#this series is alway gonna have a special place in my heart

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

BLUE- PROLOUGUE

Summary - Y/N Dursley had always been the ideal daughter, doting, loving and obedient. However, she gets a letter saying she's a witch and is invited to attend Hogwarts, her parents are quick to turn on her. All she has after her parents turn on her is her cousin Harry. But, she falls in love slowly with the friend of her cousin's enemy, Theodore Nott.

Word count - 1711

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/N, Dursley's treatment of Harry, talks of Voldemort

Author's Note - Welcome to BLUE! I've been planning this series for a long time now and I've finally been able to sit down and start writing it! I currently don't know what house to place the reader in so if you want to be part of the decision head over to my poll to vote on her house! It's been a long time since I've last posted a fic but I'm finally back! I'm gonna try my best to stay on top of my updating and keep posting. I do have a lot of requests to fulfill so I'll start working on those as I wait for the poll results! Lots of love to all of you and thank you for your patience!

THERE WILL BE A TAGLIST SO PLEASE COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED!

She has always been the ideal daughter and the ideal sister, treating her family with nothing but love and respect. She wished she could say the same for her brother, Dudley. Now Dudley was the most typical spoiled brat there was, he treated his parents like they were made of money and his sister as a servant. When it came to their cousin however, the poor boy was stuck under the stairs, being left out of many things because of who his parents were. Now she didn’t understand what was wrong with the boy, she was close with the boy, he was her best friend and she was his. 

They were close in age which aided in their closeness, her parents disliking her being so close with the boy but not saying anything in fear of upsetting their beloved daughter. The Dursley girl, who had a heart of gold, used any allowance given to her to get new things for her cousin who was stuck under the stairs. She shared whatever she could with him, whether it be food, clothes, books or toys. On her birthdays, she chose to celebrate with Harry, always making sure she included the boy in her special day.

On Harry’s birthdays, she was always the only one to get the boy a present, she would save up her allowance as well as any birthday money to get the boy new clothes, toys, books, games and whatever else she could think of. She never understood the animosity between her parents and her cousin but she never questioned it in fear of being yelled at by them.

It was Dudley’s birthday, he had requested they go to the zoo for the day. It was a nice change of pace, actually doing something everyone enjoyed on the spoiled boy’s birthday. She was squished in the backseat between her brother and her cousin, hating every second of it because Dudley kept trying to pull Harry’s hair and pulled hers on one too many occasions. “Stop pulling my hair! Mum, tell him to stop!” The girl complained to her mother.

“Leave your sister alone, Dudley. This is supposed to be a happy day, not one filled with complaining,” Her mother lightly scolded. The long necked woman’s last comment hurt her daughter but that’s what always happened when she would complain about Dudley.

As Vernon parked the car and the family walked into the zoo, Dudley ran ahead trying to pull his sister along with him. She pulled her arm away from him and stuck by Harry’s side instead. The day at the zoo was rather uneventful until the end of the trip when Dudley somehow got stuck in a snake enclosure and the snake got out. However poor Harry was locked into his ‘room’ under the stairs for a week. She would sneak the boy out at night so he could eat something and actually move around.

Now it was a couple weeks later, close to Harry’s birthday, she had already gotten him his present which was clothes that actually fit him. Harry was bringing in the post, handing his cousin a letter addressed to her, keeping a letter for himself and handing his uncle the rest of the post. “Harry, give me your letter, they’re gonna take it, we can open them later,” She whispered to her cousin. He handed over his letter and she hid them in the cupboard under the stairs. 

Later on that night, she snuck downstairs and unlocked Harry’s door to find the boy awake, holding their letters in his hand. “You first,” Harry said, putting her letter in her open hand. She let out a breath as she broke the seal and pulled the letter out. 

“Dear Miss Dursley, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed the list of supplies needed for the school year. The term starts on September 1st, we await your owl until July 31st. Sincerely Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress,” She read the letter aloud, “I’m a witch? They’re real?”

Harry left her questions unanswered as he opened his own letter, “My letter says the same. I don’t understand.”

The two of them stayed up the rest of the night, rereading their letters over and over. They stayed awake until the sun rose and Petunia began to walk down the stairs. “What are you doing awake? It’s a Saturday, you usually sleep in,” Her mother questioned.

“Harry and I got the same letter in the post yesterday. It was strange, it was from a school called Hogwarts,” She explained to her mother.

“Vernon! Get up!” The woman shouted to her husband. The fat man came down the stairs at a snail’s pace.

“What is it, Petunia?” The woman ripped the two letters from her daughter’s hand, leaving a large paper cut on her palm as her mother handed the letters over. Her father’s face paled, ripping up the letters.

As the days flew by, the letters flew in by the hundreds, both of them receiving letter after letter until Vernon decided to take them to a remote island to get away from the letters. However, instead, at midnight on Harry’s birthday, a large man had knocked the door down looking for the two. Standing up to the adults and telling them that the two children’s names had been put down since they had been born. The girl was surprised to hear about how her aunt had actually died and about Hogwarts itself. Right then, Hagrid, who had finally introduced himself, brought the two to London.

They had traveled to a place called Diagon Alley, where Hagrid brought the two to the wizards bank to fetch money out of Harry’s vault before starting their shopping spree. They went to all of the shops, the last stop being Ollivanders to get their wands. Harry went first, trying out two other wands before finding his match. It was a little harder for her, trying five wands before she finally found her match. 

Hagrid knocked on the window, holding up a snow owl in a cage and a calico cat in another. They ended their day getting something to eat at the leaky cauldron, Hagrid finally telling Harry how he got his scar, how Voldemort killed his parents and tried to kill him even though he was a baby. That night, neither of them could sleep, staying up all night going through their lists and triple checking they got everything they needed for the first term. The next morning was the day they actually got to see the cryptic school.

Hagrid only gave them their tickets when they got to King Cross Station, telling them to follow their tickets before disappearing. The two cousins tried to find the platform and resorted to asking a guard at the station who was no help at all. That’s when they saw a family of redheads talking about muggles. They looked at each other with a nervous smile before choosing to approach the older woman.

“Excuse me, how do you get…” Harry wasn’t sure how to ask his question but the woman was quick to understand.

“Onto the platform, of course dear. It’s Ron’s first time as well. All you have to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. If you’re a bit nervous, it’s better to do it at a bit of a run,” The woman explained to the two. So together they jogged at the wall as the woman instructed, finding their way to the platform.

“Woah,” Y/N said in awe, taking in her surroundings. 

They were able to find a compartment containing the same boy they met earlier, asking if it was okay if they sat with him. “I’m Ron Weasley,” The boy introduced himself.

“Y/N Dursley and Harry Potter,” Her cousin introduced them both.

“You’re Harry Potter! Do you have the…you know?”

“The scar?” The girl finished his question for him. The redhead nodded and Harry lifted his hair to reveal the lighting bolt scar on his forehead. The three bonded on the train ride to Hogwarts, getting all of the sweets from the trolley and meeting yet another first year by the name of Hermione Granger. She was looking for a boy’s toad before instructing the three to change into their robes. They all did and just as they finished the train had stopped. All of the students had filed out of the train, meeting up with Hagrid who led them to the boats that would take them to the castle.

The view was breathtaking, the only lights coming from the lanterns on the boats and the castle itself. It was like a dream, she had to pinch herself to convince herself she wasn’t actually dreaming. When she winced she deduced that she wasn’t dreaming and this was actually real. Hagrid led them to one of the professors, the same professor who signed their letters. She was leading them up to the Great Hall for the sorting.

“There are four houses, they will be your home for the next few months until summer, they are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin,” The professor explained to the group.

“There's not a witch or wizard from Slytherin that hasn’t gone bad,” Ron whispered to the cousins. 

“So it’s true what they say, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. Draco, Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore Nott,” A blond boy interrupted from behind them.

Harry and Draco had a quite heated exchange before the lot of them finally followed the older professor into the Great Hall. The sorting ceremony dragged, Harry getting placed into Gryffindor along with Herminone, Ron and the boy who lost his toad, Neville.

“Y/N Dursley,” The professor called. She walked up to the stool on shaky legs before sitting, the hat getting placed onto her head. The hat coming to life spooked her a bit but she was able to relax for a second.

“Hmmm, you’re a tough one to place, you’re intelligent, brave, loyal and clever. Big traits of all four houses, but where to put you? You would do great things in all houses…Ahhh… I got it, better be…”

#harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x dursley!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #theo nott #harry potter x cousin!reader #harry potter fandom

[pancakeontheloose]

100 CHAPTERS OF NORAGAMI WOOO ✨🎉🌱!!!

#CONGRATS TO MY FAVE WOMEN !! #so proud of them frrr #this series is alway gonna have a special place in my heart #noragami #noragami 100 #yato #hiyori iki #yukine #my faves :''D

[curemi]

Some Mew Ichigo poses 🍓

#tokyo mew mew #tokyo mew mew new #mew ichigo #ichigo momomiya #my art #i think i like drawing these more than portraits i just wish my lineart wasnt so stiff #i already miss the reboot lol #it had its ups and downs but i still looked forward to it every week #this series is always gonna have a special place in my heart #can-do dreamer cures all btw

[wigmonster]

my toxic trait is that i really genuinely enjoy danganronpa s: ultimate summer camp

#txt #i never talk about danganronpa ever anymore #i dont really like it as a series but it will always have a special place in my heart #i do wholeheartedly enjoy this one tho #bc i love all the characters so much and in this one theyre like.... happy #its just fun. im never gonna be a danganronpa fan again but this game is just nice

[hgduo]

I'm still not watching any of the final streams or s2 btw- the posts I rbed are just me celebrating after being in the trenches for c!Tommy for fucking years..... the things we suffered through..... i'm glad at least at the end there was some respite ;u;

#it's always gonna have a special place in my heart.... this series #and it feels nice to have some reassurance that yeah- I didn't waste my time loving it #at least in some way #yeah :) #idk.... i'm bad with words ;u;!

[tojipie]

I love your prison bf toji series so much!! Also, in the newest installment of the series Toji says that Shiu has had a crush on the reader for a while? I’d love to see how this crush developed, how Toji found out and how Shiu dealt with his feelings!!

ughhhhgghgg i love this prompt so much :(( bless your heart you’re a genius <3

prison bf toji series linked here <3

context ! -> fic takes place very early on in reader and toji’s relationship. this is pre-prison and at a point where he hasn’t introduced him to his men yet :D hopefully this makes sense !

content: fem reader, brief piv smut, mentions of incarceration, objectification of reader by stranger, fluff, they make up dw ! jealousy, angst, unrequited love

purple hickeys bloom across your chest as toji makes his way from shoulder to shoulder, pinching bouts of delicate skin between his teeth while length ruts into you.

the drag of his cock is delicious, hitting that special spot at just the right angle from the way he has you laid out on the couch, both legs thrown over his shoulder with your head propped up on a cushion.

toji was always like this after securing a deal at work, soft, sensual, taking his time with your body as an act of celebration. half-empty glasses of champagne still lie on the coffee table where you’d left them, leaving rings of cool sweat on the glass surface.

“gonna cum,” he groans, pulling away from your neck with a pop and blowing cool air against the saliva-soaked hickey. you squirm at the stimulation, throwing your head back as your high creeps up on you t— was that a key in the door?

toji pulls out of you with unmatched speed, reaching for a couch cushion to shield his manhood. he rucks a throw blanket over your body with a string of curses, using his massive build to hide the silhouette of your body from view. 

“what’d i tell you about waltzing into my fucking house?” your boyfriend yells, staring down the suit-clad stranger with a look that screams blood-lust.

the smile that breaks out on the man’s face is nothing short of filthy, eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat

“awww didya get us a hooker boss-man?” he sneers, cigarette hanging from his lips. “could’ve waited till i showed up to start but i’m down for whatever.” he laughs, gingerly placing a pristine briefcase on the coffee table before taking your discarded bottle of champagne as a parting gift.

“don’t have too much fun, alright?” he teases, stepping out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

the two of you are speechless for several minutes, looking back and forth between each other, the door he didn’t even bother to close, and the mystery briefcase you’re not sure you want to see opened. 

toji sits up with a string of curses, stalking over to kick the door shut with a sigh. 

“that’s.. shiu,” he mumbles, clearly embarrassed. 

you sit up from your spot on the couch, letting the blanket guarding your modesty slip down to your waist. toji settles down on the opposite side of the couch, arms outstretched to let you climb onto his naked form. 

“handles money,” he clarifies, tracing abstract shapes onto your spine. “my cut from today is in the case.”

“do you trust him?” 

he nods, resting his head in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

you figure that’s all you need to know.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

the apology shiu gives you the next time you meet goes on for ten minutes. variations of “fuck i didn’t know” and “i’m so so sorry i really am” spill from his lips while he bows at your feet, forehead firmly pressed to the wood floor of your dining room.

toji sits at the head of the table, shoveling bites of dinner into his mouth in between heart laughs.

“mmf— tell her again i don’t think she heard ya.”

the truth is you’d kind of forgotten about your boyfriend's right hand after the incident was over. was the hooker comment uncalled for? sure, but judging by the saturated fear in the suit-clad man’s eyes you figure toji had done something to set him straight.

plus you’d both gone two more rounds after the initial embarrassment had died down, making up for the little roadblock on your path to an orgasm. 

“it’s okay, promise,” you say quietly, not entirely sure what to say at this point. the suit-clad man stands again, bowing to both of you with a sigh. 

“now give her our little present,” toji says, stalking over with his arms crossed. 

a sealed bottle of champagne— the same kind he’d so graciously swiped from your home— is placed in the palm of your hands before you’re able to question either of them. 

you shoot the other man a greatful smile, and shiu realizes he quite likes the feeling of your soft hand shaking his.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

toji’s annual new year party was a sight to behold. alcohol, dancers, and booming music was the typical atmosphere, though the event had taken a complete turn once you’d entered the picture. 

gone were the days of loose dollar bills and stray panties littering the floor, the smell of sex and smoke in the air.

in were the days of… a modest bar and fancy catering, much to his men’s dismay.

toji didn’t quite know how to throw a party that could be deemed “professional” but he figured not having strippers at the house might’ve been a step in the right direction. some of the guys even brought their wives this time, fun right?

and so, toji sits toward the back of the room, watching you socialize with a drink in hand, his best friend beside him. 

tension hangs in the air as both men watch you from afar. one with pride, the other with longing.

“do you want her?”

“… what?”

toji doesn’t elaborate on the cryptic question, peering at his friend over the rim of his glass.

shiu pauses, downing the rest of his drink as he thinks of what to say. a warm hand settles on the meat of his shoulder, letting him know it’s ok.

“yeah man, i do,” he admits, too ashamed to look up from the floor.

greed. the word that’d graced toji’s knuckles since the day he turned 19. black ink needled into a canvas of tan skin, bleeding into the rest of the tattoos like water flowing upstream. 

it fit him perfectly. it did then, and it does now. toji always gets what he wants, regardless of how other people feel. a man overcome by what he believes he deserves. 

the hug he’s pulled into isn't filled with malice. the threat of violence isn’t there, unlike the time toji had taken him by the collar and threatened to gut him like a fish over the comments shiu had made the first time he met you. 

this hug is.. soft. inviting. an embrace that tells him “it’s okay, i trust you.” the fact that toji hasn’t bashed his nose into his skull is a telltale sign that there’s no fault in feeling the way he does, so long as he doesn’t act on it.

shiu truly doesn’t know what to say other than yes, he does want you. he wants you to be the one he comes home to each night, he wants your soft skin on his, wants to spoil you and make you smile.

you were kind, attentive, shy at times. the complete opposite of toji and his brutish demeanor. a flower cradled in the hand of a dragon.

but you weren’t his, and you never would be. not when toji had been the one to sweep you off your feet, securing a place for himself in your heart that shiu could never fill. 

and that was ok. he was here for his job, not you. shiu was fine with you being oblivious to his feelings, in fact, it was better that way for the three of you.

that’s exactly why he breaks away from the hug as you pad over to their table, shooting you both an apologetic smile before heading over to the bar. as long as he’d still be able to catch a glimpse of you every now and then, he’d live. 

edit: forgot abt the taglist oopsies 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

#prison bf! toji #prison bf!toji #adah’s asks #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji headcanons #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #toji x fem reader #toji x fem!reader #toji x fem reader smut

[shamelessfaceless]

Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Series Masterlist

1. The one and only Spider-Woman.

Pairings: WandaNat x F!Spidey!Polish!Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When your girlfriend cheated on you, you decided to finally accept Tony Stark's offer.

Warnings: Cheating with man, sad R, Homophobia

Wc: 1.2k

A/n: I will put my whole heart in this series😭 Next parts are gonna be longer.

You promised yourself you would always smile  while wearing your mask. For this reason your mask was showing the bottom of your face. It was your own project and it had a special place in your heart. You wanted to show people that nitatter what you are doing, and who you fight with, you will always smile, just be happy that you can protect innocent people. Another reason why you projected your mask like that, was the fact that you have fangs. It's not like you use them often, but they can be really helpful. One little bite, and can paralysis villains for a while. S.H.I.E.L.D knew about your existence, and wanted you to join avengers. They even send to you the one and only Tony Stark with Nick Fury. You decided to wait. It was your last month of school, and you had a girlfriend you didn’t want to leave alone.

You graduated with not so bad grades, and you passed all your exams with almost the best scores in your class. You hoped your girlfriend would be with you, but she texted you at the last minute that she needed to take care of her sick mother. You believed her. How could you not? She was almost the most important person in your life. So in the evening you decided to visit her, her mother knew you really well, and was happy her daughter had someone like you. Well, she didn’t know you were a couple, she was a typical homophobic christian, just like most people in your country. 

Only thing in her room you could see was how deep she was in kissing a guy. She didn’t even notice you opened the door to her room. Looking in her cold eyes made your stomach flip. You don't even know how... no, when this happened. You don't know when she met him, when he started being the reason she's smiling everyday, when she stopped caring about you. Only thing you can look at are her sky blue eyes you loved looking at. You were always finding your safe space in her, now the only thing you see in her eyes is how much she is disgusted in you. Her words were something you were expecting. You weren't enough. He is a man, of course she would want to be with him, how could she love a girl? You were just stupid thinking he was just her friend.You tried so much to not end up like before. But everything is always the same. You are trying your best, but they are always choosing someone else, someone who isn't so complicated, someone who is.. pure. The most important, they always will choose someone who will fuck with them after a week of dating. They don't understand why you care about romantic things, when you could just let them fuck you. They are animals chasing their own pleasure, don't giving fuck about true love. 

It was the first time when you put on your mask and did wear your bright smile. 

There was no reason for you to stay. Your friend moved out a long time ago, and for you, your online friends were enough. Your parents were dead. At least for you. Just like you were dead for them. They didn’t want a Lesbian daughter, and you hated them for all the traumas they gave you. You half lived on the street. Most of the time you were spending in school or saving your country. You showed up in your home only if you needed to take a shower or books for school. 

“What are you thinking about kiddo?” Tony asked, putting hand on your back.

“You know, just how my girlfriend cheated on me few hours ago, and now Im part of fucking Avengers” You didn’t even looked at him. You only look at changing numbers signaling that you were higher every second. 

After running away from your girlfriend's house, you called Tony. Only thing  you wanted was to leave as far away and as fast as you could. Break ups were always hard for you. You just wanted to feel loved, feel important for someone. Looking at the sunset on top of one of the buildings was your way to say goodbye to the country you truly love. You promised yourself, you will start a new and better life. No thinking about the past. You need to let it go, and life looking at the future. You knew it would be hard, but you also knew you needed to do this. There's too many open wounds, just because you couldn’t let go thinking about the past every night. 

Pretending to smile while meeting everyone was the hardest part. Pretending to be happy while in the back of your mind the only thing you could think of was your exs, and how you couldn’t be enough for them. Tony left you just when you walked out of the elevator. Steve introduced himself and his friend Bucky. You gave them a polite smile and mumbled your name. You just wanted to go to your room and sleep the rest of the day. Next people that introduced themselves were Clint, Bruce and Sam. Last person was Natasha Romanoff. You learned from her that her wife Wanda is on the mission with Thor. 

“I hear slavic accent.”

“Oh, yeah…  I'm Polish.”

“Tony was one hundred percent sure you're from Russia.” You hate when people mistake you for Russian. It's not even like your languages sound super alike. 

“Chuj.” You said to yourself. “Uhm, nevermind.”You looked at the floor when she looked at you. Natasha just laughed it off and you smiled. 

(Chuj - Dick)

“I'm guessing you don’t know where your room is?” When your eyes met her forest green ones, you felt like you couldn’t look away, but you needed to. You didn't want her to take you for a freak. 

“Yeah… Stark just left me here, and didn’t show me anything.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come with me. Tony decides that you will take Wanda's old room. We have lived together for the past few years, so her room stood empty. It's next to ours.” She said pointing at one of the doors. “So if you need something you can always knock.”

“So… It was nice to meet the famous black widow.” You opened the door to your room. 

“It was nice to meet another spider.” After you closed the door you looked around the room. You didn’t take many things with you, so there wasn’t a lot to unpack. Just some clothes and books. Just a few minutes and everything was in their places. You looked out the window and a few seconds later at mask in your hands. 

After a while you were jumping between buildings. It's late at night, so one would rather see you. When you get tired of jumping, running and half flying, you sit at the top of a skyscraper.

“So It will be my new life. The spider-woman saving the world.” You laughed to yourself. “It's almost unbelievable."

TAGLIST:

@marvelwomen-simp @andersonsprincess @leenasayeed @sapphic-simp4015 @taliiiaasteria

#marvel #wanda maximoff #lesbian #lgbtq #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wandanat #wanda x reader

[lovelyhan]

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words

★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c

★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay

★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”

As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.

“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”

Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”

“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”

“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”

“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”

“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”

“Now that’s just downright evil.”

“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”

“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”

“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”

“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”

You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end. 

But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago. 

Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since. 

The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement. 

“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.” 

Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”

You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet. 

But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?

“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”

Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.

It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”

You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”

“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”

“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”

She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”

Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.” 

You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.

In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.

It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.

But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.

“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”

Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”

“Why would she be sad?”

Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams. 

“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?” 

You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work? 

“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?” 

Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”

Too afraid to…? 

“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.” 

“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”

“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.” 

She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?” 

“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”

“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!” 

You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her. 

“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”

Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”

You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”

“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”

Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared. 

But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…

Oh. 

Oh. 

Fuck. You still love him?!

“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”

“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”

“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”

“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”

“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”

Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.

When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen. 

It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.

If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back. 

By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.

Before you and Vernon broke up.

“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”

Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.

You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company. 

There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.

But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.

In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today. 

But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table. 

If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.

You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.

The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.

You still…love Vernon. 

If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone. 

But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?

Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better. 

The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created. 

You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.

Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.

That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.

How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?

Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.

Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.

You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.

“Wait, come again?”

“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.” 

Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”

“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”

“Alright, thank you, Nari.”

After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?

You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.

You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.

Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.

But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.

Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments. 

Yours and Vernon’s…

You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit. 

Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing. 

You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!

By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here? 

Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons. 

You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—

The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.

He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.  

God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”

You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”

Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”

You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will. 

But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.

The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.

He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love. 

It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”

You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”

He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away. 

“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.

“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”

You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?

“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.

Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.

“I might have a good idea.”

When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.” 

“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”

His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot. 

It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block. 

And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur. 

You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.

“There she is. All cozy at that.”

Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.

“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?” 

Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…

She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill. 

But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…

The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.

When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.

So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.

The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear. 

Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.

“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.” 

You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave. 

“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”

“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”

You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”

Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past. 

Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.

“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.” 

“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”

Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”

“Um. About a month ago?”

“That explains it then.” 

You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”

Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.

“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”

You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation. 

Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.

The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you. 

But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set. 

“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.

“Do I know what?” 

His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is. 

“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”

That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.

“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”

When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to. 

But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.

“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.

“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”

“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”

Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?” 

You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.

“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.” 

The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”

Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.

But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.

You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.

“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”

You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.

In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool. 

And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.

“Shit, Hansol, please.”

Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…

Pleasure.

He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you. 

Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.

It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.

“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”

Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.

“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip. 

“Like you want to swallow me whole.”

His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again. 

“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”

Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.

“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”

“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”

The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.

The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.

“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”

He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you. 

“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”

All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.

His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.

Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system. 

That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.

Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.

He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”

He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.

“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts. 

“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue. 

“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”

“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”

For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.

“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”

The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.

When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.

But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him… 

He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.

Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.

Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.

“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”

You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?” 

You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right? 

But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:

“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”

⟢ end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen fanfic #chwe vernon fic #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

[jarofstyles]

Illicit 8

A/N: Hi ducklings! here is illicit 8. It's a bit shorter bc- being honest- I didn't put as much smut in this series as first intended and we needed to see more, and the next part is going to be a bit more action packed. I will definitely be doing blurbs and extras for them to fill in blanks for you guys

Check out our Patreon for early access to the rest of the series and 150+ exclusive writings

Illicit Masterlist

WC- 2.3k

Warnings- mentions of mental illness, stalking, smut, breeding kink/ mention of cumplay

————

“There you go, my sweet girl.” His raspy voice made her shudder in combination of his cock pressing into her and stretching her open. After a night with their friends, Harry had been the needy one, dragging her out and bringing them home to take her the way he wanted. She had been a tease in that dress and he had been quick to rip it off and toss her like a rag doll onto the bed. “Feel that stretch, yeah? Feels good in such a tight cunt.” His nose brushed against hers, smiling to himself at the feeling. “Always feels so fucking good.”

It was addictive. It had always been with them, since their first time, but it only grew every day. He’d never imagined he could love someone so fully, so wholly, but he did. More love than he ever gathered possible seeped out of his skin and tried to sink into her with every time he touched her. She reacted to every single kiss, every brush of his fingers. Being in tune with someone like this had shocked him- but he loved it. 

“Fuck.” Y/N’s head rolled back, neck exposed as his lips trailed down to the silky, delicate skin. It was hard to concentrate on anything when he was making her so full, his lips moving down and leaving hot kisses to the sensitive skin to make her whine. “You fill me so.. so good.” She exhaled, fingers tangled in his hair. Skin against skin always made her feel some type of way, but it was becoming glaringly obvious as months went by that any sort of sex with Harry was more meaningful and intense than anything she’d experienced in the past. 

“Little fuckin’ tease, S’what you are.” He nipped her throat, groaning slightly when he felt her hips buck at the feeling. His sweet girl liked a tiny tinge of pain that he was always happy to deliver. “Put on that dress jus’ so I could take you home and fill you up.” It was ridiculous how easily she could work him up. It was like the woman had a step by step guide on how to make his belly hot and his cock hard, but then her sweetness and giggles made his heart swell and turned him into someone insatiable. After spending a lifetime thinking the only sort of love he was going to have would be for money and power, she had side swept everything off the table and become the centerpiece in his heart. 

“Always want you to take me home and fill me.” She breathed, legs tightening around his waist. “Think- think people were taking pictures of us.” Her breathing caught as he delved his cock in deep, grinding against her as he was stuffed to the brim inside her needy pussy. It was so wet, weeping for him to keep her full, and he was a man who liked to deliver to her. Her words made him smirk. 

“Good.” His head tilted up, letting their swollen mouths brush. “I want them all to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours. No more hiding you. I refuse to keep you hidden when you’re the one I love.” He breathed, placing a kiss on her lips as he pulled out to shallowly thrust back into her. “Cause I love you so much, and you’re going t’be my wife. Gonna be the one to carry my babies and make me a father…” 

He surely felt her clench up at that, her breathing catching in her throat as he spoke like that. She couldn’t exactly explain why, but the knowledge that he wanted her forever- that he was planning on keeping her all to himself and giving her the most intimate and special gift he could? It fueled something in her. Her body got hit over the fact that she was going to be the one to give him children. Fuck Katherine, fuck her leaking their photos, Y/N was the one that was going to win. She already had. Harry was balls deep, inside her guts, telling her he loved her and wanted to marry her and give him babies. What else could she possibly want? 

“Ooohhh… look at that.” He cooed, pulling out and giving a bit of a harder thrust. “Baby likes that, hm? Like knowing M’gonna keep you forever? That you own my heart and soul…. Mm, that I’m going to…” he smirked against her lips, words pausing for a second as the pleasure of her heat wrapped around him felt a tad bit overwhelming. “M’gonna keep cumming in you, all with the hope that I knock you up?” Maybe it wasn’t exactly ethical but sometimes… The man hoped that they’d be in the 0.1% that had a pregnancy despite birth control. “Cause I think about it every single day.” The last three words were spaced with kisses. 

“You do?” She breathed, eyes lulling as she rocked herself against him as he fucked into her. It felt like she was submerged in a warm bath, full and complete with hazy vision and muddy hearing of anything other than them as he nodded. His eyes were full of promise, of a heat she hadn’t realized riled her up so much. Harry didn’t lie to her, he didn’t say shit for the fuck of it. If he was saying it- he meant it. 

“I do.” He chuckled. “I think about it every time I finish inside of you and watch my cum drip out of you. S’why I push myself back in, keep it there for a little while. Sometimes it’s why I keep going and end up making a second, third round. My body keeps telling me… my heart, they tell me to knock you up, sweetheart.” He crooned, hooking his thumb over her chin and pulling her lips open so he could lick into her mouth as he fucked into her with a little more fervor. It wasn’t just Y/N that liked this talk. He was hot under his skin. 

“Think about my ring on your finger and adding my last name to your first… I think about you swollen with my baby, having a piece in me as you walk around. Want you to be known as mine. Let them take those pictures because… it’s going to be so fucking obvious when you’re on my arm, your belly round with my baby in it. Fuck.” He let out a shaky moan before he adjusted,‘spreading her legs out further. “Every fucking day, I hope it catches. Hope that you forget… gives me a chance to fuck my load into you n’give you my baby. My pretty little future wife.” 

Y/N mewled at the words, her tummy sparking with the way he was fucking into her and the added arousal. They could hear she was getting sloppy and wet from the talk, but Harry had always been masterful at words when it came to her. He’d been able to manage to completely unravel her with whispers. She wanted it desperately. The knowledge he loved her that much, was so proud of having her and protective? It was one of the hottest things a man could do. 

“I want it.” She whispered. “I want you to marry me and- and I want your last name and ring…. Please,‘I want your babies.” Her fingers tugged him down and smeared her lips against his as she tried to kiss him the best she could- but it was hard as his thrusts were deep and rustling her on the bed. “M’yours. She-she played pretend but I want your babies. I want them all to know I’m yours, H. Please.” The slight tug on his hair made him growl. 

“M’going to baby. Gonna get you properly bred, fuck my baby into you and… and gonna make sure everyone knows your mine. Make an announcement, tell them all. I don’t care, I want everyone to know.” 

It still astounded him how possessive he managed to be over a lover. It had been a direct change to what he’d known prior. There was an overwhelming need to make sure she and everyone around them would know that he held the key to her heart- but even more so? She held the key to his. No- she held the beating organ, bloody in her hand. It belonged to her. A flip had been switched and he’d understood what all those people talked about in movies and songs, that all encompassing fuzzy feeling in his body when he thought about how much he loved her. Love, romantic love, an emotion he’d never thought he could feel before. Y/N had changed his life in more way than she’d ever know, and now he wanted to build that life into something even greater. 

“Jus’ lay there for me and let me practice putting a baby in you.” He crooned, buried to the hilt inside of her weeping hole. “Cause m’not gonna stop at one. Gonna give you as many as I can.”

—---------

In the bliss of a messy, orgasm filled night- Y/N should be completely boneless and at ease. And to be fair, she mostly was, but that little inkling of unease that had been in her gut since Katherine had gone missing. It was hard to be comfortable knowing she had broken into their safe space not just once, but twice. At least that they’d known of. Their privacy had been invaded and despite the measures Harry took to make sure there were no future break ins, it still had her a bit on edge. 

Moving in for real had helped a lot, knowing that there was now real security in the elevators and outside the doors, even having made friends with the one that was stationed in their foyer. But it was just difficult for her not to be a bit jumpy, rechecking locks and closing curtains even when she knew there was no way someone could see in. While she didn’t think Katherine was actually going to hurt anyone originally, having everything stripped from you and nothing to lose was a dangerous thing. The worry was more so for Harry than herself. The man was not as cautious about his own safety as he was hers and it made her anxious. 

Having a confident man was nice, but she didn’t want that confidence to turn into delusion. Harry had been the catalyst to her downfall and she knew it wasn’t something a woman desperately clinging to the validation she no longer had would take too nicely. 

“It’s been too quiet.” Y/N said against Harry’s bare chest, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he played with her hair. “I’m getting nervous.”

“I don’t know where she’s hiding, but they will find her, baby.” Harry promised, turning to kiss her forehead. He needed them to. He couldn’t propose on good conscience without her behind bars. “I’ve got people looking for her.” Maybe hiring PIs was a bit much but he didn’t like the idea of not knowing where the woman was. She was unhinged enough to break into their home, who knew what else she would do. His reservations mostly followed the idea of Y/N being hurt. He had a good idea on how to take care of himself but his Y/N was a gentle soul. She wouldn’t like any sort of violent confrontation and god knew that Harry would lose his head at the mere idea of someone hurting his love. 

“I know you do.” She mumbled, burying her face into his neck and inhaling his scent. Soap from their shower the night prior, a little bit of sweat considering she was all over him at night, and cigarette. He’d had a smoke in his office before coming back to bed to wake her up. “I’m not one to call people crazy, especially women, but I don’t think she’s well mentally, H.” There was that tinge of guilt in her stomach, though she knew it wasn’t her fault. Realistically, Harry had made the decision to get with her out of the fact that it wasn’t a real relationship. It had been a means to an end and he’d never sugar coated a thing with the girl- there was no sugar coating when it came to this man. “I just hope maybe she’s checked into a mental health rehab or something. I know she relied a lot on validation and superficial things. Maybe she understands how finite those things are and she needs to look deeper?” 

Unlikely, but Y/N was an optimistic, sparkling woman who looked on the bright side. How did she ever end up with cynical, pessimistic Harry? He’d never understood but thanked the skies every day for. His bright sunshine in the cloudy recesses of his mind. 

“I hope so too, baby.” He sighed, pulling her back to lay flat on top of him, pulling the blankets over their forms to trap the body heat in. She ran cool and he made sure to keep her warm as best he could. “I wish I could say I see that as an option, but I don’t. People don’t just change that quickly.” At least, not in that way. He was being a bit hypocritical considering his world had entirely tilted on it’s axis when he met Y/N but he never claimed not to be one. “I’ve got eyes all over the city so I’ll know when she comes back in or if she crawls out of whatever hole she’s been hiding in so far. I’m going to make sure you’re safe at all times, okay?” His voice was the type of soft it only got when they were alone, the truth in it making her relax a bit more. 

“Okay, H.” Her lips brushed over the hair on his chest, pecking right over his beating heart. That was all that mattered to her.  Even in the moment of peace, the lingering unease didn’t disappear completely. The girl just couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. She just didn’t know what.

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #illicit #illicitrry #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles au #ceo harry styles #ceo harry #harry styles ceo #asshole h #asshole harry

[libraryofloveletters]

Being Jubes number 1 supporter at his games, he’s all in love cause he’s so boyfriend. Maybe Erling or Gio being haters in the comments (as a joke ofc)

- pookie 🫡

bitch you know I had to do this one rn // all pictures are from pinterest and/or instagram.

home is where you are

youruser added two instagram stories

 — 

judebellingham

liked by youruser, jordanhenderson, fabriziorom and 8,153,644 others

judebellingham: Hola Madridistas!🤍

It is the proudest day of my life to join the greatest club in the history of the game. I will give absolutely everything I have to help this team win. Thank you for the amazing welcome. HALA MADRID!!!🤍🤍🤍

location: madrid// tagged: realmadrid

view 53,595 comments 

vinijr: 🔥🤍

youruser: so proud of you baby!! 🥹♥️

comment liked by judebellingham

user22: i just know he’s gonna fit right into the team 

user5: omg his mom is standing on business 😭

↪️user7: it's always like that!! his mom: 🙂 - his dad: 😁

jobebellingham: 😍🤍

jackgrealish: Congratulations brother 👏👏❤️❤️

— 

youruser added an instagram story.

— 

judebellingham

liked by jobebellingham, szoboszlaidominik, youruser and 1,943,567 others 

judebellingham: Thank you to everyone who came down to Store Twenty Two. Adidas x Brum!!!❤️‍🔥

location: birmingham // tagged: adidaslondon

view 45,954 comments 

adidaslondon: renaming this account adidasbrum

↪️judebellingham: do it

adidasorginal: 📍💙🤝

youruser: proud is an understatement 😩🫶🏽

↪️judebellingham: ❤️❤️

user9: ^they make me feel more and more single everyday 

— 

youruser

liked judebellingham, jobebellingham, vinijr and 832,563 others 

youruser: the last month has been such a whirlwind and I don’t even have the words to express what I’m feeling. Jude’s said it all in his post but those of you that have been his fan since his beginning at dortmund, know that I’ve been around since then too and been his bigger supporter (aside from his family of course) - to everyone at dortmund, thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving him and helping him reach his potential, you’ll always hold a special place in our hearts. 💛🖤

madrid has welcomed us with open arms and we couldn’t be more grateful. looking forward to spending the next few years here, we love you already! 🤍 

and to my jude, you are the best of the best. I love you and I’m so proud of you - as I seem to lack the words to truly express how in awe of you I truly am. I can’t wait to see you show everyone what you’re made of. ♥️

tagged: judebellingham

view 25,967 comments 

youruser: his mama took the last pic lool - we were exhausted from traveling and unpacking and just conked out on the closest surface 😭

judebellingham: I love you! there’s no one else I’d want by my side ♥️♥️

comment liked by youruser

user5: I’m so single, this made me sick 

↪️jobebellingham: me too 

↪️user5: JOBEEE WHAT ARE YOU DOINF HERE BYE LFKSJBFOIEBF

jackgrealish: crying in the club brb 

↪️youruser: fedexing you some tissues jack <3

user7: the fact that so many of the england boys and the dortmund players are in her comments supporting Jude and her 🥹

erlinghaaland: why didn’t I get a post like this when I left for city ? 🙄

↪️youruser: cause you went to city 🤮 KIDDINGGGGG - its cause you bullied me before you left🙄

bellingggoooallll: y/n is already the superior wag 

comment liked by youruser 

gioareyna: where’s my shoutout ?? you don’t miss me ?? do I mean nothing to you?? 

↪️youruser: why are you like this 😭

--

a series of y/n instagram's stories.

#anj's 8k series #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football instagram au #football social media au #football smau

[lycheedr3ams]

Uhm.

(I feel like an addict crawling to you to get her fix)

I was just wondering 👉👈 if you could, uh, sometime when you want, IF you want, tell us how would emotionally unavailable König react to our poor sniper babe asking if they could do it without a condom? Or if she asks if they could kiss...? (I'm melting)

Perhaps she's at a breaking point or something, just wants to feel him even if just this once? What would happen...?

I love those drabbles you did so, so much. They have a special place in my heart and I cherish them so, whoo I can't even explain. Much love to you 🩷🩷🩷 and please feel free to just ignore this ask if it's not your cup of tea!

i love this ask! it challenges me and i love it. i also love this plotline i've made and i want to expand on it

this is going to be a mini-series, so i'm gonna make a proper title and masterlist soon

TW: NSFW, smut, mentions of self-hate, just sad overall, angst, maybe some comfort at the end?

part 3 of Relapse

you'd lost count of how many times you and könig gave yourselves to each other. it didn't matter that he always guarded the sweetest parts of himself from you, hiding his lips behind that hood and his cock within the condom. he gave you as much of himself as he was able, and you thought you'd never find the courage to ask for more. how could you ask more from the man who already gave you so much?

despite könig's best attempts at a detached façade when everything he was laid bare before you, you knew that he willingly gave you the parts of himself that he had never given to anyone else before, parts of himself that he didn't know he even had. he was a balm that protected you from yourself. but just like every topical substance, it wore away. and könig's balm was exactly that: topical. it never reached very deep - it wasn't in its nature to. and neither was its nature to last very long, or ever be enough. it was meant to heal only a little at a time, sadistically leaving some wounds unhealed so that you had no choice but to need more.

you tried your best to not look disappointed every time könig clumsily opened the shiny condom wrapper and slid it down his aching length. but you never missed the way his large, calloused fingers shook each time he tore the package open, or the way he'd fling the wrapper somewhere in the room with a frustrated grunt. you were grateful for könig and what he gave you, but the plastic shape of his cock was not enough: you needed more, and you hated yourself for it. you wanted what könig already gave you to be enough.

some nights, on the nights when you just needed his comfort more than anything, you couldn't help the quiet sigh that escaped your lungs as you watched him reach for the condom box. you'd watch könig slide the thin plastic down his smooth cock with contempt masked as sadness, not able to look him in the eye as he created a barrier between you and the part of himself that you needed the most. but still, you welcomed him into you each and every time. how could you ever refuse him, anyway? how could you refuse the only man who looked at you as more than a pretty face, a man who saw more of you than you had ever showed to anyone, even yourself?

there were some nights when könig almost seemed... reluctant to put on the condom. some nights when he just stared at the crinkling wrapper under his fingers, listening to the sound of it without actually tearing it. you always watched in wonder as he listened to the sound of the barrier that separated you two, but you could never tell if he was just lost in his own thoughts for a moment or contemplating not using the thing at all. you didn't think it could be the latter, since he always wore the damn condom every time.

but one night happened when you just couldn't take it anymore; you were just too needy to feel guilty about it. you were tired of the surface-level balm he gave to you abundantly. you wanted the medicine that would penetrate your skin and seep into your bloodstream, the medicine that would reach deeply and be felt within every nerve of your body. as he reached over your head for the box like he always did, you somehow managed to get the words out.

"please. no condom. not tonight." you wished your words had come out more eloquently, more convincingly, but your tongue felt dry in your throat and your voice like it had been sealed away. könig's arm froze in midair above you as you spoke, until he lowered it by his side and stared at you for much longer than you were comfortable with. you were already naked with your legs spread, and his gaze was intense enough as it was. you looked away shamefully as he seemed to dissociate, your skin tingling everywhere his eyes wandered. but his eyes weren't wandering with a purpose; he seemed to be searching your body, trying to find something. but his head stayed still, and you wondered if he could even see you at all. perhaps he was searching instead within himself. maybe könig didn't have the medicine you needed after all.

"just this once," he finally muttered. your eyes opened wide and your lips parted. had you heard him right?

"did...did i just hear you right?" you asked softly. konig then wordlessly slid the underside of his cock on your soaked entrance, coating himself with you. your face burned hot when you finally, finally felt the skin of his manhood against you. you were already shaking and panting, and he wasn't even inside of you yet. he watched you with wonder and lust as he felt the sensation of your wet, slick folds. then, without any warning, könig eased himself into you in one easy, gentle thrust.

every time könig entered you for the first time each night you had sex, it always felt like heaven had been brought down just for you. but this time, when there was no plastic barrier between the most intimate parts of yourselves, it was so much deeper than unbridled ecstasy; it felt like coming back home after being away for so long that you forgot what it felt like to feel safe. you and könig each had your eyes screwed shut and were trembling, your arms and legs wrapped around him tightly. you finally felt his warmth, his smooth hard skin, the ghost of a pulse that fluttered against your walls. and könig finally allowed himself to indulge in the wet, protective warmth of your womb. was it some Freudian concept that made him feel so welcome within your womanhood, his unconscious mind being reminded of where he had come from? or was it that you were just so warm and wet and perfectly wrapped around his cock like you were made for him?

könig shuddered and finally opened his eyes to look down at you. you were panting with your brows furrowed and eyes shut. suddenly, könig set a pace, but it wasn't punishing and animalistic like it usually was. tonight, he slowly - almost too slowly - dragged each and every inch of his cock through your walls, watching as they dragged along his cock as he pulled out and constricted once he went in. you moaned deeply, as if you were breathing for the first time. you had never been so wet for him before, you were literally dripping down his balls and onto the sheets. he gently applied pressure to your lower stomach as he leaned back and watched as he fluidly rolled his hips and sunk his cock in and out, in and out of your heat. his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and you were now silent (except for the occasional gasp) as you traveled somewhere far away that only könig could take you.

könig's pace eventually increased, wanting to near his own end, but he lasted longer than he ever had before. sometimes, he nearly completely stopped and just watched, transfixed, as you begged for him to move. he seemed to be curious about the way you begged, almost like the way an astronomer looks wistfully up at the night sky to understand the stars. but his gaze wasn't cold and analytical like he was collecting data, it was more the gaze of one who sought to completely and wholly understand something far beyond their grasp, far beyond the reaches of their mind and body.

as könig slowly worked up the pace, his large thumb rubbed circles onto your swollen clit painfully slowly. but he was only working you up, edging you until you were both ready to come at the same time. and when you both did, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. lost in the heat of this mutual explosive orgasm, neither of you realized that könig had come inside you while he was fully sheathed.

you both panted and slowly came back to reality, and you looked at könig, a little confused, as he stared down at where you two were connected. you sat up on your elbows and saw a thin white ring around his cock, and your eyes widened. you couldn't find any words to say, and you looked up at him, a little panicked. you were fine with it, but you knew - at least, you thought you knew - that he wasn't. but könig didn't say a word as he pulled out of your wet heat with a hiss, and gently cleaned you up like he always did.

neither of you mentioned what happened as you both clumsily got dressed, and you pretended not to notice some of the semen he missed dripping down your leg that was absorbed by your pants. you almost wondered if that had even happened with the way that not a single word was said afterwards, but the white stain on your pants was proof that you weren't dreaming.

you smiled softly at könig like you always did after he gave himself to you, and quietly shut his door as you left, filled with his medicine that finally treated some of your wounds that he always left open.

#konig fic #cod mw2 #konig smut #konig imagine #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig headcanons #konig #asks #answered #sad girl hours #konig art #cod konig #konig fanfiction #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig fluff #konig angst #konig x reader smut #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig x you #call of duty #könig smut #könig cod

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

#ellie williams #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tess servopoulos #tess tlou #jesse tlou #dina the last of us #dina tlou #the last of us #lesbian

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

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[carolmunson]

agitated from the shadows, can i take it all back? (older!modern!eddie)

part seven of however many. orange colored sky set list summary: things simmer in the summer, and as it comes closer to a close, whatever is lying beneath comes to the surface. and it's more than eddie bargained for.

tw: 18+ minors dni. this series is about an age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s/early 30s, eddie is in late 30s early 40s. they're around 12 years apart), arguing/yelling, references to drug use, references to smut, references to domestic violence. songspiration: episode | gallant (this is one of my favorite songs of all time so i recommend listening)

Eddie was always a little sad when Steve left after visiting, but his heart was beating fast in his chest when he hugged him goodbye. Getting Harrington's seal of approval was all he needed to hear. "Keep her around Munson. She's special, you're not gonna top her." "Oh Steve, my guy..." "I'm topping her all the time."

He couln't help the swell in his chest when you both first met, like you'd known each other for years without trying. He even got a little jealous when the night's you'd stayed over, Steve would spend his time deep in conversation with you. You'd trudge upstairs long after Ed had gone to sleep, learning more about him through Steve than he'd told you himself. You guess Steve would know better than anyone else.

You tried to make yourself scarce though, leaving them to their own devices. You knew they had traditions and plans, they spent a couple days out in the Hamptons to say high to another friend. And that was fine, you had other things to catch up on. Work, bills, the world around you that wasn't in a haze of Eddie Munson. You had to cancel a night to see him play at Rockwood Music Hall with Steve when you were too hung over from a birthday party. You hadn't seen that group of friends since college -- it would be stupid to sit at home just because the guy you were seeing was busy. He wasn't even your boyfriend. After a fortnight of semi seeing each other for finally had a night alone. He treated you to drinks at a bar between your respective places. The night was humid, air thick while you both sat otuside sipping your final glasses of wine and stealing bites off each other's plates. You decide to walk back to his place, following the walkway next to the bypass through central Brooklyn. You split a cigarette, talking about the rest of his trip -- you talk about work and the dramatic break up of two of your friends. He lives for the gossip.

He lights another cigarette while you both turn down the top of the street from the parkway. Right at the rotary where you both got caught in the rain on your first date. The street is pretty bare outside of a few cars coming down and around, families normally don't like to hang out too late. All the restauarants were closed for the night. The orangey streetlights glow over the sidewalk, competing with the lighting from the grocery store's red and blue signage, the neons from darkened bakeries and bars. You peer into the windows of apartments that are too high above you for anything discernable outside of a plant or nice light fixture.

"Oh," he starts, letting the smoke out from his first drag, "How was your friend's party? All I heard about was your hang over."

You smile to yourself, "It was fun, got a little too fucked up -- which you heard all about -- but I had a good time. Probably shouldn't have gotten so drunk and then tried coke for funsies -- that was a choice."

"Hm?" he asks, his brows raise while his head turns towards you fast, "What was that?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Yeah, I tried coke," your voice is casual when you tell him, like it's not a big deal. You shrug and your nose scrunches, "Probably don't see myself doing it again though."

"Probably don't?" he asks, nodding slowly while you both make your way further down the street to his apartment. He pulls another drag, letting the smoke out before tucking his lips into his teeth.

"Yeah I just -- I dunno," you shrug, "Didn't really love it. It was whatever."

"Y'shouldn't be doin' that shit, peach," he mumbles, "'Specially if I'm not around."

Your brows quirk when he flicks the finished cigarette into the street, "Excuse me?"

"Just..." he sighs, eyes rolling while he considers whether it's worth the fight, "Forget it. S'fine." You're both silent while you make it up the stairs to his apartment, he seems unenthusiastic about you being here this time around. Deflated. You both kick off your shoes at the doorway before heading inside, putting your bag on the entry way table behind the bowl where he puts his keys and wallet. He pulls off his shirt while making his way to the metal spiral staircase, not even tossing you a glance while he heads upstairs. "You comin' back down?" you ask, wondering if you should follow. "Mhm," he nods, "Just changin', gonna shower."

"Can I..." but you trail off, not wanting to invite yourself -- uncomfortable in the silence. In the way he doesn't look at you, in the way he feels far away. The sound of the bathroom door closing puts a weight in your belly, your heart thrums, heat rises on the back of your neck. You settle in on the couch, the steady hum from the central air makes your eyelids heavy -- it was already a late night. You scroll on your phone, listening while the water hits the shower floor up stairs, wishing he'd invited you up. You feel sticky from the heat outside, from the bar air, from the beer someone spilled on your legs. Maybe you should just go. He appears at the top of the stairs when you open the Uber app, clearing his throat to get your attention. He's there in his sweats again, shirtless, tattoos shining under a layer of lotion rubbed into his skin. He tied his hair up, curly wet bun sloppily piled on top of his head, bangs fuzzily drying over his forehead.

"You can hop in if you want," he says, making his way down, "I left a towel by the sink for you. I um, I got that facewash you like -- that one you told me about. It's in the shower already, next to your loofah."

"Oh," your heart flutters a little, voice still meek and quiet. He still doesn't look at you. You exit the app, clicking your phone to sleep before standing up to make it to the stairs, "Thanks...thank you." He shrugs his shoulders when he looks over at you as if to say 'don't mention it'. He barely looks at you when you head up stairs, busying himself by filling up a silver REI canteen by the sink.

He did leave a towel, as well as a change of clothes. At least you knew he wanted you to spend the night. It's not like he'd let you leave the house this late anyway, you roll your eyes at yourself when you think about booking an Uber moments before.

You take your time, letting the hot water pour over you and calm your tense shoulders. Washing away the stickiness in your chest and on your skin. You scrub your face of any remaining makeup that had melted off on the walk home -- happy to not be using whatever random cleanser he got, trying to pretend he knew anything about skin care before you came along.

Some time had passed by the time you finished, padding down the stairs to see he’d pulled on a shirt. His hair hung in frizzy curls down to his collarbone again, drops of water during the worn black fabric blacker. He’s still in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher with tight shoulders and furrowed brows like he’s thinking about something. “Thanks for the jammies,” you chirp, sitting at the island on your designated barstool. “Yup,” he says, not turning to see you – very interested in the glassware he’s holding instead. Your shoulders droop with how curt he’s being, not used to this sort of standoffish attitude. He didn’t even get this miffed when you shrugged off his suggestion to watch Lord of the Rings and sided with Steve to watch Almost Famous. You hadn’t seen it in years. 

“You okay?” you ask, his shoulders tense. “Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he says, but he shuts the dishwasher a little too hard for that to be true. 

“You don’t seem okay.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Is this about the party?”

“I said I’m fine, peach,” he repeats. 

“I mean, it’s just a party Ed, it’s like – people go to parties –” 

“I said I’m fine.” He looks at you for the first time since you got in the house. It’s pointed, accusatory, and as much as you wish it didn’t, you immediately get defensive. 

“Wait -– ” you let out a bitter laugh, “Are you mad about the coke? Seriously?” 

“Drop it,” he says lowly, “Let’s not –” 

“Are you seriously upset because I did coke at a party and you weren’t there?” you’re incredulous, “You? Eddie ‘Can’t Remember Berlin’ Munson?” 

“Stop, just forget it–” 

“No, let’s not stop – let’s not drop it. What’s your problem with me going out and enjoying myself? You mad I’m having fun without you?”  “It’s not about you going out and enjoying yourself. That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it? What is it about me going to that party that’s got you so pissed off?” "'Cause I don't like that -- I don't like hearing that you're out getting sloppy at parties. I don't like hearing that you're trying new shit just for fun when you're by yourself," his gaze is hard while he leans over the island, chain dangling down from his neck. "I'm not by myself, I'm with my friends," you argue back, "Jesus Christ, Ed, I'm almost thirty years old."

"Coulda fuckin' fooled me," he snaps.

"Oh I forgot, you know everything. You've been there, done that. You know so much better than me, don't you?" your sarcasm makes him bite his tongue, anger teasing down his back in a blaze. Eddie hates that he has a short fuse -- he doesn't want to have one with you.

"Who'd you even get it from?" he asks, "Did you know 'em? Did you know if it was clean? Did they test it?" "Do you always know where your drugs are coming from?" you counter back. "Yeah, peach," he says with a nod, "I fucking do. I always know. God, it's like you think you're fuckin' invincible or some shit. I swear --" "I know who I got it from, it was clean -- the guy's loaded," you explain, face hot with frustration, "Can't imagine he's out there passing out fake stuff." The guy's loaded. So it was a guy -- Ed feels sick in a way that he hasn't in years. What was some guy doing telling you to try his shit? How drunk were you? Did you think he was cute? Rich guy? Did he try to pull one over on you? "How much did you pay for it?" he asks, crossing his arms. "What?"

"I wanna know if this guy scammed you, how much did you pay?"

"I didn't," you shrug. Eddie gets quiet, jaw clenching when you mention you got drugs on the house. He only knows one way that that's possible and it makes a rage in him bubble that he tries so hard to contain. His tongue runs over his teeth, trying to choose his words carefully. "You didn't pay for it?" he asks, the question clipped and tight. "No," you shrug innocently. "Did you fuck 'im?" "Wh-what?" the question punches out of you in shock. Why would he ever ask that? Why would he ever assume that? "You heard what I said," he bites, "Did. You. Fuck. Him?"

"No, I didn't fuck him," you hiss back angrily, "Why would you ever ask me that?"

"Can't think of another way to get drugs for free," he challenges back, "Did'ja suck him off? You're always tellin' me how good you are at it -- did you give him a fuckin' show?"

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" you get up off the barstool, posture matching his with your arms crossed tight around your chest.

"I'm just asking you a question," he repeats, his shoulders raising up and down in big breaths. "And I answered -- I didn't fuck him for free drugs," your head ticks to the side, "Sorry, not all of us have read the Eddie Munson doctrine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that I didn't do what you would've done." Your smart smirk when you finish your sentence makes him dig his nails into his biceps, a reminder to keep his hands to himself -- to calm down. This isn't about the drugs or the guy that gave them to you -- but he doesn't like that this is how you see him. Someone whose reckless and careless, someone who uses people to get what he wants. "Who do you think you are?" he snaps, "Huh? You don't know what you're talking about."

"If the first thing you think when I say I got drugs for free is that I fucked for them, then it's pretty clear that's how you go about your own business. How many people have you fucked for drugs?" you ask, "Actually, a better question would probably be how many people have fucked you for them?" "You told me you used to deal -- so c'mon loverboy, how many women did you have fuck you for drugs? If that's how to do it." Eddie shakes his head, eyes shut and jaw tense, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, "I never had anyone fuck me for drugs."

"So why would I have done it? Why do you always assume I'm doing something wrong? Why do you always expect me to act like I know what you know all the time? And better yet -- why does it even FUCKING matter?!" your voice grows higher and louder with each question, watching him get more and more frustrated while you continue, "Why does it even matter when you don't commit anyway? Maybe you're fucking around!" "I'm not -- ugh -- I'm not fucking around, peach!" he snaps back, chucking his water bottle hard into the sink with a loud clang. "Nice, Ed," you nod, arms crossing tighter around you, "Real nice -- what, you gonna hit me? That what's next on your list? Really put me in my place? Sounds so fucking familiar, I wonder where I heard it bef--" "SHUT UP." His voice booms through the kitchen, making you flinch. "Don't you EVER say that shit to me," he bellows, finger pointing directly in your face from across the island, "Don't you EVER make that comparison." You stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheek while he yells. "Do you feel better?!" he asks, voice hoarse and deep, graveled with anger, "Do you feel better now, peach?! Did that help?! Do you feel fuckin' validated?" He watches you shake your head no, tears starting to pool in your eyes. They look up at him, glassy and wet, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. He takes a deep breath, chest sinking when he sees the way you look at him -- silenced and quiet now, because he scared you. Because he's scary -- and that's why he shouldn't be with anyone, that's why it's too much to feel this way about someone. You wipe at your cheeks when the tears spill out, a few whimpers coming from you when you start to cry from how he yelled. From how you don't really know what you're both fighting about, but you both really know and it's terrifying. "Don't -- no baby, I'm sorry, don't cry," he says, his own breath shuddering, "I didn't mean to yell, I'm sorry. I won't -- I won't ever raise my voice at you like that." He rounds the corner of the island, coming to meet you on the other side with extended arms. His hands find their way to your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears gathering at your lash line, "I'm so sorry, I won't ever yell like that again. I promise. I -- I'm -- there's no excuse for that." He leans forward to leave a soft kiss on your forehead and the tip of your nose, "I'm sorry."

"That's - sniffle - not what I need you t-to be sorry f-for," you stutter out. He frowns back at you and nods. "I -- peach I just get worried, that's all," he confesses, "I don't really think you went and slept with that guy I just --"

He swallows, thinking about the words he wants to say. His hands drop from your cheeks to pull you in to him. He settles on the barstool, pulling you close to stand between his legs like he has before. "I don't wanna not hear from you for a week only to like, get a text or call from your sister that something bad happened," he says, his dark brown eyes getting as glassy as yours the more he thinks about it. "I know you're an adult, I know you can take care of yourself and that you're safe," he assures, "I promise, I know. I'm just scared." "What're you scared of?" you ask. "Losin' you," he shrugs, "To y'know, addiction or whatever -- or worse. I don't wanna lose you -- I really like having you around. Your -- you've added so much to my life in such a short period of time and I -- I don't know, peach. I think since Steve's wife I just -- It's something I think about." "You being scared doesn't give you the right to accuse me of sleeping around," your face hasn't softened at his explanation, not letting him get away with being an asshole. He likes that about you -- you don't take his shit, "It doesn't give you the right to talk down to me like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

"I know," he nods, "That was unfair." "I think you're just trying to find reasons to make me seem not worth it," you let out without waiver, "Even if you have to make them up."

"No," his brows furrow, "No, you're so worth it. Why would you say that?" "You were so quick to accuse me of some wild shit," you scoff, "It's like you're trying to fight with yourself about it. About how you feel and like -- maybe that lady from the bar a while ago was right. Maybe I have been just for fun for you. You got to play house with me, you got to see what a relationship is like for fun and now you can ruin it cause you're over it. Or you're bored." "No -- " he starts, heart thrumming in his chest, throat getting tight, "Peach that's not it at al--" "It seems like it --" "Did you not just hear what I said about losing y--" "I don't wanna hear it, it's just bullsh--" "Baby, I'm trying to be honest with y--" "This is starting to feel like a shitty game that you're trying t--" "I love you." You stop talking at the slight raise in his voice, the weight of the sentence hanging over the both of you in the kitchen. "God peach, I -- I fucking love you. I'm in love with you," he breathes, like he's fully realizing it for himself, too, "I...shit, I think about you all the time. I go to sleep excited cause I know m'gonna see you the next day I...Jesus babe, I -- I love you." Your lower lip wobbles again, "Yeah?" "Yeah," he nods, sighing weakly, "I knew when we got you your glasses. I knew -- I think I knew from the start. And I'm scared cause I -- I don't love people like this a lot." "Just Steve," you sniffle with a watery laugh. He lets out a chuckle, reaching out to pull you close to him by the waist. "Steve's different," he shrugs, "M'never gonna love anyone like Steve."

"I'm sorry for what I said," he reaches up again, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, "I'm sorry for yelling." "I'm sorry, too," you match him, hand reaching up to run your fingers through his bangs, pushing them away from his forehead to kiss it. His eyes shut closed at the soft touch, feeling you step close to him while his face rests on your chest. "I..that was fucked up of me to bring up your dad," you shake your head, "I was just angry I -- I'm so sorry." "It's okay," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. He rests his chin on your breasts, looking up at you, "I -- I've done a lot of work to not end up like him. Sometimes it still gets the better of me." "But I need you to know something," his face is soft but serious, "I will never put my hands on you, ever." "Okay," you nod, giving him another kiss on the bridge of his nose. "Only if you ask," he smirks, "Only if you want me to. If we're doing that." You both giggle in that way that couples do when they're being gross, holding each other on the barstool. Silence carries over you when the giggle runs out, both of you exhausted from the night -- from fighting. "I love you, too," you whisper down to him. "Thank god, cause I was really nervous that I just sort of let it all out there for nothing," he whispers back. He stands up, still wrapped up in you, offering you gentle kisses. He holds you there for a minute, you hold each other -- he realizes how tender he is with you. How you pull all of this tenderness out of him. "You're my girl, right?" he asks into the top of your head. You nod into his chest, his hand reaching up to caress over your hair. "Are you mine?" you ask into his shirt. "Yeah," he smirks into a low laugh, "Yeah, I'm your girl." "Can we go to bed?" sleepiness coats the question, a neediness lacing your voice. "Mhm." He leads you up the stairs, calling to his Google home to turn the lights off when you both make it to the top. He got a new candle for his room, something with oud in it. Woody, deep, musky. Ahead of the season. You slip into bed at the same time, leaving your phone on the side table while he slips his glasses on to check something on his. You watch him with his bedside lamp illuminating him from behind. It catches on the frizz in his wavy curls, tied up in ponytail. It bleeds over the slop of his nose and the whites of his eyes. He catches you when he puts his phone to the side, smiling. "What're you lookin' at?" he asks, slipping his glasses off and click out the light. "You just look handsome," you shrug. He murmurs a thank you before dipping down to kiss you when he slides under the covers. For the first time in forever he doesn't want to have sex after a fight -- it almost feels cheap. Like it's a cover -- like he's not really sorry, like he didn't mean all the things he said. "Night, pretty." He pulls you into him when you settle in, your back pressed up against his chest, "I love you." "I love you," you say back, eyes closed, encased in his arms. He's never held someone so tight to him. Not since Chicago.

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#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfic

[hoe4sports]

“You look like me”

Jenni Hermoso x Caroline Graham Hansen (Child reader)

A/N: This was shit, I might redo this later. Also Jenni never left Barca. This is a series. Spanish is always google translate. No triggers.

Summary: You and Caro go on an adventure. You cross paths with an older lady, and your two mama’s are taking steps in their relationship.

Mami was desperately trying to get you ready for the day, but you couldn’t sit still. You were bouncing off the walls with excitement as you waited for Caroline. Caroline had promised you to take you to the toy store and the local ice cream shop without mami, and you were beyond excited. It was almost like the things Mami and Caroline did! “Princesa, you have to try to sit still” Mami sighted as she tried to brush your long hair for the 10th time. “Lo siento, Mami, I’m just happy” you sang as your little legs dangled from the chair that Mami had placed in the bathroom for you to sit on. Your hands touched the skirt of your dress, it was pink, glittery and had sequins; all the things that together made the recipe of a very happy little girl. “And done! What do you think, amor?” Mami said as she held your hands to stand up infront of the mirror. Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened. “Wow! Mami! Es fantástico!” You said as your touched your little half updo with the pink elastics. “Es perfecta” you say as your eyes is entranced in your reflection. “You are my favourite girl in the world, amor, mami loves you so so much” Mami said as she picked you up and held you tight to her chest. She would do that from time to time, holding you close for a little while without saying a word. This had happened for the first time the morning she had woken up to your screams as a new born, her wife nowhere to be seen only to pick you up as she found a note downstairs saying family life wasn’t for her wife. That was when she stopped caring about girls and drinks and parties; life was only about her little girl now. Her world withing her hands.

You breathed in mami’s familiar scent and listened to her heart beat only to be disrupted by the sound of someone entering downstairs. “Jenni, Lillevenn! I’m here!” She called as you shot your head up to look at Mami. “Mami, Mami! Es Caroline!” You said as you wiggled loose and bolted towards the hall and the stairway. You giggled as you ran, your hair flying in the wind and your giggles roaming around the hall. “Mamma, mamma!” You yelled as you jumped down the stairs and straight into Caroline’s arms. The words mamma meant so much to her. She didn’t ever imagine wanting kids, but when she met Jenni; she had fallen in love with both her and you. Mami just didn’t know it yet. Caroline had helped raise you, and it felt natural and completely platonic to call her mamma. That was what she called someone in norway that would read her bedtime stories, take her to football and give her kisses, and that had to be a good thing. You jumped into Caroline’s arms and looked up at her. “I’m excited” you said with a shyness in your voice. “Well, I am excited to spend time with my favourite girl in the whole world!” Caroline exclaimed while stroking your hair gently as she smiled down to you. “Let’s go to the car, si?” Caroline said as you took her head and walked out, Mami following close behind. “I’m just gonna take out her car seat, it’s pretty eas-“ mami begun as she unlocked your big suv Lexus. “No need” Caroline said as she opened up the backseat door to her car. “Caroline, she needs a carse-“ Mami said as she shook her head slightly scared. “Wow! A seat! For me? Pink mami, it’s pink” you squealed as you looked at the car seat in the back of Caroline’s car and jumped up into it. “I love it mami!” You said as you slipped into it and giggled. “A special seat for a special girl” Caroline said as she smirked and looked at Jenni. “Caroline, you are absolutely spoiling her. You didn’t have too! I could get one for your car” Mami said as she crossed her arms and looked at Caroline. Caroline was busy buckling you in, and when the belt snapped together like it was supposed to; she turned around to look at Mami. “I’m in this for the long haul”

—-

“And here we are lille prinsesse, are you ready?» Caroline said as you pulled up to the toy store. It was huge. It had pretty lights and so many colors. You could see huge toy sculptures in the front of the store. It looked magical. It was fantastic! “Yes mamma! It has pretty lights” you said as you beamed in the car seat. Caroline smiled while looking at you in the rear view mirror and unbuckled herself before getting out and helping you out. She loosened the buckle and reached for your hand as you jumped down, your little sandals with blinkers going crazy. You walked together towards the store, which was huge in comparison to your 3,5 year old frame. Your hand grabbed Caroline’s extra tight when you entered through the entrance, and she looked down on you comfortably. “Carry me?” You said as you bit your lip, a bit overstimulated with the whole situation. Just like a mother would, Caroline immediately picked you up and placed you on her hip. When she held you, nothing felt scary anymore. It was safe. Warm. And familiar.

“Wow, look at mirabell!” You squealed as you saw mirabell from Encanto. Caroline smiled and looked at the direction you were pointing towards. Together you walked through endless oceans of bouncy balls, Barbies, baby born, cars, swords, game and little houses with little people in. As she walked around carrying you tightly, scared to death of losing the most important thing in her life; your eyes caught a familiar doll. “Mamma, mamma! It’s Elsa and Anna! From Arendelle!” You shouted as you wiggled down from her grip and bolted towards the big isle of toys. “Woah” you said as your eyes were sparkling while looking up at all the boxes. “Is this what you want prinsesse?» she said as she looked at the big selection of toys. You nodded as you were still in awe. “Can I have the set? With Elsa and Anna and Sven and Olaf and Kristoff” you asked as you were staring at the big box of figurines. “Of course, you can get anything you want skatt» she said reassuringly. She reached for the box that was high up on a shelf before you headed towards the exit to pay. She carried you out to the car, and got you all buckled in; safe and sound before heading towards the ice cream shop.

You were skipping next to her when she pointed to the ice cream shop. “Look lillevenn, there it is!” She said as she looked down on you. You giggled and jumped with joy as you pulled her along as fast as you could possibly move. The bell of the door rang when you entered the shop. It was bright and colorful with sprinkles on the walls. It had nice happy music and the smell was magical. It smelled like a strawberry soft serve with strawberry sauce and fresh cut strawberry. Your feet felt energised as you looked over all the flavours in the display. Caroline picked you up so you could see the ice cream. “Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, banana, orange..Bubblebum!” You say as you point to each flavor. “You are so so smart prinsesse, you impress me every day. Now, do you know what flavour you want?” She said as she looks at you with awe. “Yes, mamma, si! I do know!” You squeal as you are being called to the front desk to order. “Hola princesa! Qué te gustaría pedir?” The older woman says making you giggle. Mami has made sure to speak both Spanish and English, just in case you were to move abroad making the transition easier. “Por favor, ¿puedo tomar helado de fresa?” You say as you smile towards the woman while pointing towards the pink mixture still safe on Caroline’s hip. “Por supuesto! quiere algo señora?» the woman says as her hand is scribbling quick. “helado de chocolate por favor” Caroline responds as the lady gestures for Caroline to pay and she taps her debitcard on the machine.

“Mamma, I love strawberry ice cream, thank you so so much!” You squeal as you dip your spoon into the pink ice cream happy as ever. "Taste mamma!" you say as you shove the spoon into Caroline's face who willingly leta you. "mmmm, it's very good skqtt" she says as she carefully wipes your face on the napkin. “Taste? Pleeeeease” you say as you give her your best puppy eyes. Caroline laughs as she strokes your cheek before offering you a taste of her chocolate ice cream. “Mmm, mamma, gracias, it’s yummy” you say as you lick your lips. An older mysterious woman drops her bag forcing all her coins to fall out of her grip. Your eyes widen as you let out a shocked sound before you wiggle down and start picking up all the coins. You look over at the woman as you hand her the coins and she smiles warmly to you. “Thank you princesa” she says as she touches your hand. Caroline instinctively has a hand on your shoulder and decides to pick you up feeling like you are safest on her hip. “Are you her mom? You look so alike. You have raised a very empathetic young woman.” She says just as she walks out of the shop with her bag. You look up at Caroline who kisses your head. “Let’s go home to mami.”

As you pull up to the driveway, you hold your newest addition to your toy collection close to your chest. Then you can see Jenni come out of the house waving at the car. She’s just standing in her slippers which you find silly so you let out a giggle. Mami opens up the door of your side of the car. “Princesa! I have missed you so much! How was your adventure?” She asks as she unbuckles you while you hold the box in her face. “Mami, Caroline gave me Elsa and Anna and Sven and Olaf and kristoff! From frozen” you say as you squeal. “Wow, aren’t you so lucky?” Mami said as she picks you up and holds you close. The familiarity of mami’s heartbeat and warmth is enough to make you feel so sleepy. You yawn as you lean towards her, taking in the familiar comforting scent that you love so much. At night when you were to sleep in your own bed, you would make sure to have mami’s shirt with you so you could feel comforted if you woke up in the middle of the night. “Are you tired, amor?” Mami says as you nod. Mami carries you inside and Caroline follows quickly behind. “I’m just gonna put her down for a nap, Caz. Feel like home” Jenni says as Caroline nods and puts down her jacket on the counter. Mami starts to walk up the stairs as you say “mamma also put me to bed”. Jenni looks at Caroline and gestures for her to join. Eventually, Mami sits at the edge of your bed while Caroline sits at the little lounge chair next to your bed. “Me look like mamma” you say as you yawn again while mr.sleep is knocking on your eyelids. Caroline blushes as Jenni smiles “Do you think you look like Mamma?” You nod as you close your eyes and pull your polar bear close. “She does, dosent she?” Jenni says as she tucks your hair behind your ear. “I don’t know, she looks like you” Caroline says as she tries to move to conversation forwards. “No, Caz. She does look like you. I can tell that she loves you like she loves me. And I know that you love her as your own.” Jenni continues as she tucks you in with your favourite pink fuzzy blanket. You suddenly say “we a family; mami, mamma and me.” As you drift further and further away from the situation while imagining Olaf eating big strawberries in Arendelle where Mamma is from. Jenni and Caroline stands close in your doorway as the shadow of their frames are standing close together. “I would love to be a family” Mami says as you drift complete off.

#woso imagine #caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso imagine #woso x reader

[joekeeryswife]

coming home and masey surprises you with dinner!!

dinner - m.m

a/n: hey loves! here is a short but sweet story about our mase! this is the cutest idea ever. i honestly don’t even know this this makes sense but oh well, enjoy reading 🩰

CHAPTER TWO OF MY LOVE ISLAND SERIES IS COMING SOON!

stress is all you were feeling. the stress of your new job was the worst. even when you were at home you were stressing about it and all you wanted to do was quit. the only person who could make all your problems go away was Mason, your boyfriend of 2 years who made your whole world complete.

you had moved to Manchester with Mason when he got signed for man united almost a year ago and you had thought the job would have gotten better by now but it has gotten worse. the drive home was slow, filled with traffic and idiots that don’t know how to drive and when you finally pulled into the drive way to your house you felt relived.

but knowing that you would have to go back there tomorrow made you anxious. you grabbed your bag and got out of the car and locked the car door before going into the house. you were greeted by the smell of Masons cooking, you took your coat and shoes off before making your way through the house and saw him with his back toward you facing the stove.

he could hear your footsteps as you approached him and he smile slightly, he had seen how stressed you had been recently and he wanted to do something special. he felt your arms go around his waist and your head rest against his back. “hey sweetheart” he said, his voice soft and filled with love. you mumbled ‘hey’ and sighed.

he turned around to face you and kissed your forehead gently. his arms went around your neck and you hugged him tighter. just being in his presence made you calm, it was like his aura was able to make you feel better. “how’s your day been?” you just shook your head at his question, he already knew the answer. he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help you, you were too proud to let him provide for you but you were too scared to leave this job incase no where else would hire you which was stupid, anyone would be lucky to have you.

“that bad huh?” he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly, you nodded. “why don’t you go sit down, relax, go have a shower hmm? dinner will be ready once you’re out.” you sighed “you trying to say i smell or something?” you joked making him laugh and give you a gentle squeeze. “i was trying to be subtle” he joked back making you laugh for the first time that day. it was crazy that you could go a whole day at work and not laugh once, the place was draining. you let go of Mason, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before you made your way upstairs for a shower.

-♡-

“here you go angel” he placed the spaghetti bolognaise in front of you as you sat at the dinner table. it was your favourite meal and Mason made it the best. he sat down next to you, the table was decorated with two candles, flowers in a vase and there was music playing in the background and you didn’t know why but you started to get emotional.

Mason always found a way to make you feel better and him doing this for you just made you feel so grateful for him. Mason had noticed that you weren’t eating straight away and turned to look at you and saw your eyes filled with tears. he put down his fork and quickly wrapped his arm around you. “what’s the matter honey? talk to me” his voice was filled with concern “i’m just-” you stuttered with a few tears rolling down your cheeks “im so grateful you’ve done this for me, like you didn’t have to and you’re just really sweet so thank you” his heart melted.

“aww baby” he kissed your forehead and shifted more towards you. “you don’t have to thank me. you’re my girlfriend and i saw you were stressed i just wanted to make you dinner, you make it all the time which is another stress on top of everything else. i was gonna leave this till later but i called your boss and i’ve got you a few days off so you can relax, you’re working too hard and you need a break honey” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly but he didn’t care.

“if you don’t leave that place eventually you’re gonna end up at breaking point and i don’t want that, i want you to be happy and you aren’t happy there and i know you say it’s wrong if you’re living off of my money but honestly i do not care. what’s mine is yours and that includes money” he felt you shake your head “i know you don’t like the thought of that but even if it is just for a few months just till you find a new job then so be it. i need you to be happy, that is my main priority right now” you sighed, he was not going to back off about this until you quit.

“okay fine, i’ll quit” he felt relieved. that job had caused you too much stress and he hated seeing you like this. “thank god baby, we need to celebrate” you laughed as you wiped your tears off of your cheeks and Mason pulled away from the hug so he could kiss you. “if i have to use your money i will pay you back i promise” he brushed you off, groaning as he rolled his eyes “baby, this isn’t about money, this is about you being happy. now eat your food please, i spent ages on it” you giggled.

you ate some and god it tasted good, you practically moaned as you ate another bite “thank you mase, it tastes so good” he nodded “yeah, it does, better than yours” your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, he laughed at your reaction “i’m joking baby, your spag bowl is, okay” you shoved him slightly making him laugh even harder. “no, i’m being serious now i am only joking” he gave you another kiss. “now, let’s seriously celebrate you leaving that job, it was shit” he went to the kitchen to get some champagne and in that moment you knew how lucky you were to have Mason, all he did was care about your happiness and you were so grateful for that.

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