you forever to make it. eunseok imagines about you in your cheesy apron, rereading the instructions on your phone a million times while he puts the slice on a tiny paper plate. the blue frosting matches the trim on the edges of the paper dish, and eunseok smiles again.

he heads for his bedroom door again, sucking the frosting off of his thumb before opening the door gently. he has to keep an eye on the plate, careful to not let the slice tip over the edge

“you patched the leak in the kitchen?” eunseok asks.

when eunseok looks up from the slice, he sees lit candles on the bedside table. eunseok sees you read your book in the center of the bed, trying so hard to be nonchalant about the cami top lingerie set you wear. you made sure to wear his favorite color, but whatever you decided to wear would’ve been his favorite. he nearly drops the piece as you set your book down and sit up against the headboard of the bed. you two look at eachother through the candlelit dimness and the the quickly building tension. 

eunseok walks to the side of the bed closest to him. he’s so fast that the slice of cake falls on it’s side. eunseok is only paying attention to it enough to catch a chunk that detaches from it before it hits the floor. 

eunseok wonders what’s going on inside of your mind as your eyes float between the piece of cake and his eyes. he watches you get on your knees, and bend over as your slow hand brushes past his leg to grab the handle of the bedside table. both your chests rise in anticipation as you open the drawer. you let eunseok see the assortment of toys he’s never seen before and a pair of cuffs that reflect light before you grab a lone candle.

eunseok comes closer when you beckon to him after lighting the candle on the small burning fire. he holds the leaning piece of cake between your two bodies and you use your other hand to manipulate the piece to sit upright. you’re messy on purpose, getting the blue and gray frosting on your fingers. he watches you clean the mess you made, sucking the frosting off of your index and middle finger after getting some on your lips. you hold his eye contact while you do this, and eunseok can see your cheeks hollow before you pull your fingers from your mouth.

“make a wish.” you say.

your words confuse him, and eunseok has to be reminded by your pointed eyes. his mind is still blank when he closes his eyes and blows out the candle quickly. you only laugh as you crawl to the edge of the bed on your knees. he comes closer to you, so close that you have to tilt your head to see his face.

“what’d you wish for?” you ask innocently.

eunseok looks past the specks and smudges of blue frosting on your face, and how it matching your cami top. the silk cami is smooth on your body, absent of ruffles or wrinkles except where your erect nipples protrude outwards. its so subtle eunseok think he would miss it if the candlelight didn’t bounce off the shiny fabric.

“i forgot.” eunseok says absentmindedly.

“already?” you ask playfully.

eunseok nods his head obediently. something comes over him looking at you like this. the candlelight ignites your dewy skin, and catches on your glossy puckered lips. eunseok bends down to get closer to you mindlessly, like a moth to a flame.

eunseok lets you pull him in by the hands you have on his face. he feels your thumb that still had frosting paint his cheekbones. you bring him so close that he cant stop the edges of the cake from pressing to the bare skin of your chest. eunseok knows you can feel the cold frosting on your hot skin, but you pull away from him slowly before looking down. the perfect amount is smudged on your chest, directly above the valley of your breasts. 

the view brings eunseok to his knees, and he carelessly puts the cake on the floor to free his hands. now it’s his turn to tilt his head up to look at you. you rest on your haunches and let your arms rest on eunseok’s shoulders. both of you stare at the smudge on your skin. when eunseok blows on the chilling frosting it causes goosebumps to erupt on your chest. you tilt your head to the side, and a hand reaches up to gently grab a handful of his hair.

“can you clean it up for me?” you ask. 

your voice already sounds hoarse and eunseok is no better. he can only nod, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence. without wasting another second, eunseok brings his lips to your chest. his tongue comes out first, pressing it flat to your skin before licking up a majority of it. when you sigh and lean your head back it drives eunseok further. he turns his head to get a better angle and attaches his lips to your chest. he sucks harshly, even after the he no longer tastes the sweet frosting. his hands also creeped up your chest and kneads your breasts over the thin silk material of your camisole. 

even when eunseok’s lips detach front your chest, his hands stay on your chest. he managed to move your top down just enough that the pigmented skin of your areola peaks out. eunseok looks up to you for permission, and when you nod your head, he attaches his lips to your exposed skin. he’s careful to not get spit or to stain your power blue camisole. your sighs are broken, and end with high-pitched whines. your grip on his hair tightens before you slightly tug. eunseok reluctantly lets go of your nipple, letting his tongue graze the skin before he’s out of reach.

eunseok is brought back to make eye contact with you. your eyes flicker quickly to his shirt, and eunseok sees that the slice of cake had smudged against his shirt. you pull your arms from his shoulder and walk backwards on the bed by your knees.

“take your shirt off.” you say once you make it to the center of the bed. 

eunseok stands to take off his shirt, not caring if frosting gets in his hair from his haste. his shirt is followed by his pants and socks after your instructions. he’s left in his boxers while you stay in your lingerie. eunseok watches your hands rest on your thighs, how you rub your skin the same way he always does. 

eunseok crawls on the bed until his nose touches yours. he doesn’t know why he’s waiting for you first, but he ignores it when your lips move forward. 

he takes his time kissing you, situating himself on the bed while a hand on the small of your back brings you closer. you give in and eunseok smiles against your lips before slipping his tongue past your lips. he keeps leaning you forward and tilts his head while he guides your movements. when you moan into his moan eunseok’s dick jumps in his boxers. he can feel his tip press against the cotton fabric and how the fabric becomes cold when the air chills his precum. 

before eunseok can lead you to lay your back on the bed, you exert physical and mental strength to break apart from him.

“lay down.” you say.

eunseok can’t stop his eyebrows from raising. the authority in your voice causes his dick to twitch in his pants. he’s hesitant at first, but lays back on the bed in the position he usually puts you in. you stay in your spot, letting your eyes rake down eunseok’s body. his muscles move underneath his skin, and his abs twitch each time the tent in his boxers move. 

you quickly suck the remaining frosting off your thumb and eunseok has to manually blink. before he opens his eyes, he can feel three of your fingers trail down his body. it started on eunseok’s chest, the same spot where he left a forming bruise and ends at his waistline. he thinks for a moment you’ll pull down the waistband, but before he can lift his hips to help your eager hand reaches for him through his fly.

eunseok can’t stop himself from groaning and letting his jaw drop. he sees you looking down at him, and your hair frames your face perfectly as you smile smugly. eunseok has half the urge to play with the strands of your hair, but when you start slowly stroking him all thoughts leave his mind. he only knows your name and the short answers to your teasing questions.

“does it feel good?”

“want me to keep going?”

“want me to go faster?”

“can i take your boxers off?”

each answer to your question is a breathy yes with a head nod. eunseok looks down at the tent you two form together in his boxers. he pushes his waistband down, desperate to see the uncovered view.

when eunseok can see your fisted hand around his base, he lets expletives fall from his lips. he wasn’t usually this reckless. he prided himself in keeping his composure until the very end. but the view of you pleasing him always made him lose self-control a little faster. that compounded with how bossy you were being made eunseok already feel like he was close to cumming all over your hand and his abdomen. 

eunseok is so desperate to feel you wrapped around him that he clutches at the thin strap of your top. but you are out of his reach as you trail down his body and slot yourself between his legs. eunseok props himself up on his elbows and runs his hand through his bangs to push it out of the way. he can feel the clumps of dried frosting comb through his fingers before he brings his hand back down.

“what are you doing?” he asks breathlessly.

he knows what you’re doing, or what you plan to do when he sees the determined glint in your eyes. you pull down his boxers without answering. neither of your say anything, only letting the sound of your heavy breaths and movement on the sheets fill the room. only a second passes between you throwing his boxers past the edge of the bed and you taking eunseok’s dick into his mouth. the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue causes eunseok to lift his hips off the bed and thrust into your mouth.

eunseok takes control when you gag on his length. he pulls himself out of your mouth by the base of his dick while you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“you surprised me baby,” eunseok wipes the spit from the corner of your lips “i’m sorry.” he apologizes.

you don’t listen to his apology, only placing your hand over his before guiding his dick back to your lips. you trace your bottom lip with the. eunseok shakes when he sees precum glisten on your lips, and how large his dick is in comparison to your face. he has to sigh and lean his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“you can be rough with me.” you say matter-of-factly. 

eunseok looks away from the ceiling down to your eyes between his legs. he feels your hand hold the base of his dick, and when you have his attention eunseok feels you run your tongue along a vein. it takes you all the way up, where you place a sweet kiss on his tip. eunseok twitches in your hold and gasps quietly.

“you can fuck my face,” eunseok feels your warm lips kiss his tip again. “or pull my hair.” you say.

eunseok has to dig his nails in his hand to stop himself from thrusting up into your hand. it’s all so vulgar, the way you give him permission to wreck you so casually. 

“don’t wanna.” eunseok says.

he did have nights where he fucked you into the mattress, not relenting until you were jelly in his hands and his thighs were shaking. sometimes something came over eunseok where he was admittedly mean to you in bed, spanking you until you were in tears and denying you orgasm after orgasm. but right now, he wanted nothing more than to lay you down and gently show you how grateful he was to have someone like you in his life. 

eunseok wished you weren’t so giving, or so hard to look at in the eyes during times like this. when you audibly pout and drag a wet hand up his shaft eunseok lifts his back off the bed slightly.

“i can feel you getting harder the longer you think about it.” you deadpan.

eunseok has to shake his head to try and deny the facts

“‘cause i want to have sex with you,” eunseok hisses when you drag your hand back down to the base. “really nice and slow.” he sighs.

eunseok can feel your lips curl against the shaft of his dick to smile, and he can see your legs playfully kick in the air. eunseok wants to cover his eyes with his arm, maybe the pitch black would stop him from twitching in your hand so much and his face from getting so hot. but your other hand has a steady hold on his, and his other hand is too busy clenching a fist repeatedly. 

“we have all night for that.” you blow cold air on his tip and eunseok hisses again. “we have all day tomorrow too, actually.” you say casually.

eunseok doesn’t know where this side of you came from. your sex life was very carefree. both of you agreed that assigning roles in bed was restrictive, and you were both so young that experimenting was a big part of intimacy. neither of you fell into roles, but more often than not eunseok ended up in charge, changing the positions to what he thought was most beneficial unless you requested something. but here you were slotted between his legs, calling all the shots and teasing him. 

he let out another sigh, hoping you didn’t hear the shaking in his voice.

“can you put it back in your mouth?” eunseok asks pathetically.

you smile even bigger before kissing the tip again. you start slowly, beginning with his tip. you look up, seeing eunseok’s adam’s apple bob while his hands grip the sheets. eunseok has to look at you take him deeper and deeper in your mouth. his elbow slide from underneath him and his groans when he can feel your nose touch his stomach.

“you’re so good at this.” eunseok says. 

you stay there for a moment, and hollow out your cheeks. eunseok bites his bottom lip when you come back up.

your eyes already start becoming red, and you have to sniffle to stop your nose from running. eunseok thinks you look beautiful. your determined look softened to something more needy, and eunseok was sure his eyes mirrored yours. he lets one hand tangle in your hair and slowly guides you back down to take all of him.

“you got it” he encourages when you take a brief pause.

you nod with your mouthful of eunseok and grab his other hand. he interlaces your fingers with his. the hand in your hair is just for show—the pace and how deep you take him is entirely in your control. you squeeze his hand when you gag, and eunseok coos you assurances and compliments.

“your mouth is so perfect baby.”

“making me feel so good.”

“keep going.”

“you’re so pretty.”

eunseok can feel the vibrato of your moans come from the back of your throat each time he compliments you. the vibration makes his dick twitch in your mouth. his hips occasionally jump up, and each time you look at him begging for more.

eventually it’s eunseok squeezing your hand, warning you that he can’t hold his hips back anymore. you nod and move his hand to the other side of your face. you place steady and firm hands on his thighs, ready to push back if it becomes too much.

“can i?” eunseok asks, nearly shaking.

you nod and say something that is blocked by eunseok’s heavy dick in your mouth. he takes what he can, a hand tighten in your hair and he places a guiding hand on your cheek. he tilts your head and eunseok lifts your head all the way off his dick, until a nearly invisble string of spit connects his tip to your flat tongue. eunseok massages your throat, enticing you to loosen it before he pushes your head back down his dick. when your halfway there, his hips meet you the rest of the way. eunseok can feel himself against the back of your neck, and how your lips stretch around the root of his dick. 

eunseok grips you there, and shakes your head so he can snuggly fit inside your tiny mouth. when you gag he pulls out and repeats the motion, until his hand holds your head in place and his hips take him all the way. eunseok wipes the tears from the corner of your eyes and lets his moans bounce off the tiny walls in your room. he’s sure of a noise complaint, or at the very least evil looks when he runs to someone in the mailroom. but eunseok doesn’t care when he turns your head and pushes halfway in until he presses your cheek as far as he’s comfortable with. 

when eunseok places his hand over your soft cheek and feels the bulge of his dick press against his hand, he goes into a frenzy. the steady rhythm he has is ruined instantly when you look up at him and whine. he becomes fixated on stuffing half of his dick into your small mouth and the pain of your nails digging into his thighs. you don’t push back, and when eunseok looks down at your body he sees you grinding your hips against a balled up blanket. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” eunseok lets one hand fall from your face to place it over your hand. “i’m close.” eunseok whimpers.

he’s rushing himself again, and he wishes he could slow down to enjoy the moment. but the burning in his thighs on pushes him quicker to the edge. 

“where?” eunseok asks you quickly. when you control back, bobbing your head up and down at a fast pace eunseok sees stars “in your mouth?” he asks quickly.

all eunseok needed was a nod and murmur from you before he thrust his hips up one more time before stilling them. he can feel the sweet release, and how it drips down his length before your quick tongue swipes it up. he stays there, back slightly off the bed while he keeps giving you cum. your name and a million thank you’s and fuck’s slip past eunseok’s lips. when he thinks he’s down, you bring a gentle hand to massage his balls. 

when eunseok is finally done and the last spurts go down your throat, he relaxes. it’s a full body relaxation, so much so that his lower back cracks in relief. he gives your every last drop, and you continue to bob your head up and down slowly even after there’s nothing left. 

as fast as eunseok was cumming he is tender to the touch, instinctually laughing from the almost ticklish feeling of you continuing your ministrations. eunseok has to pull your head off his dick, but you start to pump his length slowly while you rest your head on his thigh to catch your breath. eunseok has to place a firm hand over yours and shake his head before you pull your tunnel vision from his dick to his pained expression. 

“sorry.” you laugh and place one more kiss to his tip. “got carried away.” you say.

eunseok can only let out a light chuckle. the remaining last bit of his strength pulls you up from your spot between his legs to bring you in for a hug. you kiss him back with ease, like he wasn’t just using your mouth like his personal pocket pussy a few seconds ago. your tongue slips past his lips and you guide his hands to knead your breasts again. eunseok can’t let anything continue before he showers you with praise and appreciation for making his birthday so special. so he pulls away from you and distracts you by looking deep in your eyes softly. when he places a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose you close your eyes. eunseok makes quick work of you, by the time your eyes are opened it’s him on top. 

your pout is incredibly cute. eunseok laughs and kisses the creased skin on your forehead as your fucked out eyes try to scowl at him. 

“don’t laugh at me.” you try to be angry, but eunseok sees the smile on your lips.

“let me make it up to you,” when eunseok sees you open your mouth to protest, he kisses your complaints away.

“it is my birthday after all.” eunseok says before kissing you again.

#01zfan: eunseok #eunseok smut #riize smut

[thevirgincherry]

ASKING FOR IT !

ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, smut, cheating (not on reader), ooc leon sorry, he’s mean, negging, misogyny, reference to past rape/non-con, unresolved trauma, suicidal thoughts duhhh, he calls reader ugly a lot, leon subs for his gf but doms reader, non-con to consensual sex, manipulation, some .. uh waterboarding? he dunks your head in water, opioid addiction but it’s minor LMFAOO

note. haii… um feedback whether it’s good or bad appreciated really forced myself to write this so im like ack. hating everything i write but! ignore typos :3 it’s not as fleshed out as i wanted .. soooo it reads pretty jolty but yah 😭 and the smut is like not. IDK I’m ugh not into it just couldn’t bring myself to extend stuff that I really wanted to develop n he’s ooc. BUT!! again ignore typos or I’ll cry n feedback/constructive criticism appreciated <3

Leon has a girlfriend. He can never hold down a girl, his ability to scare women away is preternatural, so it’s a big deal. And she’s fucking hot. Not like model hot, but pornstar hot. She’s got tits so firm they might as well be bulletproof. Bottle blonde with eyes that swallow up her whole face. Her stomach doesn’t crease when she sits. It’s the type of beauty that takes its form in slashes of red lace and nylon. Not many women are out of his league, but she is.

They have hot sex like attractive people tend to do, and it goes something along the lines of this.

He goes:

Is that dick good, baby? You like it? Right there, baby?

And she goes:

Fuck, yes, baby! Harder, deeper— Oh, right there!

And then she doesn’t cum.

So there’s that, but he’s working on it.

Leon doesn’t take well to tips on how to fuck. Reading advice columns in the Men’s Health magazine leaves a funny taste in his mouth. It might be the blood from the castrated image of his masculinity. Who knows.

He struggles with that sort of thing. A nice face does nothing for a man who doesn’t actually like anything about himself. Leon’s still that wimpy self-hating loser he was all those years ago. In all fairness to God, there are a few added tweaks here and there. Some bug fixes. Now he’s drunk and shallow too! Misanthropic when he’s at his very best.

As a kid, mom told Leon to be a nice boy so he was a nice boy. Not because he was ever a particularly nice boy, but for her sake. So instead of acting out he would go and crush ants beneath his thumb in the front yard because there is this mean part of Leon that splinters inside of him like cooked bones.

Life to Leon is being fucked into apologising for being alive so it’s no wonder he’s still harbouring the insecurities of a boy he isn't.

When he was eighteen it was by ugly old men who abhorred him for being the embodiment of whatever it was they were hiding from their wives. His legs looked nice thrown over a pair of big shoulders. They were so thin back then, model-type shit. All of those men mildly resembled his dad, but that’s something he wouldn’t quite like to crack down on yet. Leon’s being open enough as it is.

When he was twenty-one it was his headache of a first girlfriend. It was the bullet wound in his shoulder. When he was twenty-two it was being passed around boot camp like a dirty needle. When he was twenty-seven it was Luis who was nothing and everything in between. It was a picture book princess like Ashley. The scar on his shoulder. Stigmata. Glory Be. Whatever.

(And Jack, it was always Jack. Pale all over like a healed scar.)

What Leon is trying to get across, he’s not quite sure. Maybe that he's nice in theory and the reality is he’s a self-confessed charlatan of niceness. Or that he can’t fuck. He can’t fuck because he is deeply traumatised. Yeah. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say. It’s an excuse, sure, doesn’t make it the truth though. Leon can’t fuck ‘cause he’s useless at most things that don’t include guns. He can’t fuck ‘cause he was unattractive as a teenager and that solidified the way he feels about himself now.

Leon’s got one thing going for him - he fingers her pussy till his fingers prune. Eats her out till he gets lockjaw.

“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she says, kissing his slicked-up lips.

Then her eyes flit to his hard dick and she gives him that strange half-smile. One that seems to say: Not with that. His dick. Obviously.

His shit is big enough, it’s long enough— It’s enough. And it’s pretty. Could put a bow on to make it real cute. Could manufacture a dildo inspired by it. So Leon cannot for the life of him wrap his head around her problem. It’s not his dicks fault her pussy is fucking broken. Her broken pussy doesn’t get to make his dick sad. Doesn’t get to lay devastating blows on his gone-with-the-wind ego.

Another thing is, her sister is an ugly bitch. That upsets Leon and his dick in tow. You’re a student, taking a break for some reason Leon has not bothered to fathom. He couldn’t care less. Go do it someplace else. In this house, you’re nothing more than a cockblock. Leon could forgive you for being a cockblock if you weren’t ugly. Or vice versa.

It would be okay if Leon wasn’t stuck at home with you for hours at a time. Work fucked up his back, so he’s staying here in his girlfriend’s apartment eating her food, running her taps, fucking her badly and shitting on her sister.

You’re sat on the other end of the table with a soggy bowl of cereal while he nurses a juice box like a real man. What do ugly little things like you think about anyway?

When Leon was ugly he thought about forcing his dick into the cute girl next door between his more regular thoughts of what to eat for dinner and whether he stocked up on toilet paper or not.

When he was ugly, his day was made simply by a pretty girl looking in his general direction. So Leon makes sure to look in yours. Y’know, to fuel your perverted wet dreams. Your rape fantasies. What freaks think about when they’re near hot guys. Well, it’s strange actually. You tend to totally ignore him. When the two of you make brief eye contact, you don’t flounder or duck or bow your head like you’re shy— You just move on with your life. That bothers him. Leon’s hot now. He’s not the type of man you just brush over like that. He’s the type you gawk at in broad daylight, he’s the sort of guy you see in soft porn magazines.

“Good morning,” his girlfriend greets, “have a good sleep, sweetie?” She bumps your hip when you stand up to hug her.

She’s wearing stockings today. Oh, he loves stockings. He loves pencil skirts. He loves— He loves office wear. He wants to be put over her lap and spanked raw perhaps.

“Yeah, it’d be nice if your boyfriend stopped moaning like a girl though.” It’s said into her ear, but Leon hears it.

“I’m going now, honey,” his girlfriend tells him.

Like a good boy, Leon stands to bid her goodbye. Her blouse is sheer, shows off her black bra and he eyes it with distaste.

“What’s wrong, Leon?”

He doesn’t speak. Just glares at her perfect set of tits like a baby weaned off milk.

“I can’t take them off,” she snorts.

Leon wishes she could. Hang ‘em up in the closet and pop them back on when it’s time to play. Tits are for the bedroom. Otherwise, they’re too much of a distraction. Instead, he settles on slipping his hand up her skirt to check if she’s wearing panties. (There’s no panty line showing through her pencil skirt and that’s always a bad sign.) She shoos him away.

So Leon leans in for a kiss, and she says, “Nuh-uh, honey, you’ll ruin my makeup.” Then she gives in ‘cause Leon can be kinda cute when he tries hard enough. “Just one, okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon nods. Her kisses are analgesic. Which is unfortunate considering he has an opioid addiction. Almost an addiction.

“One,” she counts, Leon kisses her again, “two, three, four.”

She’s teasing him now.

“Okay, well, keep an eye on her, Leon.”

“I’m not twelve,” you say, exiting the kitchen to spare yourself the sight of him groping your older sister.

Yeah, and Leon’s not a bang nanny.

He wipes the red from his lips, takes his juice box from the table where you’re no longer and decides jerking off in the shower will make him feel better. Leon does. He finishes. Watches his seed wash down the drain and wonders if that was wasteful. A short intermission is taken, then he jerks off in front of her full-body mirror. His biceps flex and his abs tighten, and he looks fucking good.

Why isn’t she cumming? What’s wrong with her? Is she getting too old? Is menopause hitting already? She’s only thirty-something. It can’t be that, and she asked Leon to pick up tampons last week— Unless they were for you.

Nobody in this house tells Leon anything. Another shower is what he needs. No, he needs a smoke. Leon doesn’t smoke. He does the next best thing, rests idly against the railings of her balcony, observing the ballet of D.C. life. Man, he could throw himself over right now. Splat against the asphalt and that would be it. It’d all be over. Hauling his weight over would be no problem. Catastrophizing to pass the time. Men used to do this for a living in Ancient Greece. What happened to philosophising? Leon could be a philosopher, all they did was spout nonsense and he is good at that. Not at fucking, however.

Beer. Yeah. Beer. That’s what he needs. Leon ransacks the fridge to no avail. Health-conscious living is the reason for misery, he believes. See, very insightful, modern-day Socrates right here. Lean proteins, vegan substitutes, low-fat yoghurt— It’s so girly it makes him sick.

“She’s still on a health kick,” you say from behind him, “I thought it was a New Years thing, but she’s still, like, super into it.”

Why are you talking to him? Leon blinks at you owlishly. “Right,” he says.

You give him a funny look, turning back to the counter to use the coffee machine. Don’t you want him? You’re not shy. Why aren’t you shy? Shouldn’t you be shy? Ugly Leon was mute around girls whether they were short, fat, ugly or pretty. Shit, he is clucking for a beer.

“There's Chardonnay under the sink.” Well, that’s unhelpful.

“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t drink that.” He would like to finish his sentence off with ‘girly shit’ but you seem like the type to find that offensive.

“Figured.” The coffee machine whirs. A lobotomised silence ensues. “Good talk.”

You’re so ugly you’re asking for it. Perfect subject for the ‘I can’t make my girlfriend cum, is her pussy broken?’ experiment. Ugly girls don’t count as a fuck, right? Not when they’re sent to the very back of your mind after said fuck. He wonders how many girls counted the uglier him as an official lay.

You’re on your tummy reading a book. The Beautiful and Damned. Leon had no idea they wrote a book about him. The door creaking exposes his creeping against his will.

“Do you need something?” you ask without batting an eye.

The swell of your ass is nice. “Uh, yeah, I do.”

Rolling over and sitting up to face him, you tilt your head to the side. “Go on.”

“I want to have sex with you.” Woah. Okay. That’s a genie he can’t put back in the bottle. Fuck, why does he do this stupid shit? Leon should just kill himself. All roads lead to suicide. Every sign points towards suicide and he is still holding on for dear life.

Think about Sherry. Sherry won’t care, kids hit sixteen and don’t give a fuck about much, he reasons with the voice in his head. How about Claire? Oh, she’ll think good fucking riddance. Redfield? No way. You are truly out of options, Kennedy.

“I’m sorry?”

Oh, god no, Leon’s the one that should be sorry. “You heard me.” The apology comes out incredibly wrong. “I’m helping you out.”

“Helping me out with what? I’m sorry, Leon, I didn’t… I didn’t think I— I don’t know what made you think I wanted this from you, but I don’t like you—“

You don’t like him? Why not? He’d like a list of reasons with a page-long explanation. What’s not to like? The hair. It’s the hair. Blond is too girly. That’s what it is.

“—I mean, you’re with my sister, did you really think I would say yes? I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused, where is this coming from? Gosh, I really… I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m helping you out,” Leon repeats, using his hands to gesture at your face, at your body. “No one else is gonna do it.” This apology has gone way out of bounds. A simple sorry would have sufficed.

“What..?” Something doleful crosses your face, then it twists unpleasantly. “You think I want to have sex with you… ‘cause I’m not cute? Like, you think I’m…”

Ugly, yes. He does. Only a little. Can you turn over? He wants to make you cum. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”

“Oh my god, there’s, like, something wrong with you!” You stand to your full height in a pitiful attempt to appear frightening. That face is enough to scare a man away already. “Get out— And I am so telling her when she gets back home, I told her I didn’t like you, I told her and now you just-“

Leon grabs you by the jaw, squeezes you so tight it clicks. “Okay, sweetheart, here’s how this is going to go,” he starts, taking both your wrists in a single hand, “we’re going to start over, and you’re going to be a good little girl and apologise to me like you really mean it.”

“Apologise for what?” It comes out muffled through your forced pout so he chooses to ignore you.

“I don’t know what you fuckin’ said.” Leon should just end it here, he should let go of you and check into the nearest asylum. He’s hot. Leon is box blond. He’s tall enough to dwarf most girls. His face is nice. His body is nicer. So he doesn’t know what his problem is. Once pinned down, you shrink away from him, expression so sour your skin looks ready to melt off your skull.

And then he fucks you till you stop screaming. He leaves you in a withered heap, heads back to his room to take a well-deserved nap, hides his face in the pillows. They smell like her. He should think about killing himself some more. That gun looks awfully shiny. Nth time could be the charm.

She gets home in the evening, drops her bag on the floor to alert him of her entrance.

“I missed you.” Leon noses at her neck.

“You were sleeping.” She ruffles his hair like he’s a child.

“I still missed you.”

“Even when you’re sleeping?”

In the least creepy way possible, he wants to wear her skin as a suit, and she thinks his body doesn’t yearn for her at every sleeping second?

“The most when I’m sleeping, have bad dreams without you,” Leon mumbles groggily.

“How cute,” she muses, “good day?”

“Great day.” Leon nods. “Real productive.”

“Oh yeah? What’d you get up to?” A singular red nail strokes along his spine.

“Thought about you,” he answers, leaving out the part where he spent half of his time jerking off. Oh, and the part where he fucked her sister into submission. He raped you. He did. Leon doesn’t like that word. Far too harsh.

“Now, don’t push it, mister.” When she smiles there’s a lack of wrinkles— Not even smile lines, it’s artificial almost.

Leon’s good at pushing buttons. He should get paid for it. “It’s true, if you said jump I’d ask how high.”

“You’re so funny, Leon.” She kisses his head and laughs all prim and proper.

“Serious, babe, I’m super partial to jumping,” he says to hear her laugh again. He’s more partial to suicide. It’s great. A one-way ticket off of God’s green inferno. Who would he even be without suicide ideation?

“Alright, but I’d like you all in one piece.” She kisses his cheek. “No jumping, okay, honey?” She kisses his neck and his collarbones and his Adam’s apple and he’s unable to breathe.

“Okay,” Leon says. He gets it now. She’s mommying him. Maybe this is what Leon needs. To play house. A daddy to fuck his throat and a mommy to sit on his dick and tell him that he’s a good boy and he’s needed and he won’t have to think if he has a mommy and daddy to do that for him.

Can he backtrack on the rape thing? Trust Leon to take a good thing and ruin it in the worst way possible. If he kissed you he could’ve wormed his way out of it. Told her it was the medication he’s on, that he had a mental breakdown, a midlife crisis.

At dinner, your silence slips under the radar like cumstains on motel bedsheets. You pick at your food, and when Leon’s knee brushes yours under the table, you excuse yourself. Sometimes he thinks that he is a bad person, this can be backed up by many things. Violating you might outweigh saving the world.

In bed, he thinks about changing, about calling his therapist in the morning, he might take a leap off that balcony, cleaning up his act sounds terribly hard. Leon does this all with his head tucked into the hollow of his girlfriend’s neck. The thinking has killed his boner and now he can’t get it up. So he pretends to fall asleep. It’s an unconvincing performance ‘cause the moment she swipes a hand over his ass he lets out a disgruntled noise. Leon clenches so quickly his stomach caves in.

“You don’t like that, honey?”

He shakes his head, overgrown bangs falling in his eyes. Leon has a nice ass. It’s no wonder she wants to touch it, leg presses have done him wonders, but still, it’s off-limits. She can’t sweet talk her way into this anytime soon.

“Why, Leon?” She’s cupping his ass like he’s a girl. Leon’s not a girl. “You’d look so cute.”

“No,” he whines, and it sounds kind of sexy. He gets it. He can see the appeal.

“I think you just need some encouragement, baby.” She’s taking him apart like a gun. Folding him like laundry. Milks his prostate so well he sleeps like a baby. Not even a shadow of an orgasm to be seen from her side.

She leaves early the next morning and he’s left alone to ruminate. What he finds out today is that you’re pretty diligent at sucking dick when forced.

Leon thinks he would like to break you in a way that only he can fix.

He pushes your head down on his dick till your lips are stretched so far they split at the corners, you gag wetly each time the fat tip knocks the back of your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin.

“Aww, look at you,” Leon coos, “little girl taking big things.”

Fat tears well in your eyes, a faint tremor betrays your effort to hold them back, a single blink and they roll down your cheeks like dewdrops. It might be the dick lodged in your throat, pulsing under your tongue— Yeah, no, it’s his dick in your mouth. That’s why you're upset. No other reason for it. Leon finds you a little ungrateful. A lot of women would pay for this, to drain his balls. Hell, your sister loves to do it.

“One at a time, sweetheart,” he says as he guides you to his balls, “can’t have you choking, can we?” You look up at him blankly. Leon thought he was funny and that’s all that matters. “Go on, spit on ‘em, get me nice and wet.” The drool pooling beneath your tongue drizzles his balls in clear strings, his drippy tip bumps the bridge of your nose, rests comfy on your brow ridge.

You’re struggling real bad. He’ll take it as a compliment. The thing is, you refuse to just lick them, pulling off each ball with a wet pop! and a dry cough. Leon starts to zone out so he shoves you off and quite pathetically, you fall flat on your back.

“You didn’t shave,” Leon notes in distaste, he was going to do you a favour too.

“No— Not for you.” You squirm like a fish on the docks when he hovers over you.

“Not for me, right.”

“Anyone but you.”

“You're not gonna do it for anyone, sweetheart, know why?” Leon clicks his tongue when you dodge his kiss, twisting your neck to keep a distance.

“Why?”

“No one else wants you,” he states, “you’re lucky that I want you.”

“Well, that’s not true.” You’re stubborn amongst all your other undesirable traits.

Leon scoffs. “What, so you ever had a boyfriend?” He runs his index finger along your slit. Bone dry. Serious? He assumes you’re still sore from yesterday.

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t get mad at me, honey, I’m just helping you out.” Leon spits on your pussy, then on his thick cock for good measure, jerks his shaft and presses a thumb to his tip to guide it into you. Your lips fold inwards around him as he breaches your tiny hole. There’s too much resistance for it to be a smooth sailing journey, and you’re new to cock, cunt pushing him out as your body tenses. “I’m being nice to you, so you should say thank you.”

“Oh, god,” you mutter, brows knit in what might be pain or pleasure.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re calling me now?” The look you give him is priceless, small hands settling on his chest as you push at him weakly. “No, baby, you don’t get to do that.” Leon bottoms out, he rolls his hips forward to grind the head of his dick into your cervix, the fleshly opening moulds to his tip and you cry out. He can never tell if you’re enjoying it.

Leon sticks his fingers in your mouth to coat them in spit, you retch and he rubs figure eights on your clit, only then does your cunt loosen up its hold on him. It’s a quick process, the quicker he rubs you raw, the wetter you get, biting down on your tongue to keep quiet, but low groans slip past your cracked lips.

“Oh, there we go, baby, that’s it,” Leon coos, his cock slicked up by your wet pussy, sliding in and out with ease. His hips snap forward, forcing himself deeper into your messy little pussy, so wet you’re dripping down his balls, wetness stuck to your inner thighs.

“Fuck— I can’t, I can’t do it, ‘s too big,” you whimper, a hand slipping between your bodies to lay on your stomach. What you don’t understand is that he is big, yeah, but your pussy just needs to be broken in. Like a new pair of shoes.

“You’re doing it, baby,” Leon says, ‘cause you are doing it. You’re taking it. Body going rigid with each brutal thrust into your sopping wet hole. Whether you can take it or not isn’t for you to decide anyway. “I’m going to stuff your little pussy full,” he tells you.

“No,” you choke out, scratching at his chest, nails too blunt to do any sort of damage. Thank fuck. His girlfriend would go nuts.

It’s a satisfying victory, he covers your mouth to concentrate all his energy into this creampie, fills you to the brim, seed thick enough to stick to your insides. The original aim of his ‘experiment’ is forgotten, Leon doesn’t care if you cum or cry or pass out on his dick.

“I’m tellin’ her when she comes home.” Your threat is weak. He feared the consequences of yesterday, but you said nothing.

“You’re not telling her, you like me too much,” Leon decides, “I know you do, baby.”

“I don’t like you at all.” Your bottom lip trembles, fists balled up by your sides. The contempt only turns him on.

“No, but I think you know I’m right, don’t you?” No one else wants you, and you know that. Leon knows you know that. He’s the only one that is ever going to fuck you.

“Right about what? You’re a fucking psycho— I could get you locked up, I should get you locked up.”

“You should, so what're you waiting for?” If you did report him, Leon would just kill himself, going to prison sounds like a bore. “I think, sweetheart, that secretly, you really like it when I rape you.”

And your silence proves him right.

That report never comes. Duh. You love his dick. You like being roughed up. You know you’re deserving of it. Jesus Christ, Leon needs to call his shrink. Honestly, being around you is hard. It’s like his guilty conscience has developed a human body, shambling around the apartment in the shape of a malformed ghost girl, reminding him of the shit he’s said and done to you. You’re spinning in his necrosed brain like one of those music box ballerinas.

“Leon, be a doll and do me up,” his girlfriend is facing away from him, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders bared to him.

Leon only hears the ‘do me’ part, kissing the nape of her neck, reaching round to grab at her fat tits. “I love you…”

“I love you too, baby, but what do you think you’re doing?”

Leon makes a motion with his fingers, she sees it in the mirror.

“What is that, sign language?”

“No, I want to finger you.”

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, baby, but it’s not the time for that. I asked you to zip me up, Leon.” He zips her up while wondering how she can be so unaffected by him being so stupid.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” You knock on the door, you keep hiding your face from him today. His girlfriend said it’s ‘cause you have makeup on. Apparently that changes things. It’s sort of cute. Like, are you shy? You should be shy.

“Oh, no one likes cliffhangers, honey,” she says, forcing you to swap out some open-toe sandals for a pair of her heels. “Okay, Leon, I’ve left your dinner in the fridge, yes?”

Yes, mommy. “Yeah, babe.”

“And there’s snacks in the cupboard now, oh, and don’t use the tap water, it tastes strange so I stocked up— Leon, will you stop doing that with your jaw?”

Sorry, mommy. “Sorry, babe.”

“He’s totally fucking gurning,” you inform her in a way that screams playground snitch. He’ll choke you out for that.

“Gurning, what’s that?” His girlfriend asks cluelessly. This bitch is in her early thirties, Leon has no idea why she acts fifty. Whatever, it’s hot, he gets a girl with all the traits of an older lady without the sagging.

“Like, y’know, ‘cause he’s on meds.” What a little shit. Is this you getting back at him? Some petty fucking act of revenge? Getting his medication taken away from him by his health freak girlfriend?

“Medication? I didn’t know about this, Leon.” She looks at him like he’s killed her mother. Or raped her sister. If only she knew.

“Yeah, for my back, my back hurts, babe— Th-That’s why I’m on leave. My back hurts.” What a compelling act. Totally not a dude that’s two minutes away from injecting black tar heroin.

“Who prescribed them, a doctor or a vet?” You cock your head to the side. Fine. You fucking got him.

“Same thing.” Leon shrugs.

She makes him empty the bedside desk of pills. “Leon, good boys don’t do this. We don’t take drugs in this household, let me take them off your hands.”

“They’re- Babe, they’re not drugs, they’re for my back— I hurt my back.” Granted, his back stopped aching a few days back, he’s just taking advantage of the break. Also, he’s not a child.

“Your back, honey, I know it hurts.” She waves him off. “We can fix it, huh? I can book you in for acupuncture or cupping— Oh, what about a chiropractor?”

“Fine,” Leon says, voice cracking, watching in devastation as she takes his pills in a black garbage bag.

“Bye, Leon, see you later, honey.” She blows him a kiss and he catches it. He has to catch it.

“Yeah, bye, Leon!” You wave at him, looking happier than you have in days.

The door opens an hour later and Leon takes his hand out of his pants. You stand in front of him with red eyes and messy makeup. Leon, being the gentleman he is, takes you into his arms and rubs your back to soothe you as he tells you, more than a little cruel, I fucking told you so.

At least now you know that some guys aren’t as nice as Leon. Some men will spit in your face without considering how tight your pussy is, they won’t even think about how good your tits look in that push-up bra. See? That’s what the real world is like.

The bath fills as he bends you over the sofa. You’re prettier from behind, dress hiked up, soaked panties around your ankles. His hand smooths down the front of your stomach to cup your puffy cunt, prodding at your swollen clit. You shaved. Funny. Thought you were going to get a dick that wasn’t his.

Leon kneels, he spreads your ass cheeks to lick into your pussy from behind, tongue lapping up the beads of arousal that dribble down the seam of your cunt like sticky honey. He laps at your hole and you arch your back to push into him, his tongue fucking your pussy so well, sloppy sounds fill his ears.

“Been wanting to do this,” Leon says into your cunt, tongue making its way back up the centrefold of your fat pussy, he blows spit bubbles on your clit and then he nips at it until you cry out, startled by the jolt of pain. His dick kicks in his sweats. You taste good to make up for that face of yours.

You cream in his mouth so sweetly, toes curling against the wooden floor. Leon wipes his mouth on his forearm, then he wraps it around your neck, pulling your body flush to his. In his chest, his heart flutters when you press a delicate kiss to his bicep. He feels it and you can’t unfeel that.

“I’m sorry, Leon,” you get out through shaky moans as he sandwiches his shaft between your chubby pussy lips, bumping the tip into your clit as his hips move back and forth. “I’m sorry… Didn’t know-“

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses behind your ear. “It’s alright ‘cause you know now, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, tilting your head so it rests on his broad chest, he gives your pout some wet kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm, baby?” Leon nudges you with his nose.

Your idea of cleaning up might be far from what Leon’s is. He doesn’t think you were expecting something so extreme. But it’s for thinking you’re worth something— For thinking that anyone else would do as little as touch you. It’s to wash off that pitiful attempt at makeup.

He bends you in half over the tub. Your tits hang low enough to be squashed against the edge painfully as Leon dunks your head into lukewarm water. Holy shit. Tomorrow will be the day he overdoses. Why is he doing this?

A strangled noise passes your lips as he lets up, and you re-emerge, Leon wipes a hand over your face to rid you of the streaky mascara and sticky gloss.

“There we go, sweetheart, nice and clean.” He presses the tip into your leaking cunt, it catches on your hole, and you flail, water spilling over the edge, surface tension broken as it ripples.

Honest to god, Leon hasn’t fucked a pussy tighter than yours, and when he holds you beneath the surface? Man, you might deglove his dick. He works his cock into you, and when he’s balls deep in your sloppy cunt, Leon allows you to lift your head to which you pant and gasp and cough. All the shit a drowning person does when they’re tossed a lifesaver.

Your body sags, hanging limp with only Leon to hold you up as he roughly fucks in and out of your poor hole, heavy balls slapping against your skin.

“I love you, Leon,” you tell him, rubbing at your stinging nose with your fist, pussy tightening when he pinches your throbbing clit.

“Aw, do you, baby? You love me?” Leon laughs, the mean smile on his face hidden in your shoulder, “That’s so cute.” He rocks back and forth, shallow thrusts that are more for him than they are for you, rabbiting his dick into your squelching pussy until his balls pulse and his shaft twitches inside of you. “Real— Real fuckin’ cute,” he grits out as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting his load in your willing little pussy.

“I think so,” you whimper, thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach snaps and you coat his cock in your slick. Hey, his dick isn't a problem then.

Leon thinks about calling his shrink. The bad shit he does won’t fix itself like he wants. “Clean up,” he tells you, looking at the wet ground. The soaked rug. Your face.

“What… Leon, where are you going?” You use your palms to mop the excess water from your face. “Seriously, Leon? I just… I told you that…”

He has things to do - Leon’s going to call his shrink and very promptly throw himself over the balcony when she doesn’t answer his call.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 1

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you're eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy & not really edited word count: 1.3k authors note p1: don't mind me starting a new series when i have four other wips on the go :):) i love kid fics and this idea was stuck in my head so i wrote & decided to give it a go and post it. if this does well and you guys are interested, i'll do more. authors note p2: so notes about the series: i gave the readers daughter a name because i hate writing y/d/n lol of course you can change it in your head to something else if you want :) also the last name johnson is just there so i could have a full name but we all know she'll be a barzal also thank u @multifandombabes for giving me the push to post this!! happy reading & let me know what you guys think!

masterpost

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. You did your best to avoid places you knew he would be when he was home, going to visit your grandparents or other family. Anywhere that would give you the opportunity to not be seen by him, because then you’d have to explain your brown haired, green eyed, seven year old. 

You weren’t proud of your choice to keep Nora a secret from Mat but you did what you thought was right when you were eighteen, sitting on the floor of your best friend’s bathroom four weeks after you had said goodbye to Mat and staring at three positive pregnancy tests. He had just left for hockey and you didn’t want to be what held him back and as time went on, it got harder to pick up the phone so a few months after Nora was born, you erased Mathew Barzal from your life. You deleted the photos, phone numbers, social media, with the only reminder being the little girl.

And it worked fine. Until now.

Nora usually didn’t come grocery shopping with you because you always ended up taking three times as long as you normally would. Except, your sitter fell through and your mom couldn’t watch her so you had to bring her along. Which is totally fine until you run into Mat. Who has a girl with him. 

So yeah, everything was fine until now.

It’s kind of comical the way his panicked eyes dart between the three of the girls standing around him. A quick glance at Nora confirms that she’s two seconds away from saying something to Mat which will not go well since the kid has zero filter.

“Hey, you’re that hockey player mama and grandma watch on TV!” she exclaims and you want to melt straight through the floor when Mat looks at you with one eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah?” he asks, kneeling down so he’s at her level.

“Yeah,” she confirms, and then loudly whispers: “I’m not supposed to watch ‘cause some games are past my bedtime but sometimes I’ll sneak out.” 

He offers his hand and smiles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…” he trails off, clearly hoping she’ll offer her name. You hope she just says her first name instead of announcing her full name which she tends to do lately.

“Nora,” she tells him, shaking his hand and then to your unsurprised horror, she proudly tells him her full name. “Nora Nadia Johnson.” 

He keeps the smile on his face but stiffens and gently drops her hand. 

“Cool name,” he says, still smiling but you can see the tension in his shoulders. 

“Thanks! My first name means light and my middle name-”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because you grab her hand, abandon your shopping cart and high tail it out of the store. She grumbles while trying to keep up with your pace and eventually you just pick her up and carry her to the car.

“What did we say about talking to strangers?” you ask while buckling her seatbelt, ignoring her annoyed sighs. 

“He wasn’t a stranger, you watch him on the TV all the time.”

“Have you ever met him?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and she mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“No,” she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a look that is so Mathew that you could laugh.

“Well then, he’s a stranger.” 

You leave it at that because she starts talking about the summer camp she’s starting next week. You’re only half listening, trying to get over the shock of seeing Mat and knowing he realizes that he probably has a kid you never told him about. If you were in his shoes, you would be angry so you are expecting him to show up on your doorstep later that evening but he doesn’t. Part of you wonders if the reason he doesn’t come is because of that girl he had with him but you figure if he really wanted answers, he would come regardless. 

What you’re not expecting, is a text from his sister Liana. You still see his family from time to time out in public but after you essentially ghosted Mat, they didn’t really want anything to do with you. When everybody found out you were pregnant, you lied and said it wasn’t Mat’s which nobody really believed but they couldn’t prove it and you’d used your mothers maiden name as Nora’s last name so there were no ties. You were surprised that his family didn’t tell him anyways, but you thought that perhaps they didn’t for the same reason you didn’t.

To give Mat no reason to stay here and instead, pursue his dreams and go play in the NHL. 

So a text from his sister is unexpected. 

Liana: hey, are you free for lunch tmw?

You almost delete it at first and pretend she never messaged you, but you know that there’s no going back now that Mat saw Nora. He’s not stupid. He probably went home and asked his parents about her. So you text her back a reluctant yes and agree on a spot to meet up the next day.

Nora goes to your moms house because you’re unsure if it will just be Liana who shows up, or if anyone else does. You meet up at a Starbucks and aside from the initial tension, it melts almost immediately and the two of you go back to the big sister/little sister relationship you had when you and Mat were dating. Except now, she’s all grown up.

After some catching up, the conversation turns to the reason she asked to see you. She hesitates, picking at her nails - a nervous tick you know she does - before sighing. 

“Look, everybody kind of turned their head with ‘The Nora Situation’ because it was clearly what you wanted, and it was probably what was best for Mat,” she says. “But he knows now, and he’s got questions that we can’t and won’t answer. Dad had to talk him down last night and his girlfriend went back to New York this morning.”

You wince at that, not liking that the reason his girlfriend left is because of Nora but Liana must notice because she shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

“Honestly, she wasn’t very nice. I’m not broken up over it and Mat didn’t seem to be either.” 

Okay, that is interesting. 

“Anyway,” she continues, “this is Mat’s new number.” She slides a small piece of paper across the table and you gingerly take it. “I know you didn’t want to tell him, and I understand but he knows. So give him a chance, okay?”

You manage a nod and let her leave with the final word. All you want to do is take Nora and leave, to get as far away as you can but something inside you stops you from doing it because maybe Liana is right, and you should give Mat a choice. After all, you were the one who decided to take it away from him in the beginning. 

So later that night, after Nora is asleep, you curl up on your couch with the piece of paper and stare at it for a good fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether or not you text him, you will have to deal with this and you’d rather it be on your terms. You reluctantly type his new number in your phone and hesitate, trying to think of what to even say. This isn’t a conversation you were expecting to have with him. You type and delete a dozen messages before deciding on something simple.

To Mathew: Hey, I guess we should talk.

You take a deep breath, and hit send.

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic

[cherienymphe]

When The Party’s Over (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, forbidden relationship, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

~

Your parents were going to kill you.

If Pope didn’t do it first.

Being invited to a party in Figure 8 had made your entire week, surprised to be approached by two familiar girls you’d talked to here and there during high school. Your family being somewhat in the middle of the two classes that dominated the island had worked in your favor more than a few times, approached for homework help or to study for a test. Both you and Pope had the grades to attend what he liked to call the ‘Kook Academy’, but only one of you actually took advantage of the opportunity.

You hadn’t made many friends, but instead just collected a handful of people you occasionally talked to when you didn’t want to seem like the odd man out in between classes. A face that would be quickly forgotten after graduation, or at least, that was what you thought. You’d been so excited just to be included that you’d said yes without even thinking about how you’d get there. Luckily for you, that part was taken care of as one of them came to pick you up.

Now though, both of them were beyond drunk, and you had no way of getting home.

Your phone had died three hours into the party so even if you wanted to cut your losses and call Pope, you didn’t even have the option to. You hadn’t known anyone else that well, barely knowing the girls you came with, so approaching someone for a ride home was out of the question too. That left only one option, and as much as you dreaded it, you didn’t have a choice.

Walking back home all the way from Figure 8 was proving to be the worst experience of your life. Your feet hurt, and sometime back, you just chose to say fuck it and take your shoes off. It was already so late, time seeming to speed on by, and perhaps that was the worst part. It wasn’t enough to get stranded at a party and have to trek it back home, but at this rate, by the time you got back, it would be way past your curfew, and you’d still get in trouble.

Why you even needed a curfew, you didn’t know. You were a high school graduate now, eighteen and stepping into adulthood. It was almost enough to make you reconsider taking a year off before leaving for college, wondering if you wanted to put up with a year of this, but you told yourself you were a master debater. You were confident that you could get your parents to reconsider. After all, Pope didn’t have one, and he was only one year older than you.

A cool breeze blew by, courtesy of the water that surrounded the island, and you regretted dressing so scantily. If you weren’t coming from the safer part of the island, you might’ve been concerned about being out so late looking like you did. However, when headlights lit up the road in front of you, you wondered if you’d spoken too soon.

You hoped they would just drive on by, but the tell-tale sound of a slowing vehicle had your heart skipping a beat. Swallowing, you looked away, gaze fixed towards your right as they crawled to a snail pace beside you. You thought that maybe if you ignored them, they’d just go away, running through multiple scenarios in which you had to run or defend yourself just in case.

…but then he spoke.

“Aren’t you Pope’s sister?”

At that, you stopped walking, turning to look at him with a slight frown.

Your eyes met familiar blue ones, and you actually felt a little relieved.

Even if Pope and Sarah weren’t friends, everyone knew who Rafe Cameron was. The only son of Ward Cameron, a junior when you’d been a freshman, the kind of guy who didn’t look twice at a girl like you. He was in that familiar black truck that Pope hated so much, leaning against his steering wheel as he peered out of his window to look at you. He was wearing a black cap, but it was on backwards, face free of hair that normally framed it.

“Um, yeah,” you finally answered, remembering that he’d asked you a question.

You didn’t miss the slow smile that spread along his pink lips, perfect teeth winking at you as he chuckled.

“What the hell are you doing way out here so late?”

You hesitated, struggling to swallow as you glanced away. You were embarrassed to tell him that you’d gotten stranded in unfamiliar territory with no one to call, forced to walk home. It wasn’t very mature of you, and the thought of Rafe viewing you as Pope’s irresponsible baby sister left a sour taste in your mouth. You fidgeted with your shoes in your hand.

“I was at a party and…my rides. They got drunk,” you said with a shrug. “My phone died, so…”

You trailed off, gaze briefly finding the pavement interesting. You heard Rafe sigh, and you looked up when you heard his door open. He was leaning over, widening the gap between the passenger door, and you blinked.

“Get in,” he told you, jerking his head.

Your mouth parted, and you looked towards the road. You would be stupid to refuse him, your curfew fast approaching, but you also didn’t want to linger on what it meant to take a ride from him either. Pope hated Rafe, and you knew for a fact that the feeling was mutual, and if he found out that you’d accepted a ride home from him…

“It’s late,” Rafe’s voice reached your ears. “…and you seem like the kind of girl with a curfew.”

Your gaze snapped back to him at that, and you frowned again. Something about the way he said that rubbed you the wrong way, and you swallowed down a sigh. Your parents scared you more than Pope, and if he ever found out, he’d just have to deal with it, you supposed.

You struggled to step up into Rafe’s truck, and the blond wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you in. His hand still lingered even as you closed the door, only finally letting go when you clicked your seatbelt into place.

“Thank you,” you told him.

“It’s on my way,” he said after a while, driving off.

He must’ve caught your curious expression out of the corner of his eye, turning to look at you.

“I’m picking something up.”

Anymore confusion you had as to what he’d be picking up from the other side of the island disappeared when he pointedly reached up to swipe a thumb under his nose.

“Ah,” you quietly said, no stranger to the things you’d heard about him.

Your gaze traveled to the window, watching trees and houses fly by. You could feel his gaze on you, and you tried to ignore it, forcing your mind not to linger on the fact that you were sitting in Rafe Cameron’s truck.

“Was the party fun at least?”

You looked at him at that, finding his gaze already on you instead of the road.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I don’t know if I’d say it was worth possibly getting in trouble for, but…”

You shrugged.

Rafe chuckled, a deep sound that had you looking at him. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on his emergency brake, thumb brushing the leather.

“Then it wasn’t fun enough,” he said with a smile.

You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes.

“Of course, you’d say that. I don’t think any party is worth getting in trouble for.”

“That’s because you just haven’t been to the right one.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you lightly said, looking out of the window.

Instead of responding, he just hummed, and you swore that you felt the heat of his gaze. You gave him directions to your house, the rest of the ride fairly quiet outside of that. When Rafe pulled into the yard, you were so relieved with one look at the time, noting you had eleven minutes to spare. You struggled to put your shoes on, glancing up and finding him watching you.

“Thanks again,” you told him, reaching for the door.

He leaned his arms on his wheel, intently watching you as you hopped out.

“Don’t mention it.”

When you closed the door, he called your name, and you were shocked to know that he knew it. When your eyes met his, there was a teasing smile on his lips, blue eyes hooded with something you couldn’t place.

“…and don’t worry,” he told you, slowly blinking. “I won’t say anything to Pope.”

Even though you hadn’t thought much about that, you couldn’t fight off the relief you felt, and you sent him a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you breathed, hurrying to get inside.

You glanced at him again as you neared your door, awkwardly waving him goodbye and hoping you’d never find yourself in this predicament again.

You moped in the backseat of Kie’s car, sure Pope’s expression mirrored yours. Your mom, bless her heart, seemed to think you and Pope were the same children you once were. Neither of you had the heart to tell her that Pope’s friends weren’t really your friends, and so there was no need for Pope to ‘take your sister along’ whenever he wanted to hang out with them.

You were sure that the party a few weeks ago had spooked her. It didn’t matter that you’d returned home safe and sound and within curfew. The sight of her newly adult daughter going to parties and branching out in things you’d never had before had definitely scared her, and she seemed to be channeling that into guilting you into hanging around Pope more. After all, he could do no wrong and was bound to keep you out of trouble should it arise.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Pope’s friends. It was quite the opposite actually, but Pope had non verbally made it clear he didn’t like the idea of his sister tagging along years ago. You understood it. You had different lives, different circles, and Pope probably felt like he couldn’t really be himself with his sister there all the time. There were parts of him that just weren’t meant for you to see, and you guessed you agreed.

It still didn’t suck any less to be somewhere you felt you weren’t wanted.

Kie always made you feel included enough, but you didn’t know how genuine that was considering her and Pope had been doing a ‘will they or won’t they’ for years now. John B. didn’t seem to know how to talk to you, and Sarah was polite, with JJ being the only one who treated you like he would anyone else.

Sarah was apparently still getting ready when you pulled up, and so you had no choice but to follow Kie and Pope inside as they waited for her.

“Thank God Rafe’s not around,” the other girl said, plopping down on the couch. “I think I’d pull my hair out if I had to look at that smug grin while we waited for her.”

At the mention of Rafe, your eyes found the floor. It had been weeks since that party, so in turn, it had been weeks since you’d been rescued by the older guy. It felt weird to think about him, now, especially in the context of listening to Pope shit talk him. Rafe’s reputation proceeded him, and you never doubted it for a second, but it definitely didn’t match up to the man who’d saved your butt from being grounded for a month.

You guessed that even the shittiest of people had to have an empathetic bone somewhere. After all, the alternative was to leave a lone girl on the side of the road in the middle of the night to walk all the way home. You were positive that even Rafe wasn’t that mean, but you kept that to yourself.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you told them.

“Hurry up,” Pope told you. “Sarah will be ready soon.

You rolled your eyes at that, knowing that Pope didn’t even want you here. You had been to the Cameron’s house once or twice, but they had so many bathrooms that it didn’t even matter. You were bound to come across one. When you finally did find one, you were surprised to feel your phone go off. You were even more surprised to see a text asking about hanging out, coming from one of the girls who’d invited you out the other week.

You were tempted to say yes, wanting to be far away from Pope and his friends. You always felt like the odd one out around them, and you couldn’t hang up under JJ all the time because Pope would choose that time to act like a big brother and tell the blond to ‘watch it’. You’d witnessed it before.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were still mulling it over when you ran into the last person you expected to see.

You didn’t know why. It was his house after all, but Kie’s words had made it seem like he wasn’t even home instead of just hiding away. Rafe had a beer in his hand, and it had been halfway to his lips when he’d collided with you. His brows rose at the sight of you, and that was the only indication you got that he was somewhat surprised to see you.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or concerned to find you in my house.”

You frowned at that, watching him bring the neck of the bottle to his mouth.

“I’m here with Pope and Kie,” you told him, almost regretting it as soon as his blue eyes glinted. “We’re waiting on Sarah.”

“Pope’s here?”

“Don’t,” you begged. “He’s already annoyed enough that he had to drag me along.”

“Some brother,” he commented, and it made you bristle.

Only you were allowed to insult Pope.

“Don’t act like you can barely stand to be around Sarah half the time. She talks, you know,” you reminded him, and Rafe lowered the bottle.

There was a faint smirk on his pink lips, and you watched the way he drank you in, blue gaze travelling over you. It made something deep in your stomach flutter.

“Yeah, but you’re nicer to look at than she is.”

You didn’t know if he was insulting Sarah at the risk of complimenting you, or if it was more the other way around. Either way, you didn’t really know how to feel about that, and you swallowed. It was strange. You and Rafe had attended the same high school for two years, and your siblings were friends, but in all that time, you hadn’t once spoken to each other. Now, in the span of one month, you’d had two full blown conversations.

“They’re probably waiting on me,” was all you could say, and you made to move around him when he spoke again.

“I’ll drive you home if you want.”

You frowned, spinning around to face him, and he shrugged.

“…or anywhere you want. You don’t seem all that happy to be hanging around Pope either.”

Your lips parted before you promptly snapped them shut, frown deepening.

“Our mom would freak out if she knew I wasn’t with Pope like she thought.”

Rafe chuckled, and you didn’t know if he was the kind of guy who laughed at everything or if he just found you funny for some reason.

“It’s okay to lie sometimes,” he drawled, leaning against the wall and resting his gaze on you.

His stare made you feel hot for some reason, and you glanced away.

“I’m serious,” he said, taking another swig. “If you want to go home or meet up with your own friends, I’ll take you.”

It felt uncharacteristic for Rafe, but with that thought, you reminded yourself that you didn’t even know him. Seeing him in passing in the halls and hearing Pope complain about him didn’t exactly count. Pope was so anti Kook anyway, and that had never mattered much to you.

“Seriously?” you finally asked.

Rafe finished his beer, brushing past you.

“I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.”

That response seemed more like him, and you decided to spare both you and Pope just as his voice could be heard from downstairs, telling you to come on.

“My friends are going to pick me up,” you told him as you made your way back downstairs.

Pope frowned a bit at that, and you continued.

“Neither one of us want me hanging around anyway, and I’d rather be with my friends,” you explained.

Sarah had long joined them now, and there was a slight frown between her brows.

“Are you sure…?” she wondered, and you nodded.

“Yeah. They asked about meeting up, and everyone knows where your house is so they’re going to pick me up.”

Pope seemed hesitant at first, but his face eventually evened out.

“Text me when they pick you up, okay?” he continued when you nodded. “…and if mom asks-.”

“I’m with you, I know. I’m not an idiot,” you told him.

They seemed reluctant to leave without you, but you reassured them you’d be fine. You knew that Pope didn’t like the idea of lying to your mom, and God forbid something happened to you, he’d be getting blamed. You waved them goodbye from the front porch, barely a moment passing before Rafe joined you, keys in hand.

You were surprised when he shoved a beer in your hand.

“Uh… I don’t-.”

“Don’t be rude,” he told you, walking past you. “Besides, it’s one beer.”

You didn’t like being rude, that was true, and you supposed that Rafe was just being nice in his own way. You struggled to open it, finally getting the cap off when you made it to his truck. You barely paid attention to him behind you, reaching around you to open the passenger door. Like before, you struggled to get in, and you almost stumbled if it wasn’t for Rafe’s hand at your back, the sudden warmth making you shudder.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting drunk off the smell alone.”

Again, there was that tone that had been there weeks ago when he remarked about a girl like you having a curfew. It made you frown, and Rafe’s hand grazed your side as you finally settled in the seat. He closed the door, and you eyed the beer, tentatively taking a sip as you fastened your seatbelt. You grimaced at the taste, but again, not wanting to be rude, you told yourself not to dwell on it as you took another sip.

You could feel Rafe’s gaze on the side of your face, and you remembered that you actually had to make a decision about where you wanted him to take you. You didn’t feel like answering questions if you went home, and despite Rafe’s suggestion, you didn’t like the idea of lying to your mom…at least not yet. You’d rather give yourself a few hours before telling her you’d been with Pope the whole time.

“Just…take me to the beach,” you sighed.

You decided to decline your friends’ offer, and Rafe was quiet for a moment before giving a low ‘alright’, taking you exactly where you wanted to go.

The third time you ran into Rafe Cameron within the span of a month and a half was at a party. You were four beers and three Four Loko’s deep when you hurried into a room, stumbling inside and almost tripping in your heels. You had borrowed them and were hating them more and more by the minute. You cursed as you fell onto the bed, kicking your shoes off and rubbing your feet.

The muffled sound of music could be heard through the walls, the heavy bass shaking them, and you rubbed your head with a frustrated sigh. You were just about to search your person for your phone when you heard the toilet flush, and your eyes widened, head swiveling around to face the bathroom door. You could hear someone washing their hands, and just when you wondered whether or not to find another room to hide in, the door opened to reveal someone you were becoming weirdly familiar with as of late.

If Rafe was surprised to see you, the only evidence was the tilting of his head. His blue eyes twinkled in the low lighting, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he tossed the hand towel onto the counter. With your inhibitions lowered, you actually let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you slurred. “I got worried for a minute.”

“If you were smart, you’d still be worried,” he joked.

“Ha ha,” you laughed, sniffing, your nose a bit runny from feeling so overheated.

You took the time to drink him in, never one to stare so openly during your previous interactions. It was a warm night, and Rafe’s shorts and plain white tee reflected that. It fit kind of snug, clinging to his arms, and you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who works out.”

Rafe made a face at that, an expression you couldn’t place passing over his features. He approached you, sitting down beside you on the bed.

“…and you don’t seem like the kind of girl who gets drunk at parties. What happened to Ms. ‘I’ve never had beer’?”

“Oh,” you breathed. “That.”

Your tone shifted, and Rafe must have noticed, eyes passing over your face.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I guess I was…mad. It made sense in my head to get back at my parents by getting drunk.”

Rafe tilted his head at you, raptly listening, and you swallowed under his intense stare.

“I get that Pope hasn’t done anything to warrant concern…but neither have I, you know? We’re both great children, always have been, but I’m the only one who gets a curfew and lectures about being careful and…” you trailed off, your fingers grazing your chest. “…and I have to lie and say I’m hanging out with my friends, only I don’t mention it’s a party, and Pope is at the same party as me!”

Rafe chuckled at that, and you frowned at him.

“That’s not funny,” you cried. “Why is he at the same party as me? He doesn’t even like these people.”

“So, you’re hiding.”

“So, I’m hiding.”

You could feel yourself pouting, and your eyes rested on your lap.

“The whole thing has just…really killed the vibe, you know? I don’t even want to stay now. What’s the point if I’m going to be hiding from Pope and his friends all night?” you mumbled.

Rafe took a deep breath at that, and you felt his fingers grazing your skin, moving a stray hair, and you curiously eyed him. The blond just stared at you, running his eyes over your face, and you couldn’t read his expression.

“You want me to take you home?” he quietly asked, hand falling.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I can’t ask you to do that again,” you told him. “You’ve already gone out of your way twice, and we’re not even friends.”

Rafe stood, and you thought he was going to ignore you.

“I’m leaving, anyway. Come on,” he said, jerking his head and offering his hand.

Your lips parted, and you blinked.

“You’re so nice to me,” you softly commented. “Too nice. I would’ve left me in here.”

Rafe just smirked, gesturing for you to get your shoes. You slowly did, reaching out and taking his hand with your free one. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe leaned you against him.

“I can see why you don’t drink,” he teased.

His hand was tight on yours as he led you downstairs and through the sea of people. You were relieved not to have run into Pope or any of his friends on the way out. It was hard to walk, vision swaying, and Rafe guided you to the front of him, his chest grazing your back, and his free hand on your arm. Helping you into his truck was a task, and your head lolled when he buckled your seatbelt.

“I feel like I keep taking advantage of you,” you whispered when he joined you in the vehicle.

Rafe softly chuckled at that, shaking his head.

“Believe me, you’re not.”

You were too drunk to give out directions, but Rafe seemed to remember from the last time. Your parents were home when he pulled in, and you grimaced at the thought of walking through the house like this. You’d never hear the end of it.

“Um…I’m going to have to sneak around to my window,” you groaned, laughing at the predicament you’d put yourself in.

“Been there, done that,” Rafe commented.

He helped you out, one arm thrown over his shoulder as you pointed him in the direction of your window. You rarely locked it, especially when you were going out, and that was what you told Rafe as you reached it. It opened silently, and Rafe’s fingers pressed into your waist and back as he helped you inside. You almost fell, stumbling, but Rafe reached out to twist his fingers into your dress, steadying you.

“Thank you,” you breathed, turning to face him.

He handed you your shoes, and you gratefully took them.

“I feel so bad,” you drunkenly chuckled, resting your hands on the window sill.

Rafe wasn’t wearing a hat tonight, dirty blond hair hanging into his face and ruffling with the breeze. His eyes roamed over your face, his perusal had you swallowing, and you wondered what he was thinking.

“Don’t,” he said, taking a step back. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get the opportunity to make it up to me.”

You nervously chuckled.

“That would definitely make me feel like less of a screw up.”

Rafe only grinned, a wolfish one as he backed away, wishing you a goodnight over his shoulder. You watched him disappear, feeling beyond grateful to him once again, no idea that within a year, you would wish you had never accepted a ride from him that first night, at all.

#dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #Outer Banks

[rizsu]

itsy bitsy crush megumi fushiguro.

sum. megumi has a very one-sided crush on you + tries to court you ( failed ). age gap + for the plot he's 18 n ur 23.

the beginning.

perhaps it's nothing but a fleeting crush at the peak age of eighteen or perhaps it's his desire to feel a romantic love. whatever it may be, he knows it isn't going away any time soon.

you're five years older than him — he knows that. he's been nursing this crush ever since he turned seventeen. the chances of meeting you were entirely slim — as slim as the chance of seeing a blue moon. it all began due to being gojo's co-worker. you were tasked with the dreadful mission of delivering a stack of documents from nanami to him. according to sources, gojo secretly dumped his duties on nanami but nothing goes past nanami's radar. when this leads to that and you being the only employee without any work at the moment, naturally the mission flowed into your palms.

to introduce worse matters, the man himself was. not. home. almost as if he sensed that nanami would've got on him, he disappeared. had you known he'd pull this stunt, you wouldn't have stood for eons knocking and waiting for a white-haired-porcelain-blue-eyed idiot.

however, there was someone home. not gojo, but a teenager, megumi fushiguro. being caught off guard by the sudden knocking, megumi glued himself to his position. a carton of milk in one hand and a bowl in another, he pondered the consequences of attending to the knocker.

one: be the gentleman he is and open the door with manners.

two: turn every light off and sneak back into his room.

three: pretend it's just the wind.

four: call gojo and notify him of the new emergency quest.

either way, none of the options would satisfy megumi. he can answer the door but he doesn't feel like talking. if he ignores it he knows the knocks won't stop. calling gojo would either send him a voicemail or make him answer twenty questions about whether or not street-food delicacies would be perfect for dinner. no one wants to do that.

opting for the first option, he sadly covers the milk and drags himself to the door.

"hell— oh," awkwardly peeking his head out, he freezes at the unexpected sight: a woman. you don't look like you're here to deliver a package nor do you look like you're here for gojo specifically. just who are you?

"oh, hi! is gojo here by chance?"

nevermind, he should've known.

"no. don't know where he is," megumi shrugged.

"ah, well, can i leave these here? these are documents he's supposed to go through," emphasising on his duties, you slightly lift your arms to redirect megumi's attention to the documents.

"oh... they look heavy, come in." opening the door wider, megumi makes way for you to walk in but holy shit.

it's not like he can't hold a conversation but he literally can't. he purposefully kept his responses short. had he prolonged his speech he'd stutter through every word. never has megumi ever seen such a beautiful woman.

"i don't have a type." he once claimed but whatever type you fall under seems to be exactly what he's attracted to.

smiling at megumi's gesture, you dump the documents on the coffee table. nice house, you think. the interior's surprisingly aesthetic and clean. you'd expect gojo's dome to be a little... messy!

completing your gawking, you ready yourself to leave, "well, thanks for letting me in. i have work to do though, bye-bye!"

"wait—"

"need something?" you spin back, looking at the younger in confusion.

fuck why did i do that? freaking himself out, megumi composes his mind before apologizing, "sorry, didn't mean it."

you shape your lips into an 'o' shape, smiling at him again before leave for real this time, "stay safe, kid!"

mr. can't mind his business.

now eighteen, seeing you around became a regular routine. whether it was constantly delivering things gojo's purposefully ignoring or just seeing you around, megumi's eyes were always on you.

it's been a year and his feelings did not cease. rather, they got bolder. the tips of his ears easily coloured itself red whenever you were around. he still keeps the conversations short — actually, he keeps his replies short. megumi grew fond of hearing your voice. your voice to him is what a mother's voice is to a baby: soothing.

the attention megumi pays to you versus gojo did not go unnoticed. as much as it's funny witnessing megumi malfunction, gojo feels offended. megumi hardly listens to him but you? you don't even need to say five words. the moment he hears "megumi, can you" he's on his feet ready to move.

while gojo chose to not pester megumi with any questions, the urge is eating him inside-out. ever since megumi suddenly showed interest once your name was mentioned, gojo's curiosity has been more difficult to tame than taming an angry utahime.

it's decided. gojo will ask.

rounding the corner, he tip-toes into megumi's room to his bed, removing his headphones to ask, "do you like my co-worker?"

megumi freezes. was it obvious? are you dating gojo? is he in trouble? do you already have a partner? did something happen? a thousand questions yet no answer.

slowly placing his phone face down, megumi asks, "why?"

"i asked you first, fushiguro."

"and i'm asking you."

"okay but do you like her?"

"why?"

gojo pinches his nose's bridge taking in a deep sigh. dealing with megumi has never been easy. there's only one way to beat the demon-from-toji at his own game and it's lying: "well i was gonna ask her to come over for dinner."

megumi sits up, looking up at gojo with peak interest, "when? what time?"

UREKA! gojo cheers in his mind. megumi's reaction was all that he needed to confirm his thoughts.

"too bad. i was lying but we're having chinese for dinner."

"we..?"

"me and you alone you fucking love-sick kid," gojo shakes his head.

not having any of it, megumi throws a pillow or two at gojo. "get out."

gojo walks out victorious. he can't believe his son isn't a loser like the one before him ( toji ). he won't interfere; this shall be left in your hands to realize and deal with.

cliché elevator moment.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. he should've taken the stairs. the one moment he decides to be lazy, he's stuck in an elevator with you. for whatever reason may it be, you seem very talkative today. megumi stuck himself into an awkward corner. it's a safe distance away from you. every time you step closer, he shuffles away. megumi cannot and probably will not indulge himself into physical contact with you. so it looks like it'll be a happy social distancing!

"so what're you doing at the mall alone? shouldn't you be with gojo?" you question him after finishing your monologue about your day.

"i'm an adult now," clarifying — more like reminding you — megumi folds his arms and leans to the side, "but i came for some new clothes."

"ohhhh, what'd you buy?"

megumi points to the pile of bags near his feet, "couple of hoodies and shirts."

you stretch your eyebrows up, giving him a thumbs-up for whatever reason.

as the elevator dings, you ruffle megumi's hair before exiting, "see ya later, megs!"

"megs..?" whispering, he furrows his eyebrows. covering his lower face with a palm, he's in deep thought. the way you easily make him flustered shouldn't be. pondering and deciphering the reasons, it's only until the elevator closes to ascend again is when megumi realizes he missed his get-off. this really cannot be real.

business is business!

like every other night, you came over for dinner. it was originally going to be a dinner with gojo, nanami, utahime and you but... let's just say gojo is unfortunately gojo to two persons in that list.

gojo, for one, did not cook. he never cooks and neither are you going to so he found himself running around buying takeouts. to make his matters worse, delivery isn't available due to the coming storm. in the lonely rain, gojo needs to fight and dominate to get those takeouts. which leaves the best situation in-hand for megumi! alone with his crush? now is the time to confess, convince, and convulse.

"are you cold? i can give you a blanket," megumi asks, totally not offering his own blanket.

"yes please i'd love that. i'm shivering." you take up the offer, watching megumi disappear and reappear with a fluffy royal blue blanket. you wrap the fabric around you, thanking megumi and noting the scent of a familiar cologne.

content with your comfort and his very successful flirting skills, megumi's now left with one thing: confessing. trust, he would not have done this anytime soon but it itches him every night. if he doesn't tell someone he'll go insane.

"hey, can i say something?"

you stop trying to sniff out the cologne's brand, looking up at megumi as you nod, "mhm!"

fiddling with his fingers, he takes in a deep breath before dropping the bomb, "i like you."

one, two, three, five blinks later you process his words. now that he said it, it didn't take long for you to piece the puzzles and realize why he always looked feverish whenever you two were together. he was most likely blushing all the time. not knowing whether to say "thank you" or "aww cute" or maybe even "that's definitely a sentence" you open your mouth before closing again. you must think rationally. one wrong word and you'd crush his little world.

"well, i'm not sure what to say but megs, aren't i a little too old for you..?"

"i'm an adult."

"you're eighteen."

"old enough," megumi shrugged.

now you realize why gojo always complained about battling megumi. he's too good at answering back. cosying yourself into the blanket, you deliver a statement to him, "give me one good reason why i should accept you."

fist in the air, megumi raises his index finger, "one, i don't know" raising his middle finger, he continues, "two, please?"

you sigh, "megumi..."

"look, if not now then can you date me when i'm twenty?" he offered.

oh my god, you think. he's serious about this and unfortunately you're hardly ever serious. you really don't want to burst his bubble. "this is crazy."

tilting his head, megumi waits for your answer.

you straighten your posture, getting ready to spit out a solution, "okay, how about—"

"what's with this deadly atmosphere?" gojo questions, standing still with two hands occupied. holding a confused expression, he raises his eyebrows at megumi standing ominously yet looking as if he's begging for something. you, on the other hand, look as if you're getting ready to slumber. what even happened while i was gone?? gojo thinks.

megumi sighs, dragging a palm over his face. if there's another thing about gojo it's that he finds himself coming at the wrong time when he's never needed. just as you were about to speak he barges in. talk about rude.

"hi gojo," you wave at him before looking back at megumi. poor him. "megumi, i'll tell you later," you whispered to him.

isnt he just so pretty

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #megumi my nicklebutt porcupine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #jjk fluff

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕙𝕖-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - before jenna ortega became a huge actress and held the world in her hand, she only had you

warnings - angst, high schoolers lol, all characters are 18 and up :)

an - school au! senior year for these babies, new series?

—————————

You hooked up with Jenna Ortega.

Big statement to say, but it’s very very true. How it happened though, well that’s a long story. It dates back to when you were both seniors in highschool….

———Past———

You were a dream girl; straight A's, decently pretty, wasn't talkative yet everyone ended up having a conversation with you, just all around good. You were the girl everyone wanted to be friends with, the girl that guys would fawn over and other girls would envy for your vigorous reputation. But alas, that's only the shell that people saw.

In reality, you were someone a mom would scold you for hanging out with because you’re so risky. When you were nine, you climbed a telephone pole and did the macarena sitting on top of it. At fourteen, you somehow hot wired your fathers car and proceeded to crash it, breaking only a toe. And now, at the ripe age of eighteen, you have caused your entire family to move from Miami to Coachella Valley; what a big jump.

It wasn't your intention to almost burn down the school just because you got into a fight and your first defensive measure was to whip out a lighter attached to a can of hairspray and try to turn poor Greta Stone into a Doctor

Phil look-a-like just because she called your brother a fag.

You liked to say it was an accident.

But expulsion was given and boy were your parents angry, so angry that they hopped a few states and ended up in a small town full of party people.

Your brother, Theo, was so disappointed in you that he called you a "queer failure".

"I am not a 'Queer Failure'!" You snarled, mocking your brother's voice.

"But you are, and that is a tragedy." Theo replied, his nose buried in a picture of Rob Lowe.

He was already engorged in a magazine from the local drug store that he didn't even realize he was spilling his Pepsi, which you found of the utmost amusing.

"Will both of you please stop bickering? You've been nipping at each other for so long you didn't even notice we are here." Your mother said, scolding you both..

You peered out the window, your y/e/c eyes focusing on the large familiar building. It was already busy with people, some rushing through the doors while others loitered around their cars and by the bike parking area.

You frowned, but got out of the car with your usual calm demeanor. Theo followed suit, hopping out with what he would call a 'gay swing', and strutted off into the ocean of high-smoked teenagers to presumably get a buzz.

"Behave, okay? I don't want a call again." Your mother said through the car window, smiling warmly at you.

"I'll try mom." You replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek before you walked off.

It was a normal thing for teachers to call home about your behavior; you always ended up being reckless and snappy with everyone and everything you come across. 

But that's just how you are.

With your bag loosely hung over your shoulder and your head held high, you lazily walked towards the school, ignoring the looks you received from passersby.

See, your wardrobe was different from most girls. You didn't wear any of the typical sundresses or skinny jeans with floral shirts, you wore guys clothes, nike shorts with hoodies and converses, no matter the weather. Not trying to peg yourself as ‘i’m not like other girls’, but you were definitely a heavy masc.

As you walked in, you noticed a pair of three girls ogling a guy walking past. He had blonde curly hair styled back into a mullet, with matching denim jacket and jeans, and a white button down. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips, completely disregarding school rules as he went towards the parking lot.

'Typical lazy fuck.' You thought as you passed by.

You eventually made it into the school, and proceeded to head straight for your locker as you didn't need any interaction with anyone here. You fumbled with the lock and it's nerving combination before successfully opening it. You took out your assortment of books and binders, placing them neatly on the top shelf before hanging up your backpack.

You were so engrossed in organizing your locker that you almost missed a certain latina girl walking out of the bathroom. Your eyes snapped to her and followed her down the hall to three lockers down from your own.

That girl was Jenna Ortega, the prime jewel of your highschool, or so you liked to think. She was drop dead gorgeous in your opinion, with wavy brown hair that framed her beautifully freckled face, chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, and slightly tanned skin that looked warm and inviting. She was the girl that you first fell in love with, and probably the last.

You first met Jenna when you were outside fixing your bike in the driveway; Jenna happened to go a different route on her morning walk and had noticed you working your ass off in the California sun. She stopped to say hello and introduced herself seeing that you were new to the neighborhood.

Ever since that day, you couldn't stop thinking about her.

Jenna’s heart belonged to no one, but that still didn’t mean should or even could make a move.You didn't mind, it was actually easier to just admire and imagine instead of embarrassing yourself with a potential rejection.

Doesn’t mean that you still yearned to be with her.

"Hey Y/n!"

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice you knew almost instantly, your body turning to the short girl.

"Hey Jenna." You replied smoothly, though your heart was running forty miles a second from the voice of a girl who could easily end your life with a wink.

“How was your weekend?” She asked, looking up at your with the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, “Was it enjoyable?”

“Meh, it was alright.” You said, grabbing your binder out of your locker, “How was yours?”

“It was relaxing, just what I needed.”

You hummed and nodded, reaching down to grab your water bottle, “Did you need something from me?”

"I was wondering if you had anything to do after school today? I need to study for my chemistry quiz and you are the only person who I trust to help me get it done." Jenna asked, toying with her fingers.

Truthfully, Jenna didn't need help studying for her chemistry test, she actually didn't need help studying at all due to the fact that there wasn't a chemistry test. She just wanted to spend time with her friend, the one she couldn't get her mind off of for some reason.

See, she found you to be one of the utmost unique. From your cinnamon brown skin, to your silky hair that was always pulled back into the cutest pony tail. Jenna saw you as the prime reason to why she questioned her sexuality.

But she wouldn't tell you that, she wouldn't tell anyone that.

"Uh...sure, I don't have anything to do today." You muttered, shutting your locker.

"Awesome! Want me to drive you there?" Jenna asked, smiling brightly, which you found entirely cute.

"Whatever works best for you."

Jenna whooped and threw her arms around your neck, burying her face in your green sweater. She loved the smell of her undying crush, finding that your scent was that of coffee and morning air, far better than any candle or air freshener she could buy.

"I'll see you later!" She said, leaning back to smile at you for a moment before hurrying off to her first class.

You watched her go, smiling to yourself as the girl of your dreams waved to every person she saw. Times like these made you question whether love was a feeling or a curse, especially since your heart thumped for one of the most famous upcoming actresses ever.

What a predicament you were in.

——————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jennaortegaedit #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna #ortega #wolfi writes

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N tags along to a bonfire on the beach with her brother and his friends. She tries to fit in with them, but winds up finding more of a connection to the guy crashing the party. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Age gap @spnfluffbingo Meet cute @spnaubingo “Are you stupid or stupid?” 

Word Count: 3,374 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), underage drinking, mostly implied physical abuse, past injury (bruising/scars), language, slow burn, a little angst, arguing, maybe a little gaslighting, mutual pining, a kiss to the forehead, fluff 

A/N: Also written for @spnfluffbingo and @spnaubingo. 

_____

A/N #2: Masterlist summary and warnings have been updated. Please review before reading. 

_____

Your brother grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you back towards the party going on down the beach. "Stop being such a bitc-" 

"Ow! Quit it, jerk." You tried to shake your arm from his grasp but his fingers dug in, "You're hurting me." 

"Don't be such a baby," he growled, stopping far enough away from the bonfire so the crowd of his friends wouldn't overhear. There was a chill in the air and his friends were gathered closer around the flames now. "I told you, if you wanted to tag along you can't just wander off by yourself. Mom would have my ass if something happened to you on my watch." 

"Screw you, I'm not a baby. Let. Go." 

He finally did. 

"They're all ignoring me. I wanna go home." You said, pointing to the mean girls a ways away. 

"Well, I'm not taking you. I'm not ready to leave yet." He said, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare. 

You knew it was a mistake taking a ride from him in the first place, but you didn't have your own car. And you failed your driver's test over the last weekend. Fun way to spend your sixteenth birthday, with your brother mocking you the whole way home. 

"Then I'll walk or call mom to come get me." 

"No, you won't. Unless you want her to know that I was right and you are a baby." He stared you down, "Just have a drink and relax for a bit, maybe it'll loosen you up and people will want to talk to you." He glanced back at the busty blonde he'd been eyeing all night; the girl you knew he came here for. He'd only been following her around like a lost puppy all summer. She waved and gave him a little wink. "Stop being so selfish, Y/N, and maybe we'll get along for once." 

"I'm selfish?!" You scoffed, you'd only sat around watching the sunset and shuffling your feet in the sand for the past couple hours while he chatted up said blonde. His friends weren't the only ones excluding you. Not that you wanted to be in on that conversation, but you thought the night was going to go a little different. You thought it would be like the old days when things between you weren't so tense all the time. "Just leave me alone and go drool already."

"And you wonder why I never wanna hang out with you anymore." He snapped and stalked away, throwing his arm over the blonde's shoulders when he reached her. Her eyes gleamed in the firelight and you heard her giggle echo along the shoreline when he tickled her sides. 

Everyone liked your brother and you tried to be just like him when you were younger. You were only a year apart but it made a world of difference. You didn't even mind wearing his hand-me-downs until you got to high school and got made fun of for it. But you made your peace with it now, you'd always be more of a tomboy and you couldn't be anyone but yourself. Graphic tees, jeans and sneakers were the epitome of comfort and that's what you wore now while the mean girls had skimpy dresses and tank tops that did nothing against the cold breeze that wafted in from over the open water. 

But a drink might help. 

The beer cooler was up the beach from the horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, but you didn't have to pass them to fish one out from melted ice. You cracked it open and took a sip, souring your face instantly and spitting it out onto the sand. 

You heard someone chuckle and whipped around. A tall guy with shadows cast on his face stood a few feet away, watching you. You glanced down to the bottle in your hand, then back at him. He followed your eyes, his expression turning stoic before you could read him. 

"What?" You asked. 

"It's kind of an acquired taste." He nodded towards the bottle in your hand and you took another sip, choking it down to prove him wrong. He wasn't wrong. Beer was gross. "Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

He cocked his head towards your brother who was now chasing the blonde down towards the shoreline. You didn't think they'd go in, since it was nearly winter and the water was freezing this time of year. But he teased her and grabbed her like he was going to drag her out into the icy depths. 

"Oh. Yeah, he's just an asshole is all and I needed a drink." You explained, raising the beer to your lips for a third sip. 

You wanted him to leave already so you could dump the rest out in the bushes. 

"Same," he nodded and chugged the rest of his own beer. "He shouldn't treat you like that, though." 

You didn't think he overheard but he'd certainly seen the two of you, "He's my brother, that's what brothers do." 

You toyed with the label on your beer, peeling it back from the glass. 

"No, it's not." 

He stepped forward, setting his empty bottle in the bin next to the cooler. The light of the bonfire catching his features enough for you to finally see him. The first thing you noticed was that he was not a friend of your brother's. He was older, too, though you couldn't tell by how much. 

He was a party crasher. Probably here for the free beer. 

"Whatever. It's not like he hits me, he just gets mad and pushes me around a little." You said, stepping back a foot when the guy took another step towards you. 

"He shouldn't. That's called abuse." 

"Not when I do the same to him. Then it's called sibling rivalry." 

"I know abuse when I see it." His voice lowered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His words held a story he wasn't telling and you didn't ask. 

You eyed him again. Between the full moon and the light of the fire you noted a few details that jumped out at you. He wasn't bad looking, actually kind of cute. His eyes held a world's worth of emotion as if he vaulted it up inside himself and swallowed the key. Days old bruising covered the left side of his face, particularly around his jaw, cheekbone, and eye. And he intermittently sucked on the split in his bottom lip that had reopened, probably from when he first smiled at you. 

"Well, your story isn't mine." You said, having had enough of this stranger who thinks he knows your life at a glance. He sighed and looked away, steeling his jaw and rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes cast down to his stomach when his shirt lifted and your heart sank at the sight. A thick scar stretched up his torso from his hip and disappeared beneath the dark fabric of his shirt, peeking back out around his collarbone where the neck hole had been worn loose. Someone had hurt him, badly; you thought that must've been why he was so conscious towards abuse. "Sorry, I didn't know-" 

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" He asked, meeting your eyes and taking another step forward. 

You didn't back away this time, though he was still a good five feet away at least. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, taking off with some judgy guy I just met and wandering down a dark secluded beach alone with him. Real smart. Maybe wait until I've had a couple drinks first, then try again." You rolled your eyes making him laugh silently. 

"I don't hurt women. Ever." He said as if it was a law of his own. 

"What about men?" 

"Depends," he shrugged. 

"On?"

"I've never started a fight in my life." He said, answering a question you didn't ask rather than the one you did. 

"Somehow I don't believe you." You squinted up at him, trying to read him. 

"Then why haven't you walked away yet?" He looked at the party continuing around the bonfire and then back at you. "You don't wanna be here any more than I do, so let me show you something."

"I swear if that something is your-" 

He raised his hands from his pockets and smiled, "I promise it's not. You'll like this." 

"You get five minutes and I'm counting. Also, I'm a black belt so don't even think about trying anything." You lied, although he didn't strike you as the violent type despite the evidence on his face and stomach. 

You scanned the beach for your brother, spotting him still engrossed with the blonde, so you knew he wouldn't notice any time soon if you'd left without causing a scene. You dumped your nearly full beer out onto the sand and set it in the bin with the other empty bottles. Ignoring the knowing smirk from the party crasher as you did so. 

"Beer is kind of gross." 

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled, "but it's cheap and gets the job done." 

"I don't see the appeal," you said, following in stride with him down the beach. The sand beneath your sneakers making it hard to keep up with his long legs. "Can you walk slower?" 

"Sorry," he slowed his pace and you easily caught up. "Drink a bit more than a couple of sips next time and you will." 

"I'd rather waste the calories on chocolate, thank you." 

He laughed silently again and sucked the split in his lip, "What's your name?" 

"Uh, Y/N, you?" 

"Dean." He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "So, how come I haven't seen you around here before, Y/N?" 

"We just moved here," you said, not wanting to explain how you didn't exactly get out much and explore the town over the summer. 

"Then you haven't been to the pier?" He asked, cocking his head towards the end of the beach where you were headed. 

It wasn't so much a pier as it was a small row of shops and a parking lot. Some storefronts were still lit up against the darkened sky and a lighthouse sat on the rocks near the shore. The light at the top swung around and around over the jagged rocks reaching into the water. 

"Seriously? You wanted to show me a lighthouse? That's not exactly special. Lighthouses are a dime a dozen around here, if you haven't noticed." You said a little disappointed and glancing back at the party. 

The bonfire merely a speck amongst the stars along the beach now. If you accounted for the walk back it would definitely stretch over the five minutes you'd promised him and you stopped walking. 

Dean noticed when you fell behind and turned to you. He laughed a little and smiled, "That's not where we're going." 

He reached out to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you gently until you laughed and skipped a step. He was troubled, that was for sure, but you didn't have a reason not to trust him. Not that trust should be given easily without question; but still, you welcomed the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours as he led you across the parking lot and up to one of the shops. 

"Ice cream," you stared up at the sign before Dean pulled you into the store. 

"Mhm," he licked his lips, guiding you up to the display of tubs sitting in the freezer and separating you from the older blonde woman behind the counter. 

She nodded to Dean like she knew him and he smiled back, "Hey, Donna." She didn't react at all to the bruises on his face and your mind started to wander. 

"I was starting to think I wasn't gonna see ya before closing," she said, retying her pink apron as if she was getting ready to close up for the night. 

"You know me better than that," he feigned hurt and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

You scanned over the flavours, some so bright you wondered if it was possible to taste a colour. "Isn't it kinda cold for ice cream?"

"Never," Dean shook his head like you'd said something foolish. "These shops are seasonal and it's the last night they're open until they close for the winter. You'll have to wait at least four months before you get this again. And trust me, once you try it, winter will feel like an eternity for your tastebuds." 

You smiled, you couldn't argue with that logic, "What flavour should I get?" You asked, assuming he'd probably have tried them all by the looks of it. 

"My favourite is the mocha with all the little chocolate pieces. It's basic, I know, but classic." He pointed to a tub filled with dark brown speckled ice cream. 

"Two mochas, please." You said. 

"Sure thing," Donna said and scooped you out a couple of cups. 

Dean gave your shoulder a squeeze before giving you some space to enjoy your ice cream.  

He kept eyeing you as you took your first bite, then your second, "And?"

"Okay, you're right. It's fudging amazing! Can we get more?" You asked, glancing back at the shop from where you sat outside on a bench under a streetlamp. 

"You still have a whole cup.” He barked out a laugh and you shovelled a few spoonfuls into your mouth. 

A chilled throb wracked through your brain and you paused mid-bite to squeeze your eyes shut and fan at your frozen mouth. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth and just as the feeling started to ebb away you felt hot, sticky lips lay flush against your forehead. Dean’s hand held the back of your head and you blinked open your eyes, feeling warm and fuzzy. 

"Better? My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid. Always seemed to help." He said and tilted his head to the side. 

You weren't sure if it was what he did or the shock of the unexpectedness of it, but it dulled the pain. He hadn't backed up an inch and you could see the gold flecks in his green eyes under the streetlamp. Framed by the yellow edges and purple patches of the bruising next to his left eye. His hair was sandy brown and short but still fell over his forehead and brushed the tips of his ears. And freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose on pale skin. He was pretty cute and different from most of the boys you usually met. 

You nodded and blushed, sneaking another spoonful of mocha ice cream between your lips. He laughed silently and leaned back, picking back up his own cup of ice cream from the bench next to him and digging in. 

"You're strange and kinda wonderful." You said around a bite full, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth when the brain-freeze threatened to come back. 

"That's oddly the nicest thing someone's said to me in a very long time." He took a bite and licked his spoon clean. 

"That makes me sad." 

"Makes me happy," he mumbled and smiled. 

"Like I said, strange." 

"Because you're so cool and composed, right?" He's teased, pointing with his spoon. 

"I'm a delight and you know it. That's why you just had to get me away from all those other guys down on the beach. Before they had the chance to notice too, of course." You joked, brushing your hair back when the breeze carried it away. 

"You caught me, I'm a sucker for a girl who tries to bite my head off with one wrong look." 

"You make me sound like a praying mantis." 

"In that case, I guess I'm safe as long as we don't have sex." You both frowned. "Sorry, that was awkward, I swear it sounded funnier in my head. Because you know they only eat their mate after-uh-mating..." He stuck his spoon in his ice cream and stirred until it was smooth like soup, "What?"

"You're blushing," you said, "it's cute." You liked being able to do that to him. "But you should know I'm sixteen." 

"Wait. What?" He looked like you'd just punched him in the gut. "But you were drinking." 

"When did you have your first beer?" 

He thought to himself for a moment, clearly he had been younger than you; then he abandoned his ice cream on the bench beside him. “What about your friends?” 

"Some are eighteen. But most are seventeen, same as my brother, they're his friends." You explained. "Don't ask me how they got the beer." You attempted to lighten the mood but he just stared down at his hands, rubbing at the cuts in his knuckles. "How old are you?" 

“Too old for you,” he shook his head and picked at one of the scabs. “Twenty-one in January.” 

So essentially there was a five year age gap between you. It wouldn’t be a big deal, if only you were older; but for now it didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends. Your gut twisted at the thought of never seeing him again and you could use a friend; and it looked like he could, too. 

Your cell rang and you fished it from your back pocket. Your brother's name sprawled over the screen. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, then answered, "What do you want?"

"Are you stupid or stupid? Where the fuck did you go?!" He shouted and you were sure Dean could hear, so you turned down the volume on your phone. 

"For a walk." 

"We're leaving." 

That meant the blonde was tagging along, either hitching a ride home with you or your brother was just going to drop you off at home before taking her to park somewhere and... -You didn't want to think about it. Your brother, like that. Gross. 

"Maybe I don't wanna leave yet. I made a friend." Dean mirrored your smile. 

"Find your own way home then..." he grumbled a few choice words and hung up. Asshole.

"Any chance you have a car?" You asked, silencing your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. "I need a ride." 

"Uh- no. But I know where we can get one." Dean said as he checked the time on his wrist. You fingered your ice cream and booped him on the nose. "What was that for?" He laughed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

You shrugged, "Just trying to lighten the mood. You look so sad," you raised his chin with your fingers, "Chin up, Dean." 

"Did you mean that?" He asked. 

You lowered your hand to rest on the bench between you, "Mean what?"

"That we're friends," he asked, chewing on the split in his lip. At this rate you didn't think it would ever heal over. "I mean, that we can be friends." 

"Uh-huh, unless you don't wanna be my friend." You nodded and searched his eyes, some kind of hurt flashing through them. 

"I think that's all we can be. At least, until you have a couple more birthdays." 

Your typical luck, the one guy you could see yourself interested in and he's too old. It was only nearly five years, sure, but you were only sixteen and he'd probably had a lot more experience that you couldn't compare to. But he was cute. 

Window shopping couldn't hurt right, until you had the means to buy. 

"I can wait," you teased and laughed. "But you look like you could use a friend. And I got your back, since I kind of owe you one for introducing me to this ice cream." 

"You don't owe me anything, Y/N." 

You shivered when the ice cream was gone and Dean stripped out of his hoodie, draping it over your shoulders as you walked along the side of the road towards his house. He apparently didn't live far away and if his father was home, he could 'borrow' his car to give you a ride. He actually used air quotes when he said borrow though, so you were a little skeptical. 

_________________________

Part 2

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @globetrotter28

#spnfluffbingo2022 #spnaubingo #au!dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean x #au!dean winchester #supernatural reader insert

[bugaboo25]

I Will Forever Love You Chapter 2

Okay, I'm gonna do it! There's more info on the masterpost about how this is gonna look, but I am gonna post the rest of this! Just bear with me if there's a lot of time between updates!

Masterpost Prev Next

Anways, onto chapter 2:

Danny groaned as he flung himself onto the table. Which, ew, the Nasty Burger employees obviously hadn’t taken the time to wipe down the table in days, as was told by the way his hoodie was sticking to a dark stain that sat next to him. He could feel Tucker shifting next to him, obviously wanting to ask, but Danny wanted to wallow in his own self pity for just a few more moments, thank you very much. Alas, he was promptly pulled away from his thoughts as Tucker nudged his side with his elbow. Danny turned his head, allowing his eyes to scan over Tucker quickly and efficiently. He was taller now, taller than Danny’s own 5’9”, and his beret had been discarded for a beanie that allowed his new dreadlocks to cascade down over his neck. His eyes told of his desire to speak, so the 16-year-old pulled himself into a seated position.

            “So,” Tucker began, his eyes shifting to ensure there were no ears on them. “What did CW want?” Ah, so that was the reason that Tucker drew Danny from his pits of despair. He was going to tell his friends; he just wanted a minute to wrap his head around the news before letting them know. Danny’s eyes drifted over to Sam, and the goth’s raised brow and clenched jaw told of her concern, even though she was trying to seem appropriately interested and not overbearing like she had in the past. He allowed himself a second to appreciate her half-shaved head once again, thinking back to the way Pamela had screeched just two days ago when he dropped Sam off at home after a devilishly fun evening at the mall.

            Danny groaned once again, double checking the restaurant for prying ears before hunching forward and speaking in a hushed tone. “I’m apparently gonna be crowned Ghost King once I turn eighteen.” Danny had to stifle a grin at the loud gurgling noises that came from his friends, the memory of him making a similar noise when he first met Jazz playing in his mind’s eye.

            “Danny what-“

            “When did you-“

            “Guys, guys, quiet down, people are staring!” Danny bit out, though his words held no venom. He knew they hadn’t meant to speak so loudly, and he also knew they wouldn’t be on the lookout for any attention they might gain. They had no League training, and Danny never wanted them to. He couldn’t keep them out of his life as Phantom, but he would never stoop so low as to introduce them to the world of al Ghul’s. He couldn’t, not when the only one in that damn place that ever cared about him was… Instead of lingering on that thought, Danny allowed himself to take on an easy smile as he continued forward. “It’s not a big deal. CW said I’ll have to go the Realms like, once every week or two after the coronation is over with.” Sam and Tucker noticeably loosened as the knowledge that their third wasn’t going to be disappearing into the Infinite Realms forever.

            The trio’s order number was called from the front of the room, and Sam slid out of the booth to go and grab it. When she got back, she handed out their food, and Danny stared down at his vegetarian sandwich. He had decided to make the switch a few months ago, his dreams plaguing him with ghost animals coming back for their vengeance. He had tried to ignore them, but the second that Vlad had sent a ghost cow his way, his desire to eat meat had disappeared. Sam had cheered when he told them of his decision. Tucker had just huffed in annoyance and refused to eat lunch with them for two days.

            “Dude,” Tucker whispered as he leaned into Danny’s side. “Breathe.” And suddenly Danny was inhaling an ungodly amount of oxygen as he realized he had been staring at his food, unbreathing, for the past five minutes. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often forgot, his body no longer required him to breathe more than once every hour. In fact, he still remembered the time Jazz had woken him up in the middle of the night due to his lack of breathing and the fact that his heart had only pumped once in 15 minutes. She had been crying when his eyes flew open, and they had had an hour-long discussion about how important it was to at least act like he was inhaling oxygen when around others. Still, he had to kick the thought about how the lack of breathing would make him even more hard to notice sneaking up on someone to dispose of them out of his mind multiple times.

            Honestly, with how often he failed at the task, it was a surprise Jack and Maddie hadn’t noticed. Though, it shouldn’t be, considering they hardly ever paid attention to the presence of their children. Danny ate his sandwich and enjoyed the comfortable silence that sat between the three friends, his hair cascading into his line of vision. Danny wanted to cut it, but the fact of the matter was, the more effort he put into being a greasy, grimy gremlin, the less likely the League was to find him out. He checked his phone, and, seeing that it was nearing 6:30, the time Jazz was set to get home for her trip back to Amity, said his goodbyes for the night to Sam and Tuck. His eyes slid over the window, and for one heart stopping second, he thought it was Damian with the way the lights reflected green in his eyes. But then his eyes caught sight of the scar on his left temple, and the illusion was broken. He huffed to himself, then willed his shoulders to relax. God, how he missed his brother.

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            Jazz pulled up to the Fenton household with a sigh on her lips. She hated being in the same house as her parents, but she hated leaving Danny alone even more. He had practically pushed her out the door the day she moved to Gotham for college, but she knew he hadn’t wanted her to put her life on hold for him. Still, she wished that she had the money to be able to take guardianship of her brother until he turned 18. If their parents ever found out about him… well, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, that was sure. She may have thought they would understand after she first found out, but it had been so long, and their hatred for Phantom had only grown in the last two years…

            Jazz clapped her hands together. No point in worrying about what could happen, Danny had set so many backup plans in place that she had had to spend an entire 48 hours memorizing them. She just needed to focus on her main goal: get Danny to talk about his life before the Fenton’s. He had kept everything to himself for the past seven years, but this time, his Gotcha Day would be spent healing from past trauma – she hoped. Frankly, she would be lucky if Danny said two words about his past, he hadn’t said since the day she had convinced her parents to adopt.

            Jazz pulled down the sun visor and slid open the mirror, schooling her expression into one of pure will. “You can do this, Jasmine Fenton. You’ve spent the last two months in Gotham University studying psychology, and some 16-year-old boy will not-“

“Whatcha doin’?” Jazz’s pep talk was interrupted as she let out a totally normal, definitely cool and collected, screech. Danny started cackling, his torso sticking out of the floor of Jazz’s car.

“Danny! You can’t just pop into existence right in front of people who are having a private moment!” Jazz was chastising him, but Danny couldn’t help the giggles that continued to escape his mouth. Jazz huffed, threw open her car door, grabbed her bags, and started marching toward the front door. Danny was trailing behind her, but she didn’t care. She had forgotten just how unnerving it was when Danny appeared out of thin air, having empty space and then without warning he was just there. It reminded her of when he had first been adopted, of how he would suddenly appear and then disappear without so much as breathing loud enough to be heard. It was different now, though, as he no longer needed to put effort into softening the sounds escaping her body. Not for the first time, Jazz let herself wonder what type of homelife Danny had had before appearing in Amity.

She had only been able to come up with one plausible theory, and that was that Danny’s parents had been incredibly abusive. He must have had to learn to be as quiet as a mouse to remain out of his parents’ fighting, protecting himself from the vile side of humanity before he should have known how horrible people could be. That kind of history would be exactly the type to make someone refuse to speak about their childhood, so Jazz had allowed Danny to remain silent when it came to her questions. He didn’t have to give any answers he wasn’t prepared to, not until the traumatic memories started to cause real damage to his psyche. She was drawn out of her musings by Danny jabbing her side with his pointer finger, and when she turned a disapproving stare at him, he began rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s up?” At the question, Danny’s hand dropped down so he could cross his arms over the ghost symbol on his hoodie. Honestly, Jazz wasn’t sure his coping mechanisms of ‘joke about my own death while simultaneously ignoring the fact that I died’ were completely healthy, but the clothing articles seemed to help keep him out of a depressive state, so she wouldn’t say anything.

“I was just saying that Mom and Dad were all hyped up this morning about something, so be prepared for anything.” Danny’s eyes took on that shine they usually did when he was talking about their parents, but she had never been able to place it. It was a mix between fondness and disdain, and what that meant for the adults in their life, she’d rather not know.

“Don’t worry little brother, I’m always prepared when it comes to Mom and Dad.” Jazz started opening the door, and then promptly froze in place as she saw the two adults running around the house like their lives depended on it.

“Don’t forget to grab the Peeler, dear! We need to make sure we take as much as we possibly can!” Mom was yelling at Dad as he descended the stairs to the lab, and a booming “Okay!” reverberated off the metal walls of the stairwell.

“Mom?” Jazz stepped forward hesitantly, not quite prepared for the sight of bags full of clothes and machinery alike. “What’s going on?”

“Jazz! It’s so lovely to see you! But why are you here? Didn’t we tell you we’re going to Gotham?” Mom looked at Jazz with a quizzical look, and finding anything remotely resembling care in the purple-tinted blue eyes was almost impossible. Jazz had to once again start the mantra of “they love us, it’s just… hard to see” in her own mind.

“No, you didn’t tell me you’re going to Gotham. Tomorrow is Danny’s Gotcha Day! I’ve been planning on coming back for months!” Jazz was tempted to let herself lose her temper, but she knew that it wouldn’t lead to anything productive. Instead, she settled for looking for any recognition of the one day that they got to celebrate Danny, since he claimed to not know when his birthday was.

“Danny’s Gotcha Day? That can’t be, that’s not until October 13th, right? It can’t be October already.” Mom was speaking as if she was stating a fact, but there was a slight frown on her lips as she checked the date on her phone. Jazz let her eyes shift over to Danny’s form, but he looked almost bored of the conversation. “Oh dear!” Mom was talking again, and Jazz decided that if Danny was okay, then she would be, too. “I’m sorry sweetie, we must have lost track of time down in the lab. You know how it is.” Mom’s voice was almost caring. “We were gonna tell you tonight, as a surprise! We’re going to Gotham for a week, Dad and I have a convention coming up that we just absolutely can’t miss. We’re leaving tomorrow, so go pack your bags!”

“Okay, thanks.” Danny shot off up the stairs, and Jazz followed after him. She needed to make sure he actually was okay; their mom had just admitted to forgetting about his stand-in birthday. Jazz knocked lightly on his bedroom door before slowly pushing it open.

“Are you okay?” Jazz sat down on Danny’s bed, shoving the bunched-up comforter out of her way while nudging a pair of jeans sprawled on the floor. She looked towards her brother and took in his appearance. His messy hair was hanging in his face, and his 5’9” stature was hunched over as he shoveled clothes into a duffle bag. He was throwing items like his chargers, toothbrush, and laptop into his backpack, and she hoped that he would try to do the online assignments that were sure to be filling his email by now.

            “Yeah?” Danny sent her a puzzled look, and not for the first time did she realize that Danny obviously didn’t know what it meant to be a priority to your parents. Jazz’s brow furrowed, but she saw the way Danny was pulling into himself, so she settled for subtlety.

            Jazz stood from the bed and gave Danny a long hug. “I’ll be in my room if you want to talk.” Then she was closing the door to Danny’s room and slipping into her own, the one she had lived in for 18 years, and the feelings of loneliness that hadn’t plagued her in two months crept back under her skin.

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

            Danny continued to shuffle items into their respectful bags, no longer caring if they were messy. Well, that’s not to say he didn’t care, it just didn’t bother him as much as it did when he first decided to take on the persona of a slobby teen. All details would be taken into account when it came to the League. Once he finished zipping up the duffel, he turned to his backpack. He crossed his legs, and for the first time in months, he allowed himself to remember. He thought of green eyes, of heartbroken screams and explosions, and he thought of a presence by his side, watching every blind spot he would ever have. Danny clenched his fists, as he remembered the day just over a year ago. He had just confirmed that his powers were fully under his control, and as soon as he had been alone, he had zipped away. He had gone invisible and intangible long before he reached Nanda Parbat, not daring to risk being seen. He had flown around the entirety of the League’s base, searching for Damian. Alas, even his quarters had been cleared. Danny left, knowing his brother was no longer there, either dead or escaped. He was determined to find out which.

            Danny’s eyes opened, and he stuck his hand into the floorboard beneath his bed. He pulled out the wakizashi, eyes tracing every detail. He didn’t need to take the time to memorize it, as it was as familiar to him as it had ever been. For a brief moment, he considered taking it with him; but there was no way he would find Damian in Gotham of all places. Jazz would have noticed his lookalike by now. Besides, Danny didn’t believe in chance.

            He slid the wakizashi into his bag anyway.

#dp x dc #batpham #twins au #danny and damian are twins #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #dpxdc #the only person danny cares about more than jazz is damian #he didn't give up #he will find dami #eventually #bad parents fentons #danny doesn't realize it's bad parenting #can you blame him he grew up in #a literal league of assassins #he's such a greasy grimy gremlin #said so himself

[sunlightmurdock]

Operation Apollo | 1.9 | Jake Seresin x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, smut, oral (f receiving), choking, risk of being caught, jokes about being caught / photographed, unprotected pinv

…

“That girl has a fucking attitude problem.” The new team of security are learning quickly, and in no uncertain terms, that you don’t take well to strangers trying to enforce rules upon you. Jake’s lips quirk slightly as he lifts your bag out of the car. He chooses to ignore the offhanded comment and swings the car door shut.

Your attitude can be a problem, or it was — in the beginning. More recently, Jake has found that you’re actually pretty receptive to instructions, provided that there is a decent reward. The reward usually being himself.

“Did you hear that guy? — ‘I said stay!’ — asshole.” You complain to Manny, mimicking the boneheaded security that follow you around now. The agreement is that they stay behind, staying out of your way as much as possible. Jake and Manny stick by your sides.

Manny chuckles, shaking his head as he shrugs his backpack closer to his body. It’s almost midnight now and he’s still not a hundred percent sure on what’s so special about some bar in San Diego — he’s even less sure about when you became so chummy with Jake that you’re interested in visiting a place from his past.

But, after the two and a half hour drive that took four hours with traffic, he’s too tired to ask. He’s got a feeling he isn’t going to like the answer. Allen seems to have gotten off easily with the timing of his retirement. Besides, Manny likes the fact that he gets a room to himself tonight since he’ll be working essentially an eighteen hour shift tomorrow. The new guys are taking tonight’s night shift.

After a couple of years of trying to wrangle you with only Allen’s help, things have gotten a little scarier but a lot easier since Jake showed up. Manny growing used to the decreased workload.

You glance back at Jake as he discusses tomorrow’s plan with a few of the new guys. You haven’t bothered to learn their names yet, you’re hoping that they won’t be around long. Even with them around, the house doesn’t feel any safer. As far as you’re concerned, you’d be the safest alone with Jake — which is the plan for tonight.

His room is connected to yours. For safety only, of course — just in case of emergency. It’s just especially convenient that he doesn’t have to exit out into the hallway, into the watchful gaze of the idiots in the hallway, for him to be able to see you.

Only, his evening doesn’t wind up being as free as you would have liked. An hour by yourself, sipping on a martini, waiting for him to wrap up a meeting with D.C. about your impending return to your studies. Plenty of campus visits, being out in public and packed lecture halls — it’s a logistical nightmare with the situation you’re in alone. Another hour. Then, a third.

Jake closes his laptop and stretches out his stiff neck. He pours himself a drink and crosses through into your room. It’s late, he hopes that you’re still up. Tomorrow is going to be hard and he doesn’t want it to start any earlier than it has to.

His brows scrunch slightly as he stares at the still completely made bed. He glances around the spacious, modern room in search of you. The balcony door is cracked just slightly.

“What are you doing out here?” Jake’s brows scrunch slightly but there’s still a soft smile on his face as he steps out onto the balcony to join you. He stands behind the sofa and kisses the top of your head gently. You’re laying on your back, still tucked up in the sweater and leggings that you wore on the drive down.

He walks to the edge of the balcony and looks out. He inhales slowly and closes his eyes, then turns to face you.

You give a small shrug of your shoulders, “Getting some air before bed. Waiting for you to show up.”

Because you knew he would show up, he hasn’t let you sleep alone since you got back from D.C. Jake knows that you prefer having him next to you when you’re sleeping. Jake chuckles as he moves to sit beside you on the sofa. Parting his knees like always, his leg presses against yours. You both look out over the water. “Sorry to keep you waiting.

Another small shrug, this time accompanied with a playful smile as you nudge your knee into his, “Mm, I could probably find it in my heart to forgive you.”

He rests his palm against your knee, squeezing tenderly. There’s a moment of quiet between the two of you, high up enough to not have to hear any of the noise below. You sit forwards, then stand. Jake watches as you move towards the edge of the balcony and look over.

You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder, biting your cheek gently. Jake’s brows scrunch as he lifts a hand and strokes it along the curve of your cheek bone. There’s a glint in your eye that can only mean trouble.

“What’s that look?”

“Have you ever had sex outside before?” You ask, lips quirking up into an intrigued smile. You lean closer to him and nose at his jaw, kissing his stubbles skin tenderly. Jake’s lips quirk in amusement at the suggestion, fingers curling into your side. Immediately, he shuts down your fun little idea.

“We’re not having sex out here.” Jake answers calmly, giving a firm shake of his head and dodging the question entirely.

“Look at where we are, no one’s going to be able to see us all the way up here.”

Jake takes a sip of his scotch and shakes his head. “I’ll fuck you all you want. Inside.”

You frown at him, leaning back against the rail, folding your arms across your chest. “You’ve had sex with other women like this.”

“I never said that.” He doesn’t have to say it. He had a relatively wild youth. Practically X-rated in comparison to yours so far. He understands the desire, but things will always be different for you. It’s growing increasingly hard to disappoint you, but Jake knows that this is practically life or death. There’s no coming back from being caught like this.

His career. Yours. Your father’s. The collateral is too high for a quick fuck in the open air.

“I can tell by the look on your face. What makes me so different?” You insist like he hasn’t already made up his mind. Like you don’t know what makes you so different.

Jake sits forwards and rests his elbows on his knees. “So, when we’re both standing in front of your father — and he’s got a picture of both of us, fucking on a balcony in San Diego, what’s our story going to be?”

You roll your eyes and push away from the railing. You smack his shoulder as you pass him, walking inside, closing the patio door behind you. He plans to give you a couple of minutes to cool off.

Jake picks up his scotch from the end table and sips at it, admiring the view. He wishes he could make things different for you. He tucks an arm behind his head, watching a boat in the distance as it gradually becomes more and more of a small black dot, less of a boat.

He sits out there for a while, until he has finished his drink, anyway. It’s just as he’s considering going in and apologizing that the door behind him opens again. Jake’s gaze remains on the horizon, waiting for you to start telling him off.

He sits back against the back of the couch and folds his arms over his chest. He does his best to look stern as you walk around the back of the couch to then stand in front of him. His lips quirk. Now, that’s just not fighting fair.

“You packed lingerie.” Jake comments, taking his time to examine the soft blue babydoll set that you just stepped out in. It stops at the very top of your thighs, a sheer material with matching panties under it. It had taken forever to pick out.

You nod your head slowly. Jake finally lifts his gaze to look you in the eye. Then, he looks past you at the view. The sky’s so dark that you can barely see where it meets the sea on the horizon. There are a couple of boats out there, illuminated by yellow-tinged cabin lights. It’s calming, watching almost black waves roll towards the shore.

“Well, do you like it?” You ask softly, somewhat nervous. It’s probably ridiculous to be nervous, considering how many times he has seen you naked. It’s just very exposing, standing before him like this.

“You’re cold.” Jake points out, noticing the way your nipples have perked up under the detailed lace cups. Your cheeks warm at his avoidance of the question, fidgeting now under his unwavering gaze. He unfolds his arms. “Maybe we should take you back inside.”

You frown defiantly at him, “I’m not cold.”

He smiles, holding back a laugh as he finishes off his scotch and sets his glass down on the end table. “You’re not?”

“Jake.” You warn, furrowing your brows in annoyance. You fold your arms over your chest. He lifts his hand and curls his index finger, beckoning you towards him. You take a few tentative steps, making your way forwards until you’re standing between his parted legs.

He starts off at your forearms. Trailing his fingers from your elbow to your fingertips, shaking his head slightly, “You feel kinda cold to me, honey.”

“Well, I’m not,” You bite back. His fingers smooth back along your skin, uncrossing your arms and dropping them down to your sides. “So stop being an ass and teasing me.”

Jake grins, this time unable to hold back the soft chuckle that your little request draws from him.

“Teasing you?” He scoffs back, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue as his thumb grazes over your peaked nipple. You lift your chin to look at him, he smiles back. “Honey. You’re not really in a position to talk about who’s teasing who, when you packed this.”

So, he does like it.

Your lips quirk just slightly. Jake hesitates for just a moment, glancing down at your body under the material.

“Alright, come here.” He catches your wrist and gives a gentle tug. Your lips quirk up into a victorious smile as you slide into his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips on the cushion of the balcony’s wicker framed sofa.

He drapes his arms around your waist, pressing just a fraction of his strength into you to keep you still. He presses his lips softly to your cheek. Your jaw. You shiver as his lips graze your earlobe. He stops and pulls back with a smirk on his lips.

“I’m not cold!” You insist, elbowing him softly. Jake chuckles, shaking his head as he resumes his path of kisses. His hand eclipses your hip, curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth works along your shoulder.

“No one can see us from the angle of the balcony — it’s just ocean out there. I already thought about it.” You explain, brushing your hands over the swell of his shoulder muscles, pressing your thighs into his.

Jake’s hand smooths over the curve of your ass, fingers curling into the lace hem of the blue material, scrunching it in his palm. He noses against your jaw and hums in consideration. A gasp slips your lips as his hand comes down hard onto the soft flesh of your now exposed ass.

Jake feels you jolt against him, it’s almost a flinch but your muscles contract under the impact trying to give him the illusion of you being collected about this whole situation. The realization that he’s right on the verge of saying yes, that he wants you as badly as you want him — it goes straight to your core.

“Of course you did, dirty girl,” Jake murmurs, voice low and gravelly. He presses his lips back against yours to swallow the eager little whimper that you let out when you feel his fingers finally breach the waistband of those sheer, blue panties, teasing along your slit. “I bet you’ve been scheming about this all day, huh?”

You press your face into the curve of his neck, worried that the look on your face will give you away — because he’s right. You’ve been thinking about this for a while. Jake feels you smirking against his skin, your plan working. One hand still between your legs, he skims his other hand along the length of your spine. He pulls you close against his warm chest and kisses your shoulder softly.

The heat from your core warms Jake’s fingertips, a contrast to the coldness of his glass moments earlier. He considers dipping his fingers right in, giving you what you want, letting himself feel how badly you want him. But, since it’s clear that you’re already getting what you want, Jake gives in to what he wants too.

“Ask me nicely.” Jake decides, sliding his hand up the remainder of your spine, curling his fingers into your roots. You whimper softly as he tugs you back to look him in the eye.

“Jake, come on — please.” You whine. His fingers are right there, millimeters from where you’d like them to be. He sits back against the couch calmly, expectantly raising his brows. He spreads his knees further, withdrawing his hand from your underwear as your thighs spread around his. Jake’s open palms rest at the bottoms of your thighs, even further now than they were previously.

He strokes his thumbs back and forth gently across your skin, wondering if you’re still planning on sticking with the ‘not cold’ motif when he can see the goosebumps on your skin.

You push yourself forwards, grinding down onto his crotch through the fabric of his jeans, pressing your lips softly to his jaw. “Is there a nice way to ask you to bend me over that railing and fuck me like a whore?”

Jake’s lips quirk up into a grin. Surprised and amused all at once, palms skimming up your thighs. He shakes his head softly, cheeks dimpling as he looks you over. “No. I don’t think there is.”

You weave your fingers between his, lifting his hand, kissing his knuckles tenderly. “So… please?”

Jake chuckles dryly. He hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you firmer against him. You hum contentedly against his lips. To your surprise, your little request was more than enough. He grinds his hips upwards and nudges your underwear to the side in one movement.

His fingers press against your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles. He pulls back and watches your body react to his touch as he builds the pressure. Your eyes flit shut, lips parting, a string of soft moans slipping out into the evening air. Jake’s index finger trails downwards to tease at your entrance.

This is increasingly becoming his favourite feeling, having you trembling at his fingertips, moaning his name. Knowing that you’d do just about anything to keep feeling the way he makes you feel.

All other words suddenly slipping your mind, you’re left with one, repeating it again and again as you grind against his touch, “Please.”

Jake sinks two fingers into you at once, curling his fingers into that spongy spot that has you jolting, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage.

His fingers stretch you open, fucking into you, his eyes on your face. Leaning forwards, whimpering into his jaw, you’re quick to realise that if you angle yourself just right, you can grind your clit onto the base of his palm. Jake takes his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you use his hand to bring yourself closer and closer. “Please.”

Jake nudges you back once more, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the column of your throat, trailing wet kisses along your skin to distract from the fact that his hand is withdrawing from your underwear. “Not yet, honey. Stand up for me.”

“Jake…” You whine in complaint, curling your fingers into the fabric of his shirt to keep him with you. He lifts his chin, those sharp green eyes locking in on yours. He raises his eyebrows at you. It’s a clear indication to stop whining or he won’t give you what you want.

“I said: stand up. Walk over there.” His fingers squeeze into the flesh of your thighs, shooting a quick glance down at his hands on your skin before he’s looking at you again. Expectant. Impatient. Completely in control.

You push up and off of his lap, feeling unsteady on your feet. Legs trembling with excitement and need, you walk over to the railing like he told you. Your fingers curl around the cool edge of the balcony.

“Take ‘em off.” Jake instructs calmly.

Your lips warm slightly, taking in a deep breath as you hook your thumbs into the side of the underwear. Jake takes his lip between his teeth, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches you bend over slightly and slide the blue thong down your legs. You turn back towards him, swallowing softly as he rises from the couch and crosses towards you.

He lifts his hand and strokes back a strand of hair from your face, then leans in and kisses you softly, a fraction of his weight sandwiching you between his toned chest and the railing behind you.

“The plus side is that you’re gonna look so pretty in those paparazzi pictures, honey.” Jake teases, sliding his hands down over the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh in his palms and grinding himself against you. You scoff and push at his chest, rolling your eyes.

Jake hums into the curve of your neck, peppering kisses over every inch of exposed skin that he can reach. He lowers his head, peppering kisses across your bare stomach, then up, fingers pressing into your hips as he nips at the soft skin of your breasts. He bunches the fabric in his palm and lowers himself to his knees, pressing his mouth to your navel. You push your fingers into his hair as he’s finally right where you need him.

He guides your thigh over his shoulder, wasting no time in getting to work. You whine in relief as his finally tongue grazes at your folds, feeling you squirm before him. Jake groans softly, he’ll never get tired of how worked up you get for him. Curling your fingers into his blonde hair, you gasp softly as his lips around your clit. “Fuck, Jake.”

The groan that slips his lips sends shocks through you, stomach tightening, legs trembling. His fingers curl tighter around your hip as his free hand nudges between your legs. He sinks his middle and index finger into you at once, curling them expertly until you’re whining his name, trembling against his touch.

The wet muscle of his tongue dips inside of you, replacing his fingers just briefly, his nose brushing against your clit as he drags it slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traces the tip of his tongue around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go. Jake groans out as you tug at his roots, head thrown back as your orgasm rips through you.

Jake feels your knees buckle, standing up and tugging you forwards, steadying you against him. You whimper, resting your forehead against his shoulder as he kisses your temple. His movements are tender as he trails his fingertips along your spine.

You curl your fingers around the leather of his belt and tug softly. Jake glances down, watching your shaking hands work amusedly. Belt opened, your fingers work at the button on his jeans, you’re trembling and it takes some willpower to have your hands comply. You manage to pop the button open, dragging the zipper down and pushing at the waistband of his boxers and jeans together.

Jake catches your wrists and bundles them together. “Turn around, bend over.”

You almost moan then and there. Swallowing softly, you take your lip between your teeth and turn, bracing your elbows on the ledge. Jake kicks your ankles further apart and tugs his shirt over his head, grabbing your hip with one hand. Jake revels in the desperate sound you make as he drags his cock between your folds, his lip between his teeth as he watches the tip sink into you. You whimper, gasping as he pushes himself into you in one swift movement, pulling your hips back against his.

Jake presses his free hand into the small of your back, bending you down further so that he can drive himself deeper into you. He leaves open-mouthed kisses across the backs of your shoulders, making up for the fact that he’s painfully hard and not really planning on giving you time to adjust. Not after your little request.

He catches the back of your neck and pushes down until your cheek is pressed to the concrete. The breath is knocked from you as he pounds into you, you’re a whimpering mess, face pressed into the crook of your arm and his hand on the back of your neck keeping you there.

“That feel good, honey?” Jake murmurs, his gentle tone a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking you. You moan out, nodding your head feverishly. “My dirty girl, out here where everyone can see you like a little slut.”

Your voice cracks as you whimper desperately, pushing back against him. Jake grunts, leaning forward and pressing filthy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your back. You push your hips back against him again, rocking yourself slightly for more friction. Jake grins, he leans back slightly and releases your arms, giving you the leverage to fuck yourself on his cock like you need to.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he looks down between your body and his, groaning. He swallows hard, pressing one hand to the ledge beside you to steady himself. He watches as you push yourself back onto him desperately for a moment before he has to close his eyes and grip your hips to still you. Breathing hard, he inhales slowly and tightens his grip on the swell of your hips.

Your eyes practically roll back as he rocks forwards again, grunting as he pounds into you. He slides one hand around to your front, curling it around the sides of your throat. You pant out, gasping for air, completely at his mercy. The pleasure comes burning through you. If you could, you’d be gasping for air. The lack of oxygen is dizzying, Jake’s the only thing keeping you steady.

His fingers curl tighter around your throat as he ruts himself into you, managing a few more thrusts — sending aftershocks through your already sensitive body before he’s spilling over the edge himself, pulling you tight against him. You both take a moment to come back down, slowing your breathing until your feet feel steady enough to hold you again.

Jake groans softly as he slips out of you and tucks himself back into his jeans. He smooths out your babydoll and spins you to face him, tucking an arm around your waist.

“Shit, you’re good at that.” You mumble, draping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Jake chuckles breathily, kissing your temple.

“Are we done being wild for tonight, honey? — You feel like taking a shower and heading to bed?” He murmurs, smoothing his hands over your hair. You pull yourself closer to him, closing your eyes and humming against his skin, nodding tiredly. He swats at your ass and turns you, nudging you towards the door. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

It’s already late and it’s been a long day. You shower quickly under the warm water, Jake taking care of the soap duties for no reason other than to have his hands on you again. By the time your head hits the pillow, you’re more awake than you were expecting to be.

“Are you excited to go to the bar tomorrow?”

“Honey, sleep.” Jake groans, half-amusedly as he lifts an arm and drapes it over his eyes. You turn over onto your back and stare at the ceiling, exhaling softly.

“I’m excited.” You decide, smiling softly at the idea. It’s nice, being included on the personal details of Jake’s life, being someone that he can share things with.

He lifts his arm and peeks one eye open, lips quirking as he finds you smiling at the ceiling in anticipation of the day ahead. “You’re cute.”

You turn your head and grin, shuffling closer to him. Jake tucks his arms around you and rests his cheek to the top of your head as you nudge on of your thighs between his. You kiss his toned shoulder tenderly, hugging yourself close against him. “Night, Jake.”

“G’night, honey. I love you.”

…

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @the-mouse27 @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream

#jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin au #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #operation apollo

[waywardsummoner46]

Hiya!! I just started watching peaky blinders like a month ago and I can’t get enough of the family vibe the Shelby clan has going on 🥺 could I please request (only if you’re comfortable) for yandere platonic tommy Shelby with Finn’s s/o? Like, he’s a bit too invested in their relationship and would do almost anything to see them as Finn’s wife?

Thank you so much and you’re a fantastic writer!

Unknown To You

Pairing: Platonic!Yandere!Tommy Shelby x Reader, Finn x Reader

Word Count: 1386

______________________________________________________________

1926 was your year.

Independence was what you'd always dreamed of having been controlled and restricted by your parents even for the simplest of things like a lovely stroll around the neighbourhood once in a while. It got to a point that, once you'd turned eighteen earlier this year, you ran away and caught a train to somewhere new, somewhere magical.

There are many words to describe Birmingham... magical would never be one of them.

The industrial aspect was almost all of its aspects, along with bars and smoke; however, Birmingham was hiding something more dangerous you could ever imagine.

The Peaky Blinders.

Safe to say, if the rumours didn't caution you (they did that and beyond) the actual sight of them would have you shitting your pants. Something along those lines had happened to you - the lack of bowel control was, thankfully, absent.

Only a few weeks had passed since you ran away and you were thriving. You'd lied slightly about your age and had secured a job at The Garrison, despite knowing that the Peaky Blinders literally own it. The danger of the situation gave you a thrill and you genuinely don't know how you secured the job without it going past one of them first.

For you so far, it was an average day. The regulars came and wasted money on alcohol that would eventually render them completely incapacitated. Coin was spent, you enjoyed the odd drink and ignored the perverted stares of some of the older men. All in all, it was a pretty smooth day. Until...

Indistinguishable shouts came from just beyond the doors and you paused your cleaning of the bar. What was going on? People around you were tensing and pointedly not looking at the door. What was going on?

The doors crashed open and in came the most feared men in all of England: The Peaky Blinders. Seeing them was, simultaneously, overwhelming and underwhelming. They were just men but they had undoubtedly killed thousands of people - the leader especially, one Tommy Shelby. Cruel, cruel man that he was. And, oh God, you worked for him.

You literally worked for the Peaky Blinders. Were you a gang member? Do you have to kill someone? Would they kill you if you didn't? What would happen if-

A fist hitting the table broke you from your train of thought. You raised your head a bit too quickly to be natural and probably looked a bit frantic.

To your surprise, it was only a boy about your age. Quite a handsome one too. He looked happy, a residue joy of something. Your tension eased slightly. "How can I help?"

He didn't answer for a while, only gazing into your eyes. It took you a while to realise you were doing the same.

Both of you snapped out of whatever daze you were in at the same time and you cleared your throat out of nervousness.

"I haven't seen you before, are you new?" He asked, the Brummy accent catching you off guard even though you were evidently in Birmingham.

Smiling slightly, you looked back at him. "I moved here a few weeks ago. I'm (Y/N)." Sticking your hand out, he took it and heat flooded your cheeks when he pressed a light kiss to it.

"Finn. Finn Shelby."

  And thus, love was born.

  Whatever you were getting yourself into, you knew it was about to be one hell of a ride.

You both chatted away for seemingly hours after that; both oblivious to the icy blue eyes watching you both avidly from the corner booth.

  Months had passed since you and Finn had first met. Now in a happy relationship, you felt like nothing could go wrong. Hell, you’d even ensured a half decent friendship with Tommy fucking Shelby! Something hardly anyone had ever managed to do.

  Although life was great and Finn’s family gradually became your own and vice versa, something about Tommy always made your brows furrow. There was a reason your friendship never ascended from half-decent. 

  He was so secretive, so observant and with such a glaringly obvious superiority complex.

  There was never a time when he didn’t look like he was plotting something.

  And it scared you.

  Especially after you’d caught wind that your parents were looking for you. Your family wasn’t necessarily a gang per se; they just had power and influence, a lot of it. It was this that motivated you to leave just as much as it was the suffocating rules. You’d gone from one lowly gang to England’s most dangerous, your luck was simply incredible.

  Finn made it better, though. He loved you unconditionally and you loved him to the same extent. His family was always so supportive, especially Tommy and you saw how Finn thrived off of their approval. Warm appreciation filled you when you heard their kind words.

  Together you’d all, you and The Shelby Clan, been off for a stroll, when a group of people rounded the far corner of the street. Initially, you thought nothing of it, passing them off as partaking in an activity similar to yours, but when you heard the shouts of your parents you knew now was the time to run.

  Grip tightening on Finn’s hand, you tried to pull him away without causing much of a spectacle but, of course, he and his entire family had noticed your distress and its cause. 

  “Finn, we need to go.”

  It was Tommy who answered, to your surprise. “We’re not leaving until they understand you aren’t going back. You’re a Shelby, (Y/N). We don’t abandon our own.”

  Stunned, you gaped and eventually gave him a shaky smile. He didn’t return it.

  Tommy and Arthur met your parents halfway. The four of them spoke quietly amongst themselves, to anyone who was passing by it looked like a friendly conversation. You were on edge at how smoothly it seemed to be going. Your parents were stubborn and would not tolerate any resistance, even from the feared Peaky Blinders.

  The oldest of the Shelby Family returned to your group, looking deceptively calm. Polly asked them what was said quietly and you noted how she tensed and glanced back at you and Finn.

  “What’s going on, Tommy?” Finn asked, breaking the tense silence.

  He looked at Finn with something akin to regret or... pity? Why was he so difficult to read? “Finn... (Y/N)’s parents won’t leave until they have her. Without starting a fight that we’re outnumbered in, there’s only one option I can think of to get them to leave.”

  Once it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate without further demand, you spoke desperately. “Well? What is it? I’ll do anything.”

  He looked between you both and heaved a heavy sigh. 

  “The only option, then, would be... marriage.” Your jaw dropped but he continued, nonetheless. “You would be an official member of the Peaky Blinders and with that, if they attacked you or harmed you in any way, they’d have also attacked the Peaky Blinders and then it would be us against them.”

  His point was valid enough and you weren’t completely against it by any means. In fact... “I’ll do it. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now.” You turned to Finn and took both of his hands. “Finn, I love you with all my heart and I’d be honoured to be your wife if you’ll have me.”

  He chuckled and you were momentarily offended, thinking you’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. When he got down onto one knee, however, did you realise he’d been wanting this just as much as you.

  “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), my love, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Teary-eyed, you could do nothing apart from hug him tightly and kiss him hardly on the lips.

  “Yes, yes, a million times yes!”

  Unknown to you, your family had been tipped off to know you would be walking on that street that day. They didn’t know by who, no one did. 

  Unknown to you, the same man who had tipped them off had also given Finn the idea to propose today. 

  Unknown to you, Tommy Shelby now watched you two with a twisted sense of satisfaction and finally let the tension ease from his shoulders.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby x reader #yandere!tommy shelby x reader #finn shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ 1,862 days !

pairing: yeonjun x reader summary: being able to love yeonjun, and the road that lead you to him word count: 1.3k extra: happy five years to our oldest member!! 4th gen it boy yeonjun!! apart of my anniversary series!

yeonjun was like a breath of fresh air, a saving grace. moving to korea at eighteen was rough, but running into the boy on the streets suddenly made it all worth it. you had bumped into him early in the spring - you were still bundled up in a jacket wandering aimlessly around seoul. instead of finding your friend at the coffee shop she had promised to wait for you in, you quite literally ran into yeonjun.

'excuse me, can you help me?' you pleaded through broken korean, and he laughed slightly, understanding the gist of what you were asking him.

needless to say, he gave you directions, even walked you to the shop and sat down with you after you realised your friend had set out on her own to find you. he even went a step above the rest and walked you back to your apartment after learning just how new to the area you were.

the rest was (basically) history. all it took was one day for him to ask you out, and those dates quickly turned into weekends tucked away from the rest of the world hiding out in your apartment. your roommate was rarely home - she worked odd hours and had her own girlfriend to visit.

before you knew it, five months by yeonjun's side became five years.

"all i'm saying," you began, your boyfriend humming mindlessly on the couch as he half watched tv, half played on his phone. "is we should go out for our anniversary."

yeonjun nodded absentmindedly, your words not truly sinking in. "yeah, yeah." he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone. kai had got him hooked on some two player game, and now the duo were both constantly on their phones, fighting monsters or something.

"it's too bad taehyun asked me out too." you giggled, leaning over the couch to watch his reaction.

nothing.

"i mean, is it bad i said yes? we don't technically have plans, so it's not a big deal."

he didn't even acknowledge your presence.

"but i felt bad, because i had to turn down wooyoung, and dino, and changbin - yeonjun could you at least blink to let me know you're not some zombie?" you groaned, moving around the sofa to sit next to him.

now it was his turn to laugh and he wrapped his arm around you, his phone discarded next to him. "i was listening," he teased, eyes glistening with mischief as he smiled, clearly proud of himself. "i just wanted to see how ridiculous you'd get."

you chose to ignore his statement, moving past the ordeal. it was sort of childish. "so, dinner? tomorrow night?" you posed, moving to sit on your knees. it was almost as if you were ready to beg. anniversaries meant a lot to you - especially as this one marked five years since moving to korea.

it was hard, leaving your life behind. but, you had to. and things had worked out. really well.

"i've got practice. why don't we go out tonight? today marks five years of us meeting." he offered, frowning when he noticed just how disappointed you were.

"yeah, sure." you smiled, pushing yourself up off the couch. "i was hoping you'd be able to get off work tomorrow, but i get it. i promise i do."

he nodded, sighing. "have you talked to your parents recently?" the question caught you off guard - no matter how good or bad of a relationship you had with your parents, calling them rarely crossed your mind. when was the last time you spoke to either of them?

"no," you huffed, though more out of annoyance with yourself than with him. if you were to call them, they would chew you out for ghosting them. but life was busy, and the time difference did not help. "they weren't the biggest fans of me moving out here, you know."

his eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted slightly to the side, "they weren't? but - when i met them a bit back, they seemed so happy for you."

you tried to suppress the growing grin on your face at the idea. "my parents were so far from happy for me, jjunie. they just didn't want to upset either of us."

he nodded slowly, letting the information seep in. "well, that's too bad. i hoped to talk to them. but i guess i could see how they probably weren't the biggest fans of their eighteen year old deciding to just move out and into a foreign city."

"why would you want to talk to my parents?" you snorted, the idea so completely absurd it didn't even seem real. "didn't you say something along the lines of, 'i'm sorry you're related.' when you met them?"

he shrugged, clearly unable to form the proper sentence. you took his silence as a cue to leave and get ready for dinner. by the time you were done he'd probably have made a reservation somewhere, or called some sort of favour in. perks of being famous.

and of course, by the time you emerged from your bedroom, grabbing a hold of your wallet from your dresser, yeonjun himself was already waiting for you by the door, holding your shoes in his hands.

"took you long enough." he smiled, though you could see the faint spread of pink across his cheeks. he was never good at hiding the fact that he was blushing. over the years he had learn't you were simply too good at spotting it, and accepted the fact that you thought it was cute.

"so where are we going out tonight, mr. choi?" you grinned, slipping your shoes on and interlocking your arm with his as you made your way out the front door. sometimes having a first floor apartment was a blessing.

"it's a surprise." was all he said, and you understood that his words truly meant surprise. as in, he was not going to be telling you. but still, you quickly recognised the change of scenery. something about it was familiar.

you were close to your first apartment - the one you lived in when you met yeonjun. you could see the park you spent many afternoons together in. and up in the distance you could faintly see the coffee shop you went to when you first met yeonjun.

and it all made sense.

"coffee for dinner? don't you have practice tomorrow?" you questioned, nudging his shoulder with your own.

he nodded, taking a moment to look at you.

it felt like his breath had been knocked straight out of him.

you were everything to him.

"you know what?" he smiled, pausing.

"hm?" you hummed, stopping just a few feet in front of him. "what is it?"

"i've been in love with you for five years." you felt your heart stop in your chest. "i've spent these last five years doing what i love, while getting to be with the person i love. you don't know how crazily lucky i feel just waking up next to you."

he began to lower himself to the ground.

now it was your turn to have the breath knocked out of you. "jjunie?"

"it would be a lie to say these past five years have been easy, but hey, i love you. so they've all been worth it." he was pulling something out of his pocket.

a ring.

he didn't even need to ask the question for you to begin to tear up (i would.), your answer already so clear to him. "you don't need to even say yes, just let me know i'll be able to love you for et-"

"yes." you smiled, rushing quickly to pull him into a hug. "i've been in love with you since i met you, jjunie. and i plan on loving you for the rest of my life. the past 1,862 days have meant the world to me."

"not like anyones counting or anything." he teased, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

yeah, moving to korea at eighteen was worth it.

a/n: i've never??? written??? a marriage??? proposal???? ive never???? witnessed???? true love????

©2024 - all rights reserved to hueningsloverr, please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

#choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #huening kai #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #choi soobin #txt soobin #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #taehyun x reader #txt taehyun #taehyun #txt huening kai #huening kai x reader #x reader #txt #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together x reader #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #hueningsloverr #౨ৎ txt anniversary series

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Dimitri Alexendre Blaiddyd

PLEASE NOTE: THE MOD OF THIS TOURNAMENT HATES THIS PROPAGANDA! THEY BELIEVE THAT IT'S ACTIVELY LYING ABOUT THE CHARACTER AND COMING FROM A PLACE OF HATE FOR SAID CHARACTER INSTEAD OF THE FANDOM CULTURE SURROUNDING HIM. You have been warned

Why is this man so woobified. The literal whole point of him is that he's meant to be a bait and switch for the typical perfect fire emblem lord hero. He's a sadistic killer without a hint of mercy for a huge part of the story, he works with the dictator church without considering whether or not there's something wrong with it, and his route ends in him being just as much of an imperialist as the others (taking over the whole continent and being crowned its ruler), just by a different name. He's SO interesting and SO conflicted and yet it feels like 99% of the fandom can't look past "uwu emo sad boy :((( so damaged :((((" and completely disregards that he's just as brutal as the other main characters from any other route's perspective, that's the whole point of the game!

Yuno Kashiki

Yuno Kashiki is an 18 year old rental girlfriend and sexworker in Japan. She was incarcerated in Milgram for murder at the start of the series in 2020. Since then she has been repeatedly dehumanized by the fandom. Having her agency and statements on her own life overwhelmingly ignored in order to give her a sob story she has consistently rebuked at every turn. Stating from the beginning even if she had to beg for forgiveness like her life depended on it she would. However, it's simply been handed to her as the audience continually goes she was too young and stupid to actually be held accountable for her actions. The same audience that later tries to vote a 12 year old child abuse victim guilty because she has to learn her lesson and she knew what she was doing. Yes the fandom interprets the eighteen year old who chose to work in the profession they did simply because they wanted to something they have no qualms admitting as having less agency than the twelve year old. They treat her like a stupid baby who's only error was not knowing how a condom worked as a sexworker. They say her only crime is an abortion despite her overtly getting upset at other individuals alluded to be clients throughout her songs. Having the literal lyrics of her second song go, ""Poor naive little girl"? So off the mark, what's it to you? It's absurd. Like really who do you think you are? Don't weigh me meassure me against your morality. Just shut it, will you? You know it all." And "Carrssing me with your "good girl". Who needs your self-righteous pardon?" They're so committed to the abortion equating to the murder she's in here for idea that fans got mad at the writer for even writing it that way when at least several other very not fetuses are alluded to throughout her songs and at points literally shown. Her first song even highlighting her clients belongings throughout it with inverted coloring. But instead of thinking she may have just killed a client who was bothering her they've convinced themselves that she's just a silly little outlier who's not meant to be here because abortion isn't murder her body her choice which fair if it wasn't for the fact the only people putting it on the table to compare to murder is the audience themselves. Despite everyone else in here very literally killing actual people with lives, professions, etc as they frame her case as a feminism issue and say if you vote her guilty you just hate women or are anti-abortion. In response to the framing of her situation as she can hear the audiences thoughts on her she's only gotten more depressed and closed off as tge series has progressed blatantly stating to hurry all this up so she can go home. Because it doesn't matter what she says about her situation the audience and the guard by proxy will just end up creating whatever story they want about her so it doesn't matter she's over it. Which in all honesty fucking fair- Wouldn't anyone be after getting treated like that for going on four years.

She's far more morally grey than folks want to admit. She's not evil, not by a long shot, but she's not exactly innocent either. She's innocent of her (perceived) crime in her media, but in terms of her attitude and outlook on life, I feel people downplay her incredibly grey actions. She uses / used compensated dating as a way to feel "warm" without forming emotional attachments. She hasn't killed anyone, nor has she manipulated anyone into killing for her, but that's why she's a good representative of a more everyday morally grey person. Her actions aren't outlandish or extreme, and if anything she can fade into the background with relative ease, yet I still firmly believe she's morally grey. tldr; Yuno has far more depth than the (general) fandom sees her as having. She gets misrepresented and her voice as a character is often unheard.

#misrepresented morally grey #bracket a #did nothing wrong bracket #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #milgram #milgram project #yuno kashiki #kashiki yuno #edit: i hate the dimitri propaganda and am so glad everyone else does too

[616wilsons]

call it what you want

PAIRING stewy hosseini x roy!reader

PROMPT “why are you ignoring me?”

SUMMARY whenever stewy is at the office, he always stops by to say hello. but recently he has been walking right past you without saying a word. you’ve had enough.

TAGS @chaithetics @lukas-matsson @violentdelightsandviolentends

WARNINGS brief mention of drugs, fluff

WORD COUNT 3.1k

NOTES my first time ever writing an actual one shot! please go easy on me lol. if you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know! enjoy my loves 🩷

While you were the youngest Roy sibling, you still had an important role at Waystar Royco. You went into the office every day just like your brothers, Kendall and Roman. Your father had been grooming the three of you to be in the business for as long as you can remember. You were always more interested in the family business than your sister so you, Kendall, and Roman were the ones who were always in the office. You did a lot of what they did, go to board meetings, meet with investors and board members, organize offers on your father’s behalf, et cetera. Most of the board members would rather deal with you than your brothers and you took that seriously. So, when Stewy Hosseini suddenly ended up on Waystar’s board, your job got even more complicated.

You had known Stewy as long as he had known Kendall. They met in their first year of college, but you only met him in person when you were eighteen and they were twenty-three. As soon as you met him you were enamored. Not only was he one of the most attractive people you had ever seen, but he was also passionate and motivated, which were traits you looked for in relationships. You became good friends over the years, you knew he was always in your corner and vice versa. You crushed on him from afar, planning on never letting anyone know of your feelings. One, he was older than you, and two, he was Kendall’s best friend. He could only ever see you as Ken’s baby sister… right?

Fast forward to the present, Stewy was in the office more and more. You saw each other if there was a board meeting and always found time to talk. If he was visiting Ken, he would always stop by your office or find out where you were just to say hi. Always. Even if he just saw you the day before. He would end up staying for at least an hour because you both get caught up talking to one another. You always had great conversations with each other even if you didn’t always have similar interests. One day he was walking around with Roman at the office. To get to Roman’s office, they would have to pass yours. You saw them coming and anticipated Stewy, at least, smiling or waving. They just walked right past and entered Roman’s office. He’ll probably stop by after, you think and resume your work. After a while you heard him leave Roman’s office and you smiled to yourself, thinking he would stop in. He did not. He walked out of Roman’s office and walked directly to the elevators, intent on leaving. You frowned to yourself. Did he not see you? Or is he just busy? There is a board meeting tomorrow so you could talk then.

Stewy walked into the meeting right as they were about to start, so you didn’t get to talk beforehand. You tend to linger after the meetings anyway in case any of the members need you for something. At the end of the meeting, Frank did pull you aside to mention something. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Stewy leaving the meeting room. Sometimes he’ll leave and just go wait in your office, so you assume that’s what he’s doing now. You smile to yourself and then turn back to Frank. When you’re finished with your conversation, you head back to your office. You start racking your brain for things you have been meaning to tell him with a smile growing on your face only to walk past your office and find it empty. You halt and look around quizzically. You stop by your assistant’s desk, which is right outside your office, and ask her if anybody stopped by.

“Uh no, not just now,” she answers.

“Oh,” you reply. “Really?”

“Uh huh… Is everything okay? Are you looking for someone?” she asks as you look around the office.

“Uh… no. No, everything’s fine,” you flash her your signature “all good” smile and scurry on back to your office, leaving your assistant confused. She is used to your frantic-ness, so she watches you enter your office and then resumes her work. You plop down on the couch in your office with a sigh. Two days in a row? Is he really THAT busy? No way. Is he avoiding me? What did I do? You shake yourself out of your thoughts because you have work to do. You decide to wait it out and see what happens within the week.

He had been to the office twice more during that week and avoided you completely. You were fed up. What the hell did I do? Why is he being such a dick? You call him on Friday evening, and he doesn’t pick up. No way he is THAT busy. Fucking ass. Fine, if he wants to play that game, I can play that game! You in fact did not want to play that game but he started it. Yes, you’re aware that is childish, but your anger is blinding you and you’re feeling petty. The weekend passes and nothing else happens. There’s a board meeting on Monday and you decide to confront him afterwards. You were going to force him to talk to you afterwards. He can’t avoid you forever, right?

Though he can try. Once again, he timed his entrance to the meeting so he wouldn’t have to speak to anyone beforehand. He sits down silently, across the wide table from you, like always. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t look at you. At least not until you’ve scoffed under your breath and turned away from him. You don’t notice his eyes on you amidst your frustration towards him. You focus on Frank and Gerri and their agenda for today’s meeting. You even take notes while Stewy, unbeknownst to you, watches you. More like admires you, really. He’s in awe of you. He is sometimes perplexed on how a person like you can exist in a world as fucked up as yours. He knows it’s changed him, but it never seems to affect you. It overwhelms him, especially since he’s been seeing you in person regularly. Whenever there were stints of time in between your interactions, he could push the thoughts back, pretend they aren’t there. But as your encounters have become more frequent, so have his thoughts about you. He always thought of you, ever since you met. He would read a book or watch a movie and think she would like that, or she would hate that. He keeps a mental checklist of things he knows you like and whenever he sees anything pertaining to that thing, he thinks of you and smiles. He used to think that was special to your friendship. He didn’t have many female friends before you, so he had never experienced this before. It took him a while to realize that people don’t think about their friends that way. He doesn’t want to think of these feelings right now out of fear it’ll overwhelm him. He’s afraid to even open his mouth around you and have everything spew out. So, he avoids you. He knows it’s not right or smart but it’s the only thing he can think of doing right now without ruining everything. As soon as the meeting is adjourned, he’s out of his chair and heading for the door. You immediately move to follow him, ignoring the looks from Frank and the others as you do. You try to catch up to him as quickly and quietly as you can. When you finally catch up to him, you grab him by the arm and pull him into your office without saying a word.

“What the hell?” He turns to look at you. You don’t bother to answer and instead launch into the rant you had been practicing all morning.

“Did you get a new phone number?” You ask innocently.

“No?” He replies, confused as to why you’re asking.

“And your phone is working?” You continue.

“Yes...”

“And you’ve seen me in my office, right? You’re not going blind?”

“No, I am not going blind,” he sighs.

“Is anyone dying?”

“No, why the hell are you asking me-”

“So, you don’t have any good reason to be avoiding me then?” You finish. He doesn’t reply. You raise your eyebrows as if to say well?

“I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Save it, Hosseini,” you cut him off immediately. You were tired of playing this game. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“No, why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been wracking my brain and I can’t think of anything. What the hell is going on? You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks without a good reason? Seriously? What the fuck?!” You’re starting to get frustrated at this point. You told yourself you would try to remain calm but when he’s looking at you like you're crazy, it’s a bit off-putting. He still hasn’t given you much of a response. You throw your hands in the air and turn away from him. He sighs and puts his hands on his hips.

“You want to know the truth?” he asks softly, causing you to face him again. You nod your head. Another sign comes from him, and he looks at the floor. “Because you drive me fucking insane,” he laughs under his breath. At first, you're not sure you heard him correctly.

“What?” You have never been more confused. “I don’t... What are you talking about, what did I do?”

“It’s not anything you did,” he says, eyes still on the ground. “It’s just you.”

Your forehead creases in confusion. “Okay... Then what-”

“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret,” he exhales. He’s looking at you now, almost sad. You don’t understand.

“Like what? What could you possibly say to me that could be so bad?” You’re exasperated. “You just said I drive you fucking nuts, what am I supposed to fucking do with that?!” You’re shaking your head and starting to pace. He’s upset you; he worded things wrong. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says, pointing between the two of you.

You turn to face him and breathe out a laugh, “You were doing just fine a week ago!” You stop pacing and look him dead in the eyes. “What the hell changed?”

“Nothing!” he says. He’s exasperated, too. “I just…”

He looks at you, trying to figure out how to word the next part. What he says now will affect your relationship from now on. There’s no going back.

“I don’t know how else to say it so I’m just going to... say it...” he begins. He takes a deep breath and briefly closes his eyes.

“Do you remember when we met?” he asks. You blink a few times, what does that have to do with-

“Yes,” you reply.

“I saw you in the house before Kendall told me who you were. I thought you were beautiful. I mean I still do but... that first time I saw you? I was head over heels already. And then I found out who you were and immediately shut those feelings down. Ken’s baby sister? No way, he would kill me, your dad would kill me, it couldn’t happen. But then I got to know you... and God I was fucking...” he lets out a deep breath.

“You have no idea the effect you have on people, Y/N. How important you are to people. To me.”

A beat passes.

“You’re important to me, too,” you whisper. He smiles and closes his eyes, that thing he does when he genuinely takes what you’re saying to heart. He knows that but it’s still nice to hear.

You’re afraid he’s going to end the conversation there. You take a step towards him and gently say his name, “Stewy-”

Before you can even think of something else to say, he says, “I’m in love with you.”

Now it’s your turn to take a deep breath. He takes that as a sign to continue. “I should have told you sooner but I... I didn’t realize what I was feeling, but I know now. It’s love. I love you, Y/N. I think I always have. You don’t have to say anything or feel the same way, but I owed you an explanation. And an apology. I’m so sorry for everything, especially for making you feel like you did something wrong. You didn’t, you’re... You’re perfect. I’m the asshole.”

When he’s finished, you stare at him for a bit with your mouth open. You then start to shake your head in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot,” you finally say.

“Probably,” he replies. “For what?”

You take a deep breath.

“I have loved you since the minute I laid eyes on you,” you tell him. His stance shifts and he is trying to process what you’re saying. “I just kept it to myself because I always assumed you only saw me as Ken’s annoying little sister.”

“Well, no, that’s Shiv,” he says causing you to laugh. Your laugh makes him smile. “But don’t tell her I said that because she's scarier than you.” You laugh harder.

“God are we really this stupid?” he asks while laughing.

“Speak for yourself, I know what I feel,” you reply. He’s smiling at you and begins to nod.

“You’re right. I’m an idiot.”

You smile at him. “Yeah, well...”

He’s shaking his head in disbelief. “Wait do you really... I mean is this... real? Is this really happening?”

“What did you think would happen?” you ask him.

“Honestly?” You nod. “I thought you would slap me and tell me to fuck off.” That pulls another laugh from you. Eventually he joins in.

“This is real,” you say. “At least, it is for me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. And believe me, I have tried.”

He smiles, “I know. Me either. I mean, you’re it for me. I think I’ve always known that, but I just hadn't accepted it until recently.”

You nod. He takes a step closer to you and takes one of your hands in his. “So... what now?”

“We should probably talk about what all this means, at some point.” He nods in agreement and takes your other hand. “Um, we’ll have to decide if we want people to know... Because that could be tricky business wise. And we’ll have to tell Kendall and my dad, at some point. I don’t think they’re going to be happy but, whatever. We’ll have to inform the board, Sandy, and Sandi, talk to HR-”

“Y/N?” he stops you.

“Hmm?”

“You’re overthinking again.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it is one of the many things I love about you.” He’s practically beaming as he says this which causes you in turn to beam at him. You move closer so his hands are on your waist and yours are on his shoulders. You look at him.

“Say it again,” you whisper. “Please?”

He doesn’t even need to ask what you mean. He tightens his hold on you and looks into your eyes.

“I love you.”

Your face hurts from smiling. He smiles back at you.

“I love you, too,” you tell him, and he breaks out the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

You’re both still beaming at each other when he gently rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath.

After a beat he asks, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you tell him, and he tips his head back to laugh. He looks at you and brings a hand to cup your cheek. He searches your eyes for any hesitation and slowly leans in. He gently presses his lips to yours and somehow, it’s even better than either of you had ever imagined. After a moment you break apart and you giggle. He smiles and moves back in to kiss you, his hand firmer on your face. You both can’t stop smiling. You keep the kiss relatively short and tame. When you break apart again, he has your face in both hands and your arms are under his.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight so we can talk?” he asks you.

Before he can even finish the question, you are saying yes.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I would love that,” you tell him.

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Perfect.”

“Good,” he’s smiling and leaning back in to kiss you when there is suddenly a knock on the door causing you both to freeze. You can’t see who it is from your position, so you untangle yourself from Stewy and go over to open the door. He sighs as your warmth leaves him. You open the door to your brother, Roman, looking a little pissed. You open the door just wide enough to where he can’t see Stewy in your office.

“Oh, hey Rome, what’s-”

“It’s noon,” he says cutting you off.

“Okay...”

He widens his eyes and then it hits you, you were supposed to meet your brothers for lunch at noon.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see the time,” you tell him.

“Are you still coming or what cause I will go without you if I have to,” he says, talking one hundred miles a minute.

“Uh,” you quickly look back at Stewy to gauge his reaction. He is shaking his head no. You turn back to your brother, “Actually, can we rain check? I accidentally double booked my lunch today and-”

Roman waves you off, “Yeah, yeah, fine, whatever. Oh, have you seen Hosseini around?”

“Uh not since the meeting,” you lie, which you’re not very good at. You’re grateful it’s Rome asking you and not Kendall because he could read you like a book. Rome would rather use his energy elsewhere, like kissing up to dad.

“Okay, let me know if you see him,” Rome adds. “I wanted to ask him if he knows any coke dealers in Prague.” And with that, he turned around and left. You are trying to process what your brother just said about cocaine when you feel the door being pushed closed from behind you. Stewy pressed a hand above your head on the door to close it. You turn to face him, and he has a devilish grin on his face. His free hand snakes around your waist and he asks, “Now, where were we?” before sealing his lips to yours again.

#succession #stewy hosseini #arian moayed #fanfic #new fanfic writer #succession season 4 #stewy hosseini x roy reader #stewy hosseini x reader #succession fanfic #hbo series

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 7/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Seven: Seaside

Barbara went out as Batgirl shortly after dinner, leaving Jason home alone to wait for Jim. As the night progressed, Jason lay on the couch watching tv. He wanted to be awake when Jim returned. It reminded him of how Jason often waited for his parents to come home, and that's what worried him most. As hard as he tried to stay awake for Jim's return, he couldn't keep his eyes open past two in the morning.

Jim dragged his feet as he entered the house around three in the morning. His body and mind were weary as he hung his coat up and kicked his shoes off. He turned the tv off and smiled at Jason, who lay curled up on the couch, holding one of the throw pillows to his chest. Jim picked Jason up and held him for a moment before taking Jason to his room to tuck him into bed. Jason took hold of Jim's wrist and mumbled, "Don't go... Please don't go." His voice was broken. Jim pushed Jason's hair back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here... We might have to go get ice cream in the morning, though," Jim whispered as he sat down on the floor by Jason's bedside. Jason turned on his stomach, facing Jim, and he opened his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked. Jim took a deep breath.

"Mind if I tell you what happened and why I was gone so long?" Jim asked. Jason nodded.

Jim talked about his work with Batman and how many bombs they had to defuse around the city, and Jason stopped him. "But are you okay?" Jason asked. Jim paused, and his shoulders dropped.

"I'm exhausted, and I feel bad for how I left you earlier... I want you to know that I would've come home hours ago if I could've. I don't want you to think I abandoned you," Jim whispered.

"You were working," Jason yawned.

Jim left the room and showered, and climbed into bed. He lay awake for a few minutes only to hear Jason's footsteps in his room. Jim lay still and listened to Jason make a shuffling noise before complete silence. He turned on his side and met eyes with Jason. Despite the pounding in Jim's head, he opened his mouth and whispered, "It's cold down there. Come up here." Jason hesitated for a moment before climbing into Jim's bed, and he closed his eyes. Jim threw the blankets over Jason and took a deep breath.

"I was dreaming about my mom... My birth one. I mean, I don't know her, but maybe this is the way she wanted things to be. Maybe she didn't want me," Jason whispered, "Maybe she doesn't want to be found..."

Jim kissed the top of Jason's head. "I can't imagine someone not wanting a kid like you... But I honestly hope that even if you do find her, you'll consider making this your home for good," Jim whispered.

"You'd want me to stay for the next five years? Like until I turn eighteen?" Jason asked.

"Or until you're ready to leave home. I figure if you're still living with me by the time I retire, we could go live in Maine... Get away from all the noise. We could go fishing there," Jim whispered as he went on to describe the coastal cities and the lighthouses and the silence. Jason's breathing slowed, and Jim kept speaking as if Maine was some fairy tale place.

Jim drifted off to sleep only after he knew Jason was fast asleep. They both slept late into the next day, only waking once the sun was too bright to ignore. "Pop?" Jason asked as he sat up, and Jim groaned. "Therapy?"

"Mhm, we'll pick someone out together... But first, let's go eat, okay? I promised my son I'd take him out for ice cream," Jim smiled. Jason got out of bed, and he stood in the doorway.

"I know I just kind of got you, but... You're the best dad I've ever had," Jason whispered before waving. The words made Jim's heart heavy. He got cleaned up and dressed before leaving his room and ran into Barbara in the kitchen.

"You do realize that you just can't promise him ice cream and make things okay, right?" Barbara asked. Jim nodded solemnly.

"I know," he replied, "But I did talk to him about therapy, and he said he'll give it a try as long as I'm there with him."

"How'd you manage that? He wouldn't even—."

"I took a different approach. Do you want to come with us to get ice cream?" Jim asked. Barbara nodded.

"Sure, why not. I have a day off... Also, I noticed... This is the second night in a row that he hasn't slept in his bed," Barbara noted. Jim nodded.

"I know. But last night was sort of my fault. He was gonna sleep on the floor," Jim explained. Jason came out of the bathroom and stretched out. "Hey, I'll be downstairs." Jason nodded and moved to follow Jim before Barbara took his hand.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded and stood in the kitchen with her. "You okay?"

"Train me," Jason whispered.

"What?" Barbara exclaimed. "No! Are you crazy? You're just barely thirteen, that's way too young—."

"How old was Robin when he started? He didn't exactly look like he was in his early twenties," Jason whispered.

"Robin wasn't my baby brother. You are," Barbara replied as she tried to walk past him, and he grabbed her wrist.

"I already lost one family. I'm not gonna lose this one," Jason tightened his hold on her wrist, not to hurt her, but to let her know he was serious. She sighed.

"I'm not letting you in the field, but I'll consider it," Barbara replied, and he embraced her. She stood still in shock for a moment before hugging him back. "I'm serious. It's not a yes. I'm just thinking about it."

She tried to keep a stern look on her face, but she couldn't help but smile. "I call shotgun, Barbie!" Jason smiled as he ran down the stairs.

"Wait! No one calls me that!" Barbara shouted as she locked up and followed him down the steps and out to the car. Jason chuckled to himself in the front seat.

While they were eating ice cream, Barbara tried to think about the idea of a partner, but she knew he was far too young and much too traumatized to be out in the field. On the other hand, he would be too busy training to worry about losing them and decided that keeping Jason preoccupied was her best option.

She understood where Jason was coming from, but she was no Batman. She could only allow him to dream, nothing more. Barbara secretly hoped that he would lose interest as his fear of loss subsided. Only time would tell.

#fic #eyes and ears fic #batfam #Jason Todd #Barbara Gordon #Jim Gordon #Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Sheila Haywood #Original Character(s) #Jason Todd/Original Character(s) #Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson #Canon Divergent AU #Older SIbling Barbara Gordon #Jason Todd-centric #Barbara Gordon is Oracle #Jason Todd is NOT Robin #Jason Todd Has Issues #Jason Todd Has a Crush #Adopted Siblings

[manwrre]

i have been dreaming of a top gun:maverick!inspired harringrove fic for the past few days. esp since their usual dynamic is a cocky, self assured blonde and a wildly stupid + talented brunette so puhlease. if that doesn’t scream harringrove, i dunno what will.

imagine billy, whose dad got kicked outta the military on a bad conduct charge but never tells a soul—too ashamed and too proud and too angry to bear the weight of his actions. so instead, when he gets home to his wife and kid, he makes their lives a living hell and runs their home like a base.

0600 - wake up “because i won’t have any slobs living under my roof,”

0605 - leave behind a bed of perfectly creased corners or “sleep on the floor, since you want to live like an animal,”

0615 - start the chores or “starve. there’s no such thing as eating for free,”

“don’t talk back,”

“don’t ask questions,”

“you’re not a baby, billy— stop crying over toys.”

“are you some kind of fucking fairy? sit up straight.”

“you better not embarrass me, boy.”

and it only gets worse when billy’s mom finally ups and leaves. no amount of “yes, sir”s can save him from his father’s wrath and soon enough, rewards and punishments become all too similar; the line between them, blurry at best. neil’s love feels exactly the same as his hate and both leave heavy stamps of purple and blackish-blue near billy’s heart.

so by the time that billy’s eighteen and old enough to leave, he’s more decorated than most. has given up more than most. has endured a battle longer than that of most neighboring countries.

and he doesn’t really have a choice (if he wants to leave neil’s house) but to join the air force and so, that’s what he does. and billy’s done a lot to survive but flying? the thought of it makes him feel alive. and the notion is only cemented after he watches a p-51 mustang take off for the first time and his heart feels it’s been through 10gs of force.

so he becomes the goddamn best in his batch. he gets his degree in mechanical engineering. he gets to flight school and he’s glittering. he’s whip smart and confident and has the instincts to back it up. he’s tall and sun-kissed, blue-eyed and blonde-haired. and that alone has everyone on the squad calling him “johnny— like bravo, not the jackass.” paired with his sweet, little texan drawl, he’s charismatic and a total wildcard. he bitches and preens and leads but billy,

billy gets the job done. every single time.

doesn’t care who it pisses of. doesn’t care about kissing ass. and yet still, when there’s a particularly tough mission, the admiral knows that johnny boy is up for it.

regardless, he racks up a long list of avid followers and enemies.

so when he gets to hard deck a day before top gun training is meant to start, he’s not surprised to meet the latter of whom in the form of steve “beemer” harrington.

steve, who looks the same as he did in flight school all those years ago— golden and freckled just about everywhere. he fills out his shirt just right and if billy were closer, the coupla inches steve has on him would be more obvious.

“beemer, as i live and breathe.”

billy’s pleased to see steve’s eyes widen at the sight of him. smirks when he realizes he’s on the receiving end of the brunette’s sweeping gaze.

“johnny,” steve says, around the rim of his beer bottle. “you look…good.”

and oh, does that light him up.

billy’s careful though, to not let his face betray a single thing. instead, he grins a little wider. a little deeper; a little meaner.

“well, i am good, beemer.” he shrugs and plucks the pool cue out of carver’s grip.

he ignores the blonde’s huffing beside him and instead, leans forward to line the tip of it up behind the ball.

he knows the motion accentuates the long lines of his body. he knows that gravity favors him and the undone buttons on his shirt; gives a generous view of his naked chest.

“i’m very good.”

steve’s eyes flit between his and then, somewhere lower.

and billy snorts, lining up his aim; coiled tightly and precise. holds it for all of a second before the string snaps and he’s breaking the rack with a resounding, wooden clackclackclack.

“in fact, i’m too good to be true.”

and thereby starts their enemies to lovers trope! i’m talking heated looks in the locker room, post training tension, make out sessions in the otherwise empty gym. hanging out at each other’s on base accommodations and billy calling steve ‘bee.’ imagine them exchanging dog tags?? and steve getting all possessive when billy’s got his flight suit unzipped halfway and tied around his little waist. they’d be instructors together and show off in the air, driving everyone crazy. the perfect leader and wingman.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #steve stranger things #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #steve harrington blurb #billy hargrove blurb #billy has a southern accent #boys in love #top gun maverick #tgm au #hangster #i want them flying okay!! #it’s perfect #hear me out #manwrre #writing wip #wip #au #rambling #i want as many places for my billy rambles as possible

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my November 2023 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. Enjoy!

Apple Pie Baked Just Right by 28goldensfics / @28goldens (92k)

“You’re sweet, thank you.” Harry was speaking so quiet it was almost eerie, but his fingers squeezed against Louis’ hand again. “I already feel like I can pretty much be myself with you. I’m glad you moved here, I’ve needed a friend. I hope you keep getting that breath of fresh air you need here.”

 Louis’ heart felt like it could pound out of his chest and onto the floor in front of them.

 “I’m starting to think I will.”

Louis has to get away. The news of his father’s terminal diagnosis, the loss of his job, and the breakup with his girlfriend leads Louis to leave for a life of slower things in the small town of Cedar Hills.

His new neighbor is the Cox Family Apple Farm. Harry Styles, the oldest child of the Cox Family, might just teach him how to live life a little simpler, bake an apple pie, and breathe.

Album Series by suspendrs / @suspendrs (72k)

The Pink Album (31k) They don’t really discuss how hard it is to be in this situation, or to be doing the things they have to do to continue being together. It’s just something they don’t talk about, and that’s alright. Or maybe it isn’t, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it. Or, a love seven years in the making, inspired by Harry's debut album. Part 1 of albums Fine Line (21k) There’s still a lot of things they don’t talk about, a lot of things they don’t bring home with them at the end of the day, and a lot of things that don’t even need to be said. The world is the world and it sucks sometimes, but it’s far away when Harry’s at home and Louis’s here with him and none of it needs to matter when it could just as easily be ignored. Harry tries to open up sometimes, tries to bring Louis into his world, but Louis’s got a world of his own to tend to, and it feels like more often than not they are on two separate planets and the universe just keeps expanding. Or, a love three more years in the making, inspired by Harry’s sophomore album. Part 2 of albums Walls (20k) The thing about having been on the move so much for the past five years is that now, once they’re finally able to sit down and rest for a bit, they don’t really know what to do with themselves. Louis loved the pace of the band, for all he and the others complained about it; he isn’t very fond of sitting still, and he absolutely boredom, and there was very little space in their lives for either of those things while they were so busy putting out an album every year and touring more often than not. Being in the same room as Harry while neither of them are under the pressure of keeping up appearances feels like being in a room with a total stranger, and the amount of trouble they’re having trying to get to know each other again is really rather alarming. Or, a love one whole decade in the making, inspired by Louis's debut album. Part 3 of albums

I Was Yours (I Wish You Were Mine) by staybeautiful / @harruandlou (56k)

“Harry Styles!”

His name rang out clear through the city streets. He turned quickly back to the bar, startled by his own name and startled by the voice that called him.

Standing in the doorway to the bar, back lit and glowing slightly was Louis.

Not an eighteen year old apparition dressed in the same low slung blue jeans and t-shirt with swooping bangs that was always the image in his mind. No, he was Louis now.

or Ten years ago Harry dropped his best friend and high school boyfriend off at the train station and never saw him again. Now, he's twenty seven, living in NYC, and dreadfully unlucky in love. He can't stop wistfully thinking of Louis promising that they'd see each other again in ten years time. A chance meeting outside a bar has them tumbling head first into a summer of music, milkshakes, and maybe each other.

On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche (47k)

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

From Dust to Lust by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom (45k)

From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind.

It’s funny how things work out.

OR the one where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by angelichl / @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

"Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

Bloodsport by tofiveohfive / @tofiveohfive (40k)

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

Illusions of Someday by softgoldenglow / @usignedupforthis (26k)

The one where law student Louis and aspiring musician/full-time barista Harry are both a bit of a mess. There's dance parties and rainy beaches, vodka shots and mugs of tea. The world is hard but they're figuring it out together.

Not a Lot, Just Forever by givesuethemoon / @givesuethemoon (4k)

“I think,” Harry says, voice quiet, “that no matter where I go, who I meet, how old I get… I’m always going to come back here. I’m always going to come back to you.”

Part 3 of 22-23 canon

#28th appreciation #read #larry fic rec #monthly fic rec #2023 fic rec #trackinghappily #trackinghome #hlcreators #1dficvillage