#((i could kinda see the four kinda sharing a little laugh about it in private; it sucks that they have to lie to their parents))

[theheadlessgroom]

https://beatingheart-bride.tumblr.com/post/710279581633019904/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“I believe there is...” Randall murmured, brow knitting together in deep thought, a bony hand moving to his chin to briefly stroke it as he looked up to some of the higher shelves, trying to jog his memory before he moved to ascend one of the ladders, scrambling up it like some sort of scrawny, pale spider before pausing at the very top, eyes scanning the spines-where was it, where was it...?

“Ah-ha!” he laughed triumphantly as soon as he spotted his target, reaching out quickly to swipe it from its spot betwixt a few other thick-looking volumes, hanging onto it as he quickly hustled back down the ladder, saying as he returned to Emily’s side, “I-I knew I’d seen it before, I think I wanted to know the same thing, so I went looking, let’s see here...”

The book was a hefty tome, leather-bound and aged, and absolutely stuffed to the brim with notes and letters discussing the construction of the opera house, with plenty of accompanying pictures, showing its evolution from a barebones skeleton, to taking more of a familiar shape the more was added onto said skeleton, before finally graduating to the completed house, again, with plenty of photos showing that progression. Randall smiled when he saw them, but continued to flip through the pages until he landed on the page he was searching for. When his eyes landed on the list, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, I...think you’ll find it to be one you’re very familiar with,” he enthused, as he showed it to her-in particular the photos of the opera’s first company assembled on the stage, dressed in their most colorful (even in a sepia-toned photograph) regal finery, standing in the shadow of a very familiar-looking prop elephant.

Hannibal.

[britneyshakespeare]

i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.

the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.

and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.

when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.

i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.

i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!

because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?

in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.

like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.

i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.

and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.

i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.

i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.

i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.

but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.

that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.

[scaramoon]

first dates

KAEYA, THOMA, ZHONGLI, DILUC — gn!reader

genre/warnings: fluff

notes: pov me rising from my grave to post </3 also! please reblog, it helps me a lot :)

━━ kaeya;

he’s very dramatic to begin with, although it’s just for show

it takes a while to unravel kaeya, but eventually you’ll have him wrapped around your finger

so, unless you tell him otherwise, a first date with kaeya is bound to be extravagant. he only wants to impress you, he only wants the best things for you

(it’s because he doesn’t think he’s the best for you)

“my liege!” something like pride dripped from kaeya’s voice. “you look lovely tonight, don’t you, hm?”

you laughed at his default flirtatious personality, a warm smile spreading across your face. a similar one painted his. his hand found yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, giving an encouraging squeeze.

“are you ready to go?” he asked.

“of course,” you laughed.

“lets go then,” he said, giving your hand another squeeze, and then gently pulling you down a mondstadt alley.

some of the faces you saw you recognized, but many you didn’t. that wasn’t the same for kaeya — whoever the two of you passed, they would smile and wave. some would whisper to their partners or little kids would point at him.

of course, he lives in mondstadt, so people see him roaming the streets all the time. however, that doesn’t mean that people never stop and stare. especially not when they see the cavalry captain, especially not when they see you on his arm after rumors of him dating someone have begun to stir.

and then there jean, who smiled fondly from the cobblestone staircase. she had had to listen to kaeya for the past week, ever since he had finally worked up the nerve to ask you on a date. it was nice to see him truly happy for a change.

━━ thoma;

to say that thoma was determined to make his first date with you perfect was an understatement

everything had to be on point

literally changed his shoes four times

but!! hes a perfect gentleman, and although he’s nervous he manages to compose himself enough to not make a fool of himself in front of you

“after you, my dear,” thoma said. he bowed all too dramatically and motioned for you to enter through the door he was currently holding open for you.

you stepped inside to the small restaurant, taking a moment to let your eyes scan the room. there were many restaurants and things of a similar nature in inazuma, although you’d never before seen this one; thoma had said something about it being the perfect spot for a date. it wasn’t out in the open or completely private, but tucked into a corner.

the seeming warmth of the place washed over you just as thoma’s hand met the small of your back and gently guided you to step in front of him. you did so, and then followed to where his hand was pointing to seats in the corner.

you slid onto opposite sides of the booth, sharing a quick smile and an excited glance before the waiter asked for your drink orders.

thoma didn’t think you noticed the nervous bouncing of his leg, but you could. still, his eyes were filled with kindness and warmth.

“how has your day been?” he asked.

“it’s been alright,” you responded. “i was a little nervous for, uhm, well this. it’s nice though, i’ve never been to this place before.”

“surely you weren’t nervous because of me?” he pouted a little too dramatically. then, he reached across the table to grasp your hand and run his thumb across your knuckles. “you don’t have to be, especially not because of me. i mean look at you, you’re breathtaking.”

━━ zhongli;

!! perfect gentleman !!

very respectful towards you, probably brings you flowers or some sort of gift

however he’s also kinda awkward, bless him :”)

he tries!! he does, but it’s been a while since he’s had a date so just.. bear with him

the knock on your door almost surprised you. it took a moment for you to realize that the person on the other side was most likely zhongli, before you answered with a “just a minute!”

you opened your door just a moment later, seemingly catching zhongli off guard. he was startled by the sudden opening of the door, then let out a breath whenever he saw your smiling face.

“ah, there you are,” he smiled. “i was beginning to wonder if i had the wrong house.”

“sorry, it took me a little longer than i expected to get ready.”

the warm smile on his face reached his eyes as he looked to you. “please, don’t apologize. are you ready?”

you nodded excitedly, letting your door shut behind you as you exited your house. it was then that you finally noticed the rose in zhongli’s hand — it was cliché, although the fluttering of your heart didn’t seem to mind that. with a smile and a thank you, you took the rose.

zhongli then offered you his arm, which you politely wrapped your arm around. he did his best to guide you through the streets of liyue without moving too quickly, although keeping an eye on the setting sun. he didn’t want to take up your entire afternoon just showing you around liyue, after all.

if he was going to be able to steal your afternoon, he wanted to make the best of it.

━━ diluc;

i’m so sorry

he tries his best, but he still manages to screw it up

to say the least, it’s been a while since he’s been on a date, and he’s completely and utterly dumbfounded when he comes to terms with the fact that he doesn’t even know how to plan a date

diluc doesn’t remember the last time — if there even was a time — when he was running around in his room looking for a hairbrush. there was also the added fact that he wasn’t wearing pants and was instead wearing white boxers with little red hearts on them.

he huffed in frustration after taking a quick glance at then clock. curse him and his inability to function whenever he was nervous, even more so around you.

from downstairs, he swears he hears someone call his name. he couldn’t be bothered at the moment though, as he tosses a different pair of pants out of his wardrobe. he runs a hand down his face just as a knock sounds on his door.

assuming it’s his maid having finally found the pants he sent her after not long ago, he answered, “come in.”

he then remembered what he was wearing, but before he could respond, you were standing in his doorway. your eyes went wide for a moment before you hid your gaze with your hand. an apology was muttered and then you backed out of his room.

he tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks, his rapid heartbeat. he finally laid eyes on the pair of pants he was looking for — of course now would be the time he finds them. after pulling them up, he stepped over to his bedroom door.

you laughed at the blush painting his cheeks. “nice boxers.”

[theravenkin]

hc that when robin and neil are roommates in neil's last year, things get extra chaotic. i think robin probably takes to social media well (i feel like she likes things that give her a shield while still being able to be herself), so i think she'd have a snapchat where she has like most of the foxes + the three classmates she has befriended over her four years. she likes this private lil thing where she can share things that make her laugh or that just make her happy with the people she actually gives a shit about. robin didn't get the hang of actually sharing her life with other people for a while, but she's gotten a lil more comfy by her fourth year. andrew never liked being on camera anyway, but now, neil doesn't give a shit--he probably goes back to being a lil more like his true chaotic form when andrew moves away--he doesn't have that sturdy strength grounding him and keeping him together, so he's a lil all over the place this last year, especially with it being such a stressful and emotional time. robin just loves filming the weird shit he does when they're left unsupervised and sharing it with little to no context.

things robin's friends have seen on her story:

neil walking around the kitchenette preparing something at 2 AM with a huge gray cat hanging over his arm like a tea towel. caption: "sorry to the soccer girls in room 247. neil needs your emotional support cat more than you guys do"

robin films from over neil's shoulder as he types in a class discussion board post. he's replying to someone's post. you cant see what the original post was, but neil's on his like seventh paragraph and still typing furiously (yet he's dead calm). as robin zooms in you can kinda catch the word "fucking" a few times and the phrase "completely unwrinkled brain" at least once

neil laying on his back on the sofa, holding a huge math textbook open above his face like he's reading it, then dropping it straight on his face. over and over again. with an absolutely awed expression on his face. robin giggling in the background. "so neil, what are you doing again?" *neil slowing turns his head toward the camera, blinks sleepily a few times, mouth hanging open* "'s feels good." *continues*

robin and neil frequently sit next to each other on the couch, their heads tilted so that they're resting on one another, and try out different stupid filters. what they enjoy even more is face swapping with pictures in robin's camera roll, so essentially with a bunch of weird memes. robin films all of them and spams her story with them. she also saves them all to her memories and looks at them at least once a week. one time she makes neil face swap with a picture of a roblox person that looks like obama and he just quietly goes, "why would anyone do this"

video of neil standing over a blender blending a smoothie, completely zoned out, mouth breathing and everything. caption: "he's been doing this for like five minutes should i turn off the blender for him"

neil bundled up on the couch in a mess of blankets, curled around a pillow, staring into space with a pouty expression. robin asks, "what's wrong, neil?" he pouts, "...miss kevin." *snuggles into his nest a lil more* "...'n the other one."

i could probably write a bunch more of these but i can't rn. y'all please add yours i wanna hear em <33

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner. 

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back. 

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared. 

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed. 

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen. 

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together. 

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout. 

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low. 

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp. 

“Pretty good now,” he said softly. 

“Mind navigating for me?�� you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest. 

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ. 

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand. 

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen. 

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ. 

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head. 

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts. 

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg. 

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves. 

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said. 

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said. 

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss. 

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said. 

“Thank you for today,” he said softly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

[mistresspotterhead]

The American Ymbryne- Chap. 1

Alma Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: Yelling, slamming hands on a table, being outed (kind of)

Words: 1,900 on the dot

A/N: Wow, this took a lil bit. Alma doesn’t appear until the very end of this chapter, but she’ll be in the next one a lot. Everyone has been so kind, and that has helped a lot <3. Also: Miss Saker indicates the type of bird you are, not your given name. I hope you guys like this. 😊😊😊

Tags: @itsonlydana @evil-feather @merci-bitch @multimilfs @escapetodreamworld @gay-and-sad-tm @multifandomfix @romanottsmaximoff @n0thing-is-real-exe​ @theaudreymere 

(ask if you want to be added/removed)

In a strange way, Cairnholm reminded you of the Chicago loop you and your wards had just fled from. They were both very dreary, cold, and, from what you could tell from those on the ferry, the people would rather be anywhere else. 

“M-miss Saker? I’m cold.” The bundle of talking coats shivered next to you. 

“I know, Astrid. We’re almost there, though.” You sighed and looked out toward the slowly approaching coastline. Your surviving children, Elina, Alexander, Leonard, and, of course, Astrid, all huddled closer to you. You stared at Cairnholm for a while longer, until the ferryman’s voice suddenly called out.

“Alright everyone, ‘ere we are! The… lovely… Cairnholm!” He steered the small ferry over to the somehow smaller docks, and you led your children out.

“Is everyone here? Astrid, Leo, Elina, Alex?” David, Beth-Anne, Lisa, Frankie, June, Stefanie, Josef, Alice, Rosie, Reggie. You suppressed the urge to call out their names as well. 

“Yes, Miss Saker,” they called in long-suffering voices- you were very adamant about attendance. It was good to see something was normal.

“All right then. Leo, can you see where the loop is? And Alex, are there any other peculiars near?” Ah yes, your diviners. It was very lucky for all of you that they were two of those that survived the wight’s invasion of your loop. 

Your Chicago loop near the Art Institute was one of the last surviving loops in America maintained by an Ymbryne, along with your South Side, McKinley Park, and St. Louis loops, though the latter was run mainly by its older wards and reset once a week.

As of a fortnight ago, though, the Art Institute loop was the only one you had. McKinley Park was attacked by Wights and Hollows in December, with South Side following close in early January. Samuel, the sole survivor of McKinley Park, was what Syndrygasti call a Librarian. He could see hollows and alerted you to them when you were traveling to St. Louis for reset. The problem with this, though, was that Sammy was only five years old, and so frequently got distracted.

It wasn’t hard to understand- Illinois in 1975 was very colorful. Sammy was gone now, though, as were all most all of your children. Speaking of… 

“There aren’t any other peculiars on the island, Miss Saker- at least not in this time,” Alex said, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, dear. How are you faring, Leo? Have you located the loop? I don’t like being out in the open for this long.” For emphasis, Elina gave a giant, chattering shiver that was surely exaggerated.

“Indeed, but it is on the other side of the island, and the night is fast approaching.” 

You looked over and scowled at the sun; if you couldn’t get rest, then why was it allowed to?

“Well then. It looks like we’ll have to go into town.” Immediately, protests arose.

“Aw, no!”

“Come on, Miss Saker! We can make camp out here!”

“Because that sounds comfortable,” Leo deadpanned to Astrid.

“Well, it’s better than town! There probably isn’t even a hotel!”

“Actually, Astrid, that’s where you’re wrong.” Astrid looked shocked at the suggestion that she could ever be incorrect at something. “There is a hotel. It’s called the….” You took out the crumpled guidebook the ferryman had given to each tourist. “Preist Hole. What kind of hotel is called the Priest Hole?” You muttered that last part to yourself. “Anyway, off we go. Come along, single file now.”

Your ducklings dutifully arranged themselves from youngest to oldest, seven-year-old Elina closest to you and sixteen-year-old Leo at the back.

You hoped that the food was at least good.

Nope. Everything on the Preist Hole’s menu was covered with vinegar. You wondered if that was a Welsh thing or a Cairnholm thing. Maybe the owner just liked vinegar. Next to you, Elina was grimacing with every bite. On a whim, you decided to flag the bartender down.

“Hey, Kev, was it?” He grinned widely at you. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. What can I do for you ‘n yer bunch today?” 

“I was just wondering if you had some fries- sorry, chips- with less vinegar. My youngest is still picky.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll talk to Arnie ‘n see what he can whip up fer ye. He’s the cook, ye see.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” You attempted a bigger smile, but it still felt forced.

“Naw, it ain’t a problem, really. ‘N please, call me Kev. Sir sounds like I’m fifty- ‘n I’ve still got twenty years ‘fore that,” he chuckled.

“Well then, you must call me y/n.”

“Of course, ma’am- y/n, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, Kev.” This time, your smile was a small bit genuine- his hesitancy was endearing.

“Yeh. Well, um, I’d better talk teh Arnie now. I’ve kinda been lingering here for a while.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from work, anyway.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object if yeh did,” Kev concluded, winking before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid started chittering.

“Ooh, was that flirting I saw, Miss Saker?” You rolled your eyes, and Alex guffawed into his water.

“Miss Saker? Flirt with a guy? I think Elina would drink an entire bottle of vinegar before that happened.” You turned your head sharply in his direction, but not before Astrid snapped back at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You jerk your head toward her now.

“Well, Miss Saker isn’t really the type to, ah, dabble in the male gene pool.” It was like you were watching tennis, really, with all this head-turning.

“That doesn’t make any-”

“ENOUGH!” You stood up, placing your hands on the bar. “This is not a discussion we are having, especially not here and now. Alex, I told you that information in confidence, and I am severely disappointed that you have betrayed that. Astrid, whether or not I am flirting with someone, and really my love life in general, is none of your concern. Do you both understand?”

They nodded, Alex looking especially ashamed of himself.

“Sorry, Miss Saker. It just slipped out.”

You sighed and ignored all the stares you and your wards were getting because of your outburst. 

“Alright, Alex. Just… you can’t share things that people tell you privately.”

“Yes, Miss Saker.” He was quiet after that, poking at his food.

It bothered you that he had shared that information, though it didn’t seem as if the other wards had understood. Of course, Leo was the only one you would expect to, as he was sixteen, but he had been sheltered in your loop his entire life. All of your wards had, really.

Just as you were beginning to sink into your past again, Kev came out with Elina’s new plate of fr- chips.

“Here ye are, little lady. I hope you like these better.” He smiled at Elina, tugging a small one out in return. You both watched expectantly as she took a tentative bite. And another. And another. Until the plate was almost gone, and she was rubbing her stomach in contentment.

“Well, that was fast.”

“It was good, Miss Saker. I wasn’t going to let it cool.” You laughed at the disapproving look on her face.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you have a good point.” You turned to Kev. “Thank you again, sir, for-”

“Kev.”

“...right. Thank you for doing this. How much will it cost?” You were ruffled at his interruption, but he didn’t notice. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Hmm… how much will makin’ a little girl ‘n her mam happy cost? I dunno.” He smiled at you. “It’s on the house. I can see that ye haven’t had such a good day, so….”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I have the money….”

“I’m completely sure. It’s good te make someone happy once in a while.”

“Well, I truly do thank you. It also seems that we’ll need a room, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Room four was just recently vacated. It’s right up here.” He led you up the stairs, the kids trailing behind.

The room was small for five people, but it seemed like a mansion to the children, who only had their old, overcrowded loop to compare it to. There were four rickety beds, though they did seem to be clean, and a barren nightstand next to each of them. 

“Ah… I forgot that this only had four beds. I can get ye another room, or-”

“No, no, this is fine. Thank you for your help, Kev.” You subtly ushered him toward the door.

“Oh- well, if ye need anythi-”

“Yes, of course. Ta, then! Have a nice day!” You shut the door, leaving him very confused.

Alex was wheezing on the floor behind you.

“That… that was absolutely amazing Miss Saker! You are an absolute icon!” 

What in Abaton does that mean? You never could understand the new slang terms that the 1970s held. 

Elina yawned, setting off all the other children and alerting you to their needs.

“Alright then, time for bed.” Immediately, they were completely awake.

“I’m not tired at all, Miss Saker, therefore I shan’t be able to fall asleep.” 

“The fact that your accent is coming out very strongly tells me that you are indeed tired, Leo.” You crossed your arms. “Bed. now.” Your wards slouched, and grudgingly picked out a bed each.

“Miss Saker, where will you sleep tonight?” Astrid asked as you were tucking her covers in.

“On the floor, of course. Now, did you remember to take off your gloves?”

“But it won’t be comfortable! The floor is so hard and cold and dirty and-”

“Your gloves, Astrid.” She was very talkative, even late at night, though you had come to enjoy it. Sometimes.

She took off the gloves that helped control her peculiarity and was about to start chattering again when Elina suddenly spoke up from her bed in the corner.

“I could make you a nest with a spare blanket, Miss Saker?” You gave her one of your very rare genuine smiles.

“That would be lovely, Elina.”

“Wait- how did she know you were going to sleep in bird form?” Alex asked, finally catching on. You smiled again at Elina and kissed her on the forehead.

“She’s made me a little nest before when I fall asleep in my study while in bird form.”

“And that happens often?”

“Surprisingly so. Now, snuggle in and no more talking.” As the children said their goodnights, you finally transformed into your bird form; a stunning saker falcon. You jumped lightly onto Elina’s bed, careful not to hurt her with your razor-sharp talons or accidentally hit her with your wing (which had happened on more than one occasion). 

Though you nestled into the warm bunch of blankets right away, you didn’t fall asleep until much later, and even then, you were restless all night. 

---

Little did you know, in the old manor that you would trek to the next day, a group of peculiars and one very curious ymbryne had observed all of this. Alma LeFay Peregrine set her watch and gave the children a reassuring smile while she pondered what this meant and why her stomach had fluttered when you gave that dazzling smile.

[mystery-star]

Shipping Experiment– Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: involuntary drunkenness

Words: 3686

A/N: I got this idea when I stumbled upon a BTS picture of the AOS movie productions. Then I discussed it with @cleversturmhond​ and decided it had to be written. I know the pic is for AOS but can be read for TOS as well.

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

Being an Ensign usually meant that you couldn’t go on many away missions. So it was always something very special for you to get chosen. You only hoped that your husband had no saying in it because you wanted to be chosen because of your skills and not the fact that you were married to the Chief Science Officer and First Officer of the ship. On the other hand, if it had been Spock’s idea to take you on the mission, it probably had a logical reason, after all he always claimed that he did not make emotional decisions while on duty. Maybe you could ask him later on who had had the idea to allow you to come to the mission.

For a reason you were surprised to learn that the aliens that lived on the planet were very friendly because so far you had usually only heard stories of how the landing party had been almost killed or abducted by the inhabitants of the planet. The natives even invited you for dinner and the Captain immediately agreed. You on the other hand didn’t know if it was such a good idea to just eat foreign food, what if it was poisonous for you? Sure, Kirk claimed that the alien’s physiology was not that different from your own but it still was no guarantee that the food would not hold and unpleasant surprises.

Unfortunately, the meal tasted a bit bland but otherwise it was very good and you ate a lot, probably more than usual. They even served some kind of ‘dessert’, just that it consisted of a bitter drink. After the meal, you were allowed to watch some kind of welcome dance the natives did for you and also encouraged all of you to dance as well. To your surprise, even Spock joined them a bit later, but probably only because four of your hosts were pulling on his arms and trying to get him up and on the dance floor. With determined steps he came over to you, offering you his hand

“Do you mind?”

“I’d love to” you said, taking his hand and placing the other hand on his shoulder. When you had first seen what a skillful dancer he was, you almost couldn’t believe it. Even less that he had never taken dance lessons in secret and just seemed to be a whiz kid, like at everything else. Not that you minded though, it was something you loved about him, how good he was at everything or how quickly he learned if something was indeed new for him. You amused yourself very much and also Spock seemed to do so. But then you saw him smile at you and in shock you let go of him “What’s wrong’” you asked.

“What are you referring to?”

“Your smile, you just smiled”

“I do not believe I did. You must have imagined it”

“Yeah sure, let’s just deny it all as if it was a shame” you said, gently taking hold of him again to continue your dance. Probably you would have just forgotten about it, if his smile had not etched itself into your memory and made it hard to be forgotten. And it wasn’t just his smile, suddenly, he also leaned his forehead against yours and pulled you closer, letting out a small sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Your definition of ‘okay’ is unclear” he muttered

“I want to know if you’re feeling as usual. Or if you think that something’s off”

“Nothing is ‘off’. I simply enjoy having you close”

“Well I take that as a compliment” you pecked his cheek. While some of the other crewmembers seemed to have had enough, Spock was still twirling you around, even more energetic than before. And at times you could have sworn to see a big smile on his face. Finally, the Captain approached you

“I didn’t know dancing made you that happy”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you’re grinning like a Cheshire cat” Spock raised an eyebrow

“You are referring to the animal from Alice in Wonderland”

“Yeah. You have something of him right now”

“Is it true?’” he asked looking at you

“Yeah you have been smiling at times But that’s okay. As long as it means you’re feeling happy that’s perfect”

“I would not call it ‘perfect’. I do not like not being in control of my emotions” you had stopped dancing by now

“So what are we gonna do? Do you want to go back to the ship?”

“Perhaps that would be a good solution. Then I can extend my meditation period”

“And leave poor (Y/N) all alone down here?” Kirk said, patting your back.

“Or I can just leave with him” you said “I kinda am getting tired from all the dancing”

“I apologize” Spock said “If you wish to accompany me back to the ship you are welcome to do so”

“Perfect” also Jim gave a nod and so your husband and you left the place after bidding your hosts goodbye and requested to be transported back to the ship. On the way to your shared quarters, Spock took your hand and squeezed it. You checked the time “It’s only 2014 hours. Would you like to do something?”

“If you do not mind I would like to engage in meditation for some time”

“Right, you said that you’d do that. I’ll just be reading something then”

-

Two hours later, Spock was still in the bathroom for meditation. But unless most times he was talking to himself. With a sigh you got up and stopped in front of the door. Of course you knew he didn’t like to be disturbed and that meditation was private to Vulcans. Yet you gently knocked at the locked door.

“Are you okay?” you asked with a quiet voice but got now answer “Spock?”

“Yes”

“Sorry for disturbing you but you were talking and I wanted to see if you’re alright”

“I am” he said “Test Object Leonard... Time: 1.28 seconds”

“What are you doing?” you asked, entering the code to open the door. You didn’t know what to say when you saw what he was doing. He had rid himself of his meditation robes and was standing at the sink in underwear, a dozen or more of origami swans or folded boats, made from toilet paper were sitting on top of the sink. In his hand, he held your lip balm, which he obviously had used to write something on the mirror “Oh Spock” you said, not sure if it was a good idea to laugh “What’s this?”

“I want to find out how long it takes until the figures are soaked with water and unfold”

“Oh well… uh” you only knew one thing. This was not normal behavior for your husband “What about your robes?” he looked at the pile of clothes, something else atypical because usually he carefully folded and put his clothes away unless he put it in the laundry box (and even for in there he did fold them a little).

“I took them off so they will not get wet”

“Well okay” you moved closer and watched, how he launched a swan called Sulu and noted that it was soaked within 1.31 seconds before noting name and the time on the mirror “Come on, you can drown more toilet paper tomorrow”

“I do not drown it. It is an experiment”

“You still can continue it tomorrow”

“Then the conditions might be different”

“Shouldn’t something be tested under different conditions?” he looked at you then turned back to his ‘experiment’, putting the next thing into the water, this time a boat called Sulu. You had the impression that he had each a swan and a boat that were named after someone of the crew. When you checked the list, you saw that also your name was at the top of the list, making you smile. “Come” you said “You can finish tomorrow. I think you have enough data for today” you pointed at the mirror

“I am not done yet”

“We continue tomorrow. I’ll help you” he looked at you

“Then I can get started with the report now”

“Or we go to bed. It’s late”

“I usually write my reports at around that time”

“Yeah but usually don’t soak toilet paper figures in the sink either. Let’s go” he looked at you

“No!” he said, rather fiercely, making you wince

“Spock!” you insisted “I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you are not alright right now. So let me get you to bed or I’ll call McCoy”

“He will be off duty by now” he grabbed the next swan but you took hold of his wrist.

“I can just call med bay. I bet you’d hate someone else looking at you even more”

“I do not need a doctor, I am fine”

“Don’t you usually not use the word fine because it has no logical definition just like ‘okay’?”

“It does, I only tried to make it clear to you by using your vernacular” still he started a lecture of the different meanings of the two words, depending on the context. You sighed and gently tried to lead him away from the sink and to your surprise and relief he complied. As long as he was talking, you could get him back to your bed room and hand him his sleeping shirt which he put on without further ado. But then he was done with his explanation and the started behaving like a kid again, refusing to but on his pajama trousers and insisted he had to continue his experiment.

“No you don’t. If you go back into the bathroom, I’ll throw all your boats and swans into the toilet and flush them” he stared at you and his mouth fell open slightly. You couldn’t hide a grin

“I will make new ones” he said and left for the bathroom

“No!” you shouted and wrapped your hands around his waist, trying to stop him. But since he was stronger than you, due to his Vulcan heritage, he managed to walk to the bathroom anyways. So you let go of him and went to the intercom instead, contacting Med bay that they came to have a look. After all it was possible that his state could be dangerous. You were quite certain it had to do with something that happened on the planet, probably something he ate or drank. When you ended the communication, you saw that Spock wasn’t in the bathroom anymore. He also wasn’t in the bedroom either “Spock?” you called but you got no answer. His figures were still standing on the sink but you noticed that his lute was gone. With a sigh you started the computer on the desk “Computer, where is Commander Spock?” you asked, not wanting to search him. Besides, he could be everywhere.

“Commander Spock currently is in recreation room 3 on deck 5”

“Oh” you said and left your quarters hurrying there as fast as you could. The scene you saw did shock you but you still had to pull back to not start laughing. It was even worse than what you had seen in the bathroom in your quarters. Spock was still only wearing his nightshirts, boxers and was sitting on one of the tables, seeming to be tuning his lute. And of course he was not alone in the rec room and almost everyone was staring at him or you “Spock!” you hissed as you slowly approached him “What are you doing, honey?” you placed a hand on his arm

“I am not making honey” you rolled your eyes

“I can see that. It wasn’t a question. I meant you by honey”

“Why?”

“You’re not in a state to discuss this. Come, let’s go back. You still have your experiment to finish”

“I am off duty” he said trying out his lute again.

“Well then we just go to bed. Or are you hungry again? Just let’s get you out of here. People are watching” you said quietly. At that, his head shot up and he glared at the people in question and they were quick to look away or pretend to focus on something else. You sighed “Come on. We can come back when you put pants on” he looked down his legs “Yes, you’re only wearing underwear”

“That is not underwear” he gestured at his shirt

“Yeah. But this” you pointed at his boxers. Come” you offered him your hand but he slapped it away, putting a foot on his table and started to play on the lute.

“I would like to play you a song”

“You can do this when I’m in bed. Because I’m very tired” you faked a yawn “Then you can help me fall asleep. How does that sound?”

“As if you think my song is boring” he pouted and you shook your head.

“That’s not what I meant. But it is very calming. And it’s been a long day. Are you not tired?”

“I am Vulcan”

“That doesn’t answer the question” he didn’t say anything and you sighed “Fine” you pulled your hand back and gave a nod, walking over to the intercom to contact Med Bay again because the doctor had to come here and not your quarters. You probably didn’t’ have the strength (or will) to bring your husband back to his quarters. When you were done, you also contacted the Captain to tell him what was going on and to let him know that maybe Spock wouldn’t come to work tomorrow

“What do you mean by ‘behaving odd’? Is it a Spocksih odd we’re used of him or odd odd?”

“Odd odd. Unless he’s sitting on the tables in rec room just wearing his boxers and playing his lute each day”

“No, you’re right that is odd. When did he start behaving like that?”

“I don’t know. He went mediating when we returned. But maybe his smiles on the planet already had to do with his situation”

“Did you let McCoy know?”

“He’s got off, so I contacted Med Bay”

“Very well. Do you need help?”

“Are you already back?”

“Yeah, we all are by now”

“Oh okay. But no, I called for a doctor he’ll help me to bring Spock back home”

“Perfect” you turned around to your husband

“Oh fuck”

“What? What is he doing now?”

“No idea”

“How do you mean that?”

“Because he’s gone. He’s not here anymore”

“Do you need help searching him?”

“Only if you don’t mind”

“My friend and First Officer is running around the ship drunk and half naked. Of course I can make time to search him”

“Good” you quickly discussed where you would go looking (respectively that you’d ask the computer for his location again) before contacting Med Bay yet another time to let them know that you had lost your husband again. Then you went to the next computer to hear his location. As it seemed he currently wasn’t in a room but was still underway to wherever he was heading. That was if he had a place he wanted to go. As you followed his path, you stopped to ask a computer again and when you heard where Spock was, you sped up even more. He had gone to the Pharmacology lab and in his state you had no idea what he’d do and he could get himself killed if he did something wrong. When you arrived at the lab, two people of sickbay were already there, talking to your husband. “What’s going on?” you asked, taking your husband’s hand.

“Your explanations made me realized that something is indeed wrong with me. I was trying to find something against it” he gestured at two small vials in front of

“Did he take anything?”

“No, luckily not” the nurse said while the doctor ran a scanner over Spock

“Is he okay?”

“No” Spock replied, making you squeeze his hand. To your surprise he pulled you closer until your head was resting against his chest. Suddenly he let out a yelp and when you looked up you saw how the doctor had injected a hypo into Spock’s neck. At the same time as your husband you asked what it was and were told that it something that would help him calm down a bit. The nurse then continued explaining that everything was alright so far and he just seemed drunk. So you should just take him back to your quarters and let them know in case something happened. With a grin you shook your head.

“What did you do huh?” you nudged his arm, making him glance down at you

“I did not take anything”

“On the planet. But you couldn’t know. We all didn’t. Now let’s get you to bed and tomorrow everything will be better” also Kirk now arrived in the lab and was asking what was going on, whereupon he received a briefing from the doctor.

“And he’s fine now?”

“He’s always been fine. But (Y/N) should keep an eye on him, just in case. But I don’t think something will happen. I’d take some blood but I have the impression that in his state he will not allow it”

“What if you wait until the sedative you gave him works?”

“Of course we could but as far as I can see he’s fine. Just not used to being drunk. I only thought we could find out what put him in that state. Maybe we’ll have to take some blood if he gets worse which he shouldn’t”

“Okay, that’s great to hear” you said with a nod and when you saw, how your husband slightly slackened you took hold of his arm

“It’s starting wo work” the nurse commented and you tried to lead him back to your shared quarters which you only could when also Kirk took hold of him and helped you. Together you more or less dragged Spock back to your quarters and after asking if you could manage, the Captain left you.  Spock pulled you to the bed, sat down on its edge and after you were in his lap, he embraced you tightly.

“Careful” you muttered “Don’t forget how strong you are and your thousand lectures about how you could snap all my bones just like that” he didn’t reply but nuzzled the side of your neck. “How about you let me get ready for bed and then we can lie down and cuddle until we fall asleep?” again he did nothing so you let out a sigh “Aren’t you tired?”

“Not very much. However, I wish to hold you longer”

“You can also do that when we’re trying to fall asleep?” now his arms disappeared and you got up, getting out of your clothes, when you heard the bathroom door close. “Please just don’t continue your experiment” you muttered as you put on a top for in the bed. You sat down on the bed, taking out a PADD to read an article before Spock returned but again he stayed in the bathroom. After fifteen minutes you put your device aside and knocked at the door but got no answer, so you opened it. You had to cover your mouth to not burst out laughing. He was cuddling his robes he had discarded earlier against his chest and was fast asleep on the bathroom floor. Of course you knew that you wouldn’t be able to bring him back to bed so you returned to your bedroom, got your blanket and spread it over him. For a while you stood there, looking down at him and considering if you should join him or spend the night in bed before you sighed and grabbed your pillow to lie down beside him as well.

-

It was one of the first times in your marriage that you woke up before Spock. But knowing he’d probably be awake any time, you waited for him with breakfast. When he appeared in the door frame you had to bite back a chuckle because you had never seen him so disheveled.

“Morning” you greeted, putting your PADD aside

“Morning, (Y/N)” he replied with a nod. “I cannot find a logical explanation why I have woken up in the bathroom”

“Because you fell asleep there. Bam, logic” you got up and walked to the replicator “Water or tea?”

“Then I cannot recall why I would have chosen the bathroom floor as suitable place to spend the night”

“Oh well I can’t answer that either. But I might have an idea”

“That is?” he asked, walking to the bed to put the blanket on it, of course folding it neatly before taking a new uniform from his wardrobe.

“You don’t remember?”

“I am not certain I understand what you are referring to”

“Well” you grinned, getting your own breakfast, “I guess I’d better tell you before Kirk surprises you with made up stories about your half-naked adventures in the rec room. Come to think of it, you might want to make sure he doesn’t find the video”

“Which video?” if he hadn’t been shocked before he definitely was now. The intercom beeped and Spock answered it

“How’re you doing, druggie?”

“I do not understand your reference”

“You don’t remember? Pity, I’d love to see your face. I could tell you everything but I guess that (Y/N) knows a few more details. In fact I’d love to hear the whole story. Anyways, I just called to let you know I pulled a few strings to let you take off this morning, Spock”

“I do not see…”

“And I don’t care. I won’t let you come to the bridge. Oh and Bone’s awaiting you in Med Bay he said” the call ended and Spock looked at you as if he was lost.

“It seems there something you should tell me”

“Yeah” you gestured at his chair “I know Vulcan got nerves of steel, not anatomically, but you might better sit before I start”

-

Taglist: @softsapphicideals

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part II

[ previous ] 

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 10.2k

Warnings: specific character attributes (not appearance, mentioned favorite color, movie, etc.), oral, rough sex, multiple orgasms, Erwin is kind of annoying, semi-exhibitionism, too much testosterone  A/N: And, here we go again. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part and told me about it. This one’s for y’all~

Mike immediately notices when you start to avoid him. You had already been doing it, but now it's to the point of ducking into buildings you have no business being in and walking a little too briskly when you catch sight of him somewhere on campus. You also won't get anywhere near the Pi Kappa Alpha house.

 And, he gets it. He fucked up that night. Or, he didn't fuck up, but he opened up. Too much. Showed that he was willing to be vulnerable, and you obviously had not liked that. 

 The first week of watching you duck and cover from afar isn't so bad. He's a little bummed, yeah, but he figures you'll come around, if not for him then at least for his dick. 

 But, one week turns to two, and Mike gets irritated, a little angry even. Because it's not like he did anything wrong. It's not like you haven't wanted it every time. 

 He doesn't know your class schedule exactly, but he does know when you get out of your 11 AM and have to cross the courtyard to your dorm. It's where Mike caught you last time when he was playing frisbee with Nile, and it's where he catches you now. 

 Your speed walking is no match for his normal stride, and he easily closes the distance between you two and grabs your wrist to tug you toward a more private area by the library. 

 "What the fu—what are you doing?" You spit, pulling yourself free. 

 "What are you doing?"

 "Trying to get to my fucking room to nap! Is that okay?" 

 Mike ignores it, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then asks, "Why are you avoiding me?" 

 Scoffing, you mumble an unconvincing, "I haven't been avoiding you."

 "Bullshit."

 "I've just been busy, okay? Midterms are coming up, and I'm falling behind…" He can tell you're lying by the way you can't meet his eyes. "I need to focus."

 "Am I that big of a distraction?" 

 You don't miss a beat—"Yes," and your eyes widen at your own answer like you're surprised by it. 

 Mike raises his eyebrows, taken off guard, and you try to cover your tracks. "I mean, like, I don't have time to be fucking frat boys. And, I know you have the pick of the litter, so it's not like you'll go without." 

 He has to bite his tongue, a confession right on the tip of it—I pick you—but knows that's the last thing you want to hear. It's too early for thoughts like that anyway. You're too closed off, and he's too transparent. It's not like anything serious could work out anyway, and even if it could, he shouldn't tie himself down. 

 "I mean, yeah, but—"

 You hold a hand up, take a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You seem like an okay guy, but you should find some other girl to do this with. I don't wanna be another notch on your bedpost—"

 "Then, don't be. We can just hang out."

 "Yeah, we tried that at the party and still ended up sleeping together."

 "We can make it a rule then." He's trying too hard, he knows, but he can't help it. "No fucking. I won't come onto you, and you won't come onto me."

 You snort and pick at the hem of your shirt, obviously not buying any of this. "Why do you wanna be friends so bad anyway? Is it the hard-to-get thing? Is it that I'm making it difficult?"

 "Maybe but not entirely."

 Why does he want to be your friend so badly? You haven't given him any real reason to. You can bond over nerd shit here and there, but other than that, you don't have a lot in common. 

 You just seem… Cool. Aloof. Like you don't give a shit about anyone or anything, and Mike never thought he'd find that attractive in a girl, but apparently he does. 

 "Just come over one more time. We can watch something again or—"

 "I'm not going into your room again!"

 "You don't have to," Mike says, speaking with his hands to emphasize his point. "We can stay in the living room. Totally public. Any of the guys could walk in."

 "Has that ever stopped any of you before?"

 Not a hundred percent of the time. Mike has definitely seen more of Erwin and Gelgar than he'd like, but he can tell a little white lie.

 "Yes." 

 You stare up at him, a skeptical look on your face, and then, "I'll see if I can pencil you in." 

 "Fuck yeah, I promise I'll show you a good time without, like, showing you a good time." 

 "Yeah, whatever." 

 You're unimpressed, turn to walk away, but Mike is feeling a little too triumphant, a little too bold, and catches you before you can get too far. 

 He premises, "Just to get it out of my system," then bends down and kisses you. Palms covering your cheeks, fingers curling around the back of your head kisses you. He uses both of his thumbs, just under your mouth, to part your lips so that he can slide his tongue past them, and you push at his chest half-heartedly, no real force to it as you let him lick into your mouth. 

 The first whimper that escapes you is what makes you break away, your hands stronger against him to shove him back, and Mike smirks when you glare at him. 

 "You're on thin fucking ice, Zacharias. Thin ice."

 "I'll keep it in mind."

 With that, you leave the little alcove the two of you were in, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Mike just watches the sway of your hips and licks his lips. 

 *

 You come over on a Saturday afternoon. Mike can tell you've tried to make yourself look not cute in loose, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it doesn't work. Mike still smiles, and you still roll your eyes at him before kicking your shoes off by the door. 

 "Okay, so what are we doing?" You ask, sitting two cushions away from him on the couch. 

 "I brought my Switch in here, so we have that…"

 "Oh, do you have the SNES games downloaded?" 

 "Dumb question. Of course I do."

 "Rude. Open that shit up."

 He does, and you demand to play Donkey Kong, which Mike has no problem with, but, "A please would be nice."

 You click your tongue, holding your hand out for the second tiny controller and tell him, "You don't get to hear me beg anymore."

 Mike feels his shorts tighten, but all he does is kick a foot over his thigh and warn you, "Best not test my self-control like that."

 "Is that a threat?" You laugh, toggling down to 'Two Player' on the screen and clicking it. 

 "Not a threat." He bobs his head to the theme music. "Just lettin’ you know."

 You get as far as Mine Cart Carnage together, but Mike ends up getting tossed from the cart, leaving you to take over as Diddy. He watches the way you move with your character, sitting up straighter, raising the controller to your chest, swaying one way then the next as if your body is tied directly to the game. 

 Erwin walks in a little while later when you're focused on Stop & Go Station. He sits down in a plush chair, phone in his hand that he ignores in favor of asking, "What are you guys doing out here? Shouldn't you be in Mike's room?"

 Mike glances at him, gives him a look and shakes his head, but you're much less subtle when you snap, "Can it, Smith," eyes never leaving the screen. 

 "Don't count on that," Mike snorts. "I think it’s physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut for longer than four seconds." 

 "Wooow," Erwin drawls, thick eyebrows high in offense. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now you're just talking shit right in front of me."

 "For some reason, I get the feeling your ego can't get bruised that easily," you muse out loud. 

 "I'll have you know I can be very sensitive," Erwin informs you matter-of-factly. "I have a heart. I have feelings. And, I've been told on multiple occasions that I'm more considerate than most men, so there."

 You laugh, a silly sound that gets stuck in your throat. "Oh, really? And how many of those women—'cause that's what they are, I'm sure—were left behind after they built you up like that, hm?"

 Biting both of his lips, Erwin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I plead the fifth on that one."

 "Uh huh, that's what I thought."

 While you're fixated on the screen, Mike glances over at his friend, sees blue eyes shining as Erwin stares at you, a tell-tale smirk on his face. He's amused by you. Interested, even. 

 You stay for about an hour longer before going back to the dorms. As soon as the front door shuts, Mike swivels around and points a finger at Erwin, uttering a low, "Don't you dare," that makes the blond chuckle. 

 "Wouldn't dream of it."

 *

 You mostly hang out on weekends and only in small bursts. Alternating between movies and video games, it's a little hard to speak to one another, but Mike is still able to pry some information out of you and share more about himself. 

 You're majoring in geological and earth sciences while Mike is working toward a degree in environmental science— "Kinda weird we haven't run into each other before." 

 You played basketball for a year in high school before getting annoyed by the other girls. Mike, on the other hand, made some of his best friends on his old soccer team. 

 You had a ferret growing up and now you'll "Never get another pet again 'cause when he died, I died a little with him." (It's the first time Mike has ever seen tears in your eyes, but you blink them away at record speed). He tells you about the dogs his family has had and how the one at home with his parents now is actually his. (Her name's Scout, and I would take a bullet for her.") 

 Hitch is your best friend even though she irritates the shit out of you, and Mike says something similar about Erwin. "He's a good guy. He's just… Passionate about so many things. He gets obsessive. Drives me insane."

 "Obsessed with that pussyyy," you joke in a deep, stupid voice. 

 Mike snorts, "Perv," and keeps watching the movie that's playing. 

 And, speaking of movies, your favorite Disney film is The Fox and The Hound— "Good taste," while his is Lion King— "Classic." As far as other movies, though, the two of you spend half an hour arguing over which Mel Brooks is the best, end up having to agree to disagree (Young Frankenstein vs. High Anxiety).

 Your favorite color is green. Your favorite food is pizza (“What are you, twelve?”). Your favorite animal is the pangolin. They’re all little facts that Mike stores away, and by the end of the semester, he actually feels like he kind of knows you, and somehow, against all odds, you've managed to not hookup through it all. 

 That's not to say it hasn't been hard (that he hasn't been hard). Sometimes you come over in skin tight jeans or crop tops, outfits that accentuate your body in all the right ways, and Mike is pretty sure that you do it on purpose. 

 You're both careful not to drink too much at parties, aware of the likely consequences, but you hang around him enough to gain people's attention—jealous girls watching in disappointment, curious guys sizing you up. 

 Questions inevitably arise. You complain about Hitch pestering you for details that you will not give her, and he tells you how he has to keep brushing off his brothers. 

 "She doesn't, like, know we've had sex—would never fucking leave me alone if she did. But she and all her other little friends are so annoying about it."

 You're on the steps outside of the frat house, jackets zipped up, nursing steaming cups of cocoa you got from the nearby shop. 

 "So, what do you tell them?" Mike asks. 

 You shrug your shoulders. "That we're not fucking. Just friends. They don't believe me, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it, dammit."

 Mike laughs through his nose and takes another drink. "I mean, it's not a lie since we're not fucking and we are friends."

 You make a high pitched noise, doubtful, challenging. "Friends is a strong word."

 "Whatever." 

 He's used to you doing that now, denying him every chance you get even in a joking way. You've never once admitted to any type of feelings out loud, and he isn't sure why, some kind of avoidance behavior, but he won't complain because he knows you're at least a little fond of him. You wouldn't keep spending time with him if you weren't. 

 Deciding to change the subject, Mike prompts, "So, Erwin's party over the break," and you glance at him over your cup with interest. "You're coming, right?" 

 "I don't know. Isn't it at, like, his ranch house in bum fuck nowhere?" 

 "Kinda. It's only about a two hour drive from here, but it's definitely off the beaten path."

 "I'll have to see. Need to spend time with my mom while I can." 

 Understandable. He's looking forward to seeing his own parents (and Scout, of course). 

 The last game of the season is played and won, then finals pass after too many all-nighters and too much Red Bull. Mike actually sighs in relief when he slides into his white Wrangler, all packed up and ready to make the drive back to his house. 

 He sends one text before pulling out onto the main road—Be safe—and hopes he won't have to wait an entire month to see you again. 

*

 Staying with your mom is nice but always slightly depressing. The house is empty with just her in it, less lived in than ever before. You can tell exactly which spots she spends most of her time in—her office to work and the couch in front of the TV to wind down. 

 You sleep in your old bedroom, spend most evenings texting Hitch after your mom goes to bed, but a few conversations with Mike slip in too. He sends you several pictures of Scout—beautiful but always wearing one of those perpetual Boxer frowns—and in return, you send him pictures of the pretty betta your mother has in her office. It's the best you can do. 

 After a week of being in your hometown, you're ready to leave it again. It's not terrible or in a bad part of town. It's just… lacking. You'd never tell your mother this, but you have a feeling she knows. It's probably why she doesn't put up a fight when you tell her you're gonna run off for a couple days to attend Erwin's party. 

 "I promise I'll be back. It's just one night and then the drive back."

 Her tone is very serious when she tells you to stay out of trouble, but then she walks you out to your car and hugs you, watching and waving as you drive away. 

 You text Erwin on the way there to ask if it's okay to arrive early—like a few hours early cause I needed to get out of my house—and he replies enthusiastically.

 Absolutely! Mike and Levi are already here 😃

 You have no idea who this Levi is outside of hearing Erwin mention him a few times, but you very quickly find out when you get to the large but secluded house. You see Erwin's stupid (gorgeous) vintage Mustang parked in the gravel driveway as well as Mike's white Jeep and an unfamiliar, black Prius. 

 All three of them are on the porch occupying outdoor chairs that probably cost more than your fucking dorm expenses, but Mike and Erwin both stand when you make your way up the sidewalk. Staying seated, or really sprawled out with his hands behind his head, is a fairly small man (boy, maybe) with inky hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s dressed much differently than the other two, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and a striped long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved band tee. 

 “What in the e-boy fuck…” You mutter to yourself, nodding at the blonds and letting Mike take your backpack—not that you really have a choice considering your grip on it is no match for his. 

 “Was the drive okay?” He asks, swinging the bag over his shoulder and making it look incredibly small. 

 “Yeah. Once I hit the backroads I could start going, like, eighty-five, so that shaved some time off.”

 Mike snorts. “You sound like Erwin. Dude’s always speeding.”

 “Don’t fucking start with me. I was in the car with you when you almost hit a pedestrian on a crosswalk.”

 “We don’t talk about that.”

 Everyone follows Erwin inside the house. It’s just as nice as you thought it’d be, sprawling and open with wood floors, plush furniture, and rustic decorations. There are moose antlers mounted in one room and a god damned bear head in another. It makes you roll your eyes, but to say you’re unimpressed would be a flat out lie. 

 “Not everyone is staying the night, but I know you have to, so just pick an upstairs room,” Erwin tells you after the grand tour. “I can take you around on the golf cart once you settle in.”

 You see Mike roll his green eyes and amend, “We can take you around.” 

 “Yeah,” Erwin nods. “That’s what I meant.”

 Levi is making a face up at Erwin, furrowed brow, squinty eyes, and a little grimace. He hasn’t said more than two words to you since you’ve arrived (“I’m Levi.”), but he doesn’t seem like the chatterbox type, a little more standoffish, and you can’t blame him for that. 

 “Just in case you’re wondering, I’m in the middle room,” Mike tells you with a grin.

 “And why, pray tell, would I be wondering that?”

 He basically sings in his deep voice, “No reason,” then walks back downstairs with Erwin and Levi, leaving you to make yourself comfortable. 

 You take the bedroom at the far end of the hallway out of spite more than anything, but you figure the farther away you can be from Mike the better. After setting your things down and organizing deodorant, perfume, and every day jewelry on the dresser, you join the guys downstairs to find them huddling over the kitchen island talking about plans for the night. 

 “Should we get a keg? It won’t be that many people, but it might be easier to just pour from one,” Erwin thinks out loud. 

 “Don’t bother getting a keg if it’s gonna be the same shitty beer you guys have at Pike parties,” you chime in, hip checking Mike so that he’ll scoot over and allow you join their little meeting. 

 Levi lets out a little laugh, the most expressive you’ve seen him so far, while the other two pout at your criticism. 

 “Why don’t you pick the beer then?” Erwin prompts. “Since you have such refined tastes.” 

 Eyebrows lifting, you laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a smartass in the house tonight.” The blond smirks and dusts off his shoulders, making Mike groan in either annoyance or embarrassment. You can’t be sure which one. 

 “Fuck, is this what it’s always like between you three?” Levi asks, looking between all of you. “Just constant bickering?”

 “More or less.”

 “That seems exhausting.”

 “It is,” you confirm. “‘S’why I can only hang out with them in small doses.”

 “Ouch.”

 “Wounded.”

 “Anyway,” you let your head hang so that all they can see is your shoulders shaking as you giggle, and when you look back up, you make sure that the smile is mostly wiped from your face. “I’m not saying I’m some kind of beer expert, but I at least know that the shit you serve at parties is rancid.”

 “And yet, you always seem to forget,” Mike teases. “I always end up having to finish yours.”

 “You don’t have to. You choose to, you fucking alkie.”

 It’s hard to come to any sort of decision with the non-stop push and pull of the conversation, and eventually Levi just walks away to let the three of you work it out. Erwin orders a keg of Rolling Rock, says something about, “Dad won’t mind me splurging a little since I downsized this whole thing for him,” and you scoff at him. 

 He’s well aware of his privilege, talks about it in an ironic manner that’s both maddening and hilarious— “Father is going to let me take the yacht out this weekend,” and, “Oh, that’s not country club appropriate.” It makes you laugh every fucking time, but it also usually earns him a smack or two. 

 The next few hours are spent gathering party supplies and getting the house ready (as in moving some furniture around and hiding valuables). Erwin leaves to pick up the keg after assuring the vendor on the phone that he can drive to them and pay extra for the short notice. You don’t know how he manages it, but you assume his confidence has a lot to do with it.

 Only about twenty people are supposed to come, “An Erwin Smith exclusive,” Mike jokes with you as you stash a couple of vases in the kitchen cabinets. 

 “Oh, does that mean I’m special?” You play.

 “Absolutely.”

 There’s something churning in your gut as you move around downstairs with Mike and Levi, an omniscient feeling, like you know how the night will end, but you’re going to fight it every step of the way. You’ve made it this long without a slip-up, and you’re determined to make it one more night. 

 Erwin gets back with about three hours to spare. He and Mike disappear to change into what you assume to be their usual douche-y attire, and you and Levi sit alone in the large living room waiting quietly. 

 You’re surprised when he speaks first, stating, “You don’t seem the sorority type.”

 Turning, you try to make sense of it, respond, “Well, I’m not.” You’re almost offended that he’d even consider you were.

 “Then what are you doing hanging around with those frat boy fucks?”

 “Oh, that.” You sigh. “Uhh, my friend made me go to one of their parties, and I just… Made an impression, I guess.”

 “You fucked one of ‘em, didn’t you?” Levi is smirking, so sure of himself that you don’t really see the point in denying it.

 “Yeah.”

 “Rich boy or the giant?”

 You look over at him, defenses rising like they did your first night in the Pi Kappa Alpha house. “The fuck is it to you?”

 Holding his hands up, Levi chuckles, “Alright, alright, forget I asked.”

 You cross your arms over your chest, stare off as you wonder if it’s actually that hard to tell. You figured it would be obvious that you’re more comfortable with Mike than with Erwin, but you have been getting more used to the other brazen blond over the last few months, just like you’ve been getting a little more used to Nile and all the other brothers. You haven’t sucked any of their dicks, though. 

 “How’d you meet Erwin?” You try.

 You’re not surprised when Levi snarks, “The fuck is it to you?” 

 You can’t tell if the two of you are going to leave this ranch house as mortal enemies or as friends, but it’ll definitely be one of them. 

 “‘Cause you don’t seem the type to hang out with them either,” you tell him.

 It's definitely odd. He and Erwin have to go back some time to have been able to stick together through their college years and all of their superficial differences. 

 Levi admires the black polish on his nails then informs you in a bored tone, “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but it’s no big deal. Just can’t get rid of him.”

 The corner of his mouth turns upward, so he can’t be too heartbroken over it. You understand that, haven’t quite been able to shake your puppy-dog of a friend since the beginning of the semester, but you’re not as annoyed about it as you pretend to be. 

 “They certainly do get attached,” you hum.

 The two men in question join you once again, looking much more palatable in jeans and v-necks. Erwin has a button-down hanging open and rolled up to his elbows while Mike is wearing a black and white flannel in similar fashion. It’s the most casual they’ve been at a party, and you can’t help but joke, “Wow, look at you two. More human, less lizard people for once.”

 Erwin rolls his eyes while Mike mumbles a Doctor Who reference that makes you suck on the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. 

 He’s got his charm turned on tonight, the kind that appeals to you, which will definitely pose a problem.

 People start arriving at around eight, some you recognize from the college, some you don’t who you assume to be some of Erwin’s older friends. Gelgar taps the keg within minutes of walking in then plays the role of bartender for the next ten minutes as everyone lines up for a drink. There’s liquor and mixers set up on the counter, and you consider just making your usual, but you figure you should have at least a little of the beer since you’re the one who fought for the more expensive brand. 

 When you get your cup, foam nearly overflowing past the rim, you take one sip only to cough it back up when Mike shows off his usual party trick—appearing out of thin air—and asks, “You gonna finish it this time?”

 You splutter as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand then glare up at him. “I’m gonna try, but it’s gonna be pretty fuckin’ difficult if you keep making me spit up like a god damn baby.”

 He’s amused, light eyes dancing mischievously, and you know you’re in for a long night. 

 Erwin has a playlist filtering through the house’s sound system, a nice balance of several different genres playing at a bearable volume for the first time. Games start up in the kitchen, rage cage around the island, beer pong at the table, and while you’re content to just wallflower in the corner, Mike drags you into it. 

 “You’re just as bad as Hitch," you complain, but he isn't fazed, just plants you in an open spot at the island and stands right beside you. He's gonna regret doing that; rage cage is one of the only competitive games you're actually good at, but he'll find that out. 

 It's fast-paced, full of screaming and laughing, jumping and shoving. You get to slam your cup into Mike's on several occasions, drawing curses from him every time. 

 "Honestly, it's a little embarrassing," you ridicule with a smile. 

 He downs the small amount of beer in the cup he pulls, adds it to the stack, then challenges, "I'll show you embarrassing. Just wait." 

 You've had maybe two beers altogether, but it still sends a jolt down your spine. 

 The two of you play another couple of rounds, and Mike does seem to catch on a little more, but he eventually bows out and pulls you away with him. 

 More beer. Meandering around the party. It's pretty tame in comparison to all the Pike events you've attended, but the later it gets, the rowdier everyone becomes. Music gets turned up to dance. The keg stops being used for pouring and starts being used for stands. You have the absolute pleasure of watching Erwin hold Levi upside down as the smaller man chugs as much as he can. He beats Nile's record, raises his arms in victory as Erwin shakes him by the shoulders in excitement. 

 "They're pretty close, yeah?" 

 Mike looks down at you as you stand on your tip-toes to get closer to his ear as you speak. 

 He nods. "I don't really understand them, but yeah. They've been friends since, like, elementary school, I think."

 "No shit?"

 "No shit."

 You play beer pong against Gelgar and Nile, end up losing by quite a lot, and by the time you finish the remaining cups and another full drink, you're feeling good. Warm, happy, dangerously giggly. 

 Mike stands too close as you make your rounds to talk to people, many of them asking how the lacrosse season went. He puffs his chest a little, tries and fails to act modest, but instead of getting irritated like you usually do, you find yourself resting your cheek against his arm as you shake your head. You don't know if the action is to disagree with him or to get closer, but it makes Mike chuckle and shift so that he can wrap that arm around you and pull you to his chest instead. 

 He smells nice—woodsy with a sweet little bite. It makes your mouth water. You try to call back your determination from before, that readiness to fight and deny, but Mike's body is firm and massive and hot against yours, and he's also drunk and smiling sideways. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous when he peers down at you. His stubble has grown into that perfect length, the kind that feels incredible between your legs, and you can already see your hands tugging at his shaggy hair as he flips it from his face. 

 "You okay?" He rumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

 He knows. You know he knows. And, he knows that you know that— 

 Fuck. Stop. Just…

 "What do you think?" You're aware of what you're saying. The words make perfect sense. You just can't stop them from falling from your mouth is all. 

 "I don't know," Mike says, a playful lilt to his voice. "Why don't you tell me?" 

 You're not sure if he's asking for your consent or if he just wants to humiliate you by making you spell it out for him. 

 "I mean…" Your gaze travels from his face to his neck to his pecs and downward. "The semester is over."

 "It is," he agrees, hand moving from your waist to your hip. 

 "Don't really need to be, uh… What's the word…" You squeeze your eyes shut, splaying your fingers on his stomach. "Studious," you snap. "Don't need to be so studious on vacation."

 Mike very slowly starts walking backwards toward the staircase, holding you at arms length by both your hips now. 

 "No, you really don't." 

 Voice of reason fading away, you step around him but grab his hand, taking the stairs two by two until you're on the balcony that wraps above the living room. Once you slip into the closer room, yours, you lock the door. 

 Mike's mouth is familiar in its desperation—tastes like beer and want and him. He pulls his flannel off behind him by the sleeves just in time for you to start pushing his shirt up over his abs, in awe all over again at the muscle group. 

 It's really not fair. 

 You pause between kisses to strip, smiling and groaning whenever your lips meet again. You've missed it on some level—the heat, the fucking attraction you just can't shake. All the times you hung out with him, purposely keeping distance, avoiding flirting and touching and staring—you figured it would come to a head. You even guessed there was a good chance that it would be at this party. 

 But, that doesn't mean you're prepared when he throws you onto the bed, doesn't prepare you for the way he bites your lip and sucks on your neck and pinches your nipples until you moan his name and grind against him, and it certainly doesn't prepare you for the way he spreads your legs, runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, then drags his tongue over your slit. 

 "Fuck, Mike." 

 He groans, quick to slide the muscle into your pulsing cunt to taste you. His fingertips are digging into the fat of your thighs, keeping you still save for your trembling which makes the feeling of his mouth even more intense. You want to buck against his face, want to put out the fire raging inside of you by moving somehow, letting some of the energy out, but you can't. All you can do is lay there as Mike licks around your hole and nibbles at your clit and laps up your juices. 

 "Missed this fuckin' pussy," he breathes, sucking on one of your lips and then the other, pulling blood to the surface and making them puffy and sensitive. 

 You card fingers through his hair before fisting your hand in it and shoving his face further into your cunt, trying as hard as you fucking can to ride any part of him you can manage—his tongue, his nose, anything that will give you friction. 

 The sound he makes at your pathetic attempt is bestial, a low, throaty grunt as he rubs his chin up and down your slit, drenching himself in your slick and quickly overstimulating your swollen clit with his stubble. 

 "Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

 "You wanted it," he grits. "You pushed your sloppy little cunt right in my face, so now you've gotta take everything I give you." 

 You cry as he continues the motion, pussy drooling as the little bud starts to grow raw. "Mike, please, please…"

 "Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." He stops only to lean back down and suck your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue is soft in comparison to the coarse hair, but it still makes your hips twitch, and when he grazes his teeth over it, you squeal and kick. 

 It's so close to hurting, right on the edge, but it's that helplessness that has you steadily leaking on the bed. It's what makes it easy for Mike to push a finger into your clenching hole, pump a couple times, then slide another one in beside it. 

 Your climax is coiling in your gut, compressed like a spring and only getting tighter with every thrust of long, thick fingers and every measured flick of his tongue. 

 Gripping his hair again, you ride it out. Mike loosens his grip just enough to allow you to undulate in time with the waves that wash over you, and you moan loudly as he moves to flatten his tongue over your entrance so that you come on and against it. 

 He gives you some time to settle down, but you know he isn't done yet, and since you're not quite ready to take his cock in your sensitive pussy, you pull your legs from the sides of his head and crawl to lay with your head off the side of the bed. 

 Mike gets the picture immediately, and you hear a huff of air leave him all at once before he clambers off the mattress to position himself at the edge. You're a little too low, so he grabs all four pillows to shove under you, and as he does, you lavish his bobbing cock with kitten licks, going as far as sucking on his balls when he leans over you. 

 "Jesus fucking—" 

 You can feel the way they tighten, his cockhead dripping pre that lands just below the notch of your sternum. It isn't until he's thoroughly coated in spit that you stop and let him straighten, then open your mouth and relax your shoulders. 

 Mike is careful as he slides his tip past your lips, letting you adjust to the weight of his cock in your mouth before he pushes in a little further. Your eyes start watering as soon as he passes between your molars, making you stretch your jaw and drool from the corners of your mouth. 

 He pulls out then, taps his cockhead on your cheek, leaving a mix of precum and spit on your skin before lining himself up again and sliding back in. 

 He repeats the process a few times as if it'll actually get you used to his size, but it's just not possible. You gag and gurgle, slurp back drool when you're given the chance, and your entire body throbs when Mike tells you, "I'm gonna give you more now, okay? Wanna see your throat bulge with my cock."

 You moan around him, try to make the passage of your mouth and esophagus as straight as possible then let your eyes roll back as he slips into the tighter sleeve for a few seconds. Your toes dig into the bedspread, fingers clawing at the material as you fight back the panic that comes with not being able to breathe. 

 Mike pulls out panting, and you wish you could see his face, the look in his eyes, but you can't. All you can do is lap at his cock until he pushes it into your mouth again. 

 This time when he slips into your throat, he reaches down to press a hand to your neck, letting out a deep, disbelieving laugh as he feels the way his length moves in it. "Holy shit. I could—" he just barely gives you more, and your responding whine is completely muffled by him, "—Could come like this."

 The thought makes you tingle. Or maybe that's the lack of oxygen. You are feeling a little lightheaded. But the idea of him coming down your throat, right into your stomach, fuck, it makes your cunt pulse again. 

 Mike pulls out, and you suck in deep breaths, a little sob making your chest heave. Tears are streaming from your eyes, getting caught in your hair, and you have to wipe other various fluids from your face. 

 He helps you sit back up, rubs your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck as your heart rate returns to normal. As soon as he sees you relax, though, he's tugging you from the bed and bending you over it. 

 The scream that's pushed from you is hoarse as you're split open on his cock. Mike holds you by the hair, pulling your head back as he snaps his hips forward and back relentlessly. He slides in and out of you easily, but that doesn't mean he isn't stretching you to your breaking point. 

 You shake on the bed, thankful when he lets go of your head so that you can fall back to the mattress, crying and moaning all you want. 

 "Feel so good, baby," Mike groans. "So good."

 He punctuates it with a slap to your ass that causes you to squeeze him, and that only encourages him to repeat the action until both your cheeks are radiating heat and stinging from his hands. 

 He flips you like a doll, and you're finally able to see his face clearly as he stares down at you with a dropped jaw and heavy lids. You know you're a mess, fucked out and sloppy, but as he abuses your g-spot with the ridge of his cock, all you can do is grin drunkenly and let your eyes roll. 

 "So pretty when you smile," he praises. Fingers grip your chin, and when you're able to focus your gaze again you find Mike leaning over you, face level with yours. "Open your mouth for me." His tone is soft yet demanding, and you don't hesitate for a second as you do what you're told. 

 Mike pushes spit through his lips, letting it drip and stretch until it lands on your tongue. It makes you feel cheap and disgusting, but it doesn't stop you from squirting around him. 

 Devolving into nothing more than grunts and groans, Mike continues to fuck into you but straightens so that he can reach your clit better. He flicks it back and forth until your true orgasm hits you, and then he keeps going. 

 You cry out, squirm wildly beneath him, but all it results in is two fingers being shoved in your mouth. Stroking over the back of your tongue, more saliva pours from your mouth just like the slick that pours from your pussy while he toys with your clit. 

 You come again. And again. When Mike finally removes his hand from between your legs, you're nothing more than a puddle, moaning and crying for him. 

 Every orgasm has made your walls swell around him, his cock feeling longer and thicker than ever as he kisses your cervix with every thrust. That lightheaded sensation is back, white dots dancing around your eyes, and you just barely manage out his name, tapping in his forearm. 

 "Need… need…"

 "What do you need, babe?"

 Your arms curl up by your head, fingers moving and spasming as every one of your senses is overwhelmed.

  "Need you to—t-to—to come. Need you to c-come." 

 You've never had to tap out before, but you can't take him anymore. His size. His expression. His lack of fucking mercy.

 "Yeah?" He coos, but his cock is still dragging in and out of you. You nod, but Mike draws it out, asking, "Where do you want me to come?"

 "Don't… Care…"

 "You don't care?" He's still moving, fucking you absolutely stupid as he lists out, "Your face? Your tits?" He gropes your chest, pinching both nipples, and the fact that you don't even whimper must clue him into the fact that he's about to lose you. 

 Your mind is swimming, fading every time he pulls out only to be brought back online when he pushes back in. 

 "What about your pussy? Want me to come all over your pussy?" 

 You moan, the simplest part of your brain apparently finding that appealing, so after a few more thrusts, Mike pulls out entirely and jerks himself off until he covers your folds in hot cum. He gets some on your thighs, some on your pelvis, soaks your peaking clit so that you take in a stuttering breath. 

 His hand is between your legs again, fingertips spreading the viscous fluid around and dipping into your slit.

 Your eyes shoot open for the first time in God knows how long, a panicked, "M-Mike," tumbling from your lips, but he hushes you.

 "I'm not pushing it inside or anything. Just having fun."

 And, fuck, tonight is the night you learn how filthy he is. Mike spends a few solid minutes rubbing his seed over your puffy lips, fingers the raw tissue around your hole so that you leak for him, then uses it to massage your clit slowly and softly, pulling one last orgasm from you that makes fresh tears spring in your eyes. 

 You're going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you can't regret it—not when your legs continue to shake long after your climax, not when you can already feel that satisfying ache deep inside of you, not when Mike crawls to sit on the bed and lifts you into his arms. 

 "You okay?" He asks into your hair. 

 He's rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you drift in and out. You know you need to shower, but you're so tired and so wrecked, you doubt you'll be able to stand for long enough to clean yourself. 

 "Did I hurt you?" 

 "Mm, little bit," you tell him honestly. You can actually feel his heart start to beat harder in his chest, so you reassure him, "Liked it, though."

 You think something like twenty minutes pass, but you can't be sure as you keep dozing. It's hard not to with Mike rubbing your stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with every breath he takes. 

 When your eyes open more than halfway, you begin to move, grimacing at the soreness between your legs as well as the mess. 

 "'m gonna hop in the shower," you announce. 

 Mike sits up too, stretches his arms and asks through a groan, "Want me to come with?"

 "You've done enough coming tonight," you snort. "But nah, I can clean myself on my own."

 His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you get up and walk to the bathroom on shaky legs. 

 The hot water almost puts you back to sleep. You manage to rinse off where you need to, step back into the room fully expecting to see Mike passed out in your bed, but he's nowhere to be found. 

 As you crawl under the covers, you try to swallow the feeling of disappointment that's stuck in your throat. 

 *

Mike is up before almost everyone in the house the next morning, so he spends most of it trying to clean up alongside Levi, though he apparently isn't doing a very good job of it according to the smaller man. 

 "Jesus, have you ever mopped a floor in your life?" 

 "Oh, so we're just throwing everything in the same trash bag? No recycling? Your future kids will thank you for that, I'm sure."

 "No, there's no way I’m letting you wipe down the counters. Just move." 

 Levi is lucky Mike is as laid back as he is otherwise he would have thrown the little fuck into the koi pond behind the house a long time ago. 

 Erwin wakes up around nine and walks down looking a little rough, but Mike has definitely seen him in worse states. 

 "Thanks for cleaning up," he says, bent over the island and holding his head in his hands. "Pretty sure I would have thrown up if I'd tried. Several times."

 He tells the other two that pretty much everyone else started heading out at around three and that he has a list of party-goers he needs to text to make sure they made it home in one piece, "When I can actually fucking see straight."

 Naturally, the conversation turns to Mike. Erwin, with his cheek now pressed against the cool, granite countertop, smirks up at him and asks in a sly voice, "So, how was your night?' 

 Mike bites his lip to hide a smile, leans out of the kitchen to make sure you aren't stumbling down the stairs or traipsing about the house, then looks back to his friend and laughs, "Fucking mind-blowing, dude." He doesn't go into explicit detail—that's never been his style—but he does whisper about you taking him better than any other girl and that he's, "Addicted, dude. I genuinely think I am addicted to her pussy." 

 "Don't be fucking dramatic, Zacharias," you pop out behind him, slapping his back as you pass him to get to the fridge. He can see the ghost of a smile turning your lips up, but it's hard to feel satisfied at that when his own face is beet red. 

 Looking at Erwin, Mike throws his hands out by his side, mutters an incredulous, "Dude," that makes the other blond chuckle. 

 You grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, making Levi grumble, "Are none of you guys concerned about the planet? God damn."

 Standing between Mike and Erwin, you take a few gulps, all eyes on you until you swallow and question, "Can I help you?" Now that you're right next to him, Mike can hear a scratchiness to your voice, almost as if you're getting sick, but he knows better, knows exactly where it came from, and fuck if it doesn't make him twitch in his sweats. 

 "Have a good time at the party?" Erwin pries once again. 

 You look at him with a deadpan expression, then answer, "Seems like you already got the deets, so sure. I had a grand time."

 Mike isn't sure if you're being sarcastic about it just like you are everything else. You had just kind of left him hanging when you'd gone to shower. He hadn't thought too much into it even if he'd been a little bummed, but he thinks he understands. You just need more space than he does. 

 Or, it could have been that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Oh god, what if you'd just been faking? What if you'd lied to him when he asked if he hurt you? What if you're in pain right now and just hiding it? 

 Mike zones out while you talk with Erwin and Levi about plans for the day, works himself into a nice little panic but is still able to hear you tell them you're just gonna head back to your mom's. 

 "You sure?" Erwin asks. "I know you only planned to stay one night, but you're more than welcome to hang out for longer. We’ll be here for at least another few days."

 Levi adds an, "Unfortunately," that earns him a hair ruffle he swats away. 

 "No, it's cool. I can't leave mom alone for the holiday or she'll start to think I don't like staying at the house."

 "You don't, though."

 "Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that."

 Mike stares after you as you take your water bottle and return upstairs, and it doesn't escape the notice of the other two men. 

 "You're so fuckin' whipped, man," Erwin teases. 

 Mike doesn't deny it, just holds up a middle finger. 

 Erwin isn't entirely wrong, though. Mike has been trying to deny it or play it off as nothing more than lust, but there's more to his feelings at this point. He tries not to be obvious around you, to keep his cards close to his chest because he knows you just want to keep things casual—barely even want that if he's being honest. 

 So he can hide it. He can pretend it isn't happening. In fact, Mike should be thankful that you only want sex (sometimes) because it leaves him to do whatever he wants. He could fuck other chicks left and right, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That's a good thing, right? 

 That worry about last night still has him on edge, though, so before you can leave, Mike catches you in your room as you're packing up and closes the door. 

 He expects you to make some kind of comment about not being able to go again, but all you do is tilt your head to the side in a dangerously cute way. 

 "Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you felt okay after last night." 

 You blink at him, pause in folding your clothes, then show a wide, real grin. 

 "Yeah, I'm fine. Sore in various places—like, super sore—but I'm fine."

 Mike's mouth twists to hide his smirk, and he mumbles a low, "Sorry."

 "Don't ever apologize for your monster cock," you tell him, setting your shirt down on the mattress before pacing over to him. "Like, unless there's tearing of some sort, which there really shouldn't be since you're good at preparation, whoever you fuck should be okay. Sore but okay."

 His eyes go a little wide when you stop in front of him, looking up with an expression he's really never seen before—or maybe that you've never allowed him to see before—and the longer he stares, the more he realizes that you're god damn glowing. 

 Taking a chance, he finds your waist with his hands, inches just a little closer, then leans down when you stand on your toes and tug him by the shirt. 

 You taste like peppermint and already smell like the perfume you wear every day, the scent that has made Mike dizzy for the past few months. He moves a hand to your back to press your body into his, and when you take his bottom lip into your mouth, biting and sucking, he groans and pulls back before he can get too hard. 

 "What's all this? Why are you so perky this morning?" 

 "I get giddy after good sex," you say with a shrug. "Sue me."

 "That why you run away every time I fuck you?" He questions.

 You nod. "Couldn't run away this time, though."

 "I'm sure it's really bruising your pride, letting me see you all warm and gooey." 

 "I am not warm and gooey," you protest. "I was last night, but—"

 "Aw, gross, why'd you have to say it like that?" 

 You giggle—giggle—then remind him, "You're the one who felt the need to fucking fingerpaint."

 Mike vividly remembers the way your pussy looked covered in his cum, the way it felt to smear it and play with your swollen entrance and clit, and now… Now he is definitely hard again. 

 "Better stop before you end up on that bed again."

 Your eyes are dancing, tone mischievous when you respond, "Only if you're gentle."

 "Christ—"

 He's got you naked and spread on the mattress in less than thirty seconds, tongue buried in your cunt as he soothes every part of you he can reach. 

 It would be cruel to actually fuck you again. He knows you're probably a little more tender than you're letting on, so Mike settles for licking into you and flicking your clit, never using teeth as it swells in his mouth so that you pant and moan, and promise, "I can handle it, Mike, I can…"

 "I don't care if you can or can't. Just lemme do this."

 And, it's not like he hasn't pulled his cock from his pants, pumping it and coating his length in the pre-cum he drips at the mere sight of you.

 He can tell you're getting close when your thighs start to tense. You alternate between shifting your hips and going slack. It's the latter that you leak the most, pussy opening around his tongue only to clench a few seconds later. 

 "Just one finger, Mike, please, I want—I need something inside me, please, please," you moan. 

 Mike turns his face to kiss your thigh, sighing but giving in easily when he acquiesces, "Only one."

 The noise you make as he slides his middle finger into you is like music, high pitched and drawn out, with an awe one would sing hymns with. 

 "Yes, yes, yes, thank you, fuck, tha—"

 He understands why you wanted it so badly when he pulls it out and sees his finger coated in white, considers fucking you with it to the point of tears, but before he can, the door to the bedroom swings open and fucking Erwin walks in to ask, "Levi and I are going to the store—"

 “Jesus fuck, Erwin!" Mike swears. "A little busy here!"

 His friend is unfazed, but more importantly, you are too, arching your back, pulling Mike's hair to get him back where you want him, then moaning his name like you never have before as you come. 

 You tremble and take in stuttering breaths, and Mike does his best to hide your exposed pussy from prying eyes as he looks at Erwin and barks out a furious, "No, I don't need anything from the store. Get out."

 The blond shrugs and turns, walking out without shutting the door, and Mike swears he's gonna kill him. He's too bold and too entitled and now he's seen far too much of your body, and Mike doesn't like that. 

 "Did you come?" You ask in an airy voice. Mike guesses you could feel the rhythm of his hand on his cock, probably pushing his face harder against you with every pass. 

 "Uh, no. I don't know if you noticed, but Erwin walked in."

 "I noticed," you snort, sitting up on your elbows. "Why do you think I moaned your name like that?"

 "What?" It had seemed a little odd. Mike knows he's pretty good at oral, but you've never made a sound like that before. 

 "Fucker wanted to see what we were up to, I decided to show him. Now he knows how good you are."

 Mike stands, peers down at you skeptically and says, "You're being too nice to me today. It's freakin' me out a little."

 He doesn't think it's necessary to add that Erwin is already aware of his sexual prowess considering they definitely had a threesome with a rather adventurous girl back in freshman year. It's just not pertinent information. 

 "Soak it up, Zacharias. I'm sure the good mood will be gone by tomorrow."

 "Why, cause I won't be at your mom's to fuck you stupid every night?" His voice comes out cocky, but it's stifled by the way you squeal when he slaps a hand over your wet pussy.

 "I'm sensitive, you asshole!" You're smiling even as you whine. "And, here I was about to give you head to get you off."

 "I mean, you can still do that."

 You glare up at him the whole time you slide off the bed to your knees, warn, "Better hope I don't bite."

 *

 After you leave (and after making out against Mike’s Wrangler for a little too long), he goes back inside to find Erwin and Levi lounging in the den with a movie playing. He wastes no time in snapping his fingers at Erwin and commanding, "We're gonna talk."

 "Oh, are we?" Erwin doesn't even look away until Mike grabs the back of his shirt, and only then does he move from his spot. "Okay, okay, watch the wrinkles, bro."

 He follows Mike into the kitchen, out of earshot unless either of them raise their voices which… Could happen. 

 "What the fuck was that?" Mike hisses. 

 Erwin looks at him with big blue eyes and plays dumb, "What the fuck was what?" 

 Taking a deep breath through his nose, Mike makes sure his voice comes out low and steady, "Smith, I swear to God, it's been a long time since I've punched you, but you're fuckin' testing me, dude."

 Erwin smiles, face lighting up with what looks like excitement but could also be fury. 

 "Mike," he starts. "Don't tell me you're getting violent over a girl." His tone is patronizing, his eyebrows are high, and his grin is downright menacing. 

 "I haven't gotten violent yet," Mike grits. 

 "Hey, how was I to know what you two were doing up there?" 

 "It's not about you walking in, dude! It's about you just fucking standing there!"

 Erwin chuckles and blows him off, "Mike, I've seen your dick before. You've got nothing to worry about."

 "That's not what I'm worried about. You just, like, came in when she was in a vulnerable position, and that's fucked up."

 "She didn't seem to mind."

 Mike sucks his teeth, takes another grounding breath, then asks again, "Why? Why did you wait to leave?" 

 "You want me to be honest?" Erwin rolls his neck then his shoulders. Mike has seen him do that many times before lacrosse games to loosen up—to get ready for a fight. 

 Mike's fist clenches at his side. "Yeah, I do."

 "You've been making yourself crazy over this girl since the start of the semester, and I want to know why."

 "What do you mean?" Mike doesn't know why he asks, has a pretty good idea of what Erwin is alluding to. 

 The blond still dodges the question but in about the worst way possible. "It's not like you two are exclusive or anything."

 Mike feels the way his lungs fill to the point of burning, how his jaw clenches until his molars begin to ache under the pressure, and before he really knows what's happening, he's bowing up to his best friend. 

 Erwin matches him, only a couple inches shorter, chin tilted, that maddening light in his eyes. 

 "Walk away, Mike," he warns. "And, we can forget this little spat even happened."

 Mike peers down his nose at him, trying to rein in his emotions because Erwin is right. You two aren't exclusive. You don't want to be. You told him it was because you need to focus on school, but it could be that you want other options. 

 But fuck, Mike doesn't want Erwin to be one of them. He's stolen more than a few girls right from under Mike's nose with his stupid charm and stupid face and stupid money. He doesn't want you to fall prey to all of it too. 

 Mike doesn't even register the quiet footsteps padding into the kitchen, but Levi's smartass, "You guys about to kiss or somethin'?" definitely snaps him out of his head. 

 Stepping back, Mike resists the urge to punch the counter and break his fucking hand, then turns and strides out. 

 He's supposed to stay at the ranch house for a couple more days, but Mike needs to distance himself before he does something stupid. 

 When he comes back downstairs with his bag on his shoulder and his keys in his hand, Erwin seems to realize his error on at least some level and stands from his place on the couch. 

 "Mike, come on, I'm sor—"

 "Let me cool off, dude,” Mike snaps.

 Erwin shuts his mouth and sits back down, smart enough not to follow Mike outside.

[ next ]

[lunaekalenda]

i really enjoy your writing and i saw that your requests are open!

can i request a fic or a drabble about levi having a massive crush on y/n but later finds out she has a long term s/o (she doesnt really talk about her relationship) and levi tries to get over her but hes stubborn and he can’t ): BUT y/n gets cheated on by her s/o and levi is there for y/n as she heals and it becomes a REALLY slow burn kinda love (-: could be modern au or canon verse whichever you’re comfortable with

thank u sm in advance! i hope you have a great day <3

hiiii!!! thank you so much, i'm really happy knowing that you enjoy it! 🥺 and thats really cool omg!! i hope you like it and it was what you’ve asked for!!! (also I wrote a lot ajajja sorry i got inspired)

𝔠𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥

❁ levi x female reader!

❁ maybe levi cursing a bit but nothing we haven’t seen before on him lol

❁ and some kicks but again nothing levi hasn’t done before lmao

"That was a good one!" Connie congratulates you when you're again on the floor. The Titan wood figure is now divided in two parts.

"Next time, be a bit more careful." Jean says, looking to the boys that are trying to fix the figure. "I think they will have a hard time fixing it." You blushed when you looked at the boys, both with their hands in their heads. You bowed at them, saying sorry, when they looked at you.

"But that was a-ma-zing." Sasha says. They all agree and Connie looks to the sky.

"I think it's time to eat. You coming?" you moved your head from one side to other.

"No. Jurian is waiting for me to eat." Connie moved his eyebrows and Jean looked with interest.

You usually don't like to talk about your relationship, but this three were your best friends, and you basically threatened them, telling them that if they opened their mouth you would crack them.

"Oooh, then have fun." Jean says. He and Connie smile to each other.

"And try to eat something more than the other’s mouth." Connie laughed right after saying that, and your ears blushed while you walked to the other exit. They waved their hands at you and you waved yours back. You could see Jurian's hair from where you were. But a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Oi, wait."

You recognized that voice. When you turned back, Captain Levi was there, looking at you.

"Yes, Captain?"

You were clueless, but Levi's brain was trying his best to form a coherent phrase.

"You're good at it. But next time, try not to break our training models, got it?" You blushed again, remembering the accident. He looked at you, and you thought he was disappointed, but he was totally hypnotized by the way your ears started to get a red color, along with your cheeks. He cleared his throat and looked away. "Try to be more careful next time, but just in the training."

"Yes, Captain Levi." He turned around and went back to the control point, were Hange was waiting for him.

"Wow Levi, that was by far the longest interaction between you two in years."

"Shut up, four eyes"

"I have never seen you so focused on someone."

Levi clicked his tongue, but Hange was right. He had a damn crush on you since you entered the Survey Corps. But, what really caught his attention, was your innocent appearance, that later did not agree with your fierceness in battle. He fell by the grace of your body as it moved through the trees, and your sweet smile every time you come across him. Your voice is driving him crazy and just thinking of all the times you cared for him makes his heart shake. He looks behind him before leaving the control station, making sure you’re gone.

Jurian was playing with a flower when you arrive. He kisses you cheek before holding your hand.

"Did you wait too much?" he moved his head, saying no.

"It's fine, don't worry."

You two walked in silence towards the cantine, but you never ate there. Jur knows a little field apart from the training camp where you can't be seen. He brought a bag with some food, so you sit on the field and start eating.

"How was the practice?" he asks. You swallow the tea and answer.

"It was fine. Levi came to notify me for breaking a figure." he laughs quietly.

You met Jurian on your second year on the Survey Corps. You were being examinated, they were about to decide in which squad they were going to assign you. Your amazing skills on titan elimination and the control of ODMG assured you a place in the best squads: Levi's, Hange's and Erwin's. If you could have chosen, you would choose Levi's, the Special Operations Squad, but the three captains decided to put you on Hange's squad. You're happy to be there, they are really good as captain and you feel comfortable, but you're not into capture titans and experiment with them.

Jurian was also a soldier trying to enter on one of the highest squads, but he didn't pass the test. He was assigned to a little squad on charge of the food and the carts. You started talking later that day, when he told you that you were lucky to join a squad, and somehow both of you started to see each other everyday, which ended in a relationship of four years and a half. You kept this in secret, because

a) the Survey Corps members are really gossip

b) you're not a fan of showing your private life to everybody.

But, that was your error.

Once you two finished eating, Jur said he had to do some training with his squad.

"Now?" he nods "I thought all the trainings were finished for today"

"It's a special one. You know, carts and that things." You nod. He kisses you fast before leaving. You start to walk towards your room. Not surprisingly, Connie is yelling at Sasha, and she's eating something that looks like an onigiri.

You shared a room with Sasha and Historia, but now that Historia left the Corps, Sasha and you sleep alone. Connie and Jean are always on your room, paassing time, and the four of you became a group.

"Sasha just open your mouth, I want to eat too!" she shakes her head. You sigh before unpacking the bag Jurian gave you, telling that he couldn't bring it with him to the training. At the end of the bag, you saw his belt, where the ODMG has to be fastened. You think that probably the training hasn't started yet. You make your way out of your room, almost colliding with Jean, who was about to enter.

"You're going somewhere?"

"I'll be right back, wait a bit!" You started to run towards the training camp. The captains advise not to go out at night, but without that belt, Jurian was unable to train.

"Where are you going?" Levi's voice scared you. You looked around, but you couldn't see him. "Up here." Your gaze runs to a tree. He's is perched on a large branch of the tree, leaning against the trunk. his Maneuvering gear still on. He goes down fast.

"I... I have to give this to somebody, Captain."

"Interesting... May I accompany you?"

If Levi goes with you, he will discover your relationship with Jurian, but if you say no, he probably distrust and lose all esteem he has for you. So you start telling him when you two start walking.

"It's for my boyfriend." his face freezes.

Right now, on Levi Ackerman's head, the remote possibility of you dating someone has gained weight.

"Boyfriend, huh?" he says. He's about to turn back, run and hit something, but he pressures himself to stay calmly. He knows he has now zero opportunities with you, but he keeps in mind the fact that maybe you two have just started and maybe that relationship is going nowhere.

“Yes. We’ve been together for four years.” Levi almost chokes on his saliva, but he hid it well. 

“Tch, I’m just accompanying you, you don’t have to explain to me.” He said. The truth is that hear you talking about your boyfriend hurts him, hurts a lot. But he has to know who is he. You two keep walking. “Wait, where is he? The boy dorms are on the other side.”

“He said he had a training now.” Levi frowned.

“In which squad is he?” He asked. You explained him the position of Jurian, and his eyes where serious. “There aren’t trainings now, and less of that squad. What the hell is he doing?” You looked at him, confused. Jurian is a good and honest guy, it’s impossible that he is lying. “Are you armed?” you shake your head. “Stay behind me and be quiet, got it?”. You nod and Levi starts walking in silence, followed by you. You could see the doors of the training zone from behind him, and two low voices could be heard. You frowned, trying to recognize any of them. One was laughing. It sounded like a woman.

Levi entered the training zone with silent steps, making sure you two aren’t exposed. He pulls a blade out of its sheath, silently, and makes his way to the control station, where a lamp is on. He walks until he’s in front of the door, the voices now can be heard.

“Is it okay, Rian? I mean, your girlfriend...”

“I told you a hundred times she’s so obsessed with being a good soldier and enter Levi’s squad that she’s useless for me. At least she’s pretty and it’s on a good squad.” That voice... That was Jurian. Your boyfriend. The boy you have been dating for the past four years and a half.

And the boy that is cheating on you.

You started crying. You didn’t care about Levi being in front of you our the people inside the cabin. Levi looked over his shoulder to make sure you’re okay. His gaze went a little bit more sweet when he saw you were crying.

He opened the door with one kick, making the two of them yell. Jurian hugged the girl, and you recognized her. She was also in the cart squad.

“What the heck?”

“Tch, I see now.” Levi takes the belt from your hands, and he trows it in front of Jurian. “For this type of training, you don’t need a belt, you bastard.” Levi put his blade again on its sheath. “Do you have something to say?”

“We... wait, why is she here?” He looks at you. Your anger starts to rise at lightning speed.

“You’re a disgrace, Jurian”

“Oh, wait, she’s your girlfriend? I thought it was the girl you were kissing a year ago.” The girl says. You look at her.

“What?” A year ago? So this is not new? You feel your tears running. Levi clicks his tongue once again.

“Look, bastard. You’ll  be cleaning horse shit from now on, and I’ll put in your position someone who takes his job seriously and does not dedicate himself to being unfaithful and flirting with all the women of the regiment”

Jurian opened his mouth before starting to yell.

“You’re no one to give me orders! and I will not tolerate disrespect towards my person withou...”

“I’m tired of hearing you.” Levi kicked Jurian’s knee with strength, making him fall. He growled. “Now, do what I said, because I’ll remind you in case you have forgotten: I’m your Captain. I can give you orders and beat your ass up if you’re being disrespectful towards a comrade.” he says. Jurian tries to get up, failing a couple times, and the girl he was with runs before being scolded by Levi. “Now go.”

“But I’m taking my girlfriend with me.” he says.

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“We haven’t broke up yet.”

“Huh?” Levi asks. “Do you think she wants to see your face again? Let's go." He says to you. You nod.

"You're really going with him without hearing an explanation?" Jurian says from the floor. You stop, looking at him, but Levi reaches your hand.

It's well-known that Captain Levi avoids all type of contact, so his hand holding yours surprised you. You followed him, letting Jurian behind. Once you have walked a while, Levi stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks. You have your eyes wet, almost crying again. Levi remembers his hand on yours and lets it go. "Well, I'm sorry you saw that."

"Better for me watching it. At least now i know he wasn't a good guy."

"He's a bastard and he doesn't deserve a girl that cares that much." he says. You look at him but he starts to walk again. You follow him. "Go straight to your room, talk with your friends and rest a bit." he says. "I'll go notice Erwin about the use of the training camp on free hours." You nod and Levi scans your face. "You're okay?" he asks again. You nod and show him a little smile. He turns back.

That smile was about to kill him. You returned to you room, the three voices yelling could be heard from outside.

"We should go and search her!" Sasha says.

"But she's with her boyfriend, let her have fun" This time is Connie

"But don't you think she has been outside for a while?" Jean agrees with Sasha. You open the door and the three of them sigh. "How was it?" Jean asks. Your eyes are still wet and your breath isn't rhythmic.

"He was cheating on me. For years." They all looked at you. Connie and Sasha shared a gaze before hugging you. "Did you said something to he?"

"Fortunately, Captains Levi was with me... I'll have to thank him tomorrow." Jean moved his enormous body to yours, and covered you with a hug after Sasha and Connie ended. Your friends, well, you four had a special friendship, and you couldn't be more thankful for having them by your side.

The next day, when you knocked on the official's room searching for Levi, Hange smiled at you.

"He went today on a little expedition with Erwin. He's going to return on a couple hours. Do you want to help me cleaning the titan's place while you wait?"

You didn't want, but Hange looked so happy you couldn't say no. After a couple hours, nobody told you two that the expedition came back. An hour later, there was no sign of return. Another hour later, you two were about to lose your nerves when a cadet entered running.

"Only fifteen from the twenty that went are back, and all of them are injuried, we need help!"

Hange and you ran from the titan's experiment zone to the improvised hospital. There, a lot of soldiers where laying on beds, with several injuries. Levi was leaning against the wall. You walked towards him and he looked at you.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Are you okay?" you asked at the same time. You had that natural impulse to worry about everybody, but now that Levi helped you, you felt a debt to him.

"I'm okay." he says, but he has a long cut in the abdomen, it even tore his shirt from the deep.

"Would you let me help, Captain? I have a little knowledge of injuries, and the one on your abdomen looks bad." He looked at it and clicked his tonge.

"If it is okay for you..." He walks to a empty room and sits on the bed. You look at him, examinating the cut. "Do you need me to undress?" he asks. You nod silently and he starts to unbotton his shirt. His head was a mess. He's not working with normality since he's about to have your hands on his nude body. "Just the shirt, no?" you look at the cut now that it is discovered. A little bit of it is hidden under his pants, but nothing to die for. You nod again while threading the needle. "Have you stitched a wound before?"

"Yes, I helped Connie and Jean a couple times." Levi looks at you, but when you turn around and your eyes meet, he looks through the window. You clean his wound with a little bit of water before start stitching it. You work on silence and Levi is really quiet, not like the other two boys. You let your eyes look his skin. It isn't smooth or soft, full of scars and poorly healed wounds. You kept working on the cut, Levi's face showing pain. His skin was hot against your fingers. Captain Levi has been always a role model for you.

His abilities on battle and the way he speaks to you make you think of him as a true captain. Connie is lowkey scared of him and Sasha says that he's superior to all the army together. Levi could be distant sometimes, but you never experienced that before. The way he always assists your kills and helps you when you're in danger says a lot about him. His grey eyes were fixed on your face, concentrated on making a good work on his skin.

"Does it hurt?" you ask, your voice lowered because of the concentration.

"No." he simply answers. You where about to end stitching. Once you're finished, you cut the restant thread and clean it a bit with water. "Thanks."

"Thanks to you, Levi." his heart shaked. You didn't use Captain before his name. You where treating him like a person, not like a superior. "For helping me yesterday."

"It was nothing." he says, simply. He pulls a shirt out of a nearby ark and dresses carefully. "So you wanted to enter my squad?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood. You look at him, surprised. It's the first time Levi tries to hold a conversation and he remembers what Jurian said yesterday night.

"Yes, that's why I worked so hard." you explain. Jean, Connie and Sasha are part of it, and with Levi as the Captain, they were recognized everywhere. "I really admire the way you fight and help the soldiers. I really wanted to be part of the Special Operation Squad." His face is serious, but he's regretting telling Hange inside. They were who told Erwin, and Erwin decided to put you on a squad where Levi has no business, to avoid him from get distracted or give his life for yours. Damn.

"Actually, I need someone with your strength on battle." he says. He's lying, with him and Mikasa in the same squad... "Move to our squad with your friends." he sounds indifferent, but he's so nervous his soul is about to leave his body. You looked directly at him, happy.

"For real?" That expresion, oh man. You have destroyed the Captain with it. You are so beautiful, looking at him with your eyes sparkling from happiness. "She's so close" he thinks, but then he retracts himself. "No, Levi, no." He just wanted to hug you and tell you he was going to reach you no matter what, and be there for you every time you needed him. He (surprisingly) wanted to kiss you softly to feel you melt against his body and look at your eyes sparkling for the rest of his life.

But he nods. He just nods. You smile at him and bow in signal of respect. "Thanks, Captain!"

"I'll talk to Hange, don't worry about it. Oh, and you can call me Levi. Formalisms are only for threathening." You let out a quite laugh. He kind of smiles, and you tell him how he should take care of the stitches ("I had my wounds stitched before, y/n") before leaving to tell your friends you four are going to train together starting next week.

Hange was sad because you left their team, but they were also happy because a boy who really likes titans entered on your place. In any way, you promised Hange to keep in touch with them.

The trainings with Levi's Squad were hard, but they where worth it. The first day, Levi told you to watch their training, and you were amazed by the way they train. Connie and Sasha making double surprise attacks; Jean and his superior ODMG control and leadership; Eren learning to use his titan form with Mikasa having his back, and Armin making strategic plans on a second. And Levi. The grace of his body, the speed and the strenght, the precision of his cuts. The first day you trained, Levi destined you to Jean's sub-captaincy, but, when he was observing you, he thought maybe you where the one with whom he could make the most effective double maneuvers. So you two started to train together, as a team of two. At first it was difficult for you, Levi is just a born soldier, and your abilities have been born of effort. But, you learned from him, and you quickly joined his movements. He was surprised by the way you understood his next movements without telling you. Months later, you two are on complete sync. He's comfortable with you, but the fact that now he talks with you every day, spend every single minute with you and also works with you is making him go insane. All this months of couple training and couple missions made you understood that Levi really cares for all of you, from Eren to Sasha, and he's having your back on every kill, on every assistance, on everything. All the times you ran out of gas or your blades weren't working well. When a titan tryied to kill you or the times you cried because of the death of your comrades. All those times, he was there for you, holding your hand, letting you cry on his neck or smiling to you after a good mission. The fact that, for the first time, you had someone who understands you and who really cares for you by your side, make your heart flutter.

"You're not going to ask her out?" Hange asked Levi. He clicked his tongue but stayed on silence. On the other hand, Jean was following you to your room.

"You like Levi." he said. You blushed and looked at your friend.

"N-No! Jean, the fuck?!" He laughed but raised an eyebrow in your direction.

"Oh, come on! I'm your best friend, you're obviously falling for the Captain. And I bet he's attracted to you." Your blush increased. But, maybe you liked Levi? You thought. It wasn't impossible. He always treated you so good, and his attractive face and his perfect body... Maybe you were falling slowly for the Captain... For the way you feel protected, important and adored when he fights with you, or the intimacy when you heal each other after a mission. The way he talks to you, and he listens all your ideas. You feel somehow important when he's areound you. Jean smiled slowly. "Go and tell him." You looked at your best friend with surprise. "You like him, for godness sake, you should tell him!" All this months, a little love flame has been increasing on your heart, little by little, but Jean's words made you realice you're about to burn.

You like Levi. You like your Captain.

"And if he rejects me?" Jean laughed before hugging you.

"Then he's a dork. But then keep things profesional. But I'm 100% sure he feels the same. Now go!" You follow Jean's advice and search Levi on the trees, were he was standing guard four months ago. You found him on the same tree, in the exact same position. He laughs when he sees you.

"You're going to return a belt?" he asks. You laugh while he goes down the tree. You shake your head.

"Actually I was searching you." Your hands were sweating and you couldn't make eye contact. He noticed that.

"It's everything okay?" He asked. You nod.

"It's just... What do you think of Captain-Subordinated relationships?"

"They have to be respectful to each other, I guess... Wait, did I made something wrong" You shake your head. Damn, this was hard. Killing a titan was a hundred times easier. "Then?" he was running out of patience.

"Maybe I started liking you, Captain Levi."

He had to blink twice. All the little Levi's working on his head were about to start a fire on his brain. "What?" he asked. His hands were about to tremble, but he hid it while asking you again. "What did you said?" You looked at him, but his face was unreadable, as usual.

"That I like you. Romantically talking. I just wanted to tell you, but now we can keep things profesional and this never happened, but I wanted to be honest with you and with myself." You stretch your hand towards him, and he keeps looking at you, but then he starts laughing. You don't understand anything. Like why the hell is he laughing? Does he think a love declaration is funny? But he looks at you.

"For years, I liked you for five fucking years. I still like you. Hange told me to forget you but I was unable. So I guess all my effort has been rewarded with a caring and pretty girl?" You laugh nervous, is he pranking you? But he's serious. His hand takes yours, but he pulls you towards him. "I cared for you and tried to call your attention, and then discovered you where with that boy. But you didn't deserve what he dis to you. I wanted to kick his soul out so bad. Why he, that had you, was looking for others and make you feel bad? Tch, he was lucky you were there." His hands searched yours. "I'm not a huge fan of physical contact, but every time you healed me I just could think of your hands in all my body. And sorry, but I really like you."

You both stayed in silence for a bit. So it was corresponding? And now? You're dating? You're going to keep things distant?

"So you think we should keep things like we have been doing?" He frowned.

"The hell, y/n? No. If we both like each other, isn't that how relationships start?" he was right. "Unless you don't want to."

"I was the one telling you first, of course I want."

"Cool. Should we discuss this drinking a cup of tea?" He asks. You nod before taking his hand, and looking for his reaction, you tangled your fingers with his. He smiled and took you hand to his lips.

"Let's go, Levi."

[seokiie]

𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7𝘬

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘷𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 @gracieinworldofhope 𝗱(^_^𝗼)

On AO3

~

You and Hoseok have been roommates for.. for...

"Hoseok, how long have we been living together?" You look up at a sweaty Hoseok from your spot on the couch.

"I don't know, uh, maybe a year and a half?" Hoseok puts on a thinking face despite the fact that he was doing stretches in the middle of the living room. You nod.

You and Hoseok have been roommates for a year and a half.

Your parents were pretty against you living with a guy you weren't planning on dating or marrying, but you didn't really care. You needed someone to split rent with and Hoseok was your only longterm, financially trustable friend you had.

Recently, you'd gotten a well-paying job and you didn't need Hoseok as a roommate anymore, but you weren't gonna tell him that. By him staying as your roommate, you're able to save up some extra money and even-

Yeah, no. That's not why you wanted to keep Hoseok as your roommate.

To be completely honest, you've kind of grown attached to the friendly company and it feels so good being able to come home to someone.

And he smells so good.

You'd never admit that last part though.

Hoseok works as a dance choreographer. He's not famous or anything but he's fairly well known. So he's always stretching or dancing or practicing in the middle of the living room. When you first moved in, you really couldn't stand being in the same room as him when he practiced because he'd be all sweaty and wet and he smelled weird.

You really changed from back then.

You're not really sure what chemical imbalance in your brain was suddenly making you think Jung Hoseok was attractive. Well, he was attractive, always has been, but never in a way other than in a best friend sort of way.

"Hobi, don't- don't hug me after you exercise." His chest is so hard. his hands are so veiny. He smells so fucking good. Why does he smell so good?

"You're a lot different from when we first moved in together. You use to push me away, now you just get all flustered and cute." Hoseok's voice is breathless in your ear as he holds you in an awfully intimate back hug, your feet raising from the floor. You whine, struggling in his grasp.

"Put me down, Hoseokkk!" Don't put me down. Push me against the couch. Fuck me. Break me.

"As you wish." Hoseok laughs as he tosses you (not so gently) back onto the couch. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Can you warm up the takeout in the fridge so we can eat?"

You give him a sound of approval and watch as he speeds down the hall and into the shared bathroom.

Hoseok had taken you out last night since you'd gotten a promotion. He bought you Chinese food then took you to a karaoke place that you've never heard of. Apparently renting private karaoke rooms was expensive, but he did it anyway. Thinking back on it, you two must've gotten some weird looks because why else do two people go out and do karaoke... alone. You try not to dwell on that too much and shove the beef low mien into the microwave.

You jump up to sit on the kitchen counter, watching the container spin around in the microwave. As the time ticks down from three minutes, you find yourself thinking about your roommate. You use to chastise yourself for daydreaming about Hoseok, especially if it was in any way... sexual, but these days you find yourself giving in to the thoughts. The thoughts about Hoseok in the shower. The thoughts about his hands gliding over his lean body as water poured over him.

You bite your lip and cross your legs. You were delving into an area of your mind that you didn't dare touch unless it was the late hours of the night. Regardless, you can't help wondering if Hoseok has ever touched himself while he was in the shower. You can't help wondering what he'd look like touching himself in the shower.

After living with him for so long, it would be a lie to say you haven't seen everything. To be honest, if you had to make a list of all the times you two have been exposed to each other, it would be abnormally long. There was that one time in college when you, him, and some mutual friends went skinny dipping. That was actually the first time you two met and the circumstances were a bit weird.

Then there was that time after he had just moved in, you walked in on him peeing. You couldn't help getting a quick look before fleeing the bathroom with a meek 'sorry'. And there was that time you thought you were home alone so you walked around in a big shirt, nothing underneath. Hoseok walked out of his room and got an eyeful.

So you didn't have to imagine what Hoseok's dick looked like.

You already knew full well.

You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension and let out a quiet sigh. Then you make the mistake of imagining Hoseok coming all over his hands and the shower walls. The way his thighs would tremble slightly and the way his face would twist in pleasure. You like to think the face Hoseok makes when he comes is the same face he makes while dancing. Focused, lips between his teeth, chin tilted up, and hair stuck to his forehead. You almost find yourself snaking a hand between your legs when a door slamming and a loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Aishhhh, what are you doing? The microwave stopped how long ago and you're just sitting here staring at nothing." Hoseok gives you a raised eyebrow expression, humoring you slightly. "Kinda reminds me of Jungkookie, to be honest."

You uncross your legs and let out a cough that only seems awkward to you as Hoseok opens the microwave and takes out the container of food.

"Let's watch a movie and eat."

^^

Tonight is Friday so its Hoseok's turn to pick the movie.

He picked Wall-E.

Again.

He's made you watch it with him so many times that you think you have the script partially memorized. After bitching about it several times and seeing as he had no intention of changing the movie, you figured you might as well enjoy it the best you can.

"Aren't you cold? You're not under the blanket." The lights were all off except for the faint red LEDs you and him spent hours putting up a few weeks ago. The TV hummed with the familiar Pixar intro theme and the various snacks on the coffee table before you seemed to set the mood perfectly.

"I'm not cold, actually. I feel quite warm." You offer him a slow blink and a smile before turning your attention back to the TV. You were never one to refuse Hoseok's cuddles but you were feeling a little pent up and having him wrapped around you, his scent everywhere, especially after a shower, didn't seem like a bright idea.

"But I'm cold." You can hear the pout in his voice and you roll your eyes. Tempting, but no.

"If you're not in my arms within the next five seconds, I'll have no choice but to use force." Mock authority radiated from his voice and even if it wasn't real, the dominance in his tone made you want to scurry over to his lap and obey. Extremely tempting, but no.

"Five."

"You're not seriously counting right now."

"Four."

"Oh my fucking god, you're kidding me."

"Three."

"Hoseok, you're not my dad. You can't just-"

"Two. If you don't get over here I might have to get the belt." You almost choke at that. His attempt at a joke had somehow managed to make your whole body heat up.

"I- okay, stop, you- I'll cuddle with you, just... relax." That 'relax' was more directed at you than at him. A dimple-full smile graces his face as he opens his arms and pats the spot on his thighs. Very inviting of him.

"Ooh, goo goo! Look at the little baby all warm in daddy's arms!" Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your back flush against his chest. If your thoughts weren't dangerous before, they were dangerous now.

"Don't say things like that, weirdo. Pay attention to the movie." Hoseok gives a disgruntled 'okay, okay' before relaxing with you on his lap.

At first, you're a bit hyperaware of the situation. You're sitting in Hoseok's lap and if you press your hips down just right...

No. You stop yourself there.

Hoseok smelled amazing, too. He usually smelled sweet, like artificially flavored candy. But you especially loved how he smelt after a shower because of his natural scent mixed with the rough yet refined fragrance of his body wash. Mm, you could breathe him in all day.

The movie continues fine from there. You respond how you usually do, laughing at the funny parts and whining at the sad parts. Around halfway through, though, you notice Hoseok is kind of shifting under you. You ignored it at first thinking he was trying to get comfy but the shifting has gone on for so long now that you think your ass bones are making him uncomfortable.

"Should I get up? I bet you can barely feel your legs right now." You lean your head back on his shoulder, tossing some caramelized popcorn into your mouth.

"H-huh?" His eyes go a bit wide like you'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. You make a confused face back.

"You keep shifting. If you're uncomfortable we can go back to how we normally cuddle?" Hoseok looks like he honestly contemplates it before opening his legs wider so you were sitting between his legs and keeping his arms wrapped around you.

"No, uh... no. I like having you like this. I mean, It's good. You're not making me uncomfortable." The exact opposite. You laugh then shift your focus back to the movie.

"If you're so sure."

When you wake up, the room is noticeably brighter and you're laying across the whole couch, a thin blanket covering your body. You rub the sleep and the crust out of your eyes before grabbing your phone off the coffee table.

It was 12 pm.

You toss your phone onto the floor and let out an annoyed groan. Not only did you miss your whole entire morning but your neck was a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. Hoseok had obviously meant well by putting a blanket over you while you slept but he couldn't at least carry you to your room? Well, you figure you shouldn't complain, it was a nice gesture.

You start to clean up the living room, tossing the empty cans and bags of chips in the trash before picking up the blanket that you left jumbled up on the couch.

"Hm. This isn't mine." You comment to no one but yourself as you play with the colorful throw in your hands. The only other person who lived here was Hoseok so it must be his.

You look down the hall at Hoseok's room. His door is open which usually meant he was either feeling very inviting or he was at work. Looking at the time, it was probably the latter. He won't be back till around six depending how long dance practice runs. You had the whole apartment to yourself today.

You peak through the open door just to make sure you were right and sure enough, you were. Hoseok's bed was empty, made neatly and tucked in the corner of his room. His window was open, a slight breeze wafting in and blowing his sheer curtains almost dramatically as you walked inside.

You plop yourself down on his bed, his blanket still in your arms. You'd only been in Hoseok's room a total of maybe nine times over the past year or so and most if not all of those times, Hoseok was there, too.

As you're sitting on his bed, you find yourself bringing his blanket up to your nose. You swear you don't do it on purpose, it was almost like an instinct. You inhale slightly, just to get a quick sniff and fuck. Yeah. That's definitely Hoseok's blanket.

You inhale deeper, this time letting out a quiet moan as you exhale. There were a few hints of yourself but that was understandable. You'd been sleeping in it for who knows how long. But besides that, you could clearly smell Hoseok's ambrosial scent.

As you lay back on his bed, you wonder why you're so easily affected by how he smells. It's a little weird to you but you can't help the way your body reacts when you breathe him in.

"Hoseok..." What are those things called..? Pheromones! Maybe Hoseok just has some crazy pheromones that are making you lose your head. That seems to be the most reasonable conclusion you can think of as you snake your hand down your belly and past the waistband of your shorts.

Were you seriously going to touch yourself in your roommate's room while smelling his blanket?

To be completely honest your mind was so clouded you genuinely couldn't see any problem with that.

You graze two of your fingers over your clit, a ripple of pleasure and relief washing over your body as you practically smothered yourself with the blanket. You've been pent up so long. When was the last time you touched yourself?

It doesn't take much to get you going. All you have to think about is Hoseok and you're already soaking. Hoseok after practice, Hoseok working out, Hoseok's face when he dances, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok. You have a slight feeling saying his name any more than you already have might make him appear.

"Y/n? I'm back."

Wait, what..?

You pull your hands out of your shorts almost immediately, wiping the slick on your fingers on the blanket before throwing it back on the bed. You stand up just in time to see a familiar figure lean against the door frame.

"What are you doing in my room?" Hoseok crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. There wasn't a hint of knowing in his voice and you relax a bit at that.

"Nothing, er... I was returning your blanket." You point to the jumbled fabric on the bed before making your way to the door. If you didn't leave now he was going to catch on.

As you're about to squeeze past him and make your escape, his arm blocks your path. He was taking up the whole doorway now. Great.

"Are you feeling okay? You're kinda sweaty. Do you have a fever?" Hoseok's hand moves to your forehead and you scramble to push the hand away. "You feel warm, too. Should I make you porridge?"

"I'm fine. I'm just- the apartment is just kinda hot." You chastise yourself for the awkward laugh you let out and it's obvious that Hoseok doesn't buy it. Regardless, he moves his arm so you can walk out of the room.

"Hey, wait..." You barely make it down the hall before Hoseok is grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks. Just as you were about to celebrate your small victory of not getting caught, too.

"I need help packing away the groceries."

^^

"So you were out buying groceries?"

"Yeah..? What did you think I was doing?" Hoseok pulls out a gallon of milk and a few cartons of juice from a shopping bag before placing them on the kitchen counter.

"I thought you were at practice. I didn't think... you'd be back so soon." You look down slightly, avoiding eye contact as you take the produce from the counter and organize them inside the fridge. You could clearly feel Hoseok's eyes on you but you didn't dare look.

"Pfft, is that why you were so shocked when I found you in my room? You weren't really returning that blanket were you?" He said it in a joking manner but you're shocked that he caught on so quickly. You say nothing in response.

Just as you're about to put a carton of eggs into the fridge, Hoseok closes the door and spins you around, effectively pushing you back against the fridge door. The eggs you were holding slip out of your hands but that's the least of your worries. At the moment, Hoseok had you pushed against the fridge, his arms caging you in like you were in an anime. Seriously?

"You know, while I was taking Japanese in college, I learned that pushing someone against a wall like this is called 'kabedon'. I've always wanted to try it." He's so fucking close. Way too fucking close. His lips were mere inches away from yours and if he took one step closer, his hips would connect with yours.

"All of a sudden? I- you- why-" The words you wanted to say fizzle out of your head as you watch Hoseok's eyes drop to your lips as you stutter. He was definitely doing this shit on purpose. He loved seeing you flustered.

"What were you really doing in my room?" A smirk graces his lips when he sees you tilt your head down. In the most platonic way ever, he relished in the feeling of watching you submit to him.

"You- what- what are you thinking!" It was barely a question. Your mind flashes with images of what Hoseok could do to you in this position and you feel your body getting hotter (if that was even possible). You're pretty sure if you let this go on any longer you'd start panting in need. The room is deadly silent before you speak up again.

"The eggs..." You say meekly and Hoseok tilts his head to the side, confused until he looks down at the yellow liquid spilling from the half-opened carton at your feet.

"Oh, shit. Oops..." Sheepishly, Hoseok steps back but you don't move from your spot against the fridge. You felt frozen for a few seconds as you tried to regain the train of thought that Hoseok effortlessly managed to derail. "Ahh, those eggs were expensive, too. It was a 24 pack..."

"Maybe you should've considered that before pushing me against the fridge." You roll your eyes and step over the mess, leaving it for Hoseok to clean up. He simply groans in response and you can't help feeling grateful. Those eggs really just saved your life.

Over the next few days, you find yourself daydreaming about Hoseok a lot. Okay, this was usually normal but you were doing it a lot more often.

And in a lot more inappropriate places.

Just this morning you caught yourself daydreaming about Hoseok while you were at work. You were reviewing some files for corporate when you thought back to the smell of Hoseok's blanket. The scent that was so distinctly him. You imagined what it would be like to tuck your face into his neck while he fucked into you. You're not completely sure when your imagination got so vivid but you could picture everything perfectly behind your eyelids. The slide of his dick inside you, his quiet grunts and moans. He's a dancer, too so you knew his stamina would be out of this world.

That leads you to this evening. You got home from work around six or seven and usually, Hoseok is back by then. He'd usually be sitting on the couch watching some foreign movie or he'd be dancing in the center of the living room. A surge of worry washes through you when you walk inside the apartment and its pitch black.

You flick the lights on and toss your keys and bag onto the kitchen counter before calling his name out into the abyss. No response.

As you walk absentmindedly through the apartment, it finally hits you that you're home alone.

Alone.

By yourself.

Hoseok is gone.

You throw your jacket onto your bed before looking down the hall at Hoseok's room. His door was open. He really was gone.

Almost as if your body had a mind of its own, you find yourself walking towards his room. His door was only a few strides away from yours and you had no chance to rethink what you were about to do.

"He won't mind if I..." You throw open his closet and you're a bit surprised to see how untidy it is compared to his room. Last time you checked, Hoseok really prided himself on being the neat one. On the floor, you find a couple of clothes that had fallen off their hangers. There sits a grey hoodie with little holes in it. You recognize this hoodie. You haven't seen Hoseok wear it in weeks.

Perfect.

He wouldn't mind if you 'borrowed' this hoodie for a bit, would he? You'll give it right back when you're done with it, you promise.

^^

"Dance with me."

"No, Hoseok. I'm busy."

"You're not even doing anything. You're scrolling through TikTok."

"Yeah, important business."

"Can you turn off your phone? Please? Dance with me!"

"Hoseok, you know I can't-" Before you can get the words out, Hoseok is grabbing your arm and dragging you off the couch. Your phone slips out your hands and onto the floor. "Hoseok, don't you dare!"

"You don't have to know how to dance to dance. Just feel the music!" Hoseok spins you around so your facing him. His hands are on your waist as the song playing through the speaker changes. You didn't recognize this song but for some reason it made you feel a little nostalgic. It was a rap song with a slow tempo.

"Literally everyone who knows how to dance says that. Fine, but I'm warning you. I'm a toe stepper." You had a little bit more fight left in you but Hoseok's hands were so warm on your waist and he was pulling you in so close. Your defenses were quickly weakening.

"That's okay. I'll show you. Put your arms here." He puts your arms on his shoulders.

"Move your body like this." His hands move to your hips. With feather-light touches, he guides you to the music.

"It feels awkward." You mumble mostly to yourself. Hoseok pulls you even closer as if to say 'it's okay. It's not awkward to me'.

"If you're embarrassed you can put your head on my shoulder. Here, so you don't have to look up at me." You do as he says and admittedly, you do feel a little less disconcerted.

With the music playing loudly throughout the apartment and Hoseok guiding his hips against yours, you feel like you're dancing with a stranger at the club (even though you've never been to a club).

Oddly enough, it feels really comfortable. Hoseok's holding you and helping you stay in time with the music. Somewhere between the third and fourth song, you find yourself getting a little too comfortable, though. With your nose tucked into Hoseok's neck, you can smell his sinewy scent perfectly. You let out a quiet sigh after inhaling deeply.

Mm, fuck. So good. Why does he smell so good? And he's practically grinding against you, too. You really didn't know how long you could last like this.

You wondered if Hoseok ever danced with other people like this, pulling them in by their waist and pressing his hips against theirs. The way he moved was absolutely sinful and the way he guided your hips, deliberate and slow, was so delicious. Not to mention everytime he pulled you in you could feel something heavy rub against your thigh.

Maybe... maybe it was just his phone.

"Heh, are you okay?" His voice is low in your ear, lower than normal.

"Mmm, huh?" you moan into his neck, forgetting for a moment that the man that has you wrapped around his finger is your friend, your roommate of almost two years.

"You're- you're breathing really hard. Are you okay?" Hoseok's voice is breathy but you miss it over the sound of the music.

"M'fine." You were thoroughly drugged out on his smell, his hips, your mind completely darkened with thoughts of him.

"Ah, y/n. Let's- let's take a break." Hoseok breathes as he pulls you away. The panting and moaning into his neck... yeah, no. If he let this go on any longer, he wouldn't be able to control himself anymore. He was currently sporting a semi and grinding against you was not going to help his situation.

"Yeah... uh, yeah. Let's do that. It's hot." You were burning up inside but without Hoseok's body pressed against yours you felt a lot cooler.

"I'm going to shower." Hoseok says, leaving no room for an awkward silence. That doesn't change the fact that you can't meet his eyes. "Thanks for dancing with me. Let's do it again sometime."

You give him a nod and watch as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You're kind of just left standing in the living room now. You guess now would be the best time to go to bed. Yes, you needed to sleep before the embarrassment of what just happened settles in.

As you're walking down the hallway to your room, you just about pass Hoseok's room before stopping and backtracking.

You peak into the room, examining the area. His bed was unmade and the lamp on his desk was on. His laptop was also open but the screen was black. To be completely honest though, you were more interested in the little pile of clothes on his bed. You hold your breath for a second just to hear whether or not the shower was still going. Lucky for you, Hoseok seemed to be taking his time in there.

"This is payback for making me dance with you." You mumble to yourself before picking up a random article of clothing from the crumpled up pile. You don't realize till you uncrumple the item that it's a nightshirt.

The pile on his bed was a pajama set.

If you take the shirt with you, he'll definitely notice somethings missing. You think about putting it back and forgetting you were ever here, but thoughts about Hoseoks hands on your body, the way he smelled when he put your head on his shoulder...

You bring the pajama shirt up to your nose. His scent was strong and you swear your legs almost give out.

There was no more time to think. You heard the water shut off and it didn't take you more than a second to dash out of his room. If anything he'll just think he misplaced his shirt.

Honestly, tonight you would need this shirt more than he would ever know.

^^

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.

Hoseok gets out of bed that morning and stretches a bit before opening his drawer. He didn't have work today but Joon had been texting him constantly trying to get him to go to the studio with him. He figured he can't keep putting it off and a Saturday morning was best spent mixing and mastering. He also heard one of his close friends from college, Yoongi, was going to be there. He was relieved to hear Namjoon still kept up with him, it just gave him another reason to meet them at the studio.

Hoseok looks through his shirt drawer. He wanted to wear his nice black button-up which he'd probably tuck into some ripped up skinny jeans, but that required him to be able to find his black button-up.

Now that he thinks about it, his shirt draw seemed to have a lot less shirts than it did a month ago. At first, he thought he was just misplacing things, which wasn't common for him but he wasn't necessarily perfect. Now that he had a significantly smaller selection of clothes, he felt like he was going crazy.

He lets out a disgruntled sigh before throwing on an old green sweatshirt he found in his closet and stepping out of his room.

Looking to his right, he noticed that your door was still closed. It was almost 11 and you should probably be up by now. He wonders if he should ask if you knew what was going on with his clothes. Maybe your clothes were going missing, too. As he walks towards your room, his phone vibrates in his pocket. It's Namjoon, probably asking if he was on his way.

He gives your door one last look before answering the call and turning the opposite direction to leave the apartment.

Ok, this was seriously starting to get out of hand.

Hoseok had just gotten home from dance practice. He was assigned to a newer idol group and teaching them their first choreography was a little more strenuous and demanding than he'd expected. None-the-less, he still pushed through it and managed to make a good bit of progress. Unfortunately, it left him exhausted, sweaty, and noisome. As soon as he got home, instead of greeting you like he usually did, he threw all his clothes on the ground and got in the shower.

A nice warm shower is exactly what he needed. He'd even say he felt energized after.

As he wrapped a towel around his waist, he noticed something missing from his pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He bent over to sift through the pile, identifying right away what was missing.

His pastel blue Supreme hoodie.

Hoseok wasn't one to get particularly angry, not unless it was warranted. But he could feel himself getting increasingly more frustrated the longer he looked at his dirty clothes. He most definitely was not crazy and his clothes, especially shirts and hoodies, were definitely going missing. This wasn't all in his head.

In nothing but his towel, he swings the bathroom door open and leaves with the full intent to talk to you. He's not completely sure what he wants to say to you. He doesn't want to accuse you of stealing his clothes because that seems a bit presumptuous, but there's no other logical reasoning. Unless someone's been breaking into the apartment and stealing shirts, heh.

He doesn't bother knocking on your door. No matter what you were doing right now, his problem was more important. There was a burglar afoot.

When Hoseok turns the knob and inches your door open, the first thing he notices is that your room is kinda dark despite it being early afternoon. Your curtains were drawn and the fairy lights on your walls were the only source of brightness in the room. The second thing he notices is... you're shifting a lot in your bed and if he looks a little closer-

"Hnng, Hoseok..." It's only after a moan of his name leaves your mouth that he notices the fabric you're holding to your face with one hand.

It's his pastel blue supreme hoodie.

Ok, maybe he was insane.

"Fuck, Hoseok, fuck. Fuck me, aaha..." Hoseok watches you tilt your head back against your pillows. He watches your eyes roll back as you moved your arm faster under your covers. He watches as you breathe in his favorite hoodie like your life depends on it.

And he likes it.

Somehow, he can't stop himself from watching. There's something about seeing his usually innocent roommate writhe in pleasure. There's something about hearing his name fall from your lips in wanton moans, and fuck, he's so hard. He can feel the blood rushing to his dick as he watches you from the doorway. 'Pervert, pervert, pervert' is all he can say in his head as he lets an unconscious hand palm himself through the towel around his waist.

"So this is where all my clothes have been going?"

At the sound of Hoseok's voice, you freeze up completely. There's no way he's actually-

"Shit... Ho-Hoseok-" The apartment falls completely silent as you make eye contact with the man at your door. Suddenly the buzzing of your vibrator seems far too loud in your ears. "I didn't- I'm not... how much did you see?"

You're stunned and extremely mortified to the point where you don't notice that Hoseok is wet and he's wearing nothing but a towel. You don't even notice the way he subtly walks into your room, slowly like he's stalking prey.

"Enough. I saw enough." He's standing right by your bed, arms crossed. Your body burns with embarrassment as you pull your sheets up higher to cover your body. "Answer me, is this what you've been doing with my clothes?"

You simply blink in response. Did he really want you to answer that?

A beat of silence passes by and he reaches for the blanket covering your body before hesitating.

"Uh, can I?" Another wave of silence rolls by, you blink up at him in surprise before nodding quickly.

"Yeah- uh, yeah, just-"

"Fuck." Hoseok breathes out when he pulls the cover down and sees a cute little vibrator situated inside you. The sight alone makes his cock twitch with interest.

"I want to touch you so bad, can I touch you, y/n?" You can see the desperation mixed with uncertainty in his eyes, almost as if he knew he was saying something he wasn't supposed to.

"Please." As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Hoseok is climbing onto your bed and straddling your waist, his fluffy white towel sliding off in the process. You close your eyes tight, clenching around the vibrator inside you and suppressing a moan as Hoseoks movements jostled the toy. You were already so close to coming.

"So pretty... look at me." Hoseok tilts your chin up and your eyes flutter open. Hoseok thinks you're absolutely beautiful like this. Lips parted and your breathing heavy. Not to mention how disheveled your hair is and the fucked out expression on your face. Suddenly, he has the urge to paint that pretty face of yours with his come.

"What were you thinking about... smelling my clothes and fucking yourself like that?" You don't even get the chance to respond before Hoseoks slender fingers are wrapping around the vibrating toy and moving it back and forth inside you, slow and vexing.

"Hoseok, I can't- gonna... shit!" You were already so close when Hoseok walked in on you, you couldn't help coming hard around the toy, fingers curling into the bedsheets as he kept fucking you through your orgasm.

"Fuck, look at you. Ah, I really can't hold back." You've never seen Hoseok's eyes clouded with more lust than when he pulls the soaked toy out of you, a puddle of your juices oozing out of you and gathering on the bed. His cock visibly throbs at the sight.

"Y/n, let me fuck you. Please, I think I might die." Post orgasmic pleasure was still thrumming through your body and you yourself weren't sure if you could take anymore. But the longer you looked down at his leaking hardness, the more you wanted it inside you, the more you needed it inside you.

"Do it. Mmm, put it in." A shiver travels up your body when you feel the tip of his cock press against your folds.

This was dangerous. Despite living with Hoseok for all these years, you didn't know his sexual history and neither of you had a condom on you. Him coming inside sounded so good right now but that wasn't an option.

Hoseok was just as thick as you remembered and it was evident in the way he struggled to fit the tip of his cock inside you. If you weren't so wet, he definitely wouldn't be going in as easy.

"Hoseok, ah, fuck, it hurts-" You didn't know how to describe this feeling. It hurt so good. Out of all the guys you've ever slept with you've never felt anyone so big and thick and fuck, your vibrator was so tiny compared to him. That along with the sensitivity thrumming through your core had you reeling.

He finally bottoms out and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as if to tell him you loved the way he filled you up. Your nails drag lightly over his back as you part your lips to catch your breath. You're not the only one that needs a minute to breathe, though. Hoseok's breath was coming out in ragged pants against your neck as he adjusted to the warm tightness of your insides.

"God, I've imagined doing this so many times. Why didn't we do this sooner?" Hoseok tilts his head up, finally meeting your eyes and why does this feel awfully intimate? You nod in response, biting your lip to suppress the moan crawling out of your throat as he slowly starts to move his hips.

"Fuck, mmhnn, Hoseok..." You let your head fall back against the pillows as he steadily picks up pace, his cock brushing against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

"You take me so good, shit! Almost... mmh, almost like your pussy was made for me." You never expected Hoseok to be much of a dirty talker but you were definitely not against it. If he kept this up you'd be coming for the second time tonight.

All of a sudden, his thrusts start to slow down. You were already so close, was he seriously about to stop? You flash a confused expression his way and there's a dark glint in his eyes as he changes positions so he's sitting up, bringing you into his lap with him.

Oh.

Oh.

"Cmon, baby, ride me like this." Hoseok says through gritted teeth. His hands slide down your spine and rest on your backside before grabbing a handful. You can't help bucking your hips forward in response. "I wanna see what you look like bouncing on me."

There's a look of complete hunger in his eyes, something so dark compared to the usual warmness of his irises. You let your eyes flicker down to his lips, red and swollen from being bitten too hard. He must've noticed because he lets out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle before letting his hand wrap around the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

all the anxiety flowing through your veins seems to disappear as his mouth works expertly against yours. You part you lips to let out a moan and he uses the opportunity coax you with his tongue. He was literally taking you apart from the inside out and you fucking loved it.

"Y/n." His voice comes out rough and mean against your lips and you gasp when the hand on your ass is forcing you to grind your hips against his. "Are you going to move or do I have to do that, too?"

"Yeah..." Your lips ghosted against his as you started moving on top of him. The first time you lower your hips down, your legs almost give out. He was filling you up and pressing against your walls beautifully. You could feel him in your throat.

"I know you can go faster. Should I help you?" Hoseok practically growls as his hands drift up to your waist, his thumbs kneading the skin there as he moves your body up and down as if you weigh nothing. With Hoseok helping you, you're moving way faster and there's way less strain on your legs.

"Fuck, you look perfect like this. I wish I could come inside you, fill you up and watch it spill out. Then you'd really be mine, hm?" You let out loud moan, unsure whether it was Hoseok's words or the way he was pounding into you that caused it.

"So close... I'm so-" You tuck your face into Hoseok's shoulder as you feel another moan rip through you. Maybe that wasn't your smartest idea because as soon as you tuck your face into his shoulder, his natural musk mixed with his sweet-smelling body wash fills your senses, and that's exactly what pushes you over the edge.

You clench around Hoseok as your orgasm hits you hard for the second time tonight. Mumbled curses of your name spill from his lips and his thrusts become uneven. In the heat of the moment, you bite down on his shoulder to stifle a cry and his nails dig into the skin at your waist, a low groan falling from his lip as he pulls your hips down hard against his. He repeats that motion two, three more times before he's pumping you full of his come.

Oops.

Hoseok lets you rest your head against his shoulder as you both catch your breath before his eyes shoot open and he curses.

"What? What's wrong?" You tilt your head up to meet is worry riddled eyes. His worry was making you worry.

"Fuck, y/n, I came inside you." Hoseok facepalms before letting out a groan. "I'm so sorry, you just felt so good and you were so tight around me. It felt like you were trying to milk my cock out of everything it's got."

"You don't seem very sorry, you're still inside me." You giggle as Hoseok curses again and pulls out of you. As soon as he's out you feel terribly empty and you kind of wish he'd put his dick back inside.

When your back finally hits the bed, you roll over to open your bedside table. You didn't have any condoms but you did have some emergency plan b. You didn't think you'd have to use it but here you are.

"You just have plan b hanging around in your nightstand? But no condoms?" Hoseok raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his face.

"I ran out a while ago and it's not like I've been having sex recently, so I never found the need to buy more. It's your fault for pouncing on me like a dog in heat." You roll your eyes as you open the packet and take a pill.

"Weren't you the one that stole my clothes because my smell turns you on? Talk about a dog in heat..." Hoseok laughs and you give him a slap on the chest.

"Touche..."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating James T. Davis

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met James when the two of you were young. He was a friend of your older brothers and had; on account of this, spent countless days at your house.

- He relentlessly teased you and; at times, completely infuriated you, but he could also be a sweetheart when he wanted to be. Like the time he’d driven an hour out of his way to pick you up after your date; whom he had told you from the start was an asshat, bailed on you or when he’d tutored you for months on end so that you could pass physics.

- While he oftentimes adamantly denied it, it was obvious that he cared about you; though at first it was in a purely platonic, brotherly way. It was when the two of you were in highschool that that all changed.

- Your brother had graduated the year before leaving both you and his best buddy behind in your crappy highschool. James was in his senior year and you were a sophomore.

- Your brother had asked James to keep an eye on you while he was off at college; not that he really had to since the boy was planning on doing so anyway. Because of that, you and the boy started to hang out more and more which is why you were comfortable shyly admitting that you had a crush on; and a budding romance with, a boy in your class

“Who?” James wrinkled his nose, squinting his eyes as he scanned the parking lot of your highschool, hands stilling inside his backpack where they were once fishing for his car keys.

“Don’t be so obvious!” You whisper yelled and he glanced down at you for a split second before moving his eyes to search for the boy once more. “He’s the one by the red car, the one with the denim jacket.”

“Him?” He’d asked as though it were ridiculous that you liked him.

“Yes him,” you replied defensively. “Why? ...what’s wrong with him?”

“Nah, nah, nothing,” He told you initially though the way he said it betrayed the words. “C’mon, lets go. I can see the drool starting to show and I don’t want to mess up my shoes.”

- That night, James laid in bed, staring at his ceiling, an indescribable feeling washing over him. His mind ran through everything you told him, touching upon this and that and wondering why it all made him so ...angry?

- Sure that was part of it, but there was something else to it, something much more complicated. He glanced at the clock in his bedroom and sighed; it was going to be a long night.

- He took a few days to watch you closer detail and think things through. It was during that time that he came to a realization.

- He wasn’t sure when it all started but he’d begun to find you ...cute, and not in that “oh she’s such a cute little girl” sort of way either, he found you pretty, beautiful even. Perhaps that was part of the reason why it made him so angry to see another boy pursuing you and why it bothered him so much that you seemed to like him back.

- His feelings for you grew more and more, or maybe he was just more perceptive to them now that he knew how he felt about you. Either way, he’d officially fallen for you and had begun to think of ways to ask you out.

- Everything came to a head the day you found out your crush; and the boy who flirted with you, got himself a girlfriend. You felt silly getting upset over it but you couldn’t help it. You felt stupid, you felt like you weren’t good enough for anybody.

- It was enough to make you feel sick, so much so that you weren’t even lying when you went to the nurse to tell her you didn’t feel good. You’d walked home in the middle of the school day after the nurse excused you from class and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.

- James came to check on you after school, a bit worried that something had happened after you didn’t meet him for a ride home. He let himself into your house, knocking on your bedroom door until you hesitantly and weakly called for him to come in.

- The minute he saw you, he immediately asked what was wrong and refused to let you deny that you weren’t upset until you finally admitted everything. A little ways into your explanation, he’d made himself comfortable on your bed and pulled you into a hug, all but cuddling you as you ranted to him miserably.

- He interrupted you as soon as you began to put yourself down, softly telling you that the kid was an idiot if he chose someone else over you and listing off a bunch of things that made you a “total catch”. You sniffled and laughed as he made a light hearted joke, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked and you’d replied curiously. “...Did you really like that kid?”

“I don’t know,” You answered truthfully. “I think; more than anything, I liked him because I thought he liked me.”

“...I like you.”

“I know.”

“No y/n, I mean I like you,” he straightened up, letting go of you in the process and turning so that you were facing each other. “Listen, I know that this might come as a surprise to you and that it might be a bit strange but I can’t help it.”

“I know I can be a bit of a jerk sometimes and that I don’t drive a stupid looking Oldsmobile fiesta; how could you look at that thing and still want to get in that guys pants is beyond me.” he shook his head as though he were clearing his thoughts.

“But I do like you, no, I love you. And if you like me, even if it’s just a little bit, then I would appreciate it if you told me so that I can stop feeling so stupid and at least get my ass beat by your brother for a good reason.”

- You should have seen his smile when you admitted that you’d always thought he was kinda cute. He asked if you’d like to go do something with him and you smiled for the first time that day. You spent the next couple of hours driving around town and stopping to do whatever the two of you thought looked fun. You doubt that you could ever have as much fun just mindlessly wandering around with someone as you did with him.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. You’d gone to a carnival with him and he’d insisted that he could win you the big teddy bear prize that one of the games had had. You didn’t get your hopes up but a small part of you did get a little excited.

- Much to your surprise, he actually won and you were soon the proud owner of a four foot tall stuffed animal.

“Think that earns me a kiss?” He asked teasingly.

- You most certainly did.

- He’s always happy to touch you so don’t expect him to hold back when you’re out in public. He wants his hands on you constantly, usually in an innocent way though he does get an inexplicable urge to smack your ass in public.

- That being said: ass smacks, usually out of nowhere.

- Long hard kisses, especially after not seeing each other for a while or after he’s had a really rough day.

- Slow makeout sessions. He likes savoring the time he spends with your lips pressed against his, his hands wandering and the world around you disappearing.

- Hand kisses. Whenever you grab his, he’ll pull your connected hands up to his face and press a kiss to the back of yours.

- Long hugs.

- Ruffling each other’s hair.

- Soft punches and play wrestling.

- Dancing to records together.

- He’s got a thing for brunch. The two of you go out; at least, every week and get it together.

- Tons of nicknames, namely sweetheart and angel; he’s particularly fond of those.

- Private Joker, obviously he’s a pretty funny guy. He always seems to know how to make you laugh or smile. And he loves hearing you laugh, it’s like music to his ears.

- He leans his head on your shoulder whenever you’re sitting together. It’s sort of funny since; considering his height, he needs to bend completely out of shape or sit a good foot away from you to do so.

- Lazy mornings spent in bed. He always wakes up really early but usually just glances at the clock and groans, cuddling closer into you as he falls back asleep. He definitely spent like a full three days just sleeping after he got back from Vietnam, only taking breaks to eat, go to the bathroom, and give you a kiss.

- He refuses to sleep on his back once he gets home from the war. He cuddles close to you, wrapping himself around you like he’s giving you a bear hug in his sleep. Every now and again his arms will tighten around you the slightest bit more or he’ll wake up with a start, nuzzling closer as he tries to steady his breathing.

- Comforting him after nightmares. Sometimes you’ll just sit and stay awake with him for the whole night because he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. He insists that you don’t have to but you wouldn’t feel right just leaving him by himself like that.

- He doesn’t talk a whole lot about the time that he spent in Vietnam or recruitment camp but he does tell you about Cowboy and some of the sights that he saw.

- He most likely brought you back something when he was discharged; maybe some pressed flowers or coins, a knickknack, something like that.

“Either my eyes are going or you’ve gotten even more beautiful since the last time I saw you.”

- He moans over your cooking. He’s had to eat shitty MRE meals everyday for months so anything else is a blessing to him.

- Clingy boy, especially after he got back. He didn’t have the company of a decent woman for a long time so he feels like he has to make up for it, although, even before he left for war, he was still a touchy, needy little shit.

- Sometimes, he likes to act like he’s some big tough army guy; a trained killer and all that jazz, but he’s actually just a huge softie, especially when it comes to you. You can baby and tease him all you want and half the time he’ll just lay down and take it contentedly.

- Anytime you ask him those embarrassing coupley questions, he always replies with a shy “I am” and an uncontrollable smile.

- He likes when you put your hand on the side of his face. Feeling your touch; so soft and warm against his own skin, always makes him feel content.

- He likes going out and doing things for dates. Amusement park and carnival visits, bowling, mini golf, roller skating, going to the movies. He’s fine with sitting alone, and on some days he prefers it, but generally, he likes adventures.

- Watching westerns together.

- He’s always there to help you when you need it and he’s always the sweetest about it too. He never belittles you for what you don’t know, he just shows you how to do it/explains it and praises you when you learn.

- He likes helping you get ready in the morning/night: brushing your hair, helping you put on your coat, etc. He knows you don’t need him to but sometimes he needs it, the monotony and closeness of it calms and soothes him.

- So many compliments. You get; at least, one a day from him. R.I.P. your ears when he catches you feeling insecure, he’s going to list every single thing that he loves about you until your ego is so inflated that you could pop at any minute. 

- Looking over his writing for him. I’m convinced he got a job in journalism. 

- Exchanging letters when he’s active duty. He; quite literally, kisses them whenever they arrive, a big smile plastered across his face.

- He carried a photo and/or wore something of yours; like a ring or bracelet, wherever he went while he was deployed. It helped him to not feel too homesick and remind him of all the good things he has waiting for him at the end of the line, specifically you.

- You may or may not be the star of his erect nipple wet dreams and great homecoming fuck fantasies.

- He enjoys annoying you, but in an endearing way. Goofily attacking your neck with his lips as you squeal and push him away, messing with your hair, talking about stuff he knows you dislike (like insects or gore). He likes getting a rise out of you.

- There’s no way he got out of the war unscathed and without any lingering trauma. I’m sure he gets his fair share of nightmares and days where he’s far worse for wear; both from his time spent in combat and his final day at the recruitment camp.

- For a long while, he didn’t know if he was gonna last until thirty so he’s thankful for everyday he gets to spend with you.

- He’ll occasionally get jealous for real but mainly, he finds people being attracted to you amusing; because he has you and they don’t. He’s so smug about it too, pulling you into a kiss right in front of them and giving them an arrogant smile once you break apart.

- Overprotective. He’s lost a lot of people that he’s cared about so he never wants to drag you into anything dangerous or see you; potentially, get hurt in any way. So, while some of the things he disapproves certainly won’t kill you, you can sort of understand where he’s coming from.

- Having to hold him back from fighting people; he can be a bit of a hothead at times. As stressful as it can be, you can’t say that it isn’t attractive when he bites his lip and breathes all heavy.

- The two of you don’t fight very often; he can never stay mad at you. He’ll try to give you the silent treatment but it isn’t long before he caves and talks to you. If the two of you get really riled up, he has a tendency to smash his lips to yours and release all his pent up frustration in other ways.

- Depending on the situation, he’ll be a bit reluctant to apologize but will at some point, usually when he can’t stand not talking to you anymore. Although, sometimes neither of you will apologize; especially if you use an ...alternative method to release your frustration.

- He says he loves you all the time, mainly because he values you above everything else and never wants you to doubt that he does. Even though he tends to say the words with a lingering, joking tone, you still know that he means them from the way that he looks at you.

- He’s had a bit of time to think about what he wants to do with his life and you’ve been a doll: loyal, loving, caring. He can’t wait to marry and start a family with you. He can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of his life with.

[tooinlovewithfictionalpeople]

Dating the Hargreeves

Luther Hargreeves

-You met when one day you were called to the Hargreeve residence

- Your mother was a friend of Reginald and she had asked you to deliver a letter to him.

- On arriving you noticed how empty the place was

- So as Reginald took the letter from you, he told you to come back in ten minuets when he had written the reply

- Thinking he lived alone now, you just wondered about the house, until you bumped into Luther

- After stating your business, he seemed to warm up to you a lot more, even if he was a tad awkward

- You realised that he was just really lonely

- So you invited him for coffee

- He was so shocked all he could do was nod

- The coffee date went well the next day

- It was all going swimmingly, the two of you were good friends but right as you both were realising your feelings were more than just friends

- His dad sent him to the moon

- Pogo let you message him three times a day

- But you still missed him

- You didn’t understand why he couldn’t disobey orders

- But you respected his choice and waited

- For years

-When he finally came back he was slightly more clingy than he was usually and you two quickly became an item

- He was a broken soul who just needed some love

- And attention

- And to believe he didn’t waste four years of his life

- When you two started dating he was basically your own personal teddy bear

- he’s so warm so if you’re cold he would let you cuddle up to him

- he’d be so gentle because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you

- You would constantly be there to remind him to be nice to his siblings

- going stargazing together 

- or moon gazing the guy has an obsession

- You would steal his coat and make brilliant impressions of him, much to the joy of Diego and Klaus

-You are defiantly the smart one so Luther would always go to you for advice

- he’s so protective and will glare at any man who looks your way

- which can get a bit annoying but it’s nothing to bad.

- He’s really insecure so you would constantly assure him that he was beautiful the way he was

- Helping Luther see that dear old Dad was not the nicest guy

- Your best friend is 100% Diego though

- Which Luther hates because if you're mad at him, he’s doomed on all fronts

- He buys you chocolate though so you keep him around

- He has a good heart really

Diego Hargreeves

-You're both vigilantes of sorts

- You're more like a private investigator plus baddass crime stopper

- Police pay you to solve crimes, and then the government pay you even more money to take out pesky people

- It was kinda fun

- You meet Diego when Patch brings him in

- He overhears what job you’re doing and asks why you’re getting paid doing the same thing he’s getting arrested for

- Patch laughs and tells him that you are more of a private investigator

- You smile, thinking that would shut him up 

- But no. He starts calling you Sherlock

- Wearing that stupid smirk as he says it

- Your meetings become more frequent and he always teases you about your job but its nothing more than that

- Until one day he realises you don’t actually have a house, you live in a car

- Because even though your job pays well, you move around a lot and most of you money goes to your sister so she can afford a house, and living with her may but her life at risk

- So he offered the spare bedroom in his apartment 

- He assures you he can take care of himself

- So you agree

- And slowly you adjust your life to be with him

- You take turns cooking at first and then it turns into a you cook whilst he cleans because he cannot cook

- And then he takes you on a date

- He’s a shy stuttering mess when he asks you on a date, nothing like the mischievous confident man you'd known

- It was adorable so you said yes

- Things went really well so you guys decided to date

- He is such a cuddler

- Secretly likes being the little spoon, or sleeping on your stomach because it makes him feel safe

- But also likes being the big spoon because he likes to feel like he’s protecting you

- You’re probably the cook as he can only make eggs

- And even tho “They’re great eggs Y/N,” they’re “Not a balanced diet Diego,”

- Patching him up when he’s on his nightly hero duty things

- If you have work in the morning you will leave cute notes around the house for him to wake up to, and he does the same for you when he works

- When he grows his hair out he secretly lets you braid it as long as you tell no one.

- Until Klaus find’s out and gets you to braid his hair too

- He cannot say no to you, so gets through the day of relentless teasing by his siblings when you painted his nails 

- It was worth it to see you smile

- Full on shouting at Reginald at the dinner table when he upset Diego because HOW DARE HE make your boyfriend stutter like that

- The other siblings looking at you in shock because you were the calm and reasonable one 

- He wouldn’t really get jealous because he trusted you, but can’t resist showing off the fact you’re his girlfriend when someone starts to flirt with you

- Okay maybe he is jealous

Allison Hargreeves 

- For some reason you are immune to her power

- You found this out when Reginald tried to forcefully recruit you to the academy when you were fifteen, using her power and you just responded “I don’t know where you heard that sunshine.”  before merrily skipping off.

- She was shook

- The two of you started meeting at Griddy’s donuts

- At first she wanted to know how you managed to get away

- But eventually she started to like you

- You were sassy and smart and didn’t put up with her shit

- This is probably why Five adored you so much - you two became best friends

- She always held your hand and often kissed it softly if you were deep in thought

- You taught her how to get people to do what you say without using her power

- Which meant you guys left with a lot of free stuff

- She always loved to show you off, PDA was something she had no problem with

- Much to the disgust of some of the siblings

- Being in the 60′s as a lesbian couple was difficult

- So you pretended to be cousins

- which was weird for both of you

- She would constantly buy extravagant gifts for you, especially when she had the money

- Despite the fact that in public you seem like the one in charge, she is 100% the big spoon

- She likes the feeling of feeling truly needed

Klaus Hargreeves

- You meet in the war, you’re the bar tender that introduced him to Dave

- The talk he had with you was very brief but he remembered your face

- So years later, when he went back to that same Bar once he got back from the past he was shocked to see you serving people having not aged a day

- At first he thought you just has really good genes you had passed on but you were identical to the way he remembered you

- The he thought he was seeing your ghost but he saw that you were interacting with others

- So he called you over

- You didn't seem shocked to see him but pleasantly surprised

- You explained that you had gotten in a bit of a pickle as you were picking up a suitcase from the commission so you could retire but Five blew the place up causing the suitcase to malfunction

- So you were stuck in a warzone until you figured out how to fix the case

- You also told Klaus to give his brother a slap when he next saw him

- He did, but Five was very pleased to see you as you were a good friend to him and knew how to help

- Anyways after a couple of soft drinks you and Klaus got to know each other better

- And after a while the two of you became an item and life just got better

Helping him remain sober

- Cuddles all the time because he is needy

- you guys shared clothes because neither if you give a fuck

- You show him other ways to get high without damaging his body

- like taking him skydiving or to a theme park

- you always listen to him

- And will shout at the siblings when they undermine Klaus

- You keep the ghosts at bay, and will often hold him when he sleeps so stop any nightmares

- However neither of you can cook

- which leads to you waltzing off to Allison’s house at three in the morning because she can cook

- She doesn’t mind though because she’s never seen her brother this happy when hes sober

- You are best friends with Ben, and can also see and hear him so like to talk shit about Klaus when he’s in the room

- He is a pro at forehead kisses

- He’ll wrap you in his arms and just lightly kiss your forehead

- Because you make him feel safe, so he returns the favour

Five Hargreeves

- You worked with the commission as an assassin and after a few weeks of Five being there, he was told that you would be his partner

- He was a little annoyed because that would mean he wouldn’t be able to work on the apocalypse on the job in case you told on him

- Then he met you and you were nothing like he expected

- He’d seen you train, seen you kill five men whilst barely moving and go after the most dangerous of people

- So why were you so nice?

-You were like a little ball of sunshine and he was Mr grumpy

- When you were informed that he had been alone for 45 years, Five thought you’d run away from him, scared that you were friends with a madman

- But instead you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist

- At first he didn’t know how to respond but then he hugged you back

- And then you two became inseparable

- He wasn’t much into PDA especially when you got back to the Hargreaves siblings

- He didn’t want to be bullied

-But you loved affection

-So he compromised and the two of you would subtly lock pinkies

-But that was it

-Until you were alone

-Oh boy

- He needed coaxing at first because he’s socially awkward

- But he loves to be cuddled. He loves laying on your stomach, or holding you against his chest or wrapping his arms around your waist

- He’s a sucker for when you run your hands through his hair

- It makes him w e a k 

-When he’s working you’ll sit on his lap

- Because you want attention and he overworks himself

- You constantly look after him, making sure he drinks water and shit

- Because you cannot run on coffee alone

- The siblings become suspicious when they catch Five staring at you

- So they decided to spy on him

- And whilst they spied, they saw their mardy little brother dancing (Rather gracefully) around the Kitchen with you, both laughing as if there was no one else there

- Which tbf they didn’t think there was

- “They could just be working a case?” suggested Luther

- But that was quickly brushed aside when Five kissed you

- “Turns out the Hargreaves are capable of Love,” was all Klaus said although they were secretly thrilled at the fact you and Five were together.

Ben Hargreeves

- You were just a small town waitress 

- Working another long shift at your work, you saw two men come in, one rather skinny and hippie looking, and the other dressed in all black

- You’re a naturally sweet person so serving them with a smile wasn’t a problem

- But when you asked Ben what he wanted he just froze in shock

- After some explaining you decided to let the two guys stay at your apartment for a while, as they were lost anyway

- You all became super super close

- You helped Klaus become sober again

- And then you realised that not only could you see Ben, but you could make him physically there just by touching him

- You learnt this when you accidentally ran into him nearly knocking yourself out

- The Klaus was no longer the clingy one

-Ben was always touching you, not in a weird way just always brushing hands or wrapping himself around you

- He loved cuddles, just feeling warm for once

- He’d cuddle you no matter what, and if you had a tiring day at work he would be there to sweep you off your feet

- you made him feel alive again

- When he was touching you others could see him too

- which meant you automatically became the family favourite, after you helped Klaus, and then Ben

- Ben loves it when you read to him, it just calms him down

- His favourite thing to do is to sit in the park with you sat between his legs, lent against his chest listening to you read

- He wears the flower crowns you make with pride

- It takes ages to figure out why you can see him and make him real as you were actually a couple months younger than him

- Turns out you had died as a baby for exactly 108 seconds and that had left you with ties to both the physical world and the afterlife - and it was Mr Reginald Hargreeves who had saved you

- You were convinced he was an alien but the others disagreed

- You helped Ben not fear his power

- The guy is king of nose kisses. He just finds it really cute when you scrunch your nose, either in disgust or frustration or confusion

- You always kiss jawline, as if you’re snuggled together it’s often the only place you can reach

- Vanya is your best friend, you always invite her because she understands what it’s like to not know the extent of your own power

- Klaus is scared at first because he doesn’t want Ben to leave him although he would never admit it

- But then he realised he hadn’t lost a constant companion, he’d just gained another

- Ben loves to surprise you with cute simple things, like setting up a movie and hot chocolate, or picking out flowers he found at some point for you

- Dancing round the kitchen would be a daily thing

- You even got Five to join in 

- You make the best waffles so every morning all the siblings come to your house just to eat the waffles you make

- It’s like they are a family again, but this time they have you

Vanya Hargreeves

- She’s a bit iffy with personal contact

- It makes her a little nervous

- But you’re okay with that, she shows her love in other ways

- Like she’ll always make you tea in the mornings, or make sure you’re under the blanket before she sleeps because she knows you get cold

- You meet for the first time when you’re kids. The other siblings are saving everybody and ask you to stand with the others, because to them you’re just a civilian

- But when things start to go sideways, it’s you who helps them, using your powers of mental manipulation to make the bad guys visualise their worst fear

- Sir Hargreeves takes you in immediately, adopting you as Number Eight.

-The other kids felt bad for you when Reginald left you on your own, and it was Klaus who spoke

-”He’s not a good parent, he isn’t really here at all so I’m sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting,” but you were happy

“My real dad gave me this scar when he tried to stab me,” you replied with a little laugh “Ill take yours any day,”

-After that you and Vanya bonded over the fact you were both the black sheep of the family

- You always made sure she was included, and felt a bit bad that you weren’t a sibling but were often invited to more places than her

- During your teenage years you and Vanya clearly had something going on, so Reginald sent you away to France to study your powers

- It wasn’t until his death did you two see each other again

- It felt like you had never really left and things kicked off again

- But the Harold came along and told Vanya you were just as bad as the rest

- So she abandoned you

- You meet  for the third time in the 60′s, you’re staying with a married couple and their disabled son

- Vanya recognises you but she doesn’t know where from which breaks your heart slightly but it’s okay

- Because the more she spends time with you the more she falls in love with you

- She finally asks you to be her girlfriend

- Which you say yes

- Although she’s not big on affection, she loves it when you lay in her lap, it makes her feel trusted

- She loves to play the violin for you

- When she starts to grow used to affection, she loves it when you sleep all curled up beside her like a cat

- Or when you play with her hair

- Or kiss her cheek

- You make her feel like she’s valid and that’s all she ever wanted

[harrysweasleys]

seven years // h.p

 Summary: Hey! I want to request a harry potter x reader in which the reader is friends with the golden trio since first year (they are the golden quartet) and harry and the reader are in love with each other and during the battle of howarts harry finds time to confess his feelings and finally kiss her passionately. (In a kinda dramatic scenario if it's possible? Somewhat like the romione kiss?) I would love it so much if you write it! Send you a virtual hug! Bye!

Warnings: blood, violence, mentions of death

Word Count: 3k

A/N: this one was fun to write. there isn’t enough harry content out there.

———————————————

FIRST YEAR

Meeting Harry on the train had been an accident. A happy one, yes, but an accident nonetheless. You had tumbled into his compartment, hair disheveled and eyes wide, hoping to find a hiding place from the two red haired boys who were playing pranks on unsuspecting first years.

When you noticed two boys were already sitting there, you made your way to leave, when the dark-haired one called out to you.

“Wait, are you trying to hide?” he had asked, taking in your distressed state.

“Yes,” you nodded, “There are twins, I think they’re twins, throwing little smoke bombs everywhere. I got hit.”

The ginger haired boy sitting across from him groaned, “Oh, those are my brothers.” He smiled apologetically at you and you nodded back.

“You can hide in here, if you want,” the dark haired boy spoke to you again. His eyes were kind, light, and within moments of knowing him, you felt like you could trust him. It was oddly unsettling, but you figured what eleven year old could do any harm?

So you nodded, “Okay.”

And that’s how you got to meet Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, eventually meeting Hermione Granger not long after. The four of you had a strange start to your friendship, defeating a troll to save Hermione, pegging Snape to be a psychopath, and destroying the Philosopher’s Stone.

And that was only your first year.

SECOND YEAR

When the year had started up again, you were practically bubbling with excitement. The three friends you had made in the previous year had been your only source of sanity, really, so getting back to Hogwarts could not come sooner.

When Harry and Ron didn’t arrive on the train, you sat the whole way with Hermione worrying about where they could possibly be. Had they missed it? Were they sitting alone because you had done something wrong?

But, alas, your questions were answered when the two arrived at Hogwarts, looking anxious and exhilarated.

“We took a flying car,” Harry muttered to you once he took his seat next to you in the Great Hall, “Ron’s dad’s car.”

“You — what? A flying car? Were you spotted?” you couldn’t hide the worry you were feeling. If they had been spotted, they could get thrown out of school.

“We got detention,” Harry ignored your question, his body still very tense, “For a month.”

Across the table, you noticed Ron explaining to Hermione the same things Harry was telling you, her face contorting into shock and disbelief as he told his side of the story.

As if the start of the year hadn’t been adventurous enough, students were beginning to drop like flies all around the school with no real explanation.

So, naturally, people suspected Harry.

“I believe you,” you had told him one night after he vented to you about definitely not being involved, “Harry, you know I’ll always believe you. I’m here to help.”

He stopped his blubbering, “Really?”

You grinned at him, “Of course. What are friends for?”

And, true to your word, you stuck by him as you maneuvered the case of the Chamber of Secrets. You had even entered the Chamber with him, helping him escape the Basilisk and saving Ginny’s life.

“You’re the best, y’know?” Harry had asked once Fawkes saved him, his eyelids becoming heavy and his voice slightly slurred, “Thanks for everything.”

“Don’t thank me for being a friend, Harry,” you helped him up, “Now, c’mon, let’s get you to safety.”

THIRD YEAR

Third year was when you realized you were beginning to fall for your best friend. It started on the train, the moment Harry jumped in front of you and took the Dementor head on, unfortunately passing out but luckily getting saved by the new professor.

For weeks, you couldn’t look at him the same. He had been so selfless, so brave, and yet, you knew he was as terrified as the rest of you.

He had grown a lot over the summer too. His hair was longer, messier, and you had to admit, you liked the look.

But only when Harry plummeted nearly a hundred feet off of his broom in a messy Quidditch match did you realize that, yes, indeed, you were falling fast.

“You scared the bloody hell out of me, Harry,” you ran to his bedside once he woke up, his eyes having trouble adjusting to the brightness of the room, “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, brilliant,” he replied, his voice coarse, “Best I’ve ever felt.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips, “Well, you look fantastic.”

He grinned up at you, flashing his teeth, “Thanks for being here, Y/N. Where are the others? Ron and Hermione?”

In truth, Hermione knew about how you had begun to feel towards Harry, so she diverted Ron in order to give you some private time. But you couldn’t tell him that.

“She’s helping him with homework,” you lied casually.

He nodded, “Oh, alright.”

You stood up and sat on the edge of his bed, linking his hand with yours, “I’ll keep you company, though.”

And so you did. While Harry was dealing with the traumatic aftermath of finding Sirius Black, you were by his side, helping him deal with the news that his godfather was actually the good guy. It took him a while to process it, and you were there for him the whole time.

FOURTH YEAR

As if realizing you had feelings for your best friend wasn’t hard enough, in your fourth year, you had to watch Harry fall for another girl. Cho Chang, the talented dark-haired Ravenclaw, had caught his attention on the train and it was clear he had feelings for her.

Hermione had comforted you, making your realize that she didn’t compare to you at all, but it didn’t help how you had felt that entire year.

When Harry and Ron fought, you were by Harry’s side.

“I believe you, I know you didn’t put your name in,” you told him one night when Harry had been feeling particularly low.

“Thanks,” he had responded, “You’re the best.”

But, no matter how much advice you have him, nor how much help you provided, he didn’t see you as more than a friend. So, you figured getting over your feelings would be the way to go.

Hermione had helped you distance yourself from him. When Harry asked about you, she’d change the subject. When Ron asked about you, she told him the truth. You had watched from afar when Hermione and Ron were picked to be the victims in the Second Task, wondering if Harry would ever see you as anything more than his friend.

By the end of the year, Harry found himself deeply missing your presence. It wasn’t the same without you, and Hermione and Ron felt it too.

You approached Harry one night in the hospital wing after the third task, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. To see something so horrible.”

Harry, bloodied and emotionally bruised on the hospital bed, smiled at you, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled sadly, taking a seat, “I’m sorry about that too. But I’ve never stopped being proud of you, y’know? Always have been and always will be.”

Harry looked at you for a long time, both of you unsure of what to say next, until he spoke up again, “Hermione said you were dealing with something. D’you mind sharing? It’ll help take my mind off of what just happened.”

Feeling incredibly guilty, you tore your eyes away from him, “I’ll tell you one day. This isn’t the time.”

He seemed to accept your answer, but truth be told, he was thankful to have you by his side again and he didn’t want to push you away by pressing you even more.

“I think I’m gonna head back to my dorm, but I’ll be back in the morning, yeah?” you smiled at him, standing up off of your chair and looking towards the door.

“No — can you, uh, can you stay?” his voice was quiet, almost pleading, “I just really need someone here.”

Who were you to deny him that? He had just been through a traumatizing experience — witnessed someone dying in front of him. So, you sucked up your pride and your annoying feelings and sat back down, reaching over and linking his hand with yours.

Your touch seemed to sooth him, his eyes fluttered shut and he smiled softly, “Thank you.”

So you sat by his side, talking through the night and part of the next morning. It was safe to say your feelings weren’t going away any time soon.

FIFTH YEAR

Coming into the year, Harry had been conflicted. Half the people at school believed him, and the other half didn’t.

What he found especially strange, though, was that he didn’t care what anyone though, as long as you were on his side.

“Of course, why would you lie about that?” you had said casually one evening in the common room, “Whoever doesn’t believe you will just have a horrible shock when he shows himself. Can’t say we didn’t warn them.”

Harry grinned at you, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” you grinned back.

You had noticed throughout the year how he had been behaving differently. He always asked your opinion, he hung around with you after DA practices were over, and the two of you even went to Hogsmeade alone one afternoon, sharing a laugh over a butterbeer and reminiscing about the simpler days when your only problem was an escaped Basilisk.

Hermione had tried telling you his change in attitude was because he was falling for you too, but you had found it hard to believe. There was no proof and you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“He hasn’t been asking us how we think he’s doing,” Ron told you, raising his eyebrows, “I have to agree with Hermione here.”

“See, even Ronald agrees,” Hermione smirked.

You wanted to believe them, you really did. But it became hard when Harry hid his feelings and emotions so well.

Which is why, one night when you were finishing up another DA meeting and you had stayed behind to clean up the mess, you had been frozen in place by Harry’s lips lightly pressing against yours.

You had kissed him back, naturally, but it was hard to tell whether this was a ‘I’m feeling lonely’ kiss or a ‘I really like you’ kiss. Both of you had pulled away immediately, staring at each other wide-eyed until you laughed it off.

Neither of you mentioned it to Ron or Hermione, but being intuitive as ever, they were both able to tell something had happened between the two of you.

And that something stayed on your mind all summer. Despite the loss of Sirius, despite the threat of the looming war, all you could think about was Harry and how delicately he had kissed you that night.

You were done for.

SIXTH YEAR

Friendship with Harry had changed drastically. Every time you were together now, you shared lingering touches and playful flirting.

There was still a heavy feeling in the air, none of you guys wanting to address it, but you had fun spending the year flirting and teasing him.

You had cheered him on during Quidditch, gotten close to him during parties, sat next to him during meals, and even classes. He seemed to have eyes only for you, and you for him.

“Told you he liked you back,” Hermione boasted about her prediction, “I’m always right.”

“Chill it,” you chuckled, “He hasn’t said anything about liking me back, exactly. We’ll see.”

Luckily for you, Harry had completely ignored most of the girls who now showed interest in him, his eyes focused on you and only you. It was almost too much for you to handle. He had been so caring, so gentle and kind, you often forgot he was still just a friend.

When he won the Felix Felicis in Potions one afternoon, you wondered if he’d use it to ask you out. He didn’t, but you felt lucky enough having him throw compliments at you and get you flustered. 

It was no question to you that after Dumbledore died, you would follow Harry until the ends of the Earth to hunt down the Horcruxes and defeat the Dark Lord.

Honestly, you’d follow him to the ends of the Earth even if the fate of the Wizarding World wasn’t at stake. He was Harry, your Harry, and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. 

SEVENTH YEAR

The decision to not return to Hogwarts had been unanimous between you, Harry, Ron and Hermione. None of you thought it was a good decision, nor did any of you want to sit back and let Harry deal with this himself. You spent the summer at the Burrow, finally getting to see Harry again after an eventful Polyjuice Potion filled night. 

“We’re always going to be with you, Harry,” you pulled him in for a hug the evening of the wedding as the two of you swayed slowly on the dance floor, “Always.”

“That means so much to me,” he mumbled into your hair, sending shivers down your spine, “Couldn’t do this without you.”

And that’s how you ended up here, months later, fighting on the school grounds. Bodies had been scattered across the grand corridors, the same corridors that you had called home for six years. Bodies of students that you shared classes with, bodies of students you had seen in the Great Hall.

You weren’t sure how this had happened, how this war had become so devastating and crumbling, but you knew there was no way you’d back out. This wasn’t just Harry’s fight, it was yours too.

You ran through the halls, spells bouncing off of walls and screams echoing through the stone walls, your mind set on Harry.

You bumped into Ron on the way, who had his arms wrapped tightly around Hermione, both of them looking pale and bloodied. They seemed worse for wear, but both smiled upon seeing you safe and uninjured.

“Have you guys seen Harry?” your voice was shaky, wand gripped tightly between your fingers.

Ron shook his head, “Not in a while.”

Your heart dropped, “Where could he be?”

“Dunno,” Ron shrugged, scanning his eyes over Hermione once more to make sure she wasn’t seriously injured.

“Well, let’s go find him, then!” you glared at the two of them, not understanding how they could be so nonchalant about the whole situation. They seemed more focused on each other. Which wasn’t a major surprise, you knew they’d end up together, but this wasn’t the time.

As you darted down the main corridor, Hermione and Ron also keeping their eyes peeled, you came to a stop in front of the marble staircase, students screaming and rushing by you going unnoticed.

Harry stood ar the top of the stairs, looking down at you all, his face both grateful and exhausted.

“Harry,” you signed, nudging Hermione and Ron to look over. Both their faces broke out into massive grins as they looked at him, relieved.

Before anyone could do or say anything, you took off up the stairs, stopping only when you reached Harry. He smiled at you, face covered in dirt and blood, but his charming smile was enough to get your heart fluttering.

“Hey,” you breathed out, placing your arms around him and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. You seriously hoped he hadn’t injured any ribs or he’d be in even more pain.

“Y/N,” he sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you just as tightly, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“As am I,” you grinned, pulling away and scanning him, “I was so worried about you. We can’t stay separated from now on, it’s too risky—,”

He cut you off by placing his hands on the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. You were stunned, glued to the spot, but you leaned into his touch and kissed back, lips moulding against his. He tasted slightly like blood, but you pushed past it and reeled in the feeling of his touch. Your heart was soaring, your knees threatening to buckle under you as he poured all his feelings into the gesture.

He ran his tongue against your bottom lip before pulling away, eyes clouded and a lazy grin on his lips, “Y/N, I’m in love with you. And I know this isn’t a great time to do this but I just... I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’ve been crazy about you for two years now.”

“I’ve been crazy about you since third year,” you pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes flutter shut, “Can’t beat that. I wanted to tell you so long ago but I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same.”

He lifted his forehead away from yours and pressed his lips quickly to yours once more. For someone who had just been through a war, his kiss was surprisingly soft. His hands gripped your waist and yours found their way into his hair.

After the kiss ended, you looked down to Ron and Hermione who were both grinning broadly and shooting you both a thumbs up. Harry chuckled, pulling you in close to him and resting his head against yours. The war surrounding you seemed distant, forgotten even, as you focused on solely him.

“We’ll make it out of this together, yeah?” he asked softly so only you could hear him.

“Yeah, we will.”

And you were right. After the war ended, you and Harry continued your relationship and it blossomed quickly. He had promised to love you, and he did exactly that. He was the most caring, generous and loving person you had ever met and you felt like the luckiest person alive to have him by your side.

You were absolutely smitten for Harry Potter and there was nothing that could possibly be done to change that.

[genaleah]

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible. 

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that. 

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually. 

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done. 

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess?  🤔  I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc.  It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere.  Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM  Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with. 

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite. 

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join: 

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, blackmail, mention of underage drinking, BURIED ALIVE IN DETAIL, GORE, DEATH, SPIDERS, mild CLAUSTROPHOBIA

wc; 14.1k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The hallway’s silence is deafening, filled with only your breaths. Bodies are lined up against the wall on each side, all sitting. Across from you are the Dauntless-born initiates, and on both of your sides are your fellow transfers. The person that stares at you through the darkness is Blaire, who twists the end of his shirt around his finger, stretching it and leaving wrinkles.

He’s obviously distracted, eyes not seeing you, but the space beyond it. It’s the exact same look that a few others have. It’s gone quickly, though, all with a simple accidental bump from Nestor. A smile spreads across Blaire’s face, eyes immediately going to his friend to give a gentle push back, ultimately starting a shoving match.

Down the line, from left to right, is Sydney, Nestor, Blaire and Ameer. As for Mirza, Horace, Cass and Lennox, they’ve already been called into the room with Laurel. She takes each of you one by one, in no particular order. You originally thought it was alphabetical, the theory was gone as quickly as it came when she called Thyme first. Her last name is Tattrie.

To your left is Trink, she twirls a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, laughing at Blaire and Nestor. To your right is Finnick, with Eytelle on the very end. There’s a large gap between you and Finnick, and that’s because Allio and Thyme were there before they were called in.

For the first stage of initiation, your two groups were ranked separately. The real challenge begins here, now that you’ve been combined. You had started with eighteen, but with four being cut in the last stage, there are now fourteen. On the way here, Laurel told you not to stress out, no one will be getting cut this time around. The next stage, the final stage, is when all final decisions will be made. This is just the preparation.

You watch as Nestor bounces against Sydney too hard, sending her to the side. Her hand slaps against the ground, stopping her from hitting the floor. Instantly, her hair flies out of her face as she glares at the back of Nestor’s head, “Can the two of you stop it?”

Blaire is laughing too loudly, causing Nestor not to hear. He knocks into Sydney, she doesn’t waste time making her point known. She shoves Nestor from behind, sending him flying into Blaire.

You crack a smile, watching as the two boys then go to gang up on her. In no time, the hallway is filled with screeching giggles, kicking to get them off. For a moment, Blaire turns his attention to you, eyebrows and hands raised as a challenge. If he even dares...

You back away from him, sitting flush against the wall, “Unlike Sydney, I’ll aim for the face.”

Trink lets out a noise that’s closest to a laugh, “Oh! That’s true, and she’s brutal.”

No one responds to what she says immediately, until Ameer is leaning forward, barely coming out of the shadows and into the soft blue light, “Brutal?” he challenges, “What did you rank, again?”

Sydney and Nestor are beginning to relax now, interested in the conversation that’s about to be had. You accidentally catch a glimpse of their hands intertwining, and end up forcing yourself to look at Ameer for a distraction. You can already feel the judgement rolling back on. After what happened during breakfast, you’re not sure if you want your friends to catch on again.

In Abnegation, relationships happen, obviously, but they are not physical and out in the open like this. They are supposed to be private and to keep others from feeling uncomfortable. Your parents had been married for years and there’s not a single time you can recall them kissing. Hugging, maybe, but all the intimate movements would have to be saved for private.

This is different, new and something you have to overcome before it’s recognized as a weakness by others.

Your eyes lock with Ameer, “Second.”

Something flashes across his face, disbelief, you think it is, “How many wins did you have?”

“Two.”

The doubt is settling in, you can tell by the way he squints his eyes, mouth puckering as he watches you carefully, “Who was first?”

“Allio, he had three wins.” your hands find each other, fingers intertwining. He’s going to come to the same exact realization that the rest of you did. That there is foul play and you are undeserving of your title.

Ameer’s eyes break contact with yours to find Finnick. His head is tilted in your direction, listening in on the conversation like he’s anticipating his turn to be the topic. But he doesn’t say anything, only waits patiently.

“I thought Finnick was leading?” Ameer asks, eyebrows drawing in.

“Not anymore,” your words are crisp, “He’s third, with three wins.”

There it is, the questioning look from Ameer. He doesn’t have to tell you that it doesn’t make sense, you’re already nodding. You know, Finnick knows, everyone else in your group knows. There is nothing you can do about it, not that you would want to anyway.

“I’m brutal,” you give him a smile, like that statement alone is enough to erase his questions. You won’t leave him hanging, it’s hard not to brag with the next sentence, “Who do you think did that to his face?”

Ameer doesn’t respond at first.

Since yesterday, you’ve decided that you shouldn’t let the others know that you’re semi-friendly with Finnick. On the off-chance that they let Thyme know, or she somehow finds out, you’ll automatically be fucked. However, it doesn’t matter that much, anyway. You were stopped in your tracks when you realized that this is the fastest that Finnick has ever turned around. It’s a red flag.

And it could be because of a number of things you’ve said to him. It could be because you’ve known each other since forever, since you were infants. To him, you are the last thing he has from home. He is almost the same to you, except you have someone to fill that gap of homesickness.

His name does not start with an F.

What you know for sure, is that you don’t want to head into things blindly regarding Finnick, not with Thyme around.

Ameer glances at Finnick again, the gears turning in his head. You watch his eyebrows raise slightly, “You have to be kidding. Finnick’s like a whole foot taller than you.”

You cross your arms instead, it feels more natural this way, “So?”

“So,” he mocks your tone, “You couldn’t possibly reach up that far, right?”

There’s a few things wrong with what Ameer is saying, and the first thing is that Finnick is not a whole foot taller than you. You and Finnick have got distance, but it is a much easier gap to close than what Amos had against Eytelle. The second, is that he’s suggesting that you’re not good enough. And you’re not sure if he wants to head down that path with you.

You can feel your face darken, teeth pressing into each other, “Would you like to test that theory?”

Ameer opens his mouth, going to speak, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth, shakes his head, and falls back against the wall like he’s trying to escape the door he had just opened.

It’s too bad for him, because you still have more to say, “I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, anyway.” you lift your head back up, eyebrows in, “If I remember right, you placed fifth. Which is kinda embarrassing, considering you’re the son of one of the leaders.” 

His eyes narrow, mind changing again, “At least we know I didn’t cheat.”

You smile, “Ameer if it’s a fight that you’re looking for, all you have to do is ask.”

He stares at you, jaw clenching and unclenching. It’s pretty obvious to you that whatever minor friendship that had been forming between the two of you, is now gone. Which means that you can probably go ahead and assume that Mirza is off the table too. 

It’s a shame because Ameer isn’t all that bad to be around, but the timing of all of this is wrong. You’ve been walked on too many times in the past couple of days and it’s starting to get irritating. You’re not about to bite your tongue with him, especially since you don’t know him all that well, anyway.

In the end, this could all be reversed, you’re sure. A little spout like this won’t stick in Dauntless. Not when initiation ends and all of you have met the end of the tunnel. It’ll be like water under the bridge, a memory you can laugh at.

The door at the end of the hallway opens, making you all look over. Laurel is the one standing in the doorway, leaned up against the frame, “(Y/n).”

You rise from the floor, making a point to avoid Ameer’s extended legs, just in case he gets any bright ideas. Unfortunately, you think you’ve had more than your fair share of tripping during school. After Erudite started releasing the reports, it just got worse.

Laurel moves back and out of the way, allowing you to come inside. You only get a few steps in, looking around the room before you stop. Laurel has already reached out, pulling the door shut behind the two of you. She slips by as if your stillness isn’t a surprise.

In the middle of the room sits the same exact chair that you had sat in during the aptitude test. Beside it is the machine that looks a lot like the one that was used to measure your decisions for your future faction. However, in this room, there are no mirrors for you to stare into. There’s barely any light, and the only other object in the room is a computer sitting on a desk in the corner, emitting a small amount of light.

“Go ahead and sit.” Laurel says, standing in front of the machine, you slowly make your way over.

If the chair is here, it means that you’re going to be subjected to another simulation, there’s no question about that. What you’re really worried about is the results and whether or not they’re going to be reported. Laurel and Caspian might be okay with it, but they’re just two out of the several hundreds of people in Dauntless.

If Laurel has to report the results, there’s no way she’s going to be able to manually insert them like last time, not without seeming suspicious.

You slowly slide into the chair, “What simulation do I have to go through today?”

“You’ll be facing one of your fears today,” her eyes meet yours, “your results will be sent to the administrators for review.”

You press your lips together, wanting to ask her if there’s danger in doing this. But you don’t even have to ask, you already know the answer, and it’s yes. Mox told you plainly that this would be easy for you, which is basically a red flag, especially after how hard the first stage was. This should be just as, maybe more, difficult.

“Okay,” you say, as if you’re agreeing. You don’t really have much of a choice.

“Stay still, I have to inject the serum.” she says, coming around the chair. In her hands is the syringe, tinted orange because of the liquid. She has her thumb against the plunger, ready to go. The needle looks longer than what you’re used to at the doctor’s office.

With a shaky hand, you move your hair behind your shoulder so that she has easy access to your neck. You wonder why they can’t just make you drink the liquid instead of injecting it. Sometimes needles aren’t a bother with you--you’re sure that it won’t show up during the simulation--but it’s bigger than usual.

Either way, you sit as still as possible when Laurel presses the needle into your neck. The pinch is much more painful this time around, the ache begins before it’s even been removed. You stare straight ahead at the door, wondering what the others are talking about now that you’re gone. It might even include Finnick.

It’s an instant relief when the needle is removed, “You have sixty seconds before it kicks in,” Laurel sounds like she’s standing behind you, probably next to the machine again, “To put this stage simply, we’ll be training you to get over your fears--or at least make them manageable. Just in case you were to come across a situation that would involve it in the real world.

“The serum induces a hallucination, and I’ll get to monitor what you’re doing the entire time. After, this will all be submitted to the administrators, as I told you before. You will stay in the hallucination until you can calm yourself down by lowering your heart rate and controlling your breathing.”

While she talks, you can feel your heart start pounding in your chest, hands automatically gripping onto the arms of the chair. They slip against the metal because of the sweat, making it impossible for you to feel stable. When you realize this, you try taking deep breaths, desperate to know if you can end the simulation before it begins.

Laurel gently places her hand on your shoulder, coming around the chair and into your line of sight, near the door. Your eyes flicker to her.

“Take your time, you’ll be okay.” she smiles.

You fall back against the headrest.

And jolt awake hard enough to hit your head on the ceiling above you. A groan leaves your lips as you press your head back down against the floor beneath you. Wherever you are, it’s dark and it’s going to take you a second to adjust to see. 

You run your fingers against the floor, eyebrows knit together as you try to figure out what it is. It’s not cold or grooved, so you’d like to confidently say that it isn’t concrete or wood. It feels smooth, almost soft against your fingertips--silk? You move your hand to touch your forehead, still aching from your initial wake, when your elbow hits a wall.

You lift your head now, staring down at your feet through the darkness. When you extend your toe, you can feel another wall. The final one sits behind your head, which has to mean that you’re boxed in somewhere. You press your hands firmly against the top, pushing as hard as you can. They don’t think that you’re claustrophobic, do they?

You could sit in this box for the rest of your life if it weren’t for the elements. The problem is that Laurel said she’s just monitoring, she’s not actually picking and choosing the scenes you go into, unlike the aptitude test. She might be able to end the test early if needed, but you think that would be the extent of it.

The top of the box isn’t budging, and you’ve got your arms locked out straight, shoulder blades pressing into the fabric beneath you. You don’t know what’s locking you in here, maybe steel or wood, but you’re pretty sure you’re not going to be able to get out. Even a solid half-kick doesn’t break anything, only sends pains shooting through your toes.

Well, for a fear-facing simulation, it really missed the mark. A box with no escape doesn’t really have any effect on you, which means that with a couple of deep breaths, you’ll be out of here in no time. 

Resting your head against the box again, you close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. Even a couple of seconds later, you feel much better. You can see yourself waking up in the chair, with Laurel standing two feet or so away.

The silence is disturbed by a thudding sound on the other side of the ceiling. You stare, mouth turned into a frown, “Hello?”

As you wait, you press your hand to the ceiling in front of you again, wanting to know if it’s going to come loose now, but it’s just as stuck as it was before. There’s no vocal response that you can hear, just another thud, except it sounds like rocks raining down on the other side, dirt that sounds like sand.

Maybe you weren’t loud enough, “Hello?”

Still nothing, besides the rock sound. 

Actually, there’s a faint murmur, you have to strain to hear what’s being said. Even then, you can make out only half of the words. You think you hear ‘dead’, ‘coffin’ and ‘dirt’ all in the same sentence. Which is ridiculous, right? You’re not dead, so there would be no reason to bury you. But it would explain the rock sound.

“Hey!” You scream, face twisting as you slam your hands against the lid. If this is a coffin, then the lid should’ve budged by now. It isn’t moving, though, not as far as you can tell.

You keep screaming, slamming the toe of your shoe in the same place over and over, hoping that you can kick a hole through the wood. Unless it isn’t wood, which would explain why they can’t hear you, concrete absorbs sounds like they don’t even exist.

They’re going to leave you down here if you don’t find a way to catch their attention. Then you’ll be left to starve, your family mourning even though they don’t have to. You scream louder, your throat becomes sore, tears appear in your eyes. You pause, huffing out air, making you realize just how warm it is in here, and how limited your air is.

“Help!” you fall back against the floor, breathing through your mouth, “please!”

The thudding on the other side of the coffin is much softer now, not as prominent before. You can already picture the dirt encasing you, ensuring that you won’t escape. It’ll look exactly like when your parents had been buried, one after the other. You remember thinking that you’ll never see them in person again.

You grit your teeth, letting the tears roll down the sides of your face and into your ears. You need to get out of here, and the only way you can do that is if you let this go.

Your nails dig into your palm, trying to ignore the music that’s playing above you. Laurel told you that the trick to this is deep breaths and slowing your heartbeat. It’s just a hallucination, you’re not actually buried underground. You’re in the chair, you’re in the chair, you’re in the chair…

You open your eyes, only to be blinded by the one light in the room. Without being prompted, you get to your feet, arms wrapping around your upper body as a hug. You don’t care what happens next, all you know is that you can’t be laying down anymore. The way that the chair is angled is too similar to how you were inside of the coffin.

Laurel is pulling wires off of her face with a neutral expression. Her eyes find yours briefly, before she heads over to the machine, which is clearly more important than your wellbeing. 

A gust of cold air from a vent makes you remember the tears on your face, and you work quickly to wipe the wetness off with your shirt. You sniff and readjust and rub your knuckles, the feeling of pounding on the lid won’t go away. It’s a phantom feeling, the sister of the pain in your feet from trying to kick free.

“Well,” Laurel drags out the word slightly, “In comparison to the other initiates I’ve seen today, you were, by far, the quickest to come out.”

You have to ask, “Is that good or bad?”

“If you keep it up, you’ll be number one when the rankings come out.” She doesn’t say it outright, but her eyes do. If you’re in and out then you’ll definitely attract attention, something that you don’t want.

“What’s the average time?”

“Sixteen to eighteen,” she presses her lips together, “You were out in a little less than four minutes.”

Oh.

Oh, that is not good at all.

“Okay,” you say, but it’s not, you feel like screaming. You need to find a way to purposely spend more time in the hallucinations. But you’re not sure how to do that, because what felt like ten minutes inside of the hallucination, was only four minutes for you.

“You can leave the same way you came in.” Laurel gives you a smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you.” you murmur, slipping out of the door and back into the hallway’s darkness.

Unfortunately, on the way out, you have to pass by your friends. When all of the others had come out of the room, you weren’t paying attention to their faces. Most of them, like Horace and Cass, you didn’t really care for. But now it matters, especially since it’s only friends that are left. And they’re definitely going to want to look at you.

Their laughter quiets the closer you get. The first person to look up is Finnick, eyebrows together as he looks over your face. You force a quick smile, passing by him while being careful to avoid Ameer’s feet again. No one speaks, until Blaire grabs your hand.

“Any advice?”

You place your hand over his, “Focus on your breathing.”

He lets you go, just in time for the need to hug yourself comes back. You carefully wrap your arms around your upper body, before taking the next corner.

You wait in that hallway for a while, leaned up against the wall to blend in. You don’t know who you want to see first, Blaire or Trink? Or maybe Finnick? You’re hoping it’s not Ameer, but you really wouldn’t mind hanging out with only Sydney and Nestor again.

The person that rounds the corner first is Finnick, you reach out to grab his arm, ultimately scaring him. When his eyes land on you, you can see that he’s already pretty shaken, so maybe this wasn’t the best move. You’re not sure standing in the middle of the hallway would have been much better, though.

“Hey,” you say, “Are you busy?”

He shakes his head, you go ahead and readjust your grip on his arm, pulling him along with you. You make sure to take the hallways that won’t bring you to the dormitory, or anywhere near it. If there’s a chance that Thyme is waiting for him nearby, you’d rather take the long route to the chasm.

The silence isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. However, you are surprised that Finnick doesn’t try to start a conversation on the way. You guess that since you’re the one taking him somewhere, you should be the one to talk. But it’s always been Finnick that can’t stand the silence, you know how to sit through it.

He’s lucky that the chasm isn’t a far walk. As soon as the roaring of the rushing water comes into earshot, you release him and let him decide how close he wants to get. The first couple of times you came out here, you didn’t want to get near the railing, unsure of how sturdy it was. Now you know it can hold your bodyweight, doesn’t tilt or come loose or anything.

“I would’ve talked in the dorm but I thought I’d show you where I disappear to all the time,” you say, turning to face him while practically sitting on the railing. You can feel the breeze blow against your back, reminding you not to lean too far, “I don’t want to argue, Finnick, so please just bite your tongue for a minute.”

He’s making his way towards you at his own pace, “Okay.”

You watch his face for a moment to make sure that he actually is calm this time, because every time the two of you talk, it always seems to end in an argument. It doesn’t help that the irritation is already high because Thyme is trailing him. But for once, with her not here, you feel good.

“I want to tell you everything, but I would rather do the meaningless stuff first.” you can be honest with Finnick, you know this. You’re just afraid of creating a problem that doesn’t need to be made.

Finnick stops across from you, leaning against the rock wall. He hums out a response.

“You also can’t tell Thyme I’m talking to you,” your words pick up pace, “I’ll explain it all later, she just can’t catch wind of this.”

A crease appears between his eyebrows, “Okay.”

You begin picking at your nails, feeling smaller than him. This shouldn’t feel like a confession, but it does, “It was mostly during the first stage, because we were fighting the others. And kinda during the gun training too, actually.” you shrug, “I don’t like it when you brag.”

His face relaxes, a smile peeking at the corner of his mouth, “That’s it? That’s why you were going off alone?”

“I told you it was meaningless.” you roll your eyes.

He’s not hiding his smile anymore, “Anything else while you’re at it?”

You shrug, “You should probably get back to the dormitory before it looks like you got lost in the halls,” you smile, “After all, I disappear all the time.”

“Right,” he says, standing up fully, “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Yeah, remember what I said about Thyme.”

Finnick winks, takes a couple of steps to leave, and then pauses. When he turns to you, his eyebrows are raised, “Can I ask you a question real quick?”

You grip onto the railing, “Shoot.”

He’s no longer smiling, “Did Thyme say something to you?”

--

Finnick sits across from you in the hallway, patiently waiting to be called into the fear facing room like the rest of you. There’s a noticeable distance between him and Thyme, an unmistakable glare in her eyes. You’re not sure what he said to her yesterday evening, but it’s made her sour. Not enough to push her away, though, she’s still sticking pretty close to him. Still, the distance between them is satisfying.

Much to his annoyance, you couldn’t tell Finnick everything. The root of the Thyme problem starts with you, and you can’t just outright tell him you’re Divergent. You know you keep saying that the two of you have known each other since you were kids, but if a person like Thyme can come in and wreck shit within a week… 

You told him what you could, specifically what Mox and Keely said about her. You couldn’t go into great detail, mostly because they didn’t give you anything to go off of in the first place. However, the moment you told Finnick that Mox was dead serious, he seemed to sober up and believe you.

If there’s one tell tale sign that Mox isn’t lying, it’s when he’s completely serious. It’s such a stark contrast to his normal lighthearted demeanor, and he never abuses the look. Unlike Reed, who’s had the same expression on his face ever since your parents died. It’s like the joy was sucked right out of him.

Anyway, you and Finnick are definitely making progress. He might not know all the details just yet, but at the pace you’re going, you two will be back to normal in no time. He knows that Thyme isn’t what she appears to be, and that she said something to you after your family left.

Thyme’s blackmail will end as quickly as it started.

“What was your fear?” Lennox asks Trink, fixing the laces on his shoe.

Trink half-shrugs, “Something stupid, I’m not even that scared of it.”

You resist the urge to contradict her. No one got a full night of sleep last night, which isn’t her fault. Everyone was stuck in their own personal nightmare as soon as they fell asleep. Sucked into a world they thought was under control and torn to shreds immediately because they didn’t make the rules in there.

Let’s just say you didn’t sleep in your bed for long after realizing that you might as well have been back in that coffin. Hard bed, dark room, only your thoughts to accompany you. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach each time you think about going back to bed. 

“You don’t have to act tough,” you murmur, causing Lennox, Trink and Blaire to turn in your direction, “I couldn’t even sleep last night.”

“Yeah, we know,” Thyme says, not missing a beat, “You’re so fucking loud.”

You look at her, “Are you sure it wasn’t the sound of your own sobs that woke you up?”

Her face twists, “Don’t you forget--”

“Thyme!” a voice shouts, it’s Laurel. She’s a few steps out of the doorway, “Are you fucking deaf? Let’s get going!”

Thyme shoots you a glare, not finishing her sentence. She gets to her feet, shuffling down the hallway and vanishing behind the Door of Hell.

It’s quiet for a moment, Trink is the one to break the silence, “Forget what?”

You wave your hand, trying to come up with some excuse. Trink will pry, and Lennox will go with it to add peer pressure. You’ve seen it too many times now, with Sydney and Nestor. They are purebred Dauntless, and they will raise the stakes to get what they want.

You need a pacifier, a sacrifice that’s small and insignificant to keep them from pushing later on.

A laugh peels from you, “She found out the fear from yesterday, and she thinks that she’s going to use it against me,” your eyes find Finnick’s, hoping that he catches the subtle hint, “But if I tell you guys, it’ll have no effect, right?”

Trink nods, bobbing her head right next to Lennox. The two of them are so hungry for drama that it hurts. You’re glad to know that you have one humble friend, Blaire tells you that you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t think any of you will get the chance to bury me alive.” you wink at Blaire, who smiles shyly back at you, “It’s one of those things that are ridiculous.”

Trink keeps nodding, “Yours makes me feel so much better about mine,” her face is turning a slight shade of red, “Like, public humiliation is the least of my worries, honestly. Not getting into Dauntless is my big number one.”

“Isn’t it everyone’s?” Blaire sighs.

Lennox lets out a scoff that sounds like a snort, “Not mine, I’m going to trump you losers in the next ranking round.”

You press your lips together, because unless he’s going to magically beat four minutes, he’s not trumping anything. You’re sure that it’s important to be confident in Dauntless, but you can’t imagine how many times people have to eat their words.

And that gives you an idea.

You turn to Lennox, “I bet the remainder of my points that you won’t be number one.”

Blaire sucks in air through his teeth, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Lennox is the epitome of perfection when it comes to Dauntless standards.”

Lennox smirks a little, you know that he won’t turn down the challenge, “How many points?”

“I’m sporting nineteen right now.”

The smirk widens into a grin, “I have twenty.”

You hold your hand out, he takes it without a hint of hesitation. He’s going to get his ass kicked, and he doesn’t even realize. The two of you shake, and when you fall back against the wall, Finnick has a smile too. 

“What do you even need twenty more points for?” Trink asks.

“A new wardrobe.”

She lets out a dreamy breath, “Okay, I approve.”

You let out a laugh, which the others join in on.

About fifteen minutes later, Laurel opens the door, letting Thyme out and calling you in, “(Y/n).”

You take your time getting to your feet, thanking your friends when they wish you luck. You’re sure you’re not going to need it, it’s them who will have to worry about the rankings when they come out. You slip past Thyme, the door clicking shut behind you. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, heading over to the chair.

“Same to you.” Laurel murmurs, “The needle will go into your arm today.”

You’d prefer that, anyway. Having needles go into your neck is just wrong somehow. All the shots that have ever been delivered to you, have been through your arm. It’s less of a risk of doing permanent damage, besides scarring.

You slip in the chair, face twisting when you realize how warm it is.

“She was sweating,” Laurel comes around the side, syringe in hand, “You’re lucky that I could wipe it down.” You give Laurel a look, and after a moment she cracks a smile, “Sit still and stop mean mugging me.”

You let your head lay against the headrest, curling your toes when her needle breaks skin. The ache in your arm is a lot more forgettable this time, compared to your neck. The pinch is gone quickly, and you watch as she goes to tend to the machine. Once again, you’re left to stare into the empty room.

“You have sixty seconds before it kicks it.”

You don’t bother to tell her that you know already, and the fact that you can feel the effects begin to kick in around fifteen seconds. Unlike yesterday, today your throat squeezes tightly as if you’re having an allergic reaction, making it difficult to breathe. It doesn’t help that the urge to run is beginning to settle in, you grip the arms of the metal chair to keep yourself grounded.

“Remember to breathe,” Laurel’s voice is sounding faraway, a whisper compared to the rapid beating in your chest, “And take your time.”

You want to tell her that you will, but your teeth are glued to each other, mouth dry, and you’re drifting. Once again, you find yourself trying to hold on through the little things. Like how the metal is digging into your palm, and there’s sobbing coming from somewhere.

You fall, head slamming into the ground beneath you. Your face immediately twists, eyes squeezing shut. When you reach to rub the spot, you notice that you’re not confined in a coffin this time, but it is dark enough for you to feel like you’re blind. So, you take it easy while trying to sit up.

The floor beneath you is wood, you can tell because of the paneling. It feels worn, like it hasn’t been replaced in years. And a little uneven, some will dip in the middle, gaps between wood, drop offs that’ll catch the tip of shoes. Almost like the rock flooring in Dauntless, except wood is rare here. Besides the dormitory, the only other place is the training room.

With that, a single light floods the dark room as a reward for cracking the code. The light is on you, once again blinding you. You cover your eyes as you look around, you can see the door to leave is on the right, so you must be sitting where you used to stand during the fights. And if that’s right, then the circle is in front of you.

The light shifts as you raise to your feet, trying to squint through the white. You don’t know what fear this correlates to, but the sick feeling rising in your stomach is telling you not to underestimate the situation. Everything was fine in the last simulation up until you started to become aware of your surroundings.

You shuffle forward, being careful not to snag your shoes on the floorboards. As you get closer to the circle, there’s a familiar smell in the air. The stench is strong, though, enough for your stomach to hurl, pushing you to the edge. You cough to ease the tension in your throat, but it ends in a gag.

Sucking in air through your nose just makes it worse. The smell of blood is normally manageable for you, since it’s always been small or in adrenaline-fueled hazes, but this is different. This is all you can smell, all you can think about. You need to find the source, find who’s bleeding and stop it.

A few more steps, and you come crashing to the world. You slip hard, falling on your ass. The pain in your tailbone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, but you’re more concerned about the pool of blood you’re sitting in. And the person it’s coming from.

His face is tilted away from you, blood soaking his brown hair. You get on your knees so that you can lean over him, hands trembling. He’s pale, his green eyes are staring into the darkness. They quickly flicker to you when you accidentally let out the shaky breath you were holding.

Finnick Odair is bleeding out in the training room.

And you don’t know what to do about it.

His black shirt is stuck to his skin, riding up slightly. You think that the source is his stomach, but there’s no holes or anything. Which makes you think it’s his back, you shouldn’t move him though, right?

“I…” you whisper, he’s waiting on you, he wants you to save him, “I don’t…”

He looks exactly like he did after the fight, when you beat him to near unconsciousness. You can picture the way his head rolled to the side once he was on the wheelchair, Cleo pushing him out. How his eyes stuck with yours until he couldn’t look anymore.

Except, this time he’s bleeding out.

“Okay,” you breathe, even though it’s not, “I’m going to--I’m gonna help.”

You sniff, hands gliding through the air to grab the end of his shirt. You carefully pull it up, trying your best to avoid the red, even though your jeans are already soaked in it. If you took off your clothes, you’d be stained, permanently tinted.

No. No, only temporarily.

The wound is on his stomach, a slit that mimics the one of a knife, making you freeze. 

This is what your dad looked light, bleeding out in the factionless streets, all by himself. Hurt, pale, the grey clothes of Abnegation selflessness soaked the angry shade of maroon. And he was dead, curled up and clutching to his wedding ring.

You sob, throat still swollen, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. You tilt your head back, white light shining in your eyes as you cry. You try to suck in air through your mouth, but the revolting smell of metal and dirt has infiltrated your senses, and you can’t without violently gagging.

A gentle touch startles you out of your train of thought, reminding you that he’s there. Finnick gives you a closed-lipped smile that reaches his eyes. He breathes in through his nose too sharply, triggering him to cough, sending blood out. His face is twisted in pain, you jerk forward to help him lower his head back to the ground.

You need to focus.

“Okay,” you breathe again, tilting your head to the side, “This will hurt.”

And it does. You press your hands to the wound on his stomach, hoping that will be enough to stifle the blood. There’s not much you can do in the first place without a doctor, and that job is normally dedicated to the Erudite. In the meantime, you need to get out of here.

The moment you start breathing deeply, a new problem arises. A second hole that you didn’t see before, further up his chest. But the more you move his shirt, more appears, like the simulation is trying to keep you from saving him. You have to, though, and you will.

You move to take off your shirt, placing it on the--what you now recognize as--bullet holes. You press down on the area with the other hand, since it’s separate from the first. You try to give Finnick a comforting smile, it’s hard to because you don’t know what you’re doing. The pool of blood is just widening, reaching the circle’s white line.

It gets worse, some pain in his leg appears, and then his arm. You can hear him moaning in pain, but there’s only so much you can do. You try to cut off the blood flow, and a wound will appear above it, defeating the purpose, getting you more wet. You’re sure that he should be dead by now.

It’s like he’s a test dummy, seeing how many injuries they can rack up on him. And instead of torturing him, it’s torturing you. You’ve used your belt, and your shirt. His shirt is too risky to take off, and Finnick doesn’t normally wear a belt. And you have both of your hands stopping blood, both of his barely pressing hard anymore, and a leg draped over his thigh as if you’re fucking helping anymore.

All the while his eyes are drooping, and you think he’s saying something to you but you can’t hear him, can’t read his lips through the tears in your eyes. Not to mention, you can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t keep him awake. You can’t fucking help. Why was it you that found him? Why couldn’t someone else have walked in?

“Finnick, please,” your voice is scratchy, throat incredibly sore from the sobs, “Please don’t go, please stay with me.”

His head is rocking from side to side, is he shaking his head? You don’t know, you don’t understand. He can’t leave you, Finnick can’t leave you, not like this. He’ll hate you forever because you can’t fucking save him. All you want to do is save him.

You rock forward, hands sliding when you press your forehead to his collarbone. All you can do is apologize as you clutch onto his shirt. You can feel his arm shift from beneath you, rubbing up your back. You can’t do it, it’s a simple task and you can’t even do it.

“It’s okay.” Finnick’s voice is small, but it cuts through the silence. You raise your head to look at him, he’s got so little time left, “Breathe.”

You let out a sob, hand over your mouth. You don’t think it’s you controlling your body anymore. You think it’s autopilot, because you reach forward and cup his cheek in your right hand. A tear rolls down, creating a streak of cleanliness in a sea of blood on his face.

“Let go.” he whispers.

You jerk forward, suddenly awake in the fear facing room. Your hand is clamped over your mouth to make as little noise as possible, but you can’t help the cry that comes out. 

“Three and a half minutes.” Laurel says.

You slide out of the chair, wanting to scream because you don’t care. Five minutes, thirty minutes, one minute, it all feels the same! It feels like you’ve been holding onto dying Finnick for days, pleading for him not to leave you. You’ll be living this woken nightmare for the next few months, and you’re supposed to care that it took you three and a half minutes to get out?

You can’t shake the look that Finnick gave you at the end, the look of knowing. He knew that his time was up, and he opted for you to leave. And the worst part of it all is you don’t even know what fear that was supposed to encompass. 

“I’m done,” you say, “I can’t fucking do this anymore, I’m done.”

Laurel lets out a quiet noise, when you look at her, she’s shaking her head, “It gets easier.”

“Easier?” You ask before yelling, “Easier?! I just watched Finnick bleed to death in my arms, how does it get any easier?”

She hushes you, setting the face wires off to the side, “That’s one of your fears, something you need to come to terms with.”

You grit your teeth, “When is Finnick ever going to bleed out? Chocked full of bullet holes with no origin?”

“Fears are typically irrational, you have to know this already.” She reaches for the sleeve on her arm, yanking it up to reveal the mannequin tattoo, “I work with mannequins all day, so tell me why I would feel afraid of them if I already know that they’re harmless?”

You don’t know, how are you supposed to know?

She must not like your silence because she lets out an annoyed sigh. One that you’re all too familiar with, it sounds just like Reed’s sigh. The lecture is coming, “Haven’t you noticed the pattern so far? It’s been two days and I can already tell what you’re afraid of.”

“So tell me.” your voice is hoarse, a side effect from the simulation.

“Maybe you should spend some time trying to figure it out by yourself.”

The problem is that you don’t want to. You’ll already suffer later on tonight, so why should you bother torturing yourself right now? So much is on your plate, and more keeps getting shoved on. 

First it’s Caspian finding out that you’re Divergent, second it’s Thyme blackmailing you with it. Then Finnick crawls out of hell and decides that he wants to be friendly again, and you can’t even get help from Caspian because he’s been interfering too much already. And now you’re suffering through your own fears just so you can stay in a faction that--surprise, surprise!--is more ruthless than you initially thought.

And she wants you to spend your time thinking it over.

No. No, if anything, you think you need to get away from here.

You wave your hand, heading for the exit.

“Take the other door, you won’t be disrupted.” she says.

You spin around, heading for the door she’s talking about. It’s on the left wall, in the back corner. Compared to the right, which has the computer that contains your escape from Finnick’s demise.

You shove the door open, letting it slam against the wall on your way out. The hallway is a straight path for a while, there’s no side paths that you can take and it’ll magically bring you back to the others. Not that it matters much, it’s not like you can talk to any of them about it.

Your feet know where to bring you, straight to the same place you go every time there’s a dilemma. You don’t sit against the railing today, there’s no reason to. Finnick’s not here to talk to you, and you’re pretty sure that he’s not going to be out of the simulation for a while. And that’s under the assumption that he’s next.

You close your eyes and rest your head against the wall. The sound of the water is similar to the noise of static, making it easy to numb the mind. You need to seriously make a dent on Finnick before Thyme finds a way to draw him in again. The two of you are tugging at each of his arms, trying to get him to stay long enough to hesitate on going back to the other.

It’s been three days since the final fight, and two days since Thyme has blackmailed you. You want to think that it’s too soon to start pulling harder, especially since the peace has only been recently established, but you also don’t know how much time you have before Thyme comes in.

Plus, it’s not like Finnick has given up on you completely, right? There’s been a few instances where you’ve hit a chink in his armor, and all of them start with you. It’s never been the surface stuff, like the fact that you came from the same place. That can be easily forgotten, the saying ‘faction before blood’ doesn’t come from nowhere.

As soon as you told him that you left your family for him, he broke. And you’ll bet it’s because he knows how much family means to you. After everything that’s happened in your life, the one thing you had going was family, something that you would have never traded, but you did it for him.

It happened again later on, during the fight too. It was the vulnerability of your voice that made him hesitate. He also trailed you into the bathroom that morning, despite being tired. And you’ll bet that he wanted to talk to you, not use the toilet or whatever.

You think you’ve done it, finally cracked the code. 

He lives for the real moments, and you’re not talking about the heat of the moment when the two of you are arguing. It’s the softness, no secrets, no guards in front of the palace. The second it all started falling apart was the second you were told you were Divergent.

You and Finnick have never really had a reason to keep secrets from each other.

The sound of someone clicking their tongue fills the air, making you jump slightly. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Sydney and Nestor, both of them staring down at you. Sydney’s pulling her hair into a ponytail, Nestor has his hands shoved into his pockets, leaning back with a ruined posture.

“Are you crying?” Sydney asks, the words are slightly muffled because she doesn’t move her teeth. You think you can see a hair tie in her mouth, which is probably why.

“No,” you say. 

The tears dried themselves on the way here.

“Are you sure? Because you’re sitting out here all by yourself.” Sydney speaks normally.

“Looked like you were having a moment.” Nestor agrees.

“Haha.” you roll your eyes, getting to your feet, “What do you two want?”

Nestor half-shrugs, “Banding together a party. Ameer found some alcohol in the kitchen.”

You press your lips together, not sure which part of this story you don’t like, “Found it?”

“Ameer has sticky fingers, Mirza knows how to get in,” Sydney says, “If it helps, Maarja and a bunch of other older siblings will be there.”

You tilt your head, a sour face coming on, “Are you sure that Ameer wants me there?”

Nestor lets out a laugh, “Ameer doesn’t care, he’s probably forgotten about your argument already. Same goes for Mirza, the two of them don’t get hung up. They give it up, forget, and forgive. It’s their whole motto.”

“Which is lucky for you, because Maarja knows how to throw bomb ass parties.” Sydney says, “We just need to know whether or not Finnick should come.”

“Thyme’s already out of the question, no one wants to deal with her.”

“She’s going to know something’s up.” you say.

Sydney shrugs, “So? What’s she going to do about it?”

They’re right, as long as your name isn’t connected to the party in any way, you can’t be blamed for the fact she wasn’t invited. However, Finnick is another story. She might think you’re the one that wanted him there.

“Finnick is okay to come, but I can’t be the one to invite him. It has to be Blaire or something.” 

“We gotcha covered, we’ll pass on the message.”

Sydney grabs your upper arm, pulling you with them, “In the meantime, we’re gonna drop you off with the others.”

“The others?” you ask.

“Maarja and them, they think that you’re going to help out and get shit done since you’re from Abnegation,” Sydney says, “And we tried to tell them it was a stereotype but they said it’s worth a try.”

You can’t help but laugh, this is exactly the type of behavior that you’d expect from them. Pick at the stereotypes and hope for the best, they never really think things through. Yet, they’re in charge of important jobs like security and the entire army. 

God, is Dauntless ridiculous.

“I mean, I guess they were right.” You laugh, Sydney cracks a grin.

She slaps your upper back, “That’s the spirit! The more people you please, the more people will like you.”

“Or they’ll keep going to you for help, one or the other.” Nestor shrugs.

“And by the way, we were going to invite you either way, help or not. Maarja just wanted to push her luck.” 

“I don’t mind, seriously.”

And you don’t, because this is what Dauntless is all about. The ziplining, the fighting, facing your fears, and going to parties. You rinse and repeat the next day, and it’s just like this, over and over for the rest of your life. This is why you’re here, this is why you can’t quit.

Your two friends bring you down a series of hallways, straight to a single door. Sydney pushes it open with her hip, opening out one of your arms, as if she’s telling you to marvel. There’s not much to be amazed at, so you shoot her a questioning look.

She cracks, her laughter echoing through the large room. She catches the attention of the older siblings, they turn their bodies so that they can see. Sydney holds up a hand, “It’s just us, (Y/n) said she’d help out.”

Maarja cheers.

The floors in this room are wood, the walls rock and stone. Basically like the training room, except this room is much smaller, brighter, and there’s only one exit. You guess that makes it an easy way to lock up, but it’s definitely a fire hazard. You can’t imagine the last time anyone has been in here, though.

“I knew you’d help,” she smiles, “Do you think your Abnegation friend will too?”

“He hasn’t even been invited yet, Maar.” Sydney says.

“And he’s not exactly the selfless type, anyway.” you slide your hands into your pockets, “Hated it there.”

She shrugs, “Whatever, bring him anyway.”

You crack a smile, “So what do you need help with?”

“Everything, but shit will start coming in one at a time. We should be done before dinner.” Maarja looks past you, “Keep taking people, will you?”

“Sure.” Sydney begins backing up, “Good luck, (Y/n).”

You don’t need luck, because spending time with Maarja and the others isn’t nearly as bad as Sydney and Nestor makes it out to be. They’re fun to be around, they know how to break someone out of their shell if they’re shy. In no time, the lot of you are laughing, tears in your eyes as you change lightbulbs and set up speakers for music.

You can definitely see the resemblance between Sydney and Maarja, they’re sisters through and through. Of course, they look a lot like each other, but they also have the same laugh, the desire to be on the edge of danger all the time. Sydney had stood on the edge of that building, and Maarja stands at the top of her ladder on her toes, with no one to steady the bottom.

They playfully fight, as all siblings do in Dauntless, and bounce back as if hurtful words were nothing. If you tried half of this with Reed, you would have been scolded. Mox might have been easier, but it would have never been this fun. Mox and Reed are alike in most ways--more than you will ever know, according to Caspian--but you and Finnick are closer.

You guess it’s the age gap that does it. Mox and Reed are only two years apart, Maarja and Sydney are one and a half, you and Finnick are the same. Compared to Mox, who’s three years older, and Reed who’s five. It doesn’t seem like a gap, but it really is. Plus, all three of you have managed to have different childhoods, you can’t imagine what’s in store for Alyssum.

It’s weird to picture you and Finnick as siblings, though. The two of you don’t fight like that, don’t talk to each other like that. You wouldn’t exactly call each other polar opposites, either. However, you guess that definition fits better. You see the things he doesn’t, and he sees the things that you don’t.

“You know what they say about polar opposites,” Daziel says, he’s Lennox’s older brother. 

He’s got the exact same looks as Lennox, with the brown hair and brown eyes. He’s taller than Lennox, but shorter than Horace. When he laughs, it’s childish, yet there’s an edge to him. He leans forward as he talks, like he’s always delivering some sort of threat. 

Because of him, you’ve noticed that there’s two ends to Dauntless. The first side is like Maarja, carfree, party hard, laugh as loudly as you can and have fun because this is your youth. On the other side is Daziel, intense, scary, probably guards the walls or patrols the factionless areas, and he talks quietly because he knows that the room will fall quiet to hear. Everyone else, besides them, falls somewhere in-between.

If you were to put Daziel and Lennox together, you’d go ahead and say that they’re siblings. Their personalities don’t come close to each other--although, you do have a suspicion that Lennox looks up to Daziel, which explains the behavior--but they aren’t the same person. And yet, they were born a year apart, which contradicts what you said earlier.

You suppose that every statement has an anomaly to make it false, right?

“What do they say?” you ask. You’re currently crouched down to the floor, opening a water bottle. You’ve been trying to get the speaker to work for five minutes now, you’re sure that Trink would be better at this than you.

Torrac, Nestor’s brother, says, “They attract.”

It doesn’t take a genius to decipher that one. 

You roll your eyes, drinking the water. Like Daziel, Torrac looks a lot like Nestor, except he’s shorter. He doesn’t have that same bad posture either, and his voice is a whole lot deeper. On the spectrum that you made, he’d be closer to Maarja than Daziel.

“No, I’m serious.” Torrac stops, “It happens a lot. Sydney and Nestor weren’t always dating--”

“Much less, friends.” Maarja mutters.

“--but suddenly they came to some middle ground and started dating. Now there’s almost no difference between them. They balance each other out.” Torrac finishes.

There’s a long silence between you all, allowing actual work to get done. You get the speaker to work, and after that Daziel thinks it’s funny to speak into the mic and not help out. It’s a little annoying at first, but once Maarja cracks, you and Torrac aren’t that far behind.

“You know, you talk about Finnick a lot.” Maarja says, “Are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him?”

“Are you kidding?” Daziel doesn’t give you a chance to answer, “Lennox says Finnick talks shit about her all the time.” 

You were right when you said that Lennox is hungry for drama.

“I think you missed the part where she said that they were like this--” she crosses her fingers, one over the other, “--besides, a lot of people hate each other and then get together. Torrac literally said that ten minutes ago. Do you have cotton for brains?”

Daziel, who still holds the microphone, says, “You are the one that nearly killed yourself because you didn’t know how to harness yourself correctly. Please, keep talking.”

Maarja points her finger at him, which quickly changes into the middle finger. After that, she looks over at you, “Anyway, do you have a crush?”

You shrug, shaking your head, “No…?”

“Oh, she’s unsure!” Torrac says, he’s smiling.

“It’s official, (Y/n) has a crush on Finnick.” Daziel’s words echo loudly, “A stiff likes a stiff, why am I not surprised?”

“It’s not like that,” you say, looking to Maarja for help.

“You’ve just never thought about him like that before?” she says, you nod, “Well, congrats on your awakening, good luck.”

You open your mouth for a sarcastic response, but the door opens. The four of you look up and over to see Finnick, Ameer, Blaire and Horace. They’re all carrying different objects, with the exception of Finnick, who looks like he just came from facing his fears.

“We brought the goods.” Ameer says, holding two bottles of alcohol by the neck.

“Over here.” Torrac says, motioning them over, “Finnick, you can join (Y/n).”

You don’t like the wink that Torrac sends you, but the wolf whistle that Daziel lets loose into the microphone is worse. You cap the water bottle in your hand before hurling it at him. He has enough time to dodge, laughter filling the air.

“Hey, Finn.” You stand, he’s coming into the room, heading towards you, “Maarja is the one on the ladder, she’s Sydney’s older sister. Torrac is the one setting up the tables, related to Nestor, and,” you shoot a glare at Daziel, who gives you a bright smile, “the dumbass on the mic is Lennox’s monkey brother, Daziel.”

“They’re all older siblings?” Finnick asks.

“Yeah, they’re cool. Daziel’s on thin fucking ice.”

“I can tell,” he smiles, “Have you been here all day? Trink’s looking for you.”

“Yeah, Sydney and Nestor found me. Did Trink say what she needed?”

He shrugs, stopping next to you. He takes a look around the room, “Doesn’t look like much of a party.”

“We still have a long way to go,” Maarja agrees, she’s coming down the ladder again, “I think we just need to remove a few more bulbs and cover up the windows. Torrac can set up the tables with Blaire…” she trails off for a moment, looking at Ameer, “Hey, that’s not all you took, right?”

Ameer scoffs, “Of course not. Mirza’s taking more and he’ll be over with Lennox. I have to find a way to get us snack food, though.”

“We’ll have some chocolate cake, I know that for sure.” Horace says.

Maarja snaps, “That’s right. Okay, so snacks won’t matter, just drinks.”

“And we’ve got that covered.” Ameer is heading towards the door with Horace, “See you guys in a few.”

“Thanks!” Maarja says, she then turns towards you and Finnick, “You two work together to pull out lightbulbs.”

“Sure,” you push Finnick forward, “He’ll be the one on the ladder, though.”

“I thought you got over your fear of heights?” Maarja asks, Blaire briefly looks up from his table.

“Chicken shit.” Daziel says.

You ignore him, “I don’t feel like risking my life today.”

And you’re not lying, because you honestly don’t feel like standing on the top of the ladder like Maarja was. But the moment you see Finnick start going up, you begin picturing him standing at the top, falling, cracking his head and bleeding out on the floor, and you change your mind.

You grab the end of his shirt, “Get down.”

“What?” he asks, his face twists as he looks you over.

“Get down, I’ll go up,” you say.

“I can do it, if you don’t want to. It’s not a problem for me.”

“I know that, just... get down, please.”

He gives you a weird look, getting down. You head up the ladder, ignoring the screaming in your head. If you fall, Finnick will probably be able to catch you, but not the other way around. And you’d much rather take the chance, anyway, because he’s still recovering from the beating you gave him.

Finnick holds the ladder while you unscrew the light bulbs. When you ask Maarja how she expects all of these to get back in, she shrugs and says it’s not her problem. They plan on leaving the bulbs in a box by the door. You don’t bother to mention anything about someone stumbling along and turning on the colored lights.

Finnick does, and he’s immediately met with Daziel’s criticism. 

“You know, the older siblings are typically the smarter ones,” Finnick starts, he has to look over his shoulder to see Daziel, “It’s nice to know that you’re helping Lennox break the standards.”

You can see the sarcastic smile Finnick gives Daziel, you can’t help the giggle that leaves you. Daziel mocks it into the microphone, “Shut up and work.”

“You should be on one of these ladders, actually,” Maarja says, “You’re the tallest out of us.”

Daziel shrugs, not moving from where he sits.

“What did Daziel place in the final rankings?” Blaire asks.

“Like, fifth or something,”

“That’s not hard to believe.” Finnick mutters.

The room slowly comes together, with the lightbulbs out and the windows covered, the atmosphere is already setting in. There’s a row of tables along one wall that’s covered in the food that keeps coming, and Daziel gets up to start mixing the alcohol into other juices with Torrac and Lennox.

At some point, the only job left is to wait for the cake and start retrieving the only people that don’t know how to get to the room--Trink, Eytelle and Allio. Everyone else is on their own time schedule, and they look right at home when they enter. It’s always in clusters of three to four, with brightly colored hair and piercings that catch the light.

Maarja takes the microphone from Daziel and hides it somewhere. Then, she starts to play music somehow, none of which you and Finnick are familiar with. Music is typically only for enjoyment, so that was out of the question in Abnegation. Plus, you thought it was supposed to be an Amity-exclusive thing to listen to, anyway.

The tempo is typically upbeat, and if the artist isn’t screaming the words, then you can understand it fairly well. It isn’t long before Finnick has blended into the crowd, singing along to the repeated chorus and bouncing around. You watch him for a while, standing off to the side with Maarja as she watches the scene she created.

“Have you ever been to a party before?”

“Dinner parties with the neighbors.” you tell her.

“Dinner what?” Daziel shouts, leaning forward.

“Dinner parties! You guys probably don’t have those very often,” the looks on their faces makes you stop, “or at all, I guess. We all eat in the same room so it’s a foreign concept to you.”

“Not to me! I know what you’re talking about.” Trink nods, “Normally you invite someone over from a different house and cook for them. Sometimes they bring food so that they don’t feel awkward.”

You motion to Trink, “Except, in Abnegation it’s a custom to bring a few dishes. To let the entire other family cook would be extremely rude.”

Maarja and Daziel look vaguely horrified, “Okay, what do you do at those parties?”

“Eat, but you can’t talk about yourself. And typically gossip is rude, unless you know the family you’re eating with, really well.” you say, “You could always run the risk of someone else hearing, and reputation is very important.”

Trink’s twirling her hair around her finger, “Intelligent conversations, mostly. My family would have competitions to see who could come up with inventions that could improve lifestyle. I always won.”

Daziel stands up straight, “You two are incredibly boring.”

“How are your factions not getting along? Like, seriously?”

“Power.” you say, Trink’s bobbing her head in agreement.

Somewhere in the middle of the crowd, you spot Finnick motioning to you. You tilt your head, beginning to shake no, but Daziel shoves you forward, “Go get him!”

“I don’t dance.” you say, “It’s self-indulgent in Abnegation.”

“It’s a good time to learn, you’ll be doing a lot of it in Dauntless.” Maarja says, she then leans forward on your shoulders, talking in your ear, “Have a drink, if you’re really that nervous.” She pats you once or twice as encouragement, letting go. 

You sigh, dragging your feet as you go to find Finnick. He’s easy to lose in the crowd, since he’s just as tall as the rest of them. Still, you manage to catch a glimpse of his hair in the purple light, eyes locking with his. He moves forward slightly, hand extended to you. You slip your hand in his, and instantly get yanked forward.

It’s too loud to just speak normally here, so he leans down, “I figured out the trick, it’s just a bunch of jumping.”

He backs away, joining the crowd’s rhythm, a smile on his face. You stare at him, not moving at first, so he grabs a hold of your hands and starts moving them like a puppeteer. 

“Come on, (Y/n)! Feel the music!” he laughs, forcing you to twirl.

You want to tell him no, but you’ve already done a lot in Dauntless that you never pictured yourself doing. You’ve broken so many boundaries, disobeyed everything you’ve learned in Abnegation, and you’re refusing to dance? You ziplined off a building, hung hundreds of feet in the air, and you can’t do this?

You know, there’s a lot of things that you couldn’t do today, but this is something you can do. As long as it keeps that smile on Finnick’s face. If it stays, then you think you can do this.

“Okay!” you agree, waiting a beat or two before beginning to bounce too.

Finnick’s laughter fills the air, and for the first time in your life, you finally notice the butterflies. Light, swarming, and suffocating. You laugh too, holding onto his hands a little tighter. This is how it should be between you.

You’ve got a hold of Finnick again, and you’re never going to let go. Thyme can try to get in the way, but she won’t succeed. Finnick’s yours, he’s always been yours. By the time the rankings come out, she’ll be gone. Finnick will know your secrets, and he’ll help make sure that they don’t get out.

His smile fades a little, hand tilting your face up, “What’s wrong?”

You hadn’t even realized that you stopped smiling, “Nothing.” you grab his hand, squeezing it, “I’ll tell you later.”

Finnick gives you a look, “Promise?”

You won’t ruin tonight. You’ll tell him tomorrow if you can.

You beam, “Promise.”

--

It’s so painfully obvious that something went on last night. Every single initiate, with the exception of Thyme, is dragging their feet. A few people act like they turned into vampires overnight when they wince at bright lights and loud noises. Others are just in irritable moods in general, hungover from the alcohol.

Thyme is still sour from yesterday, you think, so there’s that. However, when you all came into the dormitory at three in the morning, she exploded. She didn’t yell, she managed to keep her voice level, but it was like all of you were in an interrogation.

One of the Dauntless-borns had said something to her along the lines of, “Shut the fuck up, this is why you weren’t invited.” and it worked. Thyme just glared daggers at the back of their head as they trudged their way to the bathroom. Now that you think about it, it might have been Lennox.

You also may have forgotten to mention an important detail about the dormitory now--it’s now occupied by the Dauntless-borns too. As it’s been said a hundred times before already, your groups had been kept apart. Now they’re combined, there’s four new bunk beds, and you get the pleasure of listening to Lennox and Sydney bicker in the mornings.

Anyway, Thyme went to bed after making a fuss with Finnick. He didn’t say much to her at all at first, then she wore on his patience--as she always does--and he snapped and told her to leave him alone. He was just invited to it, it’s not like he controlled the guest list. It was run by a bunch of the older Dauntless siblings.

And Thyme went, “Like who?”

Which made, literally everyone, point to either Sydney, Nestor, or towards the bathroom, where Lennox had disappeared inside of. Three people she doesn’t know, and therefore had no chance to actually build up some sort of friendship. It did raise the question on how Finnick got in, which was quickly answered by Blaire.

And, as if the salt wasn’t already bad enough, Cass went ahead and said, “Just face it Thyme, you’re fucking unlikable.”

A line with such irony, since the Amity are supposed to be the most liked. Yet here, she’s the most hated. Anyone could go ahead and say that Dauntless just hated Amity, and by default, Abnegation too. But then they’d have to explain why, especially since a former Abnegation is helping lead Dauntless, and you and Finnick are good in the books too.

Anyway, you can confidently say that Thyme is pissed. She’s been giving you a few looks every now and then, which is your fault because you’re the only other person that hasn’t been a complete asshole today. It’s weird to see, you came back with the rest of them, a little buzzed too. You shouldn’t be as on-top of it as you have been this morning.

You think it might have something to do with the adrenaline. To be completely honest, you don’t remember falling asleep, and each time you think of talking to Finnick, your stomach flips. Most of it has something to do with the fact of telling him you’re Divergent, but the other…

“Thyme.” Laurel says, hanging out of the door.

Thyme doesn’t move from her spot in the hallway, eyes on you, “Can you call someone else in?”

“No.” Laurel says, “You’ve had a shitty attitude all day, I want you over with. Get in here.”

Today also happened to be the day where gun training resumed. So, the first thing you got to do this morning was shoot. A lot of people complained, namely the ones who drank too much, but Caspian and Laurel were thoroughly enjoying themselves. You guess that the party was no secret, and you can’t really be surprised. The music just seemed to get louder the more time went on.

Not to mention when Maaja started playing popular songs, and the sing-alongs started. You swear that you’ve never heard a crowd yell that loud, drinks protruding into the air, swaying, harmonious. You and Finnick didn’t know what to do besides watch in awe.

Thyme gets to her feet, purposely kicking your ankle. You dig your nails into your palm, staring after her. Once the door swings shut, conversation takes over, forgetting her immediately.

“Does anyone remember how we got back?” Sydney asks, her hair is tied up messily, it looks like she got dressed in the dark.

“We walked back in a crowd.” you say, Cass immediately nods.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Cass agrees.

“I wish someone could tell me how much I drank.” Lennox groans, leaning his head back onto the wall.

You could probably tell him, but you think you stopped counting after three. Plus, you think he likes the attention he gets from Trink in response, how she immediately leans into him with a coo.

“We have to plan another party, right after initiation,” Ameer says.

Mirza nods, “We probably won’t be able to get as much alcohol as we did, but if we start taking some now…”

“I wouldn’t push it, we’re lucky we got any at all. Caspian had to pull some real strings.” Nestor says, earning two agreements from Sydney and Lennox.

“Wait,” you say, “Caspian helped?”

“Yeah!” Cass sits up straighter, “He’s the one that started the tradition, after all.”

You share a look with Finnick, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Caspian would start something like that.” Finnick laughs, you join in.

“Is Thyme always like that?” Horace asks.

There’s a lot of nodding, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s a good thing she wasn’t invited, then.” Cass says.

“You can thank (Y/n) for that,” Sydney tucks some of her hair behind her ear.

Finnick gives you a glance, and for some reason, you remember that you need to talk to him. The only problem is that Thyme is obviously on your tail, so it might not be the smartest idea to talk to him just yet.

While the others talk about the party, you lean to the left, into Finnick. He leans back, already knowing what’s going on. He tilts his head a certain way, offering his ear to you. It’s a habit for the two of you, never listening to the Abnegation ideals. Abnegation says not to disturb others, which is typically interpreted as silence, Finnick finds a way to speak quietly. It took a couple of weeks for you to master, but you’re just as good as he is.

“I think we should cool it for a little while.” you watch his face, the crease appearing between his eyebrows, “I don’t want to upset Thyme, and after last night, she’s definitely pissed.”

“So when?” he asks back, it’s his turn to watch you.

You press your lips together and shrug, “A couple of days?”

A warning look.

“I promised.” you remind him.

He nods, sitting up. It doesn’t look like any of the others noticed the brief conversation. Which would be good, but it’s not like it matters anymore. Everyone saw you with Finnick last night, and you two hardly left each other’s sides. You’ll be lucky if they don’t say anything to Thyme, especially since you haven’t told them what’s happening between you and her.

Slowly but surely, one by one, you all get called into the room, with the previous person coming out. When Thyme comes out again, you criss-cross your legs, and watch as she gets to Ameer before his leg shoots out to trip her. She barely catches herself, and doesn’t even dignify Ameer with a look.

However, you all know she’s fuming when the laughter starts.

About eight people later, the only people left are you, Sydney, Lennox, Cass and Blaire. The conversation isn’t so much about the party anymore, and more so about what you think of their siblings. You had been left with them for four hours by yourself, you got the authentic experience.

Honestly, they aren’t all that bad. For Dauntless members, they’re pretty chill. The only intense one was Daziel, but it wasn’t all the time. Blaire is glad to know that he’s not the only one that thinks that. You go ahead and tell them about the microphone and most of the things that he said while he was in control. And then you inflate Lennox’s ego a little bit by saying he’s definitely the smarter one.

Sydney is proud to know that you think she has a cool older sister. She says that she’ll pass on the word, because there’s no way in hell that Maarja hasn’t grown attached to you in some way. As for Torrac, there’s not much to say, besides he was the most level-headed one, and he shares a close resemblance with Nestor.

“But would you hang out with them again?” Lennox asks.

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

Ameer comes out of the room, keeping you from going any further. Laurel points at you, gives a big motion for you to go after her, and then disappears into the room. 

“We’ll see you later.” Cass says.

You give them a smile, rising to your feet. Ameer looks like a zombie when you pass him, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in some sort of autopilot mode. You gently push the door shut behind you, heading toward the chair. Laurel lets out a breath of air.

“How’d you like your first Dauntless party?” she says, you can see her preparing the syringe.

“It was exactly how I expected it to be.”

She laughs, “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I saw you having fun.”

Your eyes flash to her, “You were there?”

“In the corner, I was there for Caspian. He couldn’t make it.”

“Leader business?” you guess, sitting in the chair.

“Something like that,” she comes around the side. You offer up your arm for her, she slides the needle in and slowly presses down on the plunger. “I need you to focus for a moment, okay?”

You nod.

“Let’s say you have twelve fears, about four to six of those will come out in the second stage, and the other half or so will stay hidden until the final stage. There’s a good chance that your fears will start repeating, since we still have a week and a half of initiation left.”

You don’t have the heart to tell her that you can’t focus on her face for more than a second. You know that the simulations are hallucinations, but this is a pre-hallucination hallucination. There’s little black objects zipping across her body, and the urge to reach out and grab one is strong.

You are hearing what she’s saying, though.

“You’re going to get a lot of practice in with the fears that do repeat, but you’ll be left in the dark when the final stage comes around, because all those hidden fears will reveal themselves.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” you murmur, you think you’re going to be motion sick. The jolt from setting your head against the headrest, is enough to make you want to puke.

“It is. There are advantages, especially for people like you.”

“That’s phrased like an insult.” 

Most families in Abnegation are religious, it’s part of the traditional family roles stereotype. It was never that way for yours, and after your parents died, the idea was buried with them. You like to think that hell isn’t real, then shit like this happens. You’re staring face to face with Laurel, who no longer has eyes, just black holes and tiny black dots coming and going as they please.

With that, you’ve decided that you won’t try and fight off the simulation. 

You think you hear Laurel say something back. The words don’t sound like they’re in your language, much less coherent. And really, that is the least of your concerns, mainly because you blink and the scenery changes around you. You’re inside of an empty tank, which is, of course, inside of a dark room.

You let out a huff of air, getting to your feet, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

There’s no one around you this time, no dirt to come raining down. You shift on your feet for a while, calves incredibly sore from all the jumping. Torrac had set up no chairs, claiming that no one would want to sit down, anyway. He must’ve forgotten that he had six inexperienced partiers inside of the room.

Needless to say, getting down from the top bunk was, most certainly, your own personal nightmare.

A tickling sensation ghosts over your ankle, making you absentmindedly lift your other foot to itch through your jeans. The feeling leaves for a few seconds, before quickly returning. It’s not just your right leg anymore, though, it’s both, and it kinda hurts. When you look down to see where it’s coming from, you see why.

A scream rips through your throat, loud and raw. It’s been less than a second, and tears have already appeared in your eyes. You can’t escape this box, yet you slam your hands against the walls anyway.

Spiders coat the floor, hundreds of them, of all different sizes, climb up anything possible, including your jeans. On top, underneath, the floor, the walls. You slap a shaky hand over your mouth, sobbing through your fingers, struggling to breathe.

You try to dodge them, kick them off. In an adrenaline rush, you try brushing them off your jeans but end up making it worse when they hang off your arms. They jump, attach themselves to your shirts, staring up at you.

“No!” You scream, stomping to get them off, “No, please!”

A strike of pain goes through your arm, a red welt immediately forming. You can hardly see, hardly breathe, anymore as you brush them off. This is worse, this is so much worse. You brush off the spiders that you can’t, and you’re forced to watch them crawl up your body in front row seating.

The lightheadedness only gets worse with the hyperventilation. You lean against an empty part of the wall to keep yourself upright. You need to get out. You need out. You need to leave. 

You close your eyes and grit your teeth hard enough for them to squeak. With your head leaned up toward the ceiling, you try to breathe normally. You’re going to get out now. You don’t care how quick it is, you want out immediately. It hurts, the spiders bite, and you think it’s starting to itch.

“Please.” you moan, the inhales through your nose are full of snot. A shudder runs down your spine when you feel a spider coming up, “Please…”

And just as it comes up your neck, heading straight for your chin, you wake in the metal chair.

“One minute--”

Your scream cuts her off.

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

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