#(just thought it was cool that there's one for each year)

[bbokicidal]

Maybe Our Last .:. SKZ [L.FX]

Genre : Smut Pairing : Lee Felix x Fem!Reader Warnings : DUB-CON, Tentacle penetration I don't know HOW ELSE to word it!!, Hentai-esque themes, Monster Fucking (essentially), Throat fucking (kind of)

Kinktober Day 6 of 10 : Monster fucking w/ Felix Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 3.8K

I'm going to write a small snippet here because I need this to be clear; There is no sex between Felix and the reader; Changbin is the character who becomes the tentacle monster so technically he's fucking them both lol, and both Felix & the reader experience a sort of aphrodisiac which is why this is labeled as Dub-Con. If you don't like this type of shit just DON'T FUCKING READ IT LOL - also I've never written anything like this before so if it's bad... oh well.

You’d caught his eye the moment you walked into the party; The outfit, the style you’d worn your natural hair in, the dramatic makeup, the contacts, the thigh highs, the cute shoes – 

Felix had seen that character multiple times before; A beauty from one of his favorite animes in the world and now it was like she’d come right to life in front of his very eyes in the form of your Halloween costume. 

If he was honest, Felix wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his composure around you that night. You already made his heart race before, your demeanor was always so pleasant and kind towards him any time the two of you had bumped into each other or conversed as your friends spoke with each other, and now he knew you were about as big a nerd as he was; Which made you 10 times more attractive. As if you could get any more perfect.

Hell - He wasn’t even sure how he got you to sit down and talk to him on the couch like this; Your legs thrown over his lap, his hands resting respectfully atop them while the two of you chit-chatted as if you weren’t sitting in the middle of a massive college Halloween party. Biggest one that happened on campus, actually; Changbin just had that reputation going for him; Couldn’t let his people down this year, could he?

Music blared around the two of you, people dancing and singing, drinking ungodly concoctions of Rum and juice and edible glitter and making out against the walls; someone gagging just behind at the smell that was slowly flooding out of the downstairs restroom and towards the kitchen. Though, it felt as though none of it mattered as you were in your own little world with Felix.

“Yeah, I mean - her basic outfit is just so boring so I guess I tried to recreate the ascended version; I just think it’s cooler.”

“Definitely.” Call Felix a loser. He can’t keep himself from staring over at you in admiration, awe rushing through his veins the more you talk about what you thought of the show and what your opinions on different arcs were. His replies remain short and sweet - and you try your best to keep the conversation going, you do, but it’s hard to focus when he’s just so… pretty.

With a pink knitted sweater tucked into light wash jeans, he’d managed to secure a small pair of white wings to his back. He’d buttered up his look by applying glittering hairspray to the platinum locks that fell down over his shoulders and framed his face so well, a chunkier rose gold glitter overtaking the freckles on his cheeks. It seemed to complete the look for the cutest pixie you’d ever seen in your life; Not that you’d seen many.

“So you know the guy who lives here?” You question, tone soft. You’d heard of him before but you’d never talked to him personally; You’d really only been invited to the party because he was a friend of a friend. 

Felix’s lips part before he nods, a shy and polite smile overtaking his lips. “Ah - Yeah. Changbin’s a close friend of mine. He’s pretty cool, I guess.” His eyes darted over to peek at said friend, Changbin’s head popping into the restroom as his hand secured its hold on the doorframe. He looks as though he’s investigating something but Felix hasn’t a clue what, so instead of fretting about it he turns his attention back to you. “You don’t?” Felix quips before continuing. “I mean - you don’t know him?”

You blink a few times, offering a small shake of your head. “Oh, no. He’s a friend of my friend, Hyunjin. They’re practically attached at the hip and I see him around every so often but I don’t think I’ve ever had a full conversation with him before, you know?” You smile, giving a shrug. “We just don’t really run in the same friend group I guess. No big deal.”

The hand that had previously been resting against your shin - which was placed in Felix’s lap as you lounged back on the sofa in Changbin’s living room - moved to instead gently grasp at your knee. Felix giggles, “You should talk to him sometime. He’s genuinely one of the nicest guys I know. I get that his physique can be kind of intimidating but he’s really a nice guy. Maybe after the party we can –”

“Oh my God,” A girl shrieking from behind the sofa causes your body to jolt in surprise, your leg pulling off of Felix’s lap. He selfishly misses the contact immediately but lets his gaze pull from you to the young woman standing just over your shoulder. She’s turned away, her hand shaking as she points to the bathroom doorway. Changbin was gone, but where his hand had previously rested was now an oozing trail of green slime. Like something had slapped against the doorway and left a puddle that dripped down the polished wood. “Changbin?!” She cries, free hand pressing over her mouth. “Are you okay?!”

Hyunjin pushes past a few people to get to the girl, his hand resting against her arm as he glances between her horrified expression and the bathroom doorway. “What -?! What? What’s going on? Why are you yelling?” He stares down at her, the girl trembling under his touch. Her face had gone ghastly white, her joints blushed with blood that tried to push through to her extremities that had long lost all sense of warmth.

“Changbin,” She gasps out her friend’s name, her fingers shaking horribly as they dig into her cheek in terror. “He was trying to figure out what that awful smell was but I just – I saw him get pulled into the bathroom by something! I swear, it was like a monster - It was –”

The atmosphere turns horridly tense. The air thickens with dread as people begin to back away from the bathroom and some even turn to leave, wanting to get out of the house in case something horrible had happened. What if it was another person and Changbin had just been attacked? What if there was a serious sense of danger in the house now? And as you listen in, your chest feels heavy enough to cave in on you. You didn’t know Changbin well but that didn’t mean you didn’t care about him. He seemed like a genuine guy and right now you could only hope that this was some sick, cruel Halloween prank happening.

By the time you push yourself up off of the couch to even move into action Hyunjin is already in the bathroom doorway. His rushed demeanor comes to a sudden halt as he stops where the door cracks open, his gaze settled behind it and directed towards the shower. Everyone seems so quiet now, waiting impatiently for Hyunjin to give them some sort of update.

The only response they get for at least five seconds is the color draining from his face. His jaw clenched as he huffs out a breath before his body turns back to the living room and he pushes himself to leave the bathroom as quickly as possible.

He points, throwing his arm towards the front door that isn’t too far from where you stand. “Get out!” His voice leaves his throat in a scratching scream, begging for people to run from whatever it was he had seen in the bathroom only moments ago. “Get the fuck out!” He cries. “Run! Fucking run!”

People scatter; Dust settled on a shelf for decades now disturbed and dispersing into the once pure air. Footsteps are loud and heavy as some book it for the upstairs area, their shoes thumping heavy against the wooden steps. Most head for the front or back doors, Hyunjin’s hands pushing people to move into action as screams and cries fill the house and drown into the music still playing from the stereo speakers. 

The bathroom door slides open and what emerges makes your blood run cold.

That wasn’t Changbin.

That was a monster.

With eyes pure white and veins pulsing angrily in his throat, the Senior exited the bathroom not on his own two legs; Maybe not of his own free will. His head lulled as if he was no longer present, the parasite within him pushing him to exit and begin to attack. His upper half looked as if it had been melted and glued to the body of an octopus - if that octopus had biohazard green tentacles and slime oozing from every orifice. It pushed out of the corners of his mouth as his expression turned into a heavy scowl, his head tipping in the direction of the people scrambling for the front door - one of the tentacles reaching out in a quicker manner than expected. It had taken him so long to reveal himself that you were sure he was sluggish when it came to movement, but the tentacle seemed to snap out and wrap around the closest person’s waist.

Hyunjin gasped in horror as the wet surface slid and soaked his band tank, grabbing onto him tight and curling around him a few times to ensure he couldn’t escape from its hold. The tip of the tentacle smothered his cheek in goo and he visibly cringed, pulling his head back as far as he could while it rubbed against his face.

You hadn’t even realized your own body had become frozen in its place until Felix had reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours to pull you back to him. “Hey,” He yells over the noise, gently tugging on your arm, “We’ve gotta go!”

Your eyes drag to Felix before you nod, surely out of it by everything you were witnessing. This had to be some horrible nightmare - surely. Changbin wasn’t some scary tentacle monster and Hyunjin wasn’t getting smothered in goo and this house party was not just taken over by some… alien octopus parasite!

Felix moves to guide you as far from Changbin as he can get you, which isn’t very far unfortunately. His attempt is futile; The moment he rounds the couch it’s already too late. A tentacle had wound around your ankle and begun to lift already, refusing to let you go while suspending you mid-air. Felix, also refused to let you go.

He cried out as his hand was ripped from yours, watching you be lifted towards the ceiling as you screamed and begged for him to find a way to get you down. “Felix!” Your gasps were slashes to his heart, the knife twisting and digging into the muscle, ripping it apart. “Felix - Help me! Help me!”

Though he’s no better off. A third leg had wrapped over Felix’s chest, slime oozing from what looked to be the suction cups of the tentacle - only open and gaping as they sucked and clung to his sweater tight. Felix’s mouth opens though no sounds escape, his body only reacting as it knows how to when he’s this terrified. His hands come down on the tentacle and he hates how smooth it is, how slimy and wet it feels against his skin. “Let me go,” He gasps out, his head turning to look over towards Changbin’s upper half. Not that he’s really Changbin anymore. “Changbin-hyung! Let me go! Let me go, I’m your friend!”

Felix’s head snaps in your direction instead as he hears your voice letting out soft whines. The tentacle holding you up by your leg had tightened its grip and squirmed down towards your inner thigh, still wrapped up against you so snug that it made the soft fat beneath it bulge under your thigh highs. He didn’t even bother to take in the way your skirt had flipped upside down to reveal the pink panties underneath - He didn’t care. He was instead watching a separate tentacle rubbing against your face as if it were nuzzling you, smearing a pale green goo over your cheek and towards your mouth that made you spit in disgust. The tentacle pushes lower instead and wraps loose around your neck, your eyes darting down to watch as the suction cups open and release what looks like a sort of gas.

Your gasps are immediate, the sweet scent filling your body as you cried, “What the fuck is that?!”

Felix barely even registered that the tentacle wrapped over his chest had done the same, and when he did he was dumb enough to look down right into it. The scent was… nice. Pleasant. It made his body hum with a pleasant vibration that made him feel so warm and fuzzy. A feeling akin to being drunk for the first time - feeling a little out of it, a little loose. It felt immediate, too. 

His body slowly began to relax as the gas fogged around his head, the cups closing shortly after to let the air around your bodies clear. His eyes slowly pulled back to you, and though you were a bit hazy now, you were still there. 

The tentacle wrapped over your neck slithered down towards your chest, wrapping beneath the swell of your breasts tight so the fabric pulled taught against your curves - and the poor pixie across from you couldn’t stop himself from looking. He didn’t even feel guilty about it at the moment either. In any other circumstance he would’ve been too respectful and shy to even steal a quick glance but now, something about it felt so shameless. 

The tentacle slipped lower to give your body more support, leveling you out so you could essentially lay as though you were in bed instead of being hung upside down. How kind of it.

Felix swallows hard as his eyes trail over. He watches the tentacle holding onto your leg adjust itself so your thighs push apart for it and your body seems to naturally comply, your head tipping back as you allow the creature that was once Felix’s best friend to bend your body to its will. He finds himself whimpering when the tentacle pushes higher, the tip of the appendage wriggling and squirming over your skin until it tucked under your skirt and pried at your panties.

Your lips part in a sharp gasp, a heavy blush coating your cheeks at the realization that it’s trying to get at the most intimate of spaces on your body. The appendage curls tight around your panties before it begins to pull back, though when they refuse to move from your hips because of how snug they are - it opts to instead rip them right open. The fabric falls like nothing from your body before the tentacle moves back to work, your skirt ruffling against your hips and thighs as it pushes over your slit and curls the very tip around your clit in an effort to make you moan. And it works, of course.

Felix’s cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you being touched like this. He knows it’s gross - knows it’s dirty and knows you’ll no doubt judge him for enjoying nasty Hentai like this (if you even live to see the next morning…) but he really can’t help it. He can’t help that he’s getting hard at the sight of you like this. It’s like a scene right out of a movie he’d watched recently - The tentacles, your stupid Halloween outfit…

“Felix…” Your soft call of his name makes him snap back into reality - which isn’t far from his fantasies right now. His hands tightened down on the tentacle wrapped over his chest as he felt something push between his own legs; An appendage separate from the others had slipped up his left leg and prodded at the bulge in his jeans, curling slowly around the outline of his half-hard cock while he whined. His lashes fluttered and he squirmed at the feeling, the friction more than enough to make him chub up just a little bit more. 

He curses, whimpering under his breath. “Fuck,” Felix gasps, biting down hard into his lip to stop any other sounds from escaping from his mouth.

His gaze darts back to you just in time to see the tentacle between your legs begin to squirm back. The cups along the inner section of the appendage open slowly and begin to once again ooz the slime that had slicked up your face and soaked into your costume’s top. It dripped over your inner thighs and as you sucked in a breath, the tip of the tentacle pushed carefully into your entrance. It eased it’s way in until it was nearly five inches deep - though this wasn’t quite like having sex with just.. Some guy. First of all - this was a monster; Second - the tentacle was thick. 

It felt as though it was attempting to split you right in half, wriggling deeper before finally pulling back and pushing into you once more.

“Oh my God,” Your voice leaves in a desperate hum. Felix watches in both shock and awe as your head falls back at the feeling of your pussy being filled to the brim; The little suction cups kissing at your walls every time it pushed into you further, the tip squirming against the entrance to your cervix and begging to be let in - to fill you until you would burst.

Felix’s head swirls as his gaze drops once more. He stares at the tentacle wriggling its way into his waistband, his mouth dropping open to let out a moan that makes him feel disgusting. He’s enjoying this and part of him loathes himself for it. “Shit,” He whines, the appendage wrapping around his cock when it slipped into his boxers and smothering his length in slick, sticky goo. It soaked through to the denim of his jeans and caused a heavy, damp stain that made him embarrassed and made him whine in protest. His hands curled into fists, reaching down with both to try and rid the appendage from his waistband before another - smaller and thin as a rope - wrapped tight around his wrists at lightning speed. He trembles as his arms are pulled above his head, no longer able to defend himself against the tentacle wrapping around his cock and making him twitch and writhe in pleasure. “Fuck – Fuck,” He cries, his toes curling in his sneakers at the ache that forms through his abdomen. “Fuck –!”

Your eyes finally press open as you hear Felix whining across from you, your gaze settling first on his flushed and desperate expression before falling to watch as the tentacle below wraps around his cock and coats him in goo. You can’t see anything but you know it’s a delicious sight.

Though, the appendage previously touching Felix seems to realize something of its own - It can’t fill Felix like it can with you, so it would have to find another way to inject its semen into the man.

“Shit,” Your whisper is barely audible as you peek up, watching the tentacle drag over Felix’s chest before coming up and prodding at his lips. He barely has time to react as it forces it’s way into his mouth, pushing at the back of his throat and making him choke on a whimper as goo drips down the corners of his mouth. His gaze meets yours before you watch as his eyes flick down between your legs, watching the tentacle between your thighs pump into you quicker than before. Your shaky, unstable moans meet Felix’s ears and he hates that the mix of seeing you getting fucked and having his mouth used at the same time are what makes him coat the inside of his jeans in cum that mixes with the goo left behind.

Your gasps become frantic as the tentacle pushes further into you, stretching you as much as it can before it suddenly stops, burying itself into your walls and pumping something out of the cups that had once again opened. You can feel it; It’s hot and heavy, thick, creamy. Holding a promise of your demise.

It’s the same moment that the tentacle buried in Felix’s throat seems to release the essence, Felix choking and gagging and closing his eyes in embarrassment as it fills his mouth full. The tentacle retracts as quickly as it came, black leaking from the corners of the pixie’s mouth as he swallows and spits at the same time - trying to figure out what it is and what to do in his post-sex haze.

The appendage between your thighs retracts and as exhaustion waves over you, so do the rest. Your body falls from the air and hits the ground with a heavy thud, Felix’s following only moments later. You land on your side, eyes glossy with tears of fear and pleasure as you look over at where Felix lay on his stomach to your right. His eyes are closed, though it’s not long before they slowly flutter open and attempt to meet your gaze. Felix’s hand slowly shifts from his side, coming to meet your own. His fingers curl into your palm as he sighs out, his body giving into the exhaustion and slumping against the hardwood - his cheek squished against the floor and his brain shutting off.

While you remain conscious a while longer, your eyes slowly move around to what you can see of the room. Hyunjin sits slumped against the wall, black ooze dripping down his chin and throat. His mouth had been filled the same as Felix, though while it happened a bit earlier on after he was grabbed, his body had already begun to turn. He was no longer present, his lower half bubbling and steaming and his legs gone, four appendages already present and squirming as the others began to form. 

Your eyes slowly dragged back to the blonde laying beside you, your thumb swiping over his knuckles in admiration. You take in the way his hair falls over his eyes, the way his lips part and the way the chunky rose gold glitter on his cheeks only adds to the charm of the deep brown freckles painting his skin. Part of you was… happy, that he’d fallen asleep before he’d seen what had happened to Hyunjin; What would happen to him now, too. Though as you lay in exhaustion and attempt to fight the sleep, as your brain clears itself of the fog and begins to be overrun by the slime that had entered your body and taken control of every functioning system left inside of you, and the fear settles into your chest; The realization that this would be the last time you would be human, the last time you would see Felix’s face. So you fight the sleep a little longer, just enough to try and memorize every detail of the man laying across from you before he becomes a monster, too. Your head pounds with the need to rest as your eyes finally drop closed, your body slumping and going loose as your future ahead of you lay unknown. But again, holding the promise of your demise.

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@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

@silly250

[xlostinthedreamfics]

Nobody New; Mingi Oneshot

Paring: Song Mingi x Female reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Playlist: Nobody New - The Marias

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut

Summary: After 2 years of living in a new city, you decide to sign up for a pottery class to step out of your comfort zone and hopefully make some friends, only to find your ex-boyfriend Mingi has signed up for the same pottery class.

Note: First post and it’s a mingi one! So excited to post more of my stories, hope you all enjoy :)

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

You took a long sip of your coffee and stared down at your friend sitting across from you. “It’s a pottery class, what are you so afraid of?” Your friend Wooyoung chuckled, nudging your leg from under the table. “I get that, but you know I suck at making friends.” You huffed, frowning at your friend who couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes.

“We became friends, hello?” He swirled his coffee cup in a circle before taking a drink. “You came up to me at work, though, it’s different. You initiated it!” You slouched your shoulders but then took a deep breath. “You’re right, it’s just a pottery class. If I don’t make friends, at least I could make some cool art.” 

“God, I hope so. You need a hobby, bad!” Wooyoung smirked, his smile dropping immediately to a face of pain as you pinched his arm. “Ow! Doom scrolling in the corner of your room every night is not a hobby; you need to go out and meet people.”

Wooyoung was right; he is always right, unfortunately. You couldn’t deny your friend’s statement any longer; you didn’t leave your house unless it was to come out with Wooyoung or go to work. It’s been two years since you moved from your hometown, and instead of being social, you were spending all your energy at work, in the corner of coffee shops on your laptop, or beginning constant apartment improvement projects that just became stale. But you need to be the main character in your story right now. Although you weren’t the most textbook creative person, you still wanted to engulf yourself in the arts: painting, pottery, poetry, and music. You decided to take your chance and go with pottery, maybe it could inspire you toward other hobbies. 

The pottery shop by your house was starting classes for beginners, and Wooyoung pushed you to sign up and try it out. He claimed he wasn’t tired of being your only friend, but since Wooyoung moved to a new apartment, he needed a one-of-a-kind, custom set of mugs, plates, or bowls. You chuckled at the thought of showing up at Wooyoung’s place with the most botched, mismatched set of dishware. You could already see his face of annoyance. 

Ding. The shop looked almost full, with about 4 rows of 5 stations lined up. There was some room in the last row, where you decided to take your seat. “Welcome in!” The instructor smiled at you, handing you a beige apron to protect your clothes from the clay splatter. “You may need this too; you don’t want your hair to get caught.” She took a few hair ties out of her pocket, handing one over to you before moving on to the rest of the people coming in.

You tied the apron around your waist and then your hair into a ponytail. The last thing you needed was some horror story about your hair getting caught in the pottery wheel on your first day of class. You looked around as more people took up the seats, and another girl who seemed around your age took the seat next to you. “Hi,” the girl smiled at you, tying the apron around her waist and securing her hair.

You smiled but didn’t say anything, maybe as the class went on, you would feel more bold and make conversation. You reached for your phone in your jean pocket, texting Wooyoung that you, in fact, made it to the pottery class as you promised. All he responded with was, “Can't wait to see what you make me!” You chuckled before sliding your phone back into your pocket.

“Welcome, everyone! I think we’re going to get started now! Just want to make sure everyone has an apron?” The instructor looked at each person, nodding, before continuing. “Perfect! Welcome to Clay & Co. This is the beginner class and will be a total of 6 sessions. I want us to go around and introduce ourselves one by one, your name, what brought you in, and what you are hoping to create! Let’s start up front.” You felt your stomach drop; you hated introductions, icebreakers, and anything that caused everyone’s attention to you. Most of the answers so far were similar to yours, “trying something new, wanting to learn a new hobby”, at least you can say the same and no one would bat a lash.

“Hello, I’m Mingi-”

Your heart felt still, as you gazed towards the second row at the man introducing himself. The pounding of your heart sounded louder than his voice, the beating muffling your hearing. There was no chance that you were in the same pottery class as your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend from two years ago, who you thought you left behind in your hometown, who you took these last two years to try and get over. You automatically hid your face, refusing to make eye contact. Why the fuck is here? How could this be happening to me right now?

“I just moved to the city and have always wanted to try a more hands-on hobby and maybe make some new friends. I’m hoping to make something useful.” He joked. The rest of the group chuckled at his last statement, catching that smile of his in the corner of your eye, causing your stomach to do a flip. The fact that you had to get up in a few turns to introduce yourself made your mouth dry. Your face felt flushed, a drop of sweat visible on your brow. You hadn’t seen him since you broke up and truly thought you’d never see him again. It’s also not as unlikely to see him since it wasn’t a far driving distance from where you grew up. 

You did everything you could to avoid him after the breakup: blocked him on every social media platform, blocked his phone number, and put all the stuff he gave you in a box that was still in your apartment. As soon as you got a clear view of his face, it felt like every single moment you had with him was running through your brain like a flip book. He looked so good, his shoulders wide, his black hair framing his face, his deep, deep voice that seemed to make everyone pay attention. You were staring at him for too long; you didn’t realize they were already beginning introductions in your row.

The girl next to you got up to introduce herself, “Hello, I’m Evie-” Fuck, that meant that you were next, you continued to stare down at your now sweaty palms. When Evie sat back down, the room was quiet again, awaiting your turn. You had to get up; you couldn’t be stuck in this chair forever. All you had to do was not look at him. Because that was already working so well. You pulled yourself up to your feet, your knees seeming to wobble a bit as you made direct eye contact with the instructor.

“Hi, my name is Y/N. I wanted to try a new hobby and learn something new. I’m hoping I can make something for my friend as an apartment-warming gift.” You felt your cheeks so hot as you sat back down, noticing Mingi’s gaze linger on you before he turned around. “Awesome! So glad to have everyone, let’s get started then.” 

The rest of the class was a little easier than those introductions. You were too focused on getting comfortable with your pottery wheel and not being too heavy on the pedal. You even had a conversation with Evie about how much harder this seemed to be, but the clay on your hands was also somewhat soothing. The stinging realization that Mingi was a few feet away from you caused the lump in your throat to form again. It was the longest 2 hours of your life. All you could think of was how ready you were to get the fuck out of there and tell Wooyoung.

“Okay, class, we’re going to wrap up for today. Make sure to come in on Thursday for our second session, at 6 pm!” The instructor yelled out, making sure everyone was cleaning up their station well before heading out. You quickly cleaned up, storing away the tools and apron in the designated area. You washed your hands at the sink hastily, finally letting your hair down, feeling more secure as it covered your flushed face. You went back to your station to grab your bag, said bye to Evie, and headed out the door.

Ding. The air hit you immediately; it wasn’t even cold out, but the breeze felt nice against your warm cheeks. You only lived a few blocks down, and in just a few steps, you would be in your safe space, where you could process what just happened. Ding.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice called out, your face growing hot again, and the palms of your hands beginning to sweat almost immediately. There wasn’t any bad blood between you and Mingi; you were friends for a long time before you got together, and the break-up was mutual since you were both in two different places in your lives. But it didn’t hurt any less to see him now. Would it be wrong to just ignore Mingi and pretend you never heard him to avoid this confrontation? You could just stop going to that pottery class. You felt his footsteps picking up speed as he called out to you again.

“Wait up.” You stopped in your tracks, turning around quickly to see Mingi making his way towards you, towering over you now; you forgot how tall he was. He hesitated to continue speaking, almost as if he was trying to figure out what to say. “Hey.” That was all he mustered out of his mouth as he reached for you, but pulled back as soon as he realized. 

“Hi.” You wanted to laugh, the uncomfortable air right now felt dense, and running away didn’t seem like a bad option. “It's, I, hey.” Mingi looked flustered, smiling awkwardly at you. “What are you doing here?” You blurted out, taken aback by your own boldness. 

“Right.” He laughed awkwardly, “Do you think we can talk, maybe get something to eat? Pottery, strangely enough, made me hungry.” You gazed at him, amazed at how the distance in time somehow felt non-existent, as if you could retroactively feel how you did two years ago, but the heavy feeling in your chest lingered. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mingi.”

“Please.” His soft hand landed on yours, leaving your skin with a burning sensation as if he ignited all the memories in an instant. Your reaction was to pull away quickly, regretting that decision as a frown appeared on his face. You sighed at the uneasiness of seeing him visibly upset; maybe just a catch-up would be okay. “Okay.” Was all you could answer as a small smile gleamed on his face now. He pulled out his phone, pulling up a spot on his maps app, “There’s a sushi spot close by that I’ve been wanting to check out.”

“Sushi Scene?” you asked him. Mingi looked up at you, “You’ve been there?” 

“It’s my favorite spot, let’s go.” You answered, walking past him toward the direction of the pottery shop. The thoughts raced through your mind as he caught up next to you, still following the directions on his map. This isn’t what you had imagined to happen on this Tuesday afternoon. You assumed you would enjoy your pottery class, get home, and relax before your work day tomorrow, where you would tell Wooyoung all about it. But now you were walking to go have dinner with your ex-boyfriend, whom you never got closure from, completely healed from, and who you still found undeniably attractive. 

Before small talk could even begin during the walk to the restaurant, you were already coming up on it. You headed inside first, not even allowing time for Mingi to get the door for you, which is something he always made sure to do. You could hear a noise of annoyance behind you, letting a small chuckle escape your lips. “Table for 2.” You gestured at the host, she nodded and grabbed the menus, directing you to follow her to a booth towards the back; each of you taking a side of the booth. You took a deep breath, focusing your attention on the menu instead of Mingi, who was gazing at you. You couldn’t help but look up and catch his eyes, nervously glancing back down at the menu. “Should we-”

“Get 2 different rolls each and share?” Mingi answered instantly, smiling nervously at you, knowing it’s what you would always do, order something different and share. “Sure.” You surrendered, placing the menu down and clasping your hands together in front of you. You wished you were sitting next to Mingi so you wouldn’t have to face him. It felt surreal to have him in front of you right now, the quick memories of him flashing through your brain; his kisses, his laugh, his touch…

“Ready to order?” The waitress startled you, you nodded, each of you ordering your rolls and handing her the menus. “I know this must be weird, seeing each other,” Mingi cleared his throat, continuing, “I moved here recently because of work. I didn’t think I’d run into you since this city is so big. It just ended up being fate, I guess.” The thing about Mingi is that he’s a logical person, but funny enough, he is a big believer in fate and things happening the way they’re meant to. “I tried calling, you know?” The lump in your throat appeared again, the discomfort of this conversation becoming hard to swallow.

“But it just went to voicemail every time.” He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, eyeing me up, waiting for me to respond, but continued anyway. “I know that was a few years ago now, so we don’t have to talk about it. Just wanted to see how you have been. What brought you to sign up for that pottery class? You hate art.” He chuckled, fidgeting with the bracelets on his wrist. 

“I don’t hate art! I’m just not good at it,” You smirked, rolling your eyes at him. “My friend Wooyoung told me I should go make friends. I’ve been living here for two years and have somehow managed only to make one friend, him.” You laughed at yourself, locking your eyes with Mingi’s, the familiarity of it all seeping through with just a stare.

“I never got your call because I had blocked you.” You nervously took a sip of your water, not making eye contact with Mingi. You both never had a conversation after the breakup, and there wasn't much to talk about. You were moving away, and Mingi was always busy at his new job, two very different wavelengths, and that’s okay. “That’s understandable, I guess.” Mingi laughed, leaning in closer, his chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” His eyes seemed to pierce through you, watching you move uncomfortably in your seat. He knew how that look made you feel, how it could eat at you without saying anything, so many times that he could shut your thinking up with this look. His face fell back into a coy smile, rubbing the back of your hand softly before leaning back against the booth. You felt your heart ablaze, the feelings returning as if they never left. You couldn’t help but imagine jumping over this table and kissing him in front of everyone in this sushi restaurant. “Food is here!” The waitress walked up to their table, causing you to snap back into reality. “Thank you.” You smiled at her and then at Mingi, his eyes fixed on you as he handed a pair of chopsticks your way.

The rest of the time was spent chowing down on the delicious rolls, rating them one by one, pretending to be some Michelin star critic, knowing neither of you was qualified to even write a Yelp review. The awkwardness of seeing your ex was soon filled with memories of your once-close relationship. The conversation led to you both talking about your current daily activities, your jobs, your current obsessions, guilty pleasures, and your favorite coffee and food spots so Mingi could get some ideas. It all felt normal, as if you never left your hometown, as if you’d never left Mingi. After dinner, Mingi insisted on driving you home, even though it was about a fifteen-minute walk for you. He picked up the check and led you both out of the restaurant towards his car, which was parked right in front of the pottery shop.

“Still got your Honda, I see?” You smiled as you walked up to his black Honda Accord. “Of course, it’s my baby.” Mingi opened the door for you, heading over to his side hastily. “I’m driving her until it breaks apart.” Mingi snickered, handing you his phone to put in your address. “While you’re at it, play that song that you were telling me about,” Mingi smirked at you, pulling off towards your place. You smiled, going through his music streaming app to find your favorite song. “Okay, this group is my current obsession. When you listen to this, think of floating peacefully in the water, the sun setting so the sky is the perfect color of purple and pink, and it’s summertime.”

“Am I in the middle of the ocean, floating? How long do I have before the sun sets completely and it's dark? Do I at least have a life jacket?” You moaned annoyingly, “Mingi, please. Don’t think about it too much.” You pushed his leg playfully, turning the volume up a bit. You watched as his face went through five different emotions, and you couldn’t tell if he liked it or hated it. “Okay, what else you got?” He smirked, knowing that it would annoy the shit out of you. “You got something better?” You glared, slumping into the seat.

“I’m messing with you.” He placed his hand on your thigh, quickly glancing over at you, “I like it.” He left his hand on your thigh, and you were hoping he would. You stared down at his hand, noticing the nice rings wrapped around his fingers in detail. You traced your finger over each one, an excuse for your hand to be closer to his. “Remember when you clowned me for wearing too many rings?” Mingi scoffed, watching you continue to trace through each ring. “I didn’t clown you, it just hurt when we would hold hands.” You chuckled, boldly interlacing your fingers with his, “It's not too bad now.” You looked over at him, his face painted with a bit of surprise. 

Before you knew it, he was pulling up to your apartment, the thought of being away from him causing your heart to ache already. He noticed your hesitancy, squeezing your hand softly, causing you to lock eyes with him again. He glanced down at your lips and then back at you, moving his body closer. “Do you want to come upstairs?” You blurted out, his face just a few inches from yours. He bit down on his lip, your favorite habit of his, and nodded as he turned off the car. You walked him up the stairs to your place, thanking yourself for deciding to not get a roommate. You weren’t exactly sure what was going to happen, what you wanted to happen, but all you knew was that you wanted him, you missed him, you needed him more than you had before.

“This is my place.” You smiled at him as you ushered behind Mingi, closing the door. “It’s nice, I like it. You have a great view.” He walked towards the window in the living room, peeking out at the street below. “Do you want anything to drink?” Mingi turned around, walking to you in the kitchen, shaking his head. “I’m okay right now. I could use something else, though.“ He scooted closer to you, your back crashing against the counter. You stared up at Mingi, who had caged you into his embrace, an arm on either side of you. “Mingi.” You nervously watched as he backed off, “I’m sorry, did I read everything wrong? That is my bad.” He pursed his lips.

“I was just going to say,” His eyes fixated on you again, “I never stopped thinking about you either.” You smirked, your hand reaching out for him. He smiled, grabbing onto your waist as he pushed you against the counter again. “You couldn’t forget about me?” He looked at you with a smug look, snuggling his nose against your neck as he inhaled you. He pressed a small kiss to the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw toward your lips. He stopped at the corner of your mouth, peering down at you as you spoke. “How could I forget you?” 

Mingi took your arms, wrapping them around his neck as he hoisted you up onto the counter. Your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He cupped your face with his large hand as he placed his finger under your chin. “I’ve thought about this moment so much. If I were ever able to kiss you again.” His lips crashed against yours, your core aching for him almost immediately. His tongue slid along your bottom lip as it entered your mouth, your tongues gliding against each other’s. His hand wrapped around the sides of your neck as he squeezed gently, causing a moan to escape your lips. 

His body rubbed against yours, feeling yourself become slicker for him. You bit down on his lip, tugging on it slightly as he groaned under his breath. “Fuck.” He whined, his hands drifting under your shirt, the feeling of his cold rings giving you goosebumps. You threw your arms up, allowing him to remove your shirt with ease. His lips descended onto your chest, kissing down until he met your breasts. You felt his hands on your back, instantly unclasping your bra. Although it has been a few years since you both had sex, everything felt so natural, so normal. He knew the ways to tease you just right, to make you feel good, to drive you insane.

He threw the bra to the side, his head hovering over your breasts, taking a bulb into his mouth. You gasped at his touch, his tongue swirling around your nipple. You could feel your legs squeezing onto him even tighter, “Mingi.” You held the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair as he sucked, nibbled, and circled your sensitive bulbs. You slid your hands down his back, tugging at his shirt for him to take it off. He obliged, slipping it off and tossing it to the side, returning to you quickly. His mouth was on yours again as he unbuttoned your pants, gliding them off, your skin feeling the coldness of the marble counter from under you.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” The return of the nickname never felt so good. At this moment, you were his and he was yours. He skated his hands up and down your thighs, glancing at the wetness seeping through your underwear. “Want me to tell you what I want?” Mingi asked, you eased your breathing, nodding up at him. He tilted your chin up, kissing you before trailing his fingers down your neck, down your chest, and abdomen to your aching center. His index and middle finger pressed against the front of your panties, his mouth dropping open as he felt the soaked cloth against his skin. You moaned softly, feeling him pull your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger inside of you with ease. 

“Fuck.” You moaned a bit louder this time, your hand gripping his other arm as you held your body still. He smirked as he slipped the second finger in, curling his fingers upward slowly. The sensation drove you insane. His lips found your neck as he continued, “Mingi, please.” He bit down on your neck slightly, causing you to hiss with pain. “Please, what?” He whispered faintly, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“You want more?” His low tone vibrated against your ear as he moved his fingers deeper into you, watching you squirm. He had a good pace, but you wanted more, you wanted him, you needed to be completely stuffed by Mingi. “I need you.” You muttered out through your moans, hearing the noises from your wet slick as he removed his fingers. He unwrapped your legs from around him and took a step back, slowly unbuttoning his pants and removing them. His bulge sprang up from out of his briefs. Your mouth fell open, your pussy pulsating at the remembrance of how amazing he fit into you. You reached for him, wanting to bring him close to you. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness as he moved closer, lining himself up to you but not pushing in. He teased you instead, sliding his hard cock in between your slit, the tip of him brushing along your clit.

Your breathing grew heavy, your moans getting louder at every meeting of his tip against your clit. His cock slipped between your folds, his hands gripping your thighs as he focused on you. “I need to feel you.” You pleaded, gripping onto his hand. He interlaced your fingers with his as he slid his tip into your entrance, plunging in. You could scream if the walls of your apartment weren’t so thin. He fit so perfectly, stretched you out in the best way. Mingi wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you down as he bobbed himself in and out of you. His pace grew faster, his moans matching yours. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” He leaned down to your breasts, gliding his tongue around your nipple as he continued to pump into you. 

You felt your legs wrapping tighter around him, causing him to sink deeper into you. He moved slower to tease you before moving his hips faster against you. “I’m so close, Mingi.” You threw your head back, your arms behind you holding you up. Mingi kept his pace steady, his fingers finding your clit, creating small circles with his thumb. You moaned loudly, feeling like you were about to come apart at the seams. “I’m close too, baby.” Mingi groaned against you. His eyes were focused on you, watching as your chest heaved, how your legs shook, and your walls clenched onto him as you came. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moaned out, glancing at a panting Mingi who was almost to the edge. “Fill me up, baby.” You looked at him, his gaze intensifying as he slammed harder into you, his hot release filling you up instantly. You fell back slightly on the counter, Mingi lying on your stomach as he slowed down his breathing, pulling out of you completely. He got up, helping you back up against him, kissing you softly. 

“I missed you.” You whispered against his lips, a huge smile spreading on his face. “Does this mean you will sit next to me at our next pottery class?” He laughed as you smacked his arm, “Fine.”

[maudie-duan]

Summary: A lingering crush brings two old campers back as Camp Counselor in hopes that maybe, just maybe, they can finally cross a line that they've been dancing along for eight long years, but when Harry turns a cold shoulder, you're left wondering if you'll ever actually get the chance you've been dreaming of. A chance to call him yours. Word Count: 8.9k Warning: Mild Angst, Mild Smut, Fluff, and Falling In Love!

This was it, right? This was the place that set the landscape for most of your daydreams. A place so vivid in your mind that no matter where you were or what you were doing, all you would have to do was close your eyes, and there you were, standing at the edge of the lake, watching the wind send gentle waves swaying across the water.

This was Camp Wildwood.

Your sanctuary

Your escape.

Your body knew this, knew the earthy scent of pine, how it picked up on the breeze skimming over Lake Serenade, the rustle of the leaves echoing their whispers to the soft, warm air on a summer night as the rest of the world went still around you, silence, only the earth singing her praise with the hum of nature.

There was no other place like it. This was what you looked forward to every year: that scent, this view—the wooden cabins nestled between tall trees, the shimmering lake in the distance, and the large campfire pit where you had spent countless summer nights singing songs and roasting marshmallows. This was your home away from home ever since you were ten, a welcome escape from the concrete jungle of New York City.

But this summer was different.

This summer, you weren’t just a camper; you were a counselor.

Your eyes darted across the grounds, desperate in their search for that one familiar face among the sea of arriving staff members, hope swelling in your chest. You didn’t think you would be this anxious or that your heart would be hammering against your ribs. Was it excitement or dread, a delicate mix swirling with a year of emotions you had kept at bay waiting for this one moment.

 Would he keep his promise? What if he’d changed his mind?

Harry.

The boy who had claimed your heart with his dimpled smile and laughing eyes, and like clockwork each summer, Harry was sure to take a tiny piece of you with him when the inevitable goodbye rolled off that sweet British tongue.

Eight years of this. 

You knew it was more than a summer crush, and the very thought of him not showing made your stomach twist into knots, and you stood there, trying to prepare yourself for the possibility that he might not come.

You still remembered the first time you met him.

You were both ten, awkward and shy, of course, two newbies assigned to neighboring cabins. He had this thick accent that made all the American kids giggle, but you found it endearing, the cadence like music to your ears, and the two of you became fast friends. Over the years, your friendship had grown, evolving into something that teetered on the edge of romance but never quite tipped over. There was always an unspoken understanding between you—always a summer crush that remained just that because what was the point, right? When camp ended, you returned to New York, and he flew back across the ocean to England.

Last summer, on the final night of camp, you had made a pact with Harry. You were both seventeen, sitting by the lake, feet dangling in the cool water as the stars reflected on its surface.

“Next year,” he had said, his voice deeper than when you first met, “we should come back as counselors.”

You looked at him then, memorizing the way the moonlight cast shadows on his beautiful face. “Promise?”

Then he extended his pinky finger, a childish gesture that made you giddy. “Promise.”

And you linked your pinky with his, trying to ignore the flutter in the pit of your stomach as your skin touched. “It’s a deal, Styles.”

You knew this summer marked a threshold.

A dividing line between adolescence and adulthood that neither one of you could ignore. At eighteen, you both stood at the cusp of real life, of college decisions and career paths that would inevitably pull you in different directions. You had both changed; you could hear it in the deep timbre of his voice during those rare phone calls and could definitely see it in the subtle maturity that had crept into his features in the photos he posted, the people and things he surrounded himself with.

Coming back to Camp Wildwood no longer felt like a reunion with a place or even a person—It felt like a collision between memory and possibility. It would no longer be the innocent summers of friendship bracelets and ghost stories around the campfire.

Those days were behind you.

What lay ahead was uncharted territories—a summer where stolen glances might stir something more, or maybe those understood feelings might finally lead to something more concrete. Every fiber of your being knew that the weeks that lay ahead would either transform everything between you or bring eight years of summer dreams to a bittersweet end, and you would have to be okay with that.

You would have to move on.

Now, as you dragged your suitcase toward the counselors’ cabins, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had kept his promise.

“Hey! City girl!”

The British draw made you freeze. Slowly, you turned around, and there he was—Harry, walking toward you with that same smile that had been haunting your dreams for years.

Except, he wasn’t exactly the same. He was taller, his shoulders more broad. His once short, curly hair now fell in loose waves around his face. But his eyes—those fucking green eyes that reminded you of the forest surrounding you.

Those eyes were still the same.

And those eyes were moving down your body at a pace that made you want to run and hide.

“Harry,” you breathed, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. “You came back.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He reached for you, hesitant for a moment before pulling you into a hug, and you melted into his embrace, breathing in his scent as a heady rush of emotions coursed through your body, and you closed your eyes, letting the hug linger until he moved away.

When he pulled back, his eyes roamed your face as if reacquainting himself with your features. “You look good, city girl.”

“Not so bad yourself, Brit,” you teased, trying to ignore the way your heart raced, hoping he couldn’t see it beating at your throat like a drum.

For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

The both of you were still those two kids with summer crushes, stealing glances across the campfire. But then there was a strange shift in his expression, so subtle you almost missed it. A slight hardening around his eyes. A slight stiffening of his shoulders as he took a small step back, creating distance where there had been none.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing your suitcase, his voice noticeably cooler than it had been seconds ago. “Orientation starts in an hour.”

The sudden shift was disorienting as you walked beside him toward the counselors’ cabins. Your questions were already stacking up as you tried to keep pace with his long strides—he was keeping a careful space between you, his responses to your questions becoming shorter, more clipped. It confused you. The warm Harry who had embraced you was disappearing behind a wall you couldn’t make sense of, and somewhere, while you were lost in the anticipation of it all, you still thought maybe, just maybe.

Little did you know how right—and wrong—you would be.

The first week of camp flew by in a blur of orientations, you getting to know the other counselors, some new, some you still remembered. That week was spent preparing for the arrival of the campers. Luckily, you were assigned to the Maple cabin, responsible for a group of twelve-year-old girls, while Harry was put in charge of the Oak cabin with boys of the same age.

But something had definitely changed.

The easy camaraderie you had always relied on with Harry seemed to have evaporated into thin air. He was distant, almost cold. During staff meetings, he sat with the other male counselors, laughing loudly at jokes you couldn’t hear. Somedays, you only crossed paths during activities; those were the times he would give you a quick nod before turning his attention elsewhere, your eyes following him like the lovesick fool you were.

The days he didn’t look your way at all were the days that the sun seemed to swallow you into a fiery pit of hell.

Only a traitor could sink you into a cruel hole of misery.

And that’s what he was—A traitor.

It was as if the Harry you knew had been replaced by someone else—someone cocky, arrogant, and yet he was so fucking attractive.

Because that was the worst part. Despite his new attitude, you couldn’t deny that Harry had grown even more handsome over the past year. His body had filled out, muscles more defined. Had he been going to the gym? It wasn’t just his body—it was also the tattoos—every day, you swore you caught new glimpses of tattoos you had never seen before peeking out from under his tight t-shirt sleeves. The dark ink marking his tan skin was like a mystery you had yet to uncover, it drove you wild, the sight making your mouth go dry in seconds.

And fuck, if you weren’t the only one who noticed because every female counselor seemed to have their eye on him, especially Gwen from the Willow cabin, who couldn’t for the life of her shut up about him.

“God, have you seen Harry’s arms...those tattoos. It’s crazy he has that many already?” Gwen sighed one night as you both got ready for bed in the cabin you shared. “I swear, I almost fainted during the canoeing demonstration today.”

Her words made you cringe as you forced a noncommittal sound, pretending to be engrossed in the book you were reading, But really, you already wanted to bite her little Barbie head off as she brushed her long blonde hair, shiny and perfect, not a split-end in sight. She was the exact girl you pictured him with; you kept thinking every time your eyes moved to her.

“And that accent,” she gushed, oblivious to your discomfort. “It’s, like, illegal to be that hot and have a British accent. It’s not fair to the rest of us.”

“Mmm—” you mumbled, turning a page you hadn’t actually read, thinking it should probably be illegal for two really hot people to even interact; how are the rest of us supposed to have a chance when she’s walking around like fucking Malibu Barbie all day? 

Who even looks good in khaki shorts, anyway?

Only Gwen, dammit, only Gwen.

“I think he might be into me,” She added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We were on kitchen duty together yesterday. He kept making these little jokes, and our hands touched when we were washing dishes, and I swear there was a moment.”

You looked at her then, wanting to catch the look on her face as your stomach twisted at the thought, jealousy knotching down your spine with every comment, but you forced a smile. “That’s... great, Gwen.”

“I know—I mean, it’s probably nothing, but a girl can dream, right?” She flopped onto her bed, staring dreamily at the ceiling, and you hated the innocence of her carefree wonderment. You wanted it to be you. He was supposed to be grazing your hand, staring into your eyes, dammit, not sharing those dimples with someone else.

“Do you think I should make a move? or Is that too forward?” She spoke up, cutting through your raging thoughts

You wanted to kill her dreams right then and there, tell her that the Harry you knew wouldn’t be interested in someone so obvious, so shallow. But then again, was that even true anymore? The Harry you knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by this frat-boy version who might very well be into someone like Gwen.

“I don’t know him that well,” you lied, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you guys were friends. Didn’t you both go to camp here as kids?”

“We did,” you admitted. “But people change.” You forced, each word threatening to smolder out that flame that had been burning bright for him all these years because the truth held an edge you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

Then, it was like Gwen was trying to drive that knife deeper, and she said, “Well, if you have any insider info on what he’s into, feel free to give a girl some hints,” and she fucking winked before turning off her bedside lamp.

Bitch.

Traitor.

Another fake, you thought as you lay in the darkness, listening to Gwen’s breathing even out as she fell asleep. Your mind was racing. This new information opened a festering wound of envy. What had happened to Harry? Why was he acting so different? And why did it hurt so much to see him pulling away from you? and the thought you couldn’t stop repeating was:

What if he feels the same way about Gwen?

The next morning, the questions only seemed to multiply when you saw Harry and Gwen sitting close together at breakfast, their pretty little heads bent too close as they laughed over something on Harry’s phone. It made you sick, the food on your tray no longer appealing, the feeling hollowing out your chest.

But it wasn’t just Gwen. Harry seemed to be charming everyone at camp, from the youngest campers to the oldest staff members.

Even Terry, the camp director, wasn’t immune to his charm. You for sure didn’t miss the way she smiled a little wider when Harry was around, how she always seemed to find reasons to touch his arm or shoulder during conversations. And this new version of Harry didn’t seem to mind the attention whatsoever—the way he made sure to return her smiles with ones of his own, those dimples dipping, the ones you thought were reserved for you now on display for everyone because everyone got something from Harry.

Everyone except you.

That’s when spite grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to call it what it was.

Insecurity.

Harry was making you insecure, and this brought on a whole new round of emotions because never in your life had he made you feel this way about yourself—made you feel like this low hideous being, the fucking green-eyed monster you were slowly becoming in his presence.

And you hated it.

One afternoon, as you were supervising your campers during arts and crafts, you couldn’t help but observe Harry across the field, leading his group in a game of capture the flag. You sat there mesmerized, Harry moving with an air of confidence that was new, shouting encouragements and high-fiving the boys when they scored. His laughter carried across the distance, and for a moment, it was like you were transported back in time, back to a time when that laugh was usually directed at you.

“Miss, are you okay?” One of your campers, a girl named Lily, was looking at you with concern. “You look sad.”

You were quick to plaster a smile on your face. “I’m fine, Lily. Just thinking about what activity we should do next.”

“Can we go swimming? It’s so hot today.”

Relieved you nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Swimming sounds absolutely perfect. We’ll finish up here and head to the lake.”

As your group made their way to the lake, you passed Harry and his campers returning from their game. For a second, your eyes met briefly, and you swore you thought you saw a flicker of the old Harry—Those green eyes softening, a playful smirk playing at his lips when he caught you gawking after he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, and you smiled, giving yourself away, and he liked it, you swore he liked it. But then he had to go and ruin it all by looking away. His eyes cutting from you like you didn’t exist, slicing the moment by saying something to one of his campers that made the boy laugh, and the moment was gone just like that, pulled from under your feet. Stealing what little joy you had that afternoon.

That evening, after the campers were settled in their cabins for the night, all the counselors were set to gather in the staff lounge for a meeting. Still sour from earlier, you took a seat near the back, trying not to notice that Harry was sitting at the front, right next to Gwen, but what’s new?

“Alright, everyone,” Terry began, her voice carrying through the room. “First of all, great job on the first week. The campers are having a blast, and that’s all thanks to your hard work.”

There was a round of applause, and begrudgingly you forced yourself to join in, even as your eyes remained fixed on the back of Harry’s head, trying to bore a hole with your sharp gaze, it only getting worse any time Gwen leaned in to giggle in his ear.

Nothing was that funny, and here you were again.

Spiteful.

“Now, onto business,” Terry continued. “We’re going to be switching up the night patrol duty partners. We’ve decided to make the pairs co-ed, to ensure a balance of perspectives and skills.”

A murmur broke out, then—a new energy sweeping through the room. Night patrol was a responsibility all counselors shared, taking turns to walk the grounds after lights out, making sure all campers were in their cabins and everything was secure. This had never in the history of you being at camp here been co-ed, and when you saw Gwen nudge Harry’s arm with a giddy smile, it had you seeing red.

“I’ve posted the new pairings on the bulletin board outside. Please check your schedule before you leave. The new arrangements start tomorrow night.”

As the meeting wrapped up, everyone filed out to check the bulletin board. You took your time hanging back, waiting for the crowd to thin before approaching. When you finally got a clear view of the list, your heart stopped.

There, next to your name, was Harry’s.

And dammit, now you were going to be spending every third night on patrol with him, just the two of you, alone in the dark.

What would you even say? Would he say anything to you at all, or would that wall be a stone fortress?

Impenetrable by your existence alone. 

You raked your eyes from the list, meeting Harry’s gaze across the crowd. He was looking at you with another one of those unreadable expressions, his jaw tight. It was like the world stopped as the moment stretched between you, charged with something you couldn’t name, and before you could let his cold stare burn you alive, you turned and stormed off, your head a tangled mess of anger, confusion, a sudden traitorous flutter of excitement because god, you had wanted to be alone with him since the day you got here, and now this was your chance.

Sometimes fate gives you exactly what you asked for—and that’s the problem at times, right?

The following day passed in a blur of activities and camper obligations, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the upcoming night patrol with Harry, an endless chatter of thoughts circling. By the time evening rolled around, your nerves were stretched thin.

Exhausted. You just wanted to crawl into bed.

But you carried on.

After ensuring your campers were settled for the night, with the junior counselor on duty inside the cabin, you made your way to the main office, where night patrol always began. Harry was already there, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as you approached, his face carefully neutral, and so was yours.

“Hey,” he mumbled, pocketing his phone.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice cooler than intended, and you forced your eyes away from his face. You’re heart already aching for the past.

With perfect timing, Terry emerged from her office, handing you both flashlights. “Standard route tonight, guys. Perimeter check, then a sweep of the main areas. Radio if you see anything concerning.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact with both of them. You weren’t sure if you could do this if you could play it cool.

“You two have a good night. I always love seeing old campmates reconnect. That’s why I paired the two of you together,” Terry said, her hand lingering on Harry’s arm a beat longer than necessary before she retreated back to her office.

The silence that set in between you and Harry was deafening as you stepped out into the night. The camp was quiet, too quiet. Most of the lights in the cabins were already out. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets and the distant hooting of an owl.

Without hesitation, you started walking toward the perimeter path, Harry falling into step beside you, his presence making you angry, yet you wanted him near, which made you even angrier, which made the silence loom, and that made you even angrier, and here you were getting sucked into a vicious cycle until the tension shaped itself into a palpable entity—a living thing that seemed to grow and stretch with each passing minute of silence, trying to steal the words crawling up your throat.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you spoke. “So, what’s your problem?”

Harry glanced at you, his expression guarded. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Harry. You’ve been avoiding me since camp started. Actually, no—you’ve been actively ignoring me. What did I even do?” And you reached for his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

He let out a sigh like he couldn’t be bothered to answer the question, and he ran a hand through his hair, making your insides ache to be the one touching him in this very moment, “You didn’t do anything.” He forced.

“Then why are you acting like I don’t exist? We were friends, Harry. At least, I thought we were.”

“We were,” he said quietly. “We are.”

“Really? Because friends don’t ignore each other for weeks. Friends don’t act like complete strangers after knowing each other for eight years.”

Harry turned away, then shook his head, and you grabbed at his arm, desperate for him to look you in the eyes. In the moonlight, his features were shadowed, but you could still see the conflict in his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“Well—uncomplicate it for me,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

He looked away, his jaw working as if he was struggling with what to say. “I just... I thought it would be easier this way.”

“Easier for who? Because it’s certainly not easier for me to have you suddenly turn into some kind of stranger.”

“For both of us,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “Look, we’re not kids anymore. We can’t just pick up where we left off every summer and pretend like the rest of the year doesn’t exist.”

His words landed hard on your ears, the truth a weight you knew you both had been carrying, “I never pretended that.” You whispered

“Didn’t you? We text what? A few times, like some obligatory check-in, and then nothing until we’re back here. And then what? We have our summer thing and then go back to our separate lives? It’s not real, is it? How could any of that be real?

You took a step back, the pain in his voice washing over you., “It was real to me, Harry. Every moment we spent together was real to me.”

Something flickered in his eyes—a vulnerability that reminded you of the boy you used to know. But then it was gone, replaced by that new hardness you had come to associate with this new version of Harry.

“Well, maybe it shouldn’t have been,” he said, his voice curt. “Maybe we should have just kept it casual, like everyone else does at summer camp.”

“Is that what you’re doing now? Keeping it casual with Gwen? With Terry? Fuck, I don’t know, with anyone who gives you attention?”

The words came out harsher than you intended, your jealousy spewing, all the hurt you had been trying to suppress rising to the surface.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You come back here all different, with your new look and this new freaking attitude, flirting with everyone except me. What am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to think that maybe I grew up. That maybe I’ve realized that whatever was going on between us wasn’t going anywhere. That maybe I’m trying to move on.”

The confession hit you like a physical blow. You had always known, logically, that your summer connection with Harry had an expiration date. But hearing him say it out loud, confirming that he was actively trying to move past whatever feelings he’d had for you—it hurt more than you could have imagined because these weren’t the words you wanted to hear him say.

“Fine,” you said, your voice barely audible. “If that’s what you want, then fine. Let’s just get through this patrol, and then we can go back to ignoring each other.”

That was it. This was how it would end.

And now you had to move on.

Gutted, somehow, you forced yourself from his gaze and turned to continue walking, your vision blurring as hot tears welled despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. Each step felt heavier than the last, your chest constricting with an ache so visceral you could barely breathe as the heat of the night swarmed your lungs. Your throat burned, a painful lump growing, choking off any words you might have said to salvage what was breaking between you.

But there was nothing because he seemed to have made up his mind.

Behind you, Harry’s heavy sigh cut through the night like a knife, twisting deeper into the wound his words had already carved. He followed, his footsteps hesitant, maintaining a distance that felt both suffocatingly close and devastatingly far—slowly morphing into the physical manifestation of what your relationship had become, but nothing hurt worse than the silence because there’s nothing like the finality that silence brings, a tangible hurt, something that could crush you beneath its weight if you let it.

And you weren’t sure if you could stop it or if you wanted to.

Let him see you cry, you thought.

 Make him see the pain he’s causing you.

The rest of the patrol passed in strained silence, both of you performing your duties mechanically. As you approached the supply cabin—the last stop on your route—you noticed the door was slightly ajar.

“The supply cabin’s open,” you forced out, the first words either of you had spoken in nearly an hour.

Harry nodded, pushing past you, and he forced the door wider, his silent gesture adding a sting to the hurt. “Probably just someone forgetting to lock up after getting equipment for tomorrow.”

You didn’t want to but followed him inside, and the small space seemed to narrow, feeling smaller with both of you in it. The cabin was filled with shelves of sports equipment, arts and crafts supplies, and other camp necessities. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting everything in a dim, yellow light when Harry pulled the chain.

“Doesn’t look like anything’s missing,” he said, scanning the shelves, and your eyes roamed over his face wishing that he looked as shitty as you felt, but he still held some kind of power over you, and you felt the ache deep in your bones.

You nodded, suddenly very aware of how close he was in the confined space. The scent of him—the earthy pine from the forest, the woody campfire from earlier, and something recognizably Harry—filled your senses, making it harder to concentrate on the task at hand.

And what was that again?

“We should check the inventory list, just to be sure,” you said, moving toward the clipboard hanging on the wall.

As you reached for it, Harry reached for it, too, his hand brushing against yours, and you both froze, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him much closer than you expected.

His green eyes, dark in the dim light, searched yours as the tension between you shifted, transforming from anger and hurt into something else entirely—something buzzing with a dangerous thrill that had you aching for a different ending.

“Harry,” you whispered, not sure if it was a question or a plea.

He swallowed, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah?” He forced.

“Tell me why you came back?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

He didn’t answer, just took a step closer, eliminating what little space remained between you both, and your back hit the wall, the clipboard forgotten as it clattered to the floor, the sound making your heart race because you had never felt anything like this before.

This pull.

His gaze.

The magnitude of the words not spoken.

“This,” he murmured, his breath warm against your face. “Us.”

Your heart was pounding, your body painfully aware of every point where it almost touched his. “I don’t want it to end like this...” You breathed.

Whatever resolve he seemed to have before crumbled at your words. With a groan that sounded like surrender, Harry closed the final distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that took your breath away.

The kiss was nothing like you had imagined during all those summers of wondering. It was better—raw and desperate, edged with the frustration that had been building between you for weeks, for years. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as yours tangled in his hair, those soft curls you had dreamed of touching for years, now threading through your fingers with a new drive.

When you finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Harry pushed his forehead to yours. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice rough.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, your fingers still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, his eyes drawing you in, holding you in place, when everything in you was screaming this is a bad idea.

“Because I was scared. Because every summer, I’d go home with this ache in my chest, missing you. And it got harder each year, knowing that whatever we had was confined to this place, to these few weeks.” and fuck, if those weren’t the words you had been dying to hear.

And you felt it.

This flood of realization.

This understanding—his distance, his new persona. It was all a defense mechanism, his way of protecting himself from the pain of wanting something he thought he couldn’t have.

“I missed you too,” you admitted. “Every day, not just during summer.”

And for the first time since you had arrived at camp, his fucking walls were coming down, you could see the shift in his gaze, feel raw emotion replacing the careful distance as his searching eyes met yours. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, pulling him back to you for another kiss.

This one was slower.

Deeper.

Set with a new determination.

You wanted your mouth to speak, your mouth moving against his to drive a conversation without words, to express everything you had been holding back. All the things you wish you had ever said. Harry’s hands slid under the hem of your t-shirt, his touch warm and foreign but delicate, and you arched into him, wanting more, needing more, as a curious edge took over.

“Are you sure about this?” Harry asked, his voice strained as he pulled back slightly.

For weeks, your mind had been racing with conflicting thoughts. This was Harry—the boy you had a crush on for years, the one who had been ignoring you for weeks, the one who made your heart race and your blood boil all in one breath. You weren’t sure of anything except that you wanted him, right now, in this dusty supply cabin with the moonlight filtering through the small window.

You needed him.

Because you had never been more scared or excited in your life.

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Are you?”

“I want you so fucking bad,” and then he kissed you again, more pressing this time, his roaming hands becoming bolder as they explored your body. You responded in kind, tugging at his t-shirt until he broke the kiss long enough to yank it over his head.

The sight of him shirtless—all defined muscles and tattoos you had only caught glimpses of before—made your breath catch, and you ran your curious hands over his chest, tracing the outlines of the ink on his skin, learning him by touch.

“Your turn,” he breathed, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

With a quiet nod, you raised your arms, allowing him to pull your shirt off, and you saw the want in his eyes as they took in the sight of you in your bra, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. “So fucking sexy,”

His words sent a rush through you, emboldening you to reach behind and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor between you. For a second, you stood there, but Harry’s sharp intake of breath was all you needed to snap you out of your nervous haze, and then his hands were moving to your bare skin, cupping your breasts with a gentleness that contradicted the hunger in his eyes.

“God—I want you so bad,” he admitted, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, making your spine straighten. “This. For years.”

“Me too, I want it so bad,” you almost begged, pushing the words out with a hunger you had never heard leave your mouth.

With a breathy laugh that sent a shiver down your spine, Harry lifted you, your legs wrapping tight around his waist as he carried you to a cleared space on one of the tables. His mouth collided with your body in haste, moving to your neck, trailing hot kisses down to your collarbone, then lower, taking one of your nipples between his teeth, then sucking it into his mouth.

You let out a moan, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through you, and your shaky hand fumbled with the button of his jeans, desperate to feel more of him. Even more desperate to see all of him. Harry just as needy lent a helping hand, stepping back just long enough to shed his pants and boxers before helping you out of yours.

And then you were both naked, laid bare before him in the dim light of the supply cabin, years of unspoken desire finally confirmed in this moment. Harry stood between your legs, his hands running up and down your thighs as his eyes devoured you. There was an honesty in his touch that filled the silence with the truth your words had failed to communicate, and as you stared into his eyes, a tiny voice in your head whispered that there was no going back from this moment, that everything would change, and you welcomed it even as butterflies swarmed your stomach.

 You felt him in that moment, everything you ever wanted, and your body hummed with it, an electric current of need that overrode the trembling in your limbs. Because no matter how many times you had imagined it, you never truly believed it would happen. His green eyes said it all: you knew this would be worth the wait, that he would be worth the wait.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked his voice horse with an effort to keep hold of his composure.

You nodded as your gaze drifted down his body, “Yes—and I’m clean. You?” You spoke up, trying to stay in the moment, but everything about him threatened to steal you completely.

“Clean,” he almost blurted. “Got tested after my last relationship ended.”

The mention of his past relationships sent a pang of jealousy through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realization that this was happening—you and Harry, finally crossing the line you had danced along for years because you knew once you had him, you were never letting go.

Then Harry stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you held your breath as he positioned himself at your entrance, “Last chance to back out,” he said, concern pinching between his brows.

And for a moment, there was fear, and you exhaled, ready to surrender, to give yourself entirely. Then you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. “I’m not backing out. I want you, Harry. I’ve always wanted you.”

“I’ll go slow...” He promised, and then he was gently pushing into you with a soft groan slipping past his lips, his pace achingly slow as he slid past your opening, and you bit down to bite back your moan. 

Because even though your word spoke otherwise, it didn’t stop the fear that was gripping your body, every muscle tightening the second he began to push.

Harry’s eyes stayed trained on yours, watching your every reaction with an intensity that made you feel exposed, cherished in the way every touch was tender, controlled precision as the feeling of him gradually filling you became overwhelming—It wasn’t just the bodily sensation that made your breath catch or made your fingers dig into his shoulders, but it was the thundering realization that this was Harry, finally becoming part of you after eight years of wanting and waiting.

And held onto him as your bodies connected. You knew this would go beyond the physical. Each tiny movement carried the weight of countless summers, missed opportunities, and veiled confessions. When you felt the slight tremor in his arms as he held himself above you, restraining himself, you realized he was putting your comfort before his own desire—a devotion that made your heart swell even as your body adjusted to the newness of him.

Neither of you spoke.

It was only the sounds of your shared breaths and the whispered rustle of skin against skin, yet in the silence, years of longing were finally answered in this perfect, imperfect, beautifully human moment of this bond—it was yours, it was his, and a new history was soon to evolve.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, his forehead pressed hard against yours as he stilled, fully inside you now. “You feel amazing.”

But you couldn’t form words.

You could only nod, and you wordlessly pulled him closer, urging him to move, and he complied, starting with slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping his name as air flooded your lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving marks that would remind him of this moment tomorrow.

It was all happening so fast. This new sensation, Harry filling you in ways you had never been filled before. It was pleasure, and it was pain, and all you could think about was how badly you had wanted this, him, in this moment, him inside you, his body pressed to you in an act you had both played out before, but this was different because you had never wanted something so bad in your life.

The taste of his mouth, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, heavy and desperate, and as the pleasure built, Harry’s pace increased, his hips snapping against yours with a need that matched your own, and then one of your hands slipped between your bodies, ready to move with the rhythm taking way.

“Are you ready to come for me,” he nudged, his tone rough with exertion. “I want to feel you come around me.”

Your hand picked up the pace then, his words spurring you on, lighting a fire deep in your belly, knowing the extra stimulation was about to push you over the edge. You could feel your orgasm ascending up your spine, a slow burn that hit with such force that the intensity had you crying out Harry’s name, and he quickly muffled you with his mouth, kissing you deeply as your body pulsed around him. Your orgasm triggered his own, and he buried himself deep inside you, one last hard thrust as his body shuddered, and he pressed you into the table as if he could merge your bodies into one.

And maybe in that moment, you were.

Because every single thought you had ever had seemed to slip away in the stillness that was mounting between your bodies.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, connected in a frenzied stillness, the both of you trying to catch your breath. Harry’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as your hands traced lazy patterns on his back, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. The rawness etched across his features sent a pang of tenderness straight through your chest. “That was...”

“Yeah,” you laughed out with a breath, understanding exactly what he couldn’t put into words. “It was.”

Then he kissed you again, softly, this time as he slowly but carefully withdrew, and he broke the kiss to help you down from the table. You both dressed in silence, but it wasn’t the tense silence from before. There was comfort in the shared intimacy, an openness that wasn’t there before as you watched one another reassemble in the sacred moment that could only ever be yours, a moment that no one could ever take away because it could never be undone.

And for once, the silence that stood between you wasn’t a lack of what was or would have been; now it spoke of something different, something looming just over the horizon with endless possibilities now bursting at the seams.

As you finished buttoning your khaki shorts, Harry reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve never seen anyone look better in those shorts, by the way. I’ve been eyeing you all summer,” he announced, breaking the silence, and you had to look away because you knew your face was beaming from the compliment.

“What?” He smirked over at you, and you shook your head bashful all of a sudden. “Come here.” He said, hooking his fingers in your belt loops to draw you closer.

When your body collided with him, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then looked you in the eyes and asked, “What happens now?”

It was the question you had both been avoiding for years—the one that always cast its shadow at the end of every summer. But this time, it would be different. This time, you had both crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “But I don’t want to go back to ignoring each other.”

Harry nodded, his gentle hand still lingering on your cheek. “Me neither. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I really did think it would be easier. It definitely made it worse.”

“It did,” you agreed. “For both of us.”

Then he released a weary breath and gathered you against his chest. The sensation of his arms around you felt like safety, a rightness you had been missing for so long, a sense of belonging. “Can we just... see where this goes? For now? No pressure, no expectations. Just us, figuring it out day by day.”

Gracious for his honesty, you slowly nodded against his chest and breathed him in. “I’d like that.”

As you left your tiny world in the supply cabin, making sure to lock it behind you, The world grew wider. Harry’s gaze held a new meaning as he took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, something ordinary taking on a new reality, a giddy sense of hope lengthening your spine as the cool air wisped over your flushed skin, a reminder of what just happened. It wasn’t perfect, and you still felt the fear, but there was promise of something new, something real.

Harry was real.

This was real.

A lingering thrill hung over you both the rest of the night. Patrol seemed to pass in a different kind of silence—a new wonderment emerging with every stolen glance, the secret smiles, or the occasional kiss when you were sure no one was watching. And when you finally returned to your respective cabins as dawn broke, it was with the understanding that something had fundamentally changed between you.

It was like summer had just begun, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, what you and Harry had wouldn’t end when the leaves started to turn.

In the weeks that followed, you lived in the secret fever dream shared between you and Harry. During the day, you maintained a professional distance, focusing on your campers and your responsibilities, but let us not downplay all the stolen glances from across the dining hall, or the brush of his hand against yours during staff meetings, and Jesus, the way his eyes always found yours in a crowd.

They all told a different story.

And the nights—Holy fuck, the nights were spun from stardust and stolen moments, a secret universe belonging only to you two. You knew that as soon as darkness draped its velvet cloak over the camp, you would find each other like magnets drawn across the grounds. Whether officially patrolling together beneath a canopy of twinkling constellations or sneaking away to your special spot by the moonlit lake, you felt it, the magic at the tips of your fingers like you both could bend and stretch time to accommodate your every wish.

Every hour spent in Harry’s arms dissolved into sweet nothings and gentle discoveries as you mapped each other’s hearts and bodies with the enchanted wonder of explorers who had finally, yes, finally, found their promised land. What had lived so long in the realm of dreams now bloomed between your tangled fingers and whispered confessions, now becoming more magical than anything your younger selves could have possibly imagined.

There was so much you didn’t know.

In the quiet hours of the night, nestled against his chest, you had asked about each new tattoo that marked his skin. You watched Harry’s eyes light up as his fingers guided yours over the raised ink, each design carrying its own story of the years you had spent apart, and with every new whispered explanation, you felt the distance of all those separate years contracting as you traced the patterns with your fingertips. Then, your lips would meet his skin with a gentle kiss, silently adding your own meaning to each symbol. These weren’t just tattoos anymore; they were chapters of his life you had missed, now being shared exclusively with you like precious secrets finally coming home.

And this is what it was. Every night, something new was revealed, unpacking each detail of each other willingly, freely, creating a new sanctuary in one another.

He learned that you sang in the shower, that you had a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon on your hip, one he would kiss any chance he got. When you told him that you could name every constellation visible in the summer sky, he rested his head on your bare stomach, and every time you peeled your eyes away from the stars, you saw him looking up at you, his head rising and falling with every gentle breath that left your lungs. 

One night, when the conversation turned to dreams, he listened to your dream of becoming a journalist, of traveling the world, of making a difference, and as he pressed your naked bodies together, he whispered, ‘You’ll change the world, you’re already changing mine.” you knew at that moment that you had fallen in love.

As the final week of camp approached, the days seemed to slip through your fingers like water, each sunset stealing the precious hours you could never reclaim, settling over you like a bittersweet yearning already seeping into your bones, at times coloring even the most perfect moments with Harry in gloomy shades of goodbye just knowing that the ending was near.

The summer had been magical—life-changing even—turning you both into versions of yourselves you never knew existed. Those nights spent wrapped in his arms beneath ancient pines had rewritten your understanding of belonging and what it would mean for you moving forward. Every shared secret seemed to build a world that felt both fragile and indestructible all at the same time.

But as the camp calendar thinned and counselors began their whispered goodbyes, that question that had shadowed every summer of your relationship with Harry now loomed impossibly large, casting its long shadow across your happiness, trying to steal the joy you had both worked so hard to cultivate. What would happen when camp ended? When the forest finally gave way to airports and oceans. When this suspended reality came crashing down, forcing you both back into the separate lives you knew were waiting just on the other side of all these little moments.

And as you lay there on the blanket by the lake, far enough from the main camp to ensure the perfect privacy, Harry rested his head in your lap as you mindlessly ran your fingers through his curls. You felt it tugging, goodbye at the forefront of your mind. You couldn’t help the ache knawing at the pit of your stomach even as the stars shone bright above, reflecting on the still water of the lake. The vision was a masterpiece, mirroring back the beauty of another sweet moment you got to share with Harry still in reach.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asked, his tone soft, like velvet in the quiet night.

You hesitated, scared, not wanting to break the peaceful moment, but you wanted to be brave, “The future,” you finally divulged.

He shifted, sitting up to look at you. “What about it?”

“Camp ends in a week,” you said, finally voicing the fear that had been growing inside you for days. “And then what happens? Do you go back to England? Do I go back to New York, and we just... what? Text occasionally until next summer? If there is a next summer?”

Harry’s brows drew together at this as a quiet moment stretched between you, his eyes searching yours in the moonlight. “Is that what you want?”

“No—” you forced without hesitation. “But I honestly don’t know what the alternative is. Long-distance relationships are hard, Harry. And we’re both starting university in the fall, and—”

He laughed, catching you off guard when he silenced you with a kiss, soft and sweet, and when he pulled back, there was a determination in his eyes that made your heart race. “I got accepted to NYU,” he said quietly. “For their music program.”

For a second, you stared at him unmoving, not sure you had heard him correctly. “Wait? What?”

“I applied last fall, got accepted in the spring. I was going to tell you when camp started, but then I got scared, and I was an asshole...you know, the bit. When I tried to convince myself that what we had was just a summer thing.”

“But it’s definitely not, right?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “It never was.”

He smiled then, that cute fucking dimpled smile that had captured your heart years ago. “No, it wasn’t. And I don’t want it to be. I want to see where this goes properly. No more summers only, no more oceans between us.”

Joy bubbled up inside you, a happiness so intense it brought tears to your eyes. “You’re really coming to New York?”

“I am,” he confirmed, wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. “If that’s okay with you.”

You laughed, throwing your arms around him, knocking him to the ground. “Harry! It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.”

He hugged you close, his heart beating steadily against yours as the sense of finally hung above you. “I love you,” he whispered into your hair. “I think I have for years.”

The words rushed over your skin, warm and gentle, as you savored them on your tongue. Words so long unspoken but finally given with such thoughtfulness you almost forgot to say them back. “I love you too, Harry. Always have.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the vast sky, the future no longer seemed uncertain. It stretched before you, full of possibilities—just knowing Harry would be by your side seemed to chase any fear you had left. You smiled, knowing that while summer had been your beginning, your story was just starting to unfold. This time, when you left Camp Wildwood, you wouldn’t be leaving your heart behind.

Summer was ours, you thought as you listened to the rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat under the stars.

And now, everything else would be too.

A/N: Man! I think I could have gone on forever with these two. I really liked them! I hope you got as much joy as I got out of them. This got a little angsty. But I think it was well worth it! 🙃

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden @spinninc @iloveharrystyles04

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[22ayla21]

Hello, may I request a Raspberry sorbet and Red wine for Lilia Vanrouge, please?

"Raspberry Sorbet and Red Wine"

Event: "Sweet Stories, Intoxicating Feelings"

Evenings in the Briar Valley breathed a special enchantment. The winds whispered ancient tales, the sunset sky blazed with a deep gold, and time seemed to slow its pace, gifting each moment with fullness – like wine poured into a slender glass, waiting for its aroma to fill the air.

Lilia, comfortably settled on the terrace, watched his wife with a tender smile as she fussed over their little daughter. The girl laughed melodiously, patting the table with her small hands, where a dessert stood – raspberry sorbet. Bright, sparkling, as if a ray of the setting sun had frozen in its berry coolness. His wife gently fed their daughter, laughing in response to her funny grimaces as she wrinkled her nose at the cold, but immediately demanded another spoonful.

At that moment, Lilia thought that if love could be compared to something simple, then in the very beginning it was exactly like this – like this raspberry sorbet. Light, refreshing, with an unexpected spark piercing the very heart. A burst of flavor, a fleeting bliss – and now it was hard to imagine life without this sweet coolness on the tongue.

When he first realized he had fallen in love with an ordinary woman – not a sorceress, not a warrior, not an ephemeral dreamer, but a living and real one, with warm hands, tired eyes, and a kind voice – it was like inhaling the scent of a summer garden after the rain. An inexplicable, almost childlike feeling. Raspberry sorbet in the heart of a warrior.

They were different. He – from a world where honor and blood were inseparable, where every gesture held magic, and a smile could be both caress and deception. She – from a world where tea is drunk hot in any weather, and where the words "everything is fine" truly mean peace.

But love turned out to be something more than a simple coincidence or logic. It had, as it turned out later, the patience of wine.

Years passed. The raspberry sorbet did not disappear – it remained in memories, in light touches, in quiet laughter in the kitchen. But love became different. Not a flash, but a depth. Not an icy sweetness, but the velvety richness of mature wine. Aged, rich, where each year lived added a new note.

There were quarrels. Sometimes the silence lasted agonizingly long. Sometimes they got lost in the routine of everyday life. But they always found their way back to each other. They always returned to what bound them. And every time her fingers gently touched his cheek, and her gaze met his – calm, understanding, warm – Lilia felt that long aftertaste. Rich, like that of a wine, of which one sip is enough to warm the very heart.

Sometimes he brewed tea, not caring about the exact proportions, and she baked a pie, grumbling at the capricious oven, and in these moments love manifested itself in laughter, in playful teasing, in random kisses, in the babbling of their daughter. He looked at them and understood: there had been battles, blood, triumphs, and defeats in his life – but here was the true reward.

Love, like sorbet, refreshes the soul at the very beginning, giving faith in a miracle. But only time, patience, and years spent together turn it into wine – a drink where every sip is a story, and every moment is meaning.

Lilia closed his eyes. A light breeze played with his hair, his daughter laughed carefree, and his wife leaned down and touched his temple with a kiss, leaving a fleeting raspberry scent on his skin.

"Everything okay?" she asked softly.

"Perfect," he replied, feeling warmth spreading inside him.

He knew: love is not just one feeling. It is an entire journey. From icy sweetness to warm depth. From a fleeting spark – to an unquenchable fire that warms the whole life.

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath The Noise - George Clarke

————————————————————

Summary: When Y/N joins a chaotic drunk bingo challenge across London, she doesn't expect to fall for the smirking stranger who always seems one step ahead.

———————————————————————————

“You can do this,” Y/N whispers under her breath as she stares at the apartment door, the painted wood blurring slightly as her pulse thuds behind her eyes. Her hand hovers near the doorknob, not quite touching. For a beat, she lets the noise from inside wash over her—laughter, music, voices overlapping with the easy confidence of people who already know each other.

Her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag. Social anxiety hasn't been bad recently—not like it used to be—but stepping into an unfamiliar group, especially one where everyone already fits, still makes her chest flutter with a too-familiar tension. She’s not sure if it's dread or anticipation, or some twisted blend of both.

She closes her eyes and exhales slowly, mentally rehearsing her smile. Just be cool. Be normal. Be fun.

“You alright?”

The voice behind her is casual, but it slices clean through her spiraling thoughts. She jolts, heart leaping in her chest.

“Oh shit.” She spins slightly, not fully turning around, eyes fixed on the door like it's safer to face. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” the stranger replies, amusement threaded through his tone.

Before she can make sense of that answer—or the weird prickle of awareness that races down her spine—he steps past her and swings the door open. As he leans in, his breath grazes her ear.

“They won’t bite.”

A shiver flickers down her neck, too subtle to show but too sharp to ignore. And then he’s gone, swallowed by the noise and the light inside. She blinks after him, catching only a flash of his back and the echo of his words as her pulse stubbornly refuses to settle.

Who the hell was that?

She barely has time to collect herself before Chris’s familiar voice booms from inside.

“Y/N! Did you have trouble finding the place?”

The warmth in his voice helps ease something tight in her chest, but not entirely. As she steps inside, her gaze skims the room, registering a handful of unfamiliar faces clustered around the lounge. She offers a tentative smile—but then her eyes land on him.

The guy from the hallway is already sprawled on the couch, looking infuriatingly smug. And way too good-looking.

“She’s been standing outside our door for like ten minutes. Total stalker behavior,” he quips before she can get a word in.

Her cheeks flare instantly, heat creeping up her neck. Seriously?

“What a prick,” she mutters under her breath, but her voice has more breath than bite.

“Okay, but why were you silently watching me from the hallway like a creep? That’s way worse,” she shoots back with a practiced smirk, masking the flurry in her chest.

Chris lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, George, you melon.”

George. She files the name away instinctively. Of course the smug stranger has a stupidly charming name.

She takes another glance around the room, spotting Arthur Hill—holy shit—and feels a little jolt of awe. She’s been a fan for years. He’s here. Just casually leaning against a kitchen counter, drink in hand. The surrealness of it all mixes with her nerves like static in her bloodstream.

She shifts closer to Chris, lowering her voice. “Are you going to introduce me, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, shit, sorry,” he says, turning back to the room. “You’ve already met George—aka the hallway lurker.”

George gives a mock bow from the couch, grinning. Y/N pointedly ignores him, but she can feel his eyes on her.

Chris continues, gesturing around the room. “That’s Arthur Hill—musician extraordinaire. ArthurTV—resident nerd. And Bach—or Isaac—funny guy, big nose.”

“Wow, okay. Arthur gets a compliment and I get an insult?” Bach replies with mock offense.

“Yeah, mighty bold coming from the hobbit himself,” George adds.

The group erupts in laughter, and to her own surprise, Y/N laughs too. Not just politely, either—her nerves slip enough to let something real crack through. George glances at her, quick and knowing, and for a moment, the room tilts strangely around her.

She shakes it off, choosing a seat beside Arthur Hill. The warmth of the banter continues, and slowly, her shoulders loosen. Maybe this won't be so bad.

Then Chris launches into his idea: a chaotic, oversized game of drunk bingo. Filmed, of course. Because mainstream YouTube waits for no one.

Two teams.

Y/N is on Team 1 with ArthurTV and Bach.

George is on Team 2. A small, irrational part of her exhales in relief.

His presence is distracting—an odd mix of aggravating and… magnetic. And under the easy confidence he wears like cologne, there’s something sharper. She can’t tell if it’s a challenge or just who he is, but she already knows it’ll be a problem.

Out on the street, the energy shifts. The city is alive, buzzing around them, and the boys are ridiculous—in the best way. It helps. It drowns out the buzzing thoughts that try to creep in when she’s quiet too long.

“What should we name our team?” ArthurTV asks, glancing between them.

“Hot Ass Bitches?” Bach suggests like it's the most obvious choice in the world.

“What the fuck, mate?” Arthur laughs.

Y/N smirks. “Let’s… think on it.”

They hit up a bargain shop, digging through racks with the unrestrained energy of people who don’t take themselves too seriously. She finds a shirt—soft pink, bold print. She holds it up with a grin.

“Hey boys, I think I found something good.”

They jog over, arms full of equally awful pink tracksuit pants and sneakers.

“Oh perfect—pink all the way,” Arthur says.

She flips the shirt to show the front: Hot Bitch Ready To Party.

Bach howls. “Okay, we’re 100% calling ourselves the Hot Ass Bitches now.”

By the time they step back out, dressed head to toe in bubblegum chaos, Y/N’s laughter is real. Her anxiety hasn’t disappeared, but it’s quieter now, buried beneath the noise of absurdity and movement.

They’re rounding a corner when they run into the other team. Y/N’s breath catches, just for a second.

“Well, look what we have here,” Chris says.

George’s eyes are already on her. That same half-smirk, like he’s in on a joke she hasn’t heard yet. His gaze drops briefly to her shirt, and her cheeks flame, again.

She forces an eye roll and keeps walking. You’re not twelve. Breathe.

But just as they pass, he leans in again, too close—too familiar—and murmurs, “Nice shirt. Very accurate.”

The words are light. Harmless, technically. But his voice drops just enough to curl into her chest and settle there.

She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t need to. She can feel his smirk like static against her spine.

And despite herself—despite every rule she’s made about not falling for anyone in this scene—she’s already dreading and anticipating their next run-in.

---

1,430 words

Masterlist

Chapter two

———————————————————————————

Okay I’ve never ever written a fic of any kind but I’ve been reading a lot on here lately (ao3 and Wattpad my whole life) and wanted to give it a try.

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Just a little Touch

A/N: Please Bear with me y'all this is my first one in a while so im getting my feet wet again i really hope you all like it and enjoy it ! :)

Tag: @lostinfandoms-butitsokay

Frank Langdon X Reader

Y/N’s POV

Working as a paramedic was something that was kind of sprung on you. You weren’t really sure what you wanted to do with your life.

Then one day while you were stuck at community college you stumbled in a job fair. 

Your now cap was there and he called you over.

He didn’t have a lot of people at his table and he told you he wanted to look like he was being cool and had a following which made you laugh.

He had a table full of medical supplies and fire equipment. It drew you in right away. 

You guys talked for what seemed like hours and it really intrigued you. The thought of being to help someone else in their worst moments. Trying everything you can to make it a little more better. 

You loved your work family they had quickly become more than just a work family and more like a regular family.

They were there for you in every important moment and even every hard moment. 

They always gave you the best advice to and some of it you took and some of it you ignored.

Like one of the pieces you ignored was to not get involved with the Dr’s and the workers in the Emergency rooms. The people you worked with everyday. 

The day you walked into the ER and saw a bright eye brown haired intern on his very first day you knew it was going to be all over for you then. He looked like someone who belonged on TV and not the ER. 

He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. He looked sheet white and he couldn’t make heads or tails of anything. You couldn;t help but just sit there and watch him your eyes were just glued. 

He looked over at you and saw you watching him and smirked over at you

. Damn you got caught is what you immediately thought. When he walked over to you, your stomach felt like a damn zoo it was rumbling all around. 

He walked over and walked right over to your face and just stood right there and followed your eyes with his. 

He just smiled up at you and your cheeks were bloodshot red. You wanted to just run away but your feet were glued to the ground. 

“Hi I’m Frank and who are you” He asked in a cocky voice. 

“I’m Y/N nice to meet you mmm let me guess your the new nurse” You said trying to get under skin. 

Which it clearly worked because he looked slightly annoyed at you. 

“And you, your cleary the new house maid” He said looking up and down at your obvious Paramedic Uniform. 

“I clean up nice but no sadly not the house maid nothing against one of the backbones of the hospital” You said smiling. 

“How nice do you clean up” Frank said in a amusing tone. 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out pretty boy” You said snapping back. 

 “Maybe I would” he said giving you a sly smile. 

**

That conversation was 4 years ago time really does have a crazy way of flying by so fast. By the end of both your crazy long shift that day he asked you out to celebrate his first day which you gladly accepted. 

It was a instant connection between the two of you. Everything just made sense and the world had a way of just standing still when you were with him.

He asked you to marry him a year to the date of you two meeting. 

The bar he rented out and he decorated it and played nothing but your favorite songs he really had a romantic side one that he kept hidden from others.

Working together most people would have found it hard and stressful considering the high stakes jobs the two of you had.

But you guys were like a machine what happened at work stayed there and you guys could always check in on each other throughout the day. 

Which helped more than you both knew. It would always give you that check back in that moment of i can breathe again. 

That’s not to say it could just as much take you away from your work to.

The way you both worried about each other when it was extra hard. A day like today which at first seemed like a normal day. 

But you knew you should never think like that before. It was ending your shift and you were ready to go home.

You were tired and you wanted nothing but take out and to take a long bath maybe alone maybe with your husband if you were nice. 

But life had other plans when you got a mass alert there was a shooter at the pitt fest. Everyone knew then it was all hand on deck and one hell of a night. 

You went straight into work mode not thinking about anything else just clearing your head and putting your entire energy into that call. 

You and your partner had worked together for years so you knew you knew you had a good support to help. 

Once you reached there it was a disaster. Fans screaming and running and workers everywhere.

The other first responders took off full steam ahead. You just dove in feet first.

Hours had passed and you didn’t realize it. You were up to your knees in traumas and just soaked in blood.

Other ambulances had gone to transport but you all stayed on the scene. Knowing you were needed there. 

You didn’t even get a moment to step away and breathe; it was just like an assembly line. One after another, an end not in sight you thought. 

****

Frank’s day was hectic from the start. With a new batch of interns and a med students

. He was busy with the non stop hectic life of the ER. He did get to see you twice today which made it easier. 

He always loved the sight of you the slight touch of his arm or even being able to lay eyes on you was plenty good enough for him. 

His day was also winding down to a close and he was grateful. His headspace was pretty much the same as yours a nice easy relaxing night. 

But then just like that fate stepped in and crushed it.

When he heard about the incoming Mass casualty event his first thought was why, and how where they going to keep up.

But once those thoughts went away he thought about you. 

He knew you were going to be there of course you were. It was your job but still the pit of his stomach couldn’t settle and his nerves felt like it was going to burst out of every part of his body. 

He took a moment while everyone was getting ready to step into the quiet of the breakroom.

He got some coffee and sat down. He pulled out his phone buzzing already with the news of what happened. 

Nothing from you which made him even more worried. He pulled up your name and sent a “ I love you” simple but with all the heart and love behind it. 

Before he put his phone away he just looked at a picture of the two of you. It was his lock screen and it was taken at the beach.

The two of you that you made him take glowing in the sun and not a care in the world. He would give anything to be there with you in that moment. 

Just as he put his phone away the first trauma rolled through and he quickly got up like a solider heading into battle. 

Just like your night hours had gone by but unlike you he noticed. He kept looking over at the door and just hoped and prayed he would get a quick look at you.

But nothing and every hour that had gone by he felt more and more anxious and sick. 

His co workers noticed and they wanted nothing more than to comfort him but they couldn’t right now and they all wanted to , they all wanted to check in with their families but they also knew his situation was different. 

They knew you were in an active dangerous situation right where the shooter was.

They couldn’t even begin to imagine the extra burden to carry along with everything else they were already dealing with. 

Frank was in between at the patients at the moment. Just got done with one and was headed over to the next one. 

He took the moment to step around with the hopes he would catch you or at least anyone who worked with you. 

He walked all around the ER and couldn't even make it outside without being called back by someone. He was hopeful everytime he did his laps.

But nothing and the pitt in his stomach just kept growing and the tiny little fire in his brain and he couldn’t put it out. 

He just wanted to run to the locker room and grab his stuff and go to you. Every muscle in his body was pushing and pulling him that way.

DR Robby just happened to look up at the young resident. He wanted nothing to go over there and comfort him. He was running all around sweat dripping.

He was also shaking a little dog who got caught in the rain

Franks face was also showing everything he was feeling. Fear, Sadness, Loss and worried shitless.

He knew nothing he would say would make this better though and that’s what killed him. He was supposed to the person everyone could rely on.

He also even debated on sending him home but he could't it was rude it was wrong but he needed the help he could't afford to loose him.

The best thing he thought was the power of distraction it was the only weapon he had.

“Frank we got a incoming over here he’s got a GSW to the chest, bleeding and he’s gonna need a crank you got it” Robby yelled out. 

Frank shook his head a moment and then looked over at robby and just shook his head yes and dove right into the patient. 

Frank knew though that no news was also the best news. That if you weren’t being rolled in here on a stretcher or he wasn’t being pulled aside by a man in a white collar shirt you were okay. 

That’s what he told himself that’s the only thing that was given him a tiny piece of comfort.

He desperately right now just craved your touch. He would give anything to hear your voice in the hall with a upcoming trauma.

A touch of the arm to let him you were there. 

He pushed all that down that for the moment. His patients needed him, his team needed him and he needed the best possible DR for them. 

Frank tried he really did, he though the was doing an okay job at hiding everything.

He was knee deep into patients and he just went one after another. But now it was gearing towards the end. 

The fire in his brain though it just kept growing along with the pitt in his stomach. It felt like it was over taking him. Like he couldn’t breathe. 

The weight was just to much for the young resident to bare and he didn’t know how he was going to keep from breaking. 

They finally said no more traumas and everyone felt like they could finally breathe for the first time since the shift began.

Frank was sitting at the Nurses station his head in his arms just needing to close his eyes for a moment. 

He didn’t even notice Dana had walked over and placed a hand on his back and started rubbing small circles on his back. 

“Hey you okay need to sit down a sandwich maybe” Dana asked in her usual mothering tone. 

“No No im good” Frank said. Not even being able to lift his head up the thought seemed like it might kill him at the moment. 

Dana walked in front of him and she knew what was really going on but she didn’t wanna bring it up and upset him.

She knew he just needed a moment and he would be okay. Of course he would and you would be to. 

“Hey why don’t you get some fresh air Nurses orders” She said smiling at him and gently pushing him off the nurses station. 

He took the hint and got up taking him arms and stretching them behind his head.  He just sighed and walked away she was right he always was. 

He walked out and didn’t say anything to anyone. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders

. At one point he didn’t even know if he was going to make it outside. 

Once he did the fresh air felt amazing. Just being able to feel the fresh air in his lungs and his skin was free was from the hospitals cold demeanor. 

He sat down on the bench his feet were crying out in pain. He didn’t even care though, he just kept scanning the parking lot.

Every time a ambulance pulled up and it wasn’t you it was like someone was taking his heart and stomping all over it. 

He kept checking his phone to. Nothing which now was getting him worried.

No more traumas no more cases why couldn’t you have taken a moment to text or call. So he took the initiative and called and of course nothing. 

He didn’t even notice his hands were shaking until he brought down the phone from his face.

He felt a overwhelming simulation in his body and he just had to get up and walk around. His whole body was just shaking and he couldn’t stop it. 

Everyone around him was just passing him by all running on nothing if it was any other day the strangers outside would have stopped him but today it looked normal. 

He couldn’t even take it anymore it was just thoughts and thoughts passing through his brain. Certainly the worst had happened and they were backed up in letting him know. 

He thought about what he wanted to say to you one more time. He loved you,

he was grateful for you. He wanted to smell your signature scent, he wanted to kiss you softly and even hard. 

Running all around he thought he was going to pass out he could feel it.

His knees were shaky and he couldn’t breathe and he was still shaking all over

. He had no choice but to just sit on the ground and try and center himself. 

His head was in his lap and he was just self soothing at this point. The noises around him had gone silent. 

When suddenly a warm familiar hand touched him. It instantly pulled him back to earth and he didn’t even need to look up and see who it was. 

He lifted his head up so fast he stood immediately on his feet. His blue eyes matching yours and he couldn’t even control the weight of his body. 

He just grabbed on to you and pulled you in tight. He didn’t say a word he barely looked at you. He crushed you but you either could care less. 

For the first time in 4 hours he took his first breath all nigh and god it felt good. 

“I love you , I love you”. Was all Frank kept saying it was all he could get out. 

God he needed this , God he needed you

**

Y/N POV

God the night was a absolute mess.

No matter what you did you couldn’t even take a moment to process everything that was happening.

It was like you were in override mode. You thanked god for adrenaline because otherwise you would be dead right now. 

You were assigned to stay on the ground it was all hands there. There was some ambulances 

That was taking patients but there was an overflow of people who could be treated and the scene was too unstable to move right away. 

The hours were long but fast it felt like they were also just flying by to. You thought about Frank nonstop.

You were wondering how he was handling the Pitt.  You knew the trauma he was dealing with and you needed him so damn bad. 

Just to be able to hear his voice and to touch him. Your body longed for him and it was like you were missing a big part of yourself. 

Finally after 4 hours of being there you all were released to go. You asked for your partner to drop you off at the hospital.

Your anxiety through the roof the whole time. Not knowing how frank would be. 

When the ambo pulled up you saw him sitting on the ground shaking and your entire heart broke.

You barely came to a complete stop when you opened up the door and ran out. 

You ran over to him placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t even look up he just jumped so fast which scared you a bit but then he pulled you in tight.

He was holding you so close that if he let go you were going to be gone. 

You didn’t say anything though you both needed it so you nestled right back into him.

The strong scent of the hospital just laid all over him like a coat and it usually bothered you but today it didn’t. 

You both stayed like that for a while.

When you pulled apart he didn’t waste any time before he leaned in and kissed you hard.

You felt the butterflies entering your stomach for the first time all day you felt at peace. 

After the kiss broke you placed your hand on his face. And he leaned into it 

“Hey come on let’s go home im starved and i need a long bath” You said. 

“How about Chinese and we soak and eat at the same damn time” He said 

“There is no where else I would rather be” You said. 

You walked into the parking lot over to his car and waited for him to gather his stuff and come out. 

When he did he ran over to the car like he was afraid he was going to be dragged back in. 

You both got in and he instantly grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He speed off fast and you melted into the seat closing your eyes. 

His touch soothed you so much the one you craved all day was finally here. God you loved him and you were so grateful on nights like these you had him. 

He thought was thinking the same damn thoughts about you. How lucky was he to have you by his side days like this he needed his best friend. 

You both knew how lucky you were to be going home together to be able to say those words to feel this moment. 

[charliegyrth]

I Really Want You to Like Me

A Gay Gainer Romance

When you walk into our dorm room freshman year, my first thought is: “Holy crap! My new roommate is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

You know how you look, so I don’t need to describe your tall, muscular body. Your perfect ass. Your wide shoulders and thin waist.

My second thought is: “I really hope you like me.”

Back in high school, I was the life of every party. The funny, fat guy. It was so easy for me to make friends, but since I started college, it’s been a little harder for me to meet people. Three weeks into the semester and I haven’t made a single connection.

And now here you are, my new roommate. And you’re so freaking cool. I just really want to make a good impression.

Unfortunately, I don’t. You just see me as a fat slob. You grimace at the fast-food trash on my side of the dorm. You glance down at the ketchup stain on my shirt. You act nice, and you force a smile, but I know right away that you don’t like me.

For the next few weeks, we barely see each other. You go out partying most nights and don’t really acknowledge me when you stumble into the room. You spend your free time playing football or basketball with your jock friends while I’m here playing video games.

You’re not rude or anything, but it’s obvious that we’re just different people.

We don’t have our first real conversation until we run into each other at some frat party. You’re drunk. I’m drunk. You compliment me on how much beer I can put away. And I say, “Back at ya.” For someone with such a flat stomach, it’s pretty impressive how much you can chug.

We sort of bond at the party, and when things start to die down, we walk home together.

I really want to keep our conversation going, so I offer to cook us some pasta to fight off the next morning’s hangover. It’s nothing special, just ramen that I jazz up with a bunch of butter and other ingredients.

You freaking love it.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a real cook, man?”

Because I’m not. You just like it because you’re drunk.

Whatever. We eat together and, for the first time, you ask about the video games that I’m always playing. You’ve never really played video games before. (Too busy playing sports.) I show you my collection of retro games from the 80s and 90s. Those are my favorite.

We try playing a few together, and you’re absolutely terrible. But it’s fun to watch. You’re having fun, too.

We really bond over this super-old game called BurgerTime, where we play as these little chefs that have to assemble burgers while running away from evil hot dogs. It’s really basic (just running across platforms), but I think that’s why you like it. You’re actually kind of good at this one.

We end up playing all night, making video game burgers and snacking on some of my potato chips. “Dude, this is great!” you say.

And it really is.

Things go back to normal after that. You go back to hanging out with your jock friends. You don’t avoid me as much as before, but I still don’t see you a lot.

Then Saturday rolls around, and you join me on the couch. “Rematch?” you ask. You were supposed to meet your friends for a basketball game, but you decide to spend time with me instead.

I’m so flattered that I keep letting you win. And I keep bringing out more of my snacks just to make you happy. When you’re gaming, you don’t notice how much you can put away. I’m impressed.

Hours later, you beat my high score and we’ve eaten literally everything in the dorm.

You turn to me smiling. “You’re a bad influence, man.”

That’s the moment I know that you finally like me.

That evening, I go to the supermarket to restock on snacks. I mostly get stuff that you prefer (salt and vinegar potato chips and anything with dark chocolate). I spend a little too much (okay, a lot too much), but I just really want to keep hanging out with you.

And it works. Throughout the rest of the semester, you spend more time with me and less time with your jock friends. Pretty soon, the messiness from my side of the dorm has spread to your side, too. It doesn’t take long for you to start snacking as much as I do. And sometimes, you stay in playing games even when I’m not home.

Then one day, you trudge into the dorm looking really upset. You were just playing basketball with your old buddies, and you didn’t have fun. You’ve lost some of your skill and the guys full-on insulted you.

I’m not surprised. I can see how your body is chunking out a little. Your thin waist isn’t so thin anymore, and your chest looks softer. But the big difference is in how you move. You used to move like an athlete with constant energy. Now, you’re getting kind of sluggish. Like me.

For a second, I get worried that you’re going to stop hanging out with me. That you’ll go back to the gym and force yourself to get back into shape.

Instead, you say, “Screw ’em. If they’re gonna be dicks, I don’t wanna play with them anymore.” Then you plop onto the couch and turn on BurgerTime.

You’ve made your choice, and I’m so freaking happy.

After that, we snack and game every day. We go to parties sometimes, too. Always together. (As friends, of course.)

By the end of that month, you’ve outgrown all your pants. They were always a little tight on you (to accentuate your ass, I’m assuming), but now you can’t pull them past your thick thighs.

“Dude!” you call from the living room, sounding frustrated.

I race in to find you standing in the middle of the room. You have a loose shirt on, but your pants are crumpled on the floor. You have white underwear to cover your crotch, but even those are tight enough to make your leg fat bulge out from under the bottom edges. I’ve never seen your bare thighs before, and I’m shocked by how shapeless they’ve already gotten. While your arms still have their muscular base, your legs look much softer.

No cellulite yet, though.

You look up at me with desperation in your blue eyes. “I can’t go to class without pants.” I know you’re asking me to loan you my clothes, but you’re too embarrassed to say it.

“Well, I definitely have some pants that I’m way too fat for. They should fit you just fine.” I run back into my room and pull out three shorts and two pairs of jeans. They’re not too small for me, of course. That was a lie to make you feel better. (Why would someone bring clothes to college that they can’t wear?)

I hand them to you, and you look so freaking grateful. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. I’ll give them back once I…”

“Keep ’em. I’ll never fit in those again.” (Another lie. In fact, the jeans you’re pulling on right now are actually a little baggy on me, though they fit you surprisingly well.)

It’s crazy that I’m so much bigger than you, and yet your hips are already as wide as mine. The miracle of fat distribution, I guess.

You spin around to model the new pants. “These look okay? I don’t look too chubby?”

You're a bit past chubby now, but I don’t say that. Instead, I assure you, “Everyone gains a bit in college. But trust me, you’ll never get as big as me.” That’s probably the truth.

You seem reassured. You strut out of the room with confidence.

The next week is finals. We stop gaming to focus all our time on studying. The snacking doesn’t stop. At first, I thought I was a bad influence on you. But I realize that you’re actually eating more potato chips and cookies than me, and I’m the one trying to keep up.

We both ace our classes. On our last night before Christmas break, we celebrate at the buffet just off campus. I absolutely stuff myself (as always), but you outdo me by at least a plate and a half. I have never been out-eaten at a buffet before. It’s impressive. (And honestly, I’m a little jealous.)

We both go back home for the holidays. We text each other a lot. You even video-call me so I can meet your parents. They seem super-nice.

My parents are a little upset with me. I’ve been fat all my life, so that’s not a big deal to them. But the amount I’d gained in one semester of college has freaked them out a little. I didn’t even realize I was fatter! I was too focused on your growing belly and hips. And I know that it’s because of you, because it’s so much fun to eat snacks together. I started as the bad influence, but you’ve taken over the role.

I don’t really overdo it over the holidays. I refrain from my mom’s cookies and stop myself from going back for seconds. I don’t lose any weight over the vacation, but I don’t gain anything either.

When I get back to campus, I realize that your vacation was a bit different. Your ass has definitely grown. And the fat has finally reached your face. You’re actually getting a double chin now. You’re still in much better shape than me, but I’m not sure how long that’ll last.

“How was your holiday?” you ask. You sound so excited to see me.

“Great. And yours?”

“So much fun,” you say. Then you tell me about all the food you ate. It’s like you’re bragging. You don’t mention sports at all.

Then you do something that surprises me. You wrap me in a hug, making me feel your belly against mine, and you say, “I really missed you, man.”

This isn’t a friendly hug. It’s something more.

I look into your eyes. I don’t want to read too much into this. But the way you’re looking at me… I know that I’m not. I know that you want me.

So I kiss you.

And I feel your new body, squeezing into the fat on your sides.

You feel me, too. We’re exploring each other’s bodies, giving in to the sexual tension that had been building all semester. And when you take me to your bed, when you strip off your new shirt, I can see that you’re even fatter than I realized.

You're on top of you, letting me play with your soft pecs, feeling me stiffen under you, and I ask you, “Are you trying to get fat?”

There’s no shame or embarrassment on your face as you look me right in the eyes and say, “Yes.”

“Why?”

You sigh. “I like you, man. I like spending time with you so much more than my old friends. And I just… I don’t know. I wanted to catch up. I wanted you to like me.”

I can’t believe it. I thought you were gaining because I was rubbing off on you. I didn’t realize that this was a conscious choice, that you chose to get fat because of me.

I jiggle your chest. “And you like… being like this?”

“No,” you say. Then you grab my moobs (so much bigger and softer than yours) and say, “Like I told you, I want to catch up.”

This is the first time we have sex. You’re incredible. You know exactly how to touch me, guide me, control me. You’re so strong. And so heavy. You make me feel your heft.

And now, three years later, so much has changed. We’re engaged now. We live in an apartment off-campus. We’re weeks away from graduating.

And you’ve gotten so, so much bigger than me.

I’m still obese, though significantly smaller than I was freshman year. This wasn’t a conscious choice. It just happened over the years, as I focused more of my attention on keeping you fed. It’s a little weird to be the smaller guy in the relationship, even if no one would ever call me small.

But you… My God. You’ve grown into such a beautiful, massive ball of flab. The first two years of your gains were very leg- and ass-centric. You were always meant to be much more pear-shaped than me, and I loved seeing your thighs stretch and dimple, your ass expand and droop.

But this last year, your belly has more than caught up. It’s so much bigger than mine ever was. Saggier, too.

When people see the two of us side-by-side, they’d probably assume I was the ex-jock instead of you. My fat looks so much more solid than yours. I think that’s pretty hot.

Right now, you’re sprawled on the couch, playing some NBA game with three potato chip bags next to your wide ass. (Two of the bags are already empty.) You look up, surprised that I’m home so early.

“Wanna play?” you ask.

I smile. “You’re such a bad influence.”

I join you, of course, and wait for you to finish your game. You’ve gotten so much better at video games than me. I’m not jealous, of course. I find it very cute.

I kiss your sweaty cheek and squeeze one of your stomach rolls.

“Don’t distract me,” you say. You’re so close to beating this level.

“Okay,” I say.

And as you finish your game, I feed you the rest of the potato chips.

The End.

Thanks for reading! I wrote this in response to my first ever story request! It's from Anonymous, but that's okay.

If anyone else would like to request something, please hit me up. I'd love to hear from anyone. Whether it's about a scenario, a setting, or even a body type that you'd like to read about... Whatever you want.

(But remember: I don't really do revenge-fattening or instant weight gain.)

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 6: On the Mend

single mom!sevika x reader

word count: 6.3k

contains: angst-ish, tension, language, food mention, vi (iykyk), some fluff!

description: school is back in session and after learning of some good news, you and sevika must learn to chart unfamiliar waters.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Monday morning, your eyes spring open before your alarm can even do its job, and you waste no time getting ready. Putting more effort than usual into your look today, you try at least four different outfits before deciding on one that’s a perfect balance between eye catching and comfortable.

Loading your things into your car, you put on your feel good playlist for your drive to work, determined to have a great day. Once there, your nerves start to creep in, but you do your best to settle them and remember that there’s no stakes involved with your announcement later. Sort of.

As usual, Ekko is the first one to arrive to class and he walks right up to your desk sporting a huge grin.

“Who has two thumbs and is going to the next round of the science fair?”

Pointing to himself, you match his smile and round your desk, hugging the boy.

“So proud of you dude, you have no idea how happy I was when I read your name in the email.”

Ekko had submitted this same project the previous two years but failed to make it past the first round each time. You had suggested doing something different this year but he stuck to his gut and it paid off.

“Thanks Teach, I couldn't have done it without your support, though.”

Letting him go, you place your hand on his shoulders and shake your head.

“That’s all you kid, from the idea to the execution. I was just a sounding board.”

Smiling, you walk up to the whiteboard and start writing the topic for today’s lesson, conversing with Ekko about what he did over his break. A few minutes later, the conversation ends when students start filing in and he turns around to walk to his desk, you doing the same. Pausing when you remember something, you spin around and call out to the boy.

“Hey! Um, Powder doesn’t know that she got in yet, so if she asks you about it, just say I haven’t said anything, cool?”

“Wait, she passed too?”

Nodding, you see his eyes light up as he fights back a smile and you quirk a brow. Interesting.

“Yeah, I forgot to email her mom when I told your parents,” you lied.

“Cool. I won’t say anything then.”

Schooling his face back into a neutral expression, Ekko continues his journey to his workstation and you face the whiteboard once again. You thought he would have been annoyed at best that Powder was also accepted, his lab partner being his competition for such a prestigious prize seems like it would be a nightmare.

Starting to think about it, the two have had tension between them since they met, but you honestly thought it was because they just didn’t get along. Smiling to yourself, you think, could there be a little crush there?

A couple more kids arriving brings your attention back to what you were doing, and you quickly finish writing what you had to on the board. Eventually, most of the class is in their seats, and when you glance up from your computer, you see Powder walking up to you.

“Hi Teach,” she says, unusually shy.

Smiling at the girl, you realize that you know nothing about what her last couple weeks have been like and it tugs at your heart.

“Hi Powder, how was your break?”

Beaming, Powder starts relaying everything she did, the girl’s animated storytelling making you laugh several times. She sees how your expression slightly changes every time Sevika is mentioned, and it almost makes her frown.

“So, I brought you a little something back. Or a couple somethings, actually.”

Reaching into her bag, she pulls out three keychains and raises them in your direction. You instantly pout, not expecting the gesture at all.

“Powder, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Taking them in your hands, you look at each one in detail, loving them instantly.

“I wanted to though, these last few months would’ve been a lot harder without you.”

Looking up, you see the vulnerable look on the girl’s face and it almost brings a tear to your eye.

“Plus they were too cute to pass up, look at the dolphin one.”

To prove her point, she flicks one of the keychains, causing it to spin in circles. Setting them all down on your desk, you walk to stand in front of her, engulfing her in an embrace.

“This was so nice of you Powder, thank you. It means more than you know.”

She returns the hug, giving you a quick squeeze. No matter what her sister said, she believed you were a good person, and conversations like this only proved that.

“You’re my favorite teacher, I had to.”

Pulling apart, you thank her again and Powder begins heading to her seat. You catch Ekko’s eye, nodding your head to remind him of what you said earlier. Once everyone else arrives and the bell rings, you get their attention and begin the day’s lesson.

Soon enough, the end of the day rolls around and Sevika will be arriving shortly for your impromptu meeting. You’ve somehow managed to not think about it since the morning but as the clock ticks by, your nerves return. Busying yourself with organizing your classroom as if it’s something she’ll care about, you flit about from corner to corner, tidying up.

You hear footsteps in the hallway and almost sprint to the front of the room, cleaning off the board in an attempt to look casual when your visitors walk in. Hearing a knock from the doorway, you slowly turn around, instantly making eye contact with the woman who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

Neither of you say anything for a moment as you observe each other, and your stomach does a little flip when you see Sevika look you up and down. All that time picking out my outfit was worth it, then. You notice that her skin is a bit darker than the last time you saw her, and you mentally thank the beach Powder was telling you about this morning. She’s wearing a boxy work jacket you’ve never seen before over her signature plain white tee and dark jeans and though it’s simple, it brings a tingle to the back of your neck. She looks good.

“Hey Teach.”

Powder is absolutely beaming when you look over at her, recognizing her presence as well. Knowing you’ve been caught, you clear your throat and straighten up your posture, welcoming them in.

“Hi Powder. Sevika. Please, come sit down.”

The two of them move into the room and you allow yourself to stare at Sevika’s profile while you can, taking in every detail. It gives you deja vu, but there couldn’t be a bigger difference in your situation from then to now. Once they take their seats, you walk over to them, leaving a healthy distance between you.

“So, I received an email from the science fair committee last night regarding their decision. And I know I said that I would let you know as soon as I heard anything, but this felt important enough that I had to give you the results in person.”

A sharp inhale catches your attention and your gaze shifts to Powder, looking like she’s about to faint.

“Oh jeez.”

Sevika glances from Powder to you, an expectant look on her face. She didn’t show it, but she was actually nervous, and your tone wasn’t helping.

“What did they say?”

Taking a deep breath, a smile spreads onto your face as you tell them the news.

“Congratulations Powder, you made it to the next round.”

Jumping up, the girl immediately runs over to you, shoving her face into your chest as she wraps her arms around you, eyes welling with tears.

“Really?!”

At the same time, Sevika leans back in her chair as she brings both hands to her face, letting out the breath she was holding. Once you and Powder separate, she stands up, speed walks over to the two of you, and picks her daughter up, spinning her around.

Before you can blink, Sevika puts her down and embraces you next, catching you off guard. Immediately melting into her, you hug her back, feeling the muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while her cologne fills your nose. You vaguely hear a sigh, and you’re unsure of who it comes from.

Once Sevika realizes what she’s done, she straightens up and lets her arms fall away. Clearing her throat as she takes a step back and runs a hand through her hair, the tension hangs between you.

“Um, wow, this is amazing news.”

Nodding, you take a breath to try and clear your head of the Sevika induced brain fog. Itching to reach back out for her, you settle your hands on your hips in an attempt to keep them occupied.

“Absolutely, it’s well deserved too, her presentation was amazing.”

You then begin discussing what will likely come next, hearing from other teacher friends of yours who have been through the process before. The entire time, Powder’s eyes are bouncing back and forth between the two of you, a smirk plastered on her face. She knew Sevika still had a thing for you, and you clearly returned the feeling.

“And I’ll email all of this to you too, it’s best to have it in writing.”

Looking at Sevika, you try your best to keep a neutral expression as you talk, but a smile is fighting its way out the entire time.

“Like before, Powder will have to start staying after school again to work on this, and even though she’s up against less kids than before, attention to detail is going to be incredibly important and what’ll make her stand out from the rest.”

Nodding along, Sevika is absorbing everything you’re saying and reality starts settling in. The two of you will be back in constant communication, and as much as she thought she’d be upset about it, she actually feels a bit…happy. Yes, she had sprouted a little crush on you, but more importantly, you had begun a friendship, and she missed that more than anything. She decides that that’s a problem for later, and by the time you wrap up the meeting, her discomfort has subsided and she actually smiles.

You end your spiel with a nod and a smile, confident that Powder has what it takes to get to the next level.

“Take tonight, celebrate, and tomorrow, we’ll talk about when to start up again.”

“Sounds good.”

Sevika moves to give you a handshake, debating if she should say what else is on her mind. Not seeing any reason not to, she continues.

“And thank you for everything you’ve done for Powder, it means more than you know.”

Shaking your head, you tell her it’s not a big deal and Powder gives you another quick hug, waving as the two of them begin making their way toward the exit. Sevika then turns around, giving you a quick smile before she disappears through the doorway. You can tell it’s genuine, and a feeling of joy bubbles up in your chest.

Arriving home, Powder sprints out of the car to tell her sisters the news, leaving Sevika alone to take a breather. It was so nice seeing you in person again, even if she wouldn’t admit it to anyone.

She missed the way you brightened up a room with your positivity, always making her feel comfortable. It was so easy to talk to you, she never felt like she had to force anything, and though she had other friendships, it was different with you. Shaking her head, she gets out and walks in the house, thinking about what to cook for dinner.

By this time, Powder is already relaying what happened to the other girls, bouncing with excitement. They immediately congratulate her, Vi giving her a noogie, causing Powder to chase her around the house until Sevika walks in and Vi takes refuge behind her.

“Mom, Vi keeps messing with me!” Powder whines as Vi sticks her tongue out from behind the woman.

Taking no time to assess the situation, Sevika groans and pushes the two girls apart.

“Come on guys, we just got home.”

The two teenagers start bickering when Sevika claps her hands once, the noise silencing the room.

“Enough. We just got some great news, you guys should be happy.”

Caitlyn and Isha only look at each other, containing their laughs as the two get scolded.

“Anyways, I was thinking, you guys feel like going out to dinner tonight? We should celebrate.”

All the girls cheer at that, eating somewhere outside their home was a rare treat. Not that they had many meals that could top Sevika’s cooking, but it was always a fun experience. Looking towards Powder, Sevika asks her if she had any place in mind and her eyes light up immediately.

“Hibachi! I wanna see if I can catch more shrimp than last time.”

Of course, Sevika thinks. Leave it to her middle child to choose somewhere they play with your food and light it on fire.

“Okay then, give me a bit to shower and change and we’ll leave.”

Heading to her room, Sevika hears Powder and Isha grabbing snacks to practice for the restaurant, making sure to tell them not to fill up before dinner.

Once they arrive at the restaurant, Powder chooses the middle seat directly in front of where the chef will be, leaving everyone else to fill in around her. Sevika chooses to sit two seats down from her, putting Isha in the middle of them, and Vi and Caitlyn take their seats on the other side of Powder.

A little while later, almost all of the seats around the grill are filled and Powder can't wait for dinner to start. Her and Isha are going over strategy when she sees someone stop in their tracks behind Sevika and looks up, eyes widening.

“Teach!”

As soon as your meeting with Sevika and Powder ended, you were in a happier mood and it took you no time to pack up and grab your things.

You didn’t feel like staying home, though the weather outside was miserable, and texted your roommates if they were free to go to dinner with you. Two of them said yes, the other was at work and wouldn’t be home until later so she declined. Hearting all of the responses, you drove home and thought about where to go.

Once there, your roommates were almost ready to leave, and when you saw their outfits, you decided to upgrade your look into something a bit nicer than what you had on.

When you all finished, you piled into your car and put on a relaxing playlist for the drive. The three of you started talking about your days, and eventually the conversation landed on Sevika and the meeting. You confided in them how seeing her in person made you feel, and after they exchanged glances, they asked you what you planned to do moving forward.

At that question, you paused and thought of your answer carefully.

“I’m not sure, there was a little bit of a moment when she hugged me, but that could’ve just been excitement, and because she doesn’t want it to be awkward. The next deadline is in a month, so we’re gonna be around each other until then.”

You swear you could’ve heard a record scratch at the casual confession.

“Wait, back up. She hugged you? Like a full on ‘arms wrapped around you’ kind of hug?”

Sheepishly glancing at your friends, you nodded.

“Yeah, she was happy about the news, it’s understandable.”

“Right, I’m sure she goes around doing that to all her kids’ teachers.”

Exhaling harshly, you attempted to gather your thoughts.

“Honestly, I’m trying not to think about it too much cause I don’t wanna get excited over something that isn’t concrete.”

Your roommates nodded in understanding and one spoke up next.

“Well, we’re always here for you, no matter what happens.”

You looked at her through the rearview mirror and smiled in gratitude, they really did always have your back.

When you walked into the restaurant, your two roommates continued their conversation behind you as the host led you all to your table. As you made your way over, you saw a familiar silhouette sitting towards the corner of it and your stomach sank as your fear was confirmed.

So now here you are, standing in front of the woman you were just thinking about, eyes locked with a tension so palpable you can’t tear your gaze away. Her eyes look you up and down, even more intensely than earlier, and heat begins crawling up your back before spreading throughout your body.

Remembering you still haven’t responded to Powder, you snap out of it and say hello, looking at everyone else sitting with her. When Vi catches your eye, you see the scowl etched on her face and she looks away, ignoring you.

Isha leaps out of her seat to give you a hug, arms wrapping around your waist. You return the gesture and let her go as she signs that she’s happy to see you. Meanwhile, your roommates are behind you, watching this entire interaction with curiosity.

Standing back up, you glance around the table and see that the only empty seats are next to Sevika.

Just your luck that it would be fully packed on a Monday.

“Do you mind if we take these?”

Looking back at the woman, she quickly shakes her head as she extends her hand out towards them.

“No, of course not, go ahead.”

You, being the closest to her, take the seat right next to Sevika as your roommates sidle in beside you. Your heartbeat is thrumming by now, hyper aware of your movements and how close the two of you are.

Turning away from her, you see the looks on your roommates faces, slight frowns as they glance over at Sevika. Mouthing stop it, one of them rolls her eyes as the other looks at the menu in front of her. A waitress then comes by and quickly takes your orders before leaving you alone with your thoughts again.

Now you’re stuck. You’re not sure if it’s rude to ignore Sevika, while also feeling like you’re obligated to talk to her because you’re sitting next to each other. Rubbing your temples, you hope the chef comes out soon so you can have some sort of a distraction.

Your prayers are shortly answered when she arrives a minute later, immediately throwing food on the grill, causing Powder to cheer. You watch as her and Isha are enraptured by the flames, bringing a smile to your face. Those two may usually be shy kids, but seeing their personalities surface like this warms your heart.

Hearing your name, you turn around and see your roommates engrossed in a conversation, one of them catching your eye and leaning in towards you, whispering.

“That’s the oldest daughter? The one at the end?”

You try to recall the seating order from memory, not wanting to turn around and have someone catch you looking.

“The girl with the red hair, yeah, next to her is her girlfriend.”

Seeing her glance over, she looks up and down, assessing Vi, you assume.

“Hm. Okay.”

“Stop looking, I don’t need to give her another reason not to like me.”

Looking towards the chef, you watch her for a few seconds before your attention is brought back to your roommate.

“Hey, why don’t you just tell her what really happened? Clear the air and let her know that’s not the person you are.”

At her comment, you slowly shake your head, knowing Sevika wouldn’t go for that. Why would she believe you over her own daughter?

“I think it’s too late for that. She didn’t reach out the whole two week break, that says enough.”

Looking at Sevika from the corner of your eye, you see her staring at the fire with a blank expression, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

“Wait, didn’t you say you had copies of all the texts between Gert and the side bitch?”

Suddenly, old memories come flooding back. You had emailed yourself screenshots of Gert’s cheating when you were still deciding whether you should leave her. That was only meant for your eyes though, showing them to someone else who wasn’t involved didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know, that feels…wrong.”

Sighing, they look at you with exasperated looks on their faces before one of them speaks up.

“Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if you like this lady, you have a way to clear your name, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t keep letting your old shit get in the way of something new.”

Leaning back in her chair, she turns to watch the chef tossing shrimp to people at the table, ending the conversation. Sighing, you know she’s right, and you needed the tough love, it was just the idea of exposing how badly someone treated you that made you apprehensive.

You hear Powder’s voice next to you, turning your head and seeing her almost stand up from her chair to get the cook’s attention. Everyone cheers when she catches a piece, and you clap for her, setting your hands on the table when you brush something. Looking down, you see that Sevika also has her hand laid on the table and you freeze.

How had you not noticed it was so close to yours until now?

You were suddenly extremely aware of her, realizing the woman was sitting closer than you thought. Sevika must have noticed too, because her hand twitched and pulled away, moving to lay on her thigh instead.

Before you could react, the chef calls out and you look back toward her to see what she’s talking about. Holding a piece of shrimp on her spatula, she gestures towards Sevika, who sternly shakes her head, much to the disappointment of her daughters. Powder and Isha start jeering before she quiets them with a raise of an eyebrow, reminding them of where they’re at.

The chef then turns to you, and your eyes widen. Opening your mouth to tell her no, you hear a “Yeah, Teach!” to your left and see Powder smiling at you. Isha gives you two thumbs up and even your roommates start quietly cheering you on. With so much attention directed your way, you feel obligated to say yes so you look back towards the chef and nod.

Watching the shrimp fly through the air, you can tell you won’t catch it unless you move, so you lean back just a bit further in your seat, or so you think. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as your feet leave the ground and your chair starts tipping back, the feeling of falling settling in your stomach. Hearing gasps from around the table, you brace yourself for impact, praying your ego will recover from what’s about to happen.

Suddenly, your chair stops moving and you fly forward, all feet planted back on the ground. Glancing around, you then see Sevika’s arm wrapped around the back of your seat and a worried look on her face. Clearing your throat, you scratch the back of your neck and tear your gaze away from her, knowing your entire table, and maybe the whole restaurant, just witnessed you almost falling on your ass. Powder and Isha look shocked, and behind them, Vi has a smirk plastered on her face, clearly enjoying your misstep. You hear your friends asking if you’re okay, and after slightly nodding, you face Sevika to give her your gratitude, fighting through your embarrassment.

“Um, thanks. That could've been really bad.”

She only nods, looking at you with an understanding gleam in her eye.

“Don’t mention it, I’ve seen my fair share of falls with those three.”

She points her head in the girls’ direction, and you know she has stories. Holding back a smile, a vision of a tired Sevika protecting her rowdy girls springs to mind, and it’s adorable.

“Yeah, I bet they keep you on your toes.”

You look over at the girls, who are talking amongst themselves, no doubt about what just happened, and let out a small chuckle. It’s not hard to imagine them as little runts, constantly running Sevika ragged. Thinking about what an amazing parent she is, your gaze returns to the woman to see her already staring at you.

Her gaze catches you off guard, and she breaks eye contact right away, turning back towards the flame. Looking down towards your hands in your lap, you smile to yourself, starting to watch the chef again before hearing her voice cut through the noise of the restaurant.

“The girls missed you.”

Whipping your head towards her, you see that Sevika isn’t looking at you but straight ahead. You weren’t expecting her to strike up a conversation at this point in the night but you take advantage of the opening.

“I…missed them too.”

A sad smile adorns her face at that, and you get the urge to kiss it away. Thankfully, she speaks before you can embarrass yourself further.

“They didn’t stop talking about you our entire trip. Did Powder give you the keychains she bought?”

Slowly nodding, she turns her head towards you and lets her eyes flicker between yours, giving you the chance to do the same.

God, she’s beautiful.

“Good. She was really excited about them.”

The two of you make small talk from there, talking about the restaurant and the weather. After a few minutes, the conversation naturally ends and you no longer feel the awkward tension from earlier. You pick up your glass to take a sip when your attention is grabbed once again.

“So…when should Powder bring her project back to school? I get off early tomorrow so I can bring it with me when I pick her up.” She clears her throat, “If that’s okay with you.”

Looking over at her, you see the apprehension on her face and let yourself smile this time.

“Yeah, that works. You know where to park.”

The two of you get pulled into other conversations but the thought of seeing each other the next day carries you through the rest of the evening.

Eventually, dinner comes to an end and it’s time to go your separate ways, all of you standing up to leave.

Powder and Isha are the first ones to say goodbye, hugging you and telling you they missed you. Hearing them echo Sevika’s words from earlier warms your heart and has you squeezing them a little tighter. Sevika follows behind them, bidding you and your roommates good night with a tight lipped smile, and you return the gesture, albeit with a genuine one. Vi brings up the rear, dragging Caitlyn past you, but not before Caitlyn can sneakily wave at you behind her girlfriend’s back.

Not until they leave and you start your own journey to the exit do you realize that you failed to introduce everyone. Thinking about it, it probably wouldn’t have gone well so you decide it was for the best. Your roommates then pipe up behind you as you all reach the car.

“The girls were so cute saying bye to you, they seem really sweet.”

You beam as if they were your own, getting in and buckling up, checking all your mirrors.

“Yeah, they’re really good kids. Sevika’s doing a great job with them.”

The two of them exchange a knowing glance but say nothing. The drive home is filled with jokes and banter, and once you arrive, you see that your third roommate is in the living room on her laptop. Skipping hellos, your other two friends immediately start telling her about how the night went, not leaving out a single detail. When they get to the part where you almost fell and Sevika caught you, her mouth is agape and she starts laughing.

“Listen, I’m not her biggest fan but that was smooth, I’ll admit.”

They then tell her about how you two started talking later on, and they ask you what the conversation was about.

“Literally just the weather and how dinner was. And that she could bring Powder’s project back to school tomorrow.”

“So…that means you guys have to talk again?”

Biting your lip, you think thankfully.

“Well yeah, it’s the same schedule as before. Except now we have less time before the next deadline.”

Your roommate only nods at that, hearing the slight nerves in your voice, and you change the subject, afraid of getting your hopes up.

An hour later, you all decide to head to bed, tired from the day. Gliding through your bedtime routine as if on autopilot, you climb under the covers and wrap them tightly around yourself. That night, you dream of grey eyes and steady hands.

The next day passes by uneventfully, and after the final bell rings, Powder walks in, holding onto her backpack straps with a smile.

“Hey, Teach.”

You turn around and wave her in, clearing off your desk. Sevika had texted you a few minutes ago that she was on her way with Powder’s project so now the two of you are waiting for her, talking about a new movie that’s coming out soon. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check the screen, you see a text simply saying “Here”.

You both walk out to the parking lot, propping open the main door as you make your way over to the truck parked nearby. Sevika’s already grabbed the two biggest boxes, hauling them with no effort and the sight never fails to make you swoon.

“The smaller two are in the backseat, you guys can grab those.”

Breezing past you, you’re able to stop yourself from looking directly at her, but the little bit you catch in your peripheral has you smiling. Snapping out of it, you remind yourself that you’re only trying to be cordial with her, nothing else.

Picking up the remaining boxes, you and Powder quickly follow Sevika inside to your classroom, setting them down in the corner. Looking around, you try to decide between asking if Powder can start working on it now or letting her go home for the day.

Sevika watches you walk in with an indiscernible look on her face, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for your direction. As the boxes are set down, she takes her phone out of her pocket, looking at something and making the decision for you.

“I’ve gotta head back to the shop real quick, but I can leave Powder here if you guys want to get started.”

Shifting her gaze towards you then Powder, you tell her it’s fine and she puts her phone back into her pocket, kissing her daughter on the head as she heads towards the door. Turning around, she calls out to you.

“Be back in a bit!”

As soon as she’s out the door, Powder starts to work, taking out the supplies she needs before placing them on the table. Watching her for a moment, you decide to start some grading at your desk, turning on your computer and pulling up the stack of papers.

Time seems to blur as you’re distracted by the numbers and comments you’re putting on the tests. Glancing back up, you see that Powder is still working diligently. You’ve come to appreciate how good she is at staying focused.

A rough knock at the door breaks you out of your thoughts, your head whipping towards the sound. You call out to let the person come in, assuming it’s Sevika.

When the door opens, you’re surprised to see Vi standing in the doorway. Her eyes flick around the room, a curious expression on her face when she sees Powder working, but a scowl replacing it as her gaze lands on you.

“Sev got caught up with something else, so she sent me to pick up Powder.”

You murmur out a stern okay, watching Vi stroll over to her sister as she looks over her shoulder at the project.

“What is it?”

Powder looks up, eyeing the girl.

“If I explain, will you understand what I’m talking about?”

“No.”

“Then why would I?”

The interaction causes you to hold in a smile, careful not to let them see you. Powder is feisty when she wants to be.

After a couple minutes, Powder grabs her things and walks over to your desk, Vi a few steps behind her. She lets you know what she worked on today and you smile, telling her you’ll look it over and give her your notes tomorrow. Telling you goodbye as she walks out, Vi follows, giving you a once over but not saying anything.

A few minutes later, you’ve written down your notations for the project, sliding them into your desk. Letting out a sigh, you gather your belongings, shoving your laptop inside, deciding you’re also done for the day. You’re ready to go home, eat your leftovers, and numb your brain with as much reality television as it will let you.

That week, you and Powder get into the swing of things with no problem, back to how they were before break. The only thing that was missing was Sevika’s homemade cooking waiting for you when she picked Powder up, and you missed it more than you realized.

On the bright side, you and Sevika were back to talking on a regular basis, which you were ecstatic about, even if it was only about Powder’s schoolwork. Two weeks of no contact didn’t sound like much, but you had grown accustomed to hearing from her daily and you missed your conversations more than anything. It was hard to find real connections as an adult, and if friendship was all that was in the cards, then that was good enough for you.

The comment from your roommate about showing Sevika the texts replays in your head the next few days, and you decide to go along with her idea. More than once, you almost had a chance to bring it up to Sevika, but something always interrupted the moment. A couple times, it was a work call she had to take, but most of it was by way of Vi hanging in the background, always watching you.

She had decided to start accompanying Sevika to pick Powder up after school, surprising all of you. You learn that she doesn’t have to be back at school for another month, and with nothing else to busy herself with, she decides to become Sevika’s personal chaperone. Knowing the reason why, you can’t blame her but you still wished she’d leave the two of you alone long enough to let you rectify the situation.

Another week passes, and your frustration starts to build. Sevika is still keeping your discussions very surface level, and you feel less and less confident about explaining your side. Even Powder has started to notice that something is wrong. She’s a very perceptive kid and sees the way that your shoulders have slumped, interactions with Sevika more reserved from your side.

As she works on her project, you sit at your desk, pretending to look over some papers so you can watch the door. Today, your eyes are glued to the clock, the seconds ticking by like hours.

As if you summoned her, a familiar figure steps into the room. Sevika, dressed in her work coveralls, glances over at Powder before her eyes catch yours. Giving you a small nod, she smiles faintly but her eyes still hold that weary look you’ve grown used to.

As usual, Vi is right on her heels, walking over to lean against one of the desks, propping her hands on top and crossing one leg over the other. They both watch Powder start to pack up her things, the three of you waiting for her to finish.

“How’s she doing?”

Sevika glances over at you, expectant.

“Really good. We’ve tweaked a couple things so she’s in the process of testing the new model but I have high hopes.”

You smile softly at the woman, sincerity laced in your voice. She grins back and her gap makes an appearance, causing you to look down at her lips. Luckily, Powder starts walking over that very moment and grabs everyone’s attention, causing Sevika to speak up.

“Ready, kid?”

“Almost. There was something I wanted to show Vi in the gym.”

The teenager in question looks up from where she was texting on her phone with a puzzled look.

“What?”

Sevika’s gaze flicks between Powder and Vi, looking as if she’s about to protest. Her hand even reaches out, just a fraction, but Vi is already putting her phone away and standing up as she groans.

“Fine, make it quick though, I got things to do.”

“What, like your girlfriend?”

Powder whispers that part, but in the quiet room, it reaches everyone’s ears. Seeing the angry look on Vi’s face, she sprints out of the room and down the hallway, her sister following close behind. Sevika can only sigh, closing her eyes as she rubs her forehead.

“Those girls are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You stifle a snicker, taking the opportunity to fully stare at Sevika. Her uniform is old, covered in stains and the occasional frayed tear. It’s slightly unbuttoned at the top, leaving her throat and the middle of her collarbones exposed. The hand on her face is smeared with oil, and you think this might be your new favorite look of hers.

She shifts to stand up, and you realize the two of you are alone for the first time in weeks. A weight settles in your chest as you register that this is the chance you’ve been waiting for.

“Hey, can we talk?”

taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther

[the-oblivious-writer]

With Her Die |8|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Eight: Mind Over Matter

warnings: mental health struggles (anxiety, depression, medication references), parental abandonment/rejection, references to death, more of shauna and reader's unhealthy codependency, suicidal ideation undertones, and cult-like/supernatural elements.

note(s): i still can't believe i've been confusing h and s for each other, smh.

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

The fever comes on suddenly, like most things in the wilderness. One moment you're helping to stack firewood outside the cabin, the next your vision blurs and the world tilts sideways. You don't remember hitting the ground, just the confused chorus of voices above you and the sensation of being carried.

"She's burning up," someone says. Shauna, you think. Her voice always carries that edge of controlled panic when it comes to you.

Cool hands press against your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. The world fades in and out, dreamlike and disjointed.

"Could be anything out here," Misty's clinical tone cuts through the fog. "Infection, some kind of parasite, plant toxin..."

"Just help her," Shauna snaps, and you feel her fingers tighten around yours.

You try to respond, to reassure her that you're fine, but your tongue feels swollen, your thoughts scattered like leaves in a windstorm. The ceiling of the cabin swims above you, wooden beams blending and separating in nauseating patterns.

"We need to keep her temperature down," Tai's voice, practical and measured.

Someone drapes something cool and damp across your forehead. You close your eyes against the spinning room and slip into darkness.

"I can't do this anymore."

Your mother's voice filters through the thin wall of your bedroom. You're thirteen, curled up on your bed with headphones on, but not playing any music. You've learned it's easier to hear them this way – they think you can't, so they speak freely.

"She's just going through a phase." Your father sounds tired, defeated before the argument's even begun.

"A phase? She's been like this for years. The anxiety, the mood swings, the constant need for reassurance. I can't breathe in my own house without worrying about how she'll interpret it."

You pull your knees tighter to your chest, trying to make yourself smaller, less substantial. Less of a burden.

"The medication should start working soon—"

"It's been three months. Three different prescriptions. Nothing changes."

There's a long silence, and you hold your breath, straining to hear.

"What exactly are you saying?" Your father's voice has gone quiet, dangerous.

"I'm saying I need a break. I'm saying she's your problem now."

The words land like physical blows. Your problem. Your problem. Your problem.

"She's not a problem. She's our daughter."

"Then why does it feel like I'm drowning every time I look at her?"

You wake with a gasp, sweat-soaked and disoriented. Shauna's face swims into view above you, her eyes wide with concern.

"Hey, hey," she soothes, brushing damp hair from your forehead. "You're okay. You're with me."

"My mom," you mumble, the words feeling strange and disconnected from your mouth.

Shauna's brow furrows. "What about her?"

But you're already slipping away again, the cabin dissolving around you like sugar in rain.

The fever dreams come in waves, memories and nightmares blending together until you can't tell what's real and what isn't. Sometimes you surface long enough to register snippets of reality – Misty changing the cloth on your forehead, Tai arguing with someone in the corner, Van bringing in fresh water.

Shauna remains a constant, her presence anchoring you when you drift too far. You catch glimpses of her – sleeping awkwardly in a chair beside your makeshift bed, her hand never leaving yours; arguing fiercely with someone while gesturing toward you; her pregnant belly a curved shield between you and the rest of the world.

In your more lucid moments, you notice the strain on her face, the dark circles under her eyes. You try to tell her to rest, that you'll be fine, but the words come out jumbled and strange.

"I'm not going anywhere," she always answers, as if she can understand you perfectly.

The fever spikes on the third night, and the hallucinations intensify.

You're standing in the clearing outside the cabin, snow falling gently around you. Jackie stands a few feet away, her blonde hair untouched by the frost that covers her eyelashes and lips.

"Why won't you join me?" she asks, her breath not fogging in the cold air. "Don't you love me anymore?"

"I can't," you try to explain, but your voice sounds wrong, distant.

"Everyone leaves eventually," Jackie says with a sad smile. "Even Shauna will. She'll choose the baby over you. You know that, right?"

You shake your head, tears freezing on your cheeks. "She wouldn't."

"Just like your mom chose herself over you?" Jackie's eyes are sympathetic but unrelenting. "It's what people do. They leave."

"Not her," you insist, but uncertainty creeps in like frost, numbing your certainty.

"Look," Jackie points behind you.

You turn to see Shauna walking away, her back to you, getting smaller with each step.

"Shauna!" you call, but no sound comes out. "Shauna, wait!"

You try to run after her, but your feet are rooted to the ground. One by one, the others appear, walking past you to follow Shauna – Tai, Van, Akilah, Misty, Travis, Javi, Nat. None of them look at you. None of them stop.

"Everyone leaves," Jackie repeats, suddenly beside you. Her cold hand slips into yours. "But I'll stay. I'll always stay."

"—not letting you near her!" Shauna's voice cuts through the nightmare, sharp and defensive.

"She's getting worse," another voice argues – Lottie. "I can help."

"Like you helped Jackie?" Shauna's tone is venomous. "No fucking way."

"That was different. The wilderness wanted Jackie."

"And what does it want from her? Another sacrifice?"

You force your eyes open, the effort monumental. The cabin comes into blurry focus – Shauna standing at the foot of your bed, her body positioned protectively between you and Lottie, who hovers near the door with what looks like a bundle of herbs in her hands.

"I've seen this in my dreams," Lottie says, her voice taking on that distant quality that makes everyone uneasy. "The sickness is more than physical. It's in her mind, in her heart."

"Get out," Shauna hisses.

"Ask her about the pills that never worked," Lottie continues, undeterred. "Ask her about her mother walking away. Ask her why she sees Jackie everywhere."

The room goes silent. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with your fever.

"What did you say?" Shauna's voice has dropped dangerously low.

Lottie's eyes drift to you, and you realize with a start that she knows you're awake. "The wilderness shows me things. Her past. Her fears." She takes a step forward. "She's afraid you'll leave too. Just like everyone else."

Shauna moves so quickly you barely register it – one moment she's at the foot of the bed, the next she's got Lottie pinned against the wall, forearm pressed to her throat.

"Get. Out." Each word is punctuated with barely controlled rage. "If you come near her again, I swear to god, Lottie—"

"What's going on?" Tai appears in the doorway, taking in the scene with a quick, assessing gaze.

"Get her out of here," Shauna demands, not releasing Lottie.

Tai steps forward, placing a calm hand on Shauna's shoulder. "Let her go. She's not worth it."

For a moment, you think Shauna might refuse. Then, slowly, she lowers her arm. Lottie doesn't cower or retreat; she simply looks at Shauna with something like pity.

"She needs more than you can give her," Lottie says quietly. "The wilderness knows what she needs."

"Lottie, enough," Tai interrupts, stepping between them. "Leave. Now."

With one last meaningful look at you, Lottie places the bundle of herbs on a nearby table and exits. The tension in the room lingers like smoke.

Tai turns to Shauna, voice low. "You need to get some sleep. You're not helping her by running yourself into the ground."

"I'm fine," Shauna insists, but even from your fevered state, you can see she's swaying slightly on her feet.

"Shauna," Tai's voice gentles. "The baby. Think about the baby."

Something in Shauna seems to crumple at that. She glances back at you, conflict written across her features.

"I'll stay with her," Tai promises. "If anything changes, I'll get you immediately."

After a long moment, Shauna nods. She moves to your side, leaning down to press her lips to your forehead. "I'll be right in the next room," she whispers, as if she knows you're listening. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

You want to reach for her, to tell her you heard everything, but your body feels impossibly heavy. You manage only to brush your fingers against hers before she pulls away.

As Shauna leaves reluctantly, Tai settles into the chair beside you. You let your eyes close again, exhaustion pulling you under.

"These should help with the mood swings and anxiety," Dr. Winters says, scribbling on a prescription pad. "But I want to see you back in three weeks to assess how they're working."

You stare at the white paper she hands you, not really seeing it. This is the third medication she's prescribed in as many months. The first made you feel like a zombie, moving through the world wrapped in cotton. The second gave you headaches so intense you couldn't get out of bed.

"What if these don't work either?" you ask, hating how small your voice sounds.

Dr. Winters offers a professional smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Let's stay positive. Finding the right medication can take time."

Time. Everyone keeps telling you to give it time. But how much time do you have before your mother decides you're too much work, too much trouble? Before the strain you're putting on your parents' marriage snaps it completely?

"I think we're also going to increase your therapy sessions to twice a week," Dr. Winters continues, already making notes in your file. "How does that sound?"

Like another burden. Another expense. Another reason for your mother to look at you with that mixture of disappointment and resentment.

"Fine," you say, because what else can you say?

Dr. Winters pats your knee in what's meant to be a comforting gesture. "You're doing great. These things don't fix themselves overnight."

But some things never fix themselves at all.

The fourth day of fever brings a kind of clarity, albeit a distorted one. You drift in and out of consciousness, but the hallucinations take on a different quality – less nightmarish, more contemplative. You see your mother walking away, but this time, you don't try to follow. You see Jackie standing at the edge of the forest, but you don't reach for her.

Instead, you watch as Shauna moves around the cabin, tending to you with a singular focus that borders on obsession. Even in your fever-addled state, you can see how the others look at her – with concern, with wariness.

"You need to eat something," Nat says during one of her visits, placing a hand on Shauna's shoulder.

"Later," Shauna dismisses, not looking up from where she's wringing out a cloth in a basin of water.

"The baby—"

"Is fine." Shauna's tone makes it clear the subject is closed.

Nat exchanges a glance with Tai, who shrugs helplessly from her position near the window.

"This isn't healthy, Shauna," Nat tries again. "For either of you."

Shauna finally looks up, her eyes hard. "None of this is healthy, Nat. None of it. But it's what we have."

There's something in her voice – a razor's edge of desperation – that makes Nat back down. She sighs, placing a small bundle wrapped in leaves next to the bed.

"Travis caught a rabbit. Make sure she gets some broth at least."

After Nat leaves, Shauna sits beside you, her hand finding yours as it always does. You manage to squeeze her fingers weakly, and her entire face transforms with relief.

"Hey," she says softly, leaning closer. "You with me?"

"Always," you rasp, your throat raw from disuse.

A small, genuine smile breaks across her face. "There you are." She brings your hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "You had me worried."

"Heard Lottie," you manage, each word an effort. "What she said."

Shauna's expression darkens. "Lottie doesn't know shit."

"She knew about my mom. The medication."

Shauna goes still, her eyes searching yours. "Was she right? About your mom leaving?"

You nod weakly, not trusting your voice.

Something fierce and protective crosses Shauna's face. She leans forward, her forehead resting against yours despite the sweat and fever. "I won't leave," she whispers fiercely. "Not ever. Do you understand me? Not ever."

The conviction in her voice pierces through the fever fog, anchoring you to this moment, to her. You believe her, not because it's rational or because promises mean anything in this place of death and survival, but because Shauna has remade herself around your existence just as you have remade yourself around hers.

"The baby," you whisper, echoing everyone else's concern.

"Is part of us," Shauna replies without hesitation. "Not separate. Part of us."

The certainty in her voice should be comforting, but something in you recognizes the dangerous edge to it. This isn't healthy – this fusion of identities, this consuming need. But in the wilderness, health is a luxury none of you can afford.

"Rest," Shauna urges, stroking your hair back from your forehead. "I'll be right here."

As you drift off again, you think about Lottie's words – that the wilderness knows what you need. Perhaps it does. Perhaps this fever is a kind of burning away, stripping you down to what matters.

Or perhaps it's just another way the wilderness is trying to claim you, the way it claimed Jackie.

[captain-silkmaster]

Only Good Girls Get to Come

Night had already set in by the time you glided your car into your driveway. As you shifted into park and watched your garage door close in your rearview mirror, you sighed heavily. The day had been long. Full of meetings that could have been emails and spreadsheets that should have been meetings. Typical.

You grabbed your bag, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut with a bit too much force. It felt good. You threw your heels off. Letting them land wherever they felt like. You were too tired to care. 

Opening the door to your home, you groaned when you saw the stairs. Somehow, on the days you were the most annoyed, you always seemed to forget there were stairs. It was only one flight though. Then, you could fall onto the couch.

As you slowly ascended the stairs, each step heavier than the last, you heard something. It sounded like a bag rustling. Then, glass clinking. 

You froze.  

Then, you slowly removed the pepper spray from your bag. Adjusting it just right in your hand as you continued to move up the steps. There was a light coming from your kitchen. Was a burglar eating your food?

Your shoulders relaxed when you heard a familiar, British accented voice say your name, followed by, “You got any dijon?”

Dropping the pepper spray back into your bag, you groaned as you cleared the last few steps and into the living room of your home. You could see Captain John Price rummaging through your fridge, squatted down low, looking through condiments. 

“Yeah, at the bottom. To the left.” You said as you tossed your bag on the floor next to the couch.

He hummed in acknowledgement when he found the mustard, and stood up. He gently closed the fridge and made his way to the counter while you walked over to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen, taking a seat. Watching him with an unamused look. 

“What the hell are you doing here, John?” You asked as you slumped down on the cool granite.

He scoffed as he took a piece of bread off the top of an already made sandwich, “I told you, I’m crashin’ here this weekend. I sent you a text.”

You thought back to your day as he grabbed a knife and spread out the condiment on the soft bread. You remembered now. He had messaged you that morning saying he would be in town. This wasn’t an unusual event. You two had known each other for several years. He had a key. Something you gave him when he complained about the cost of hotels. Your guest room was hardly ever used, so why not lend it out to him a few times a year when he needed it.

You sighed and rubbed your hand down face, “Oh sorry, I forgot. Long day.”

He finished assembling his sandwich, put the mustard back, and was rinsing off the knife when he asked, “Ain’t that merger still, is it?”

You nodded as you placed your chin in your hand, “Yep. Should be finalized by next week.”

He grabbed the sandwich, now cut in half, and around a mouth full asked, “Want some?”

You stared at the food and nodded silently. He handed one half over to you and you both ate in a comfortable silence. He finished his in a few large bites while you were still half way through yours. Too tired to devour it.

“You look like you need a coma.” John said with a low chuckle.

Between bites, and without much thought, you said, “I need to get laid.”

John laughed, “Yeah? Is that so?”

You groaned, “Sorry, it’s been a long week. Fuck, it’s been a long month. A long year.” You finished the last bite of your sandwich and added, “It’s not your problem. Forget I said anything.”

“I can make it my problem.” he said in a low voice, with something more dancing underneath it.  

You gazed over at him, raising your brow as you took in his mischievous smile. For the first time all day, a smile broke out on your lips. Growing bigger by the second.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, your tone playful. Your eyes finally roamed his body. He had showered already, his hair still damp and combed out of his face. His beard wasn't trimmed, but it was clean. He wore a plain white shirt that hugged his shoulders in the most tantalizing way. The counter blocked most of the view, but a pair of grey sweatpants clung to his hips. 

Your eyes met his again and his smile turned devious, “Like what ya see?”

An even larger smile spread across your lips as a laugh came out, loud and full. You tried to gain your composure as John added, his tone playful, “Oh, is my offer of fuckin’ you senseless, funny to you?”

You leaned back on the stool and crossed your arms, “Maybe. I don’t really see you as the ‘fucking women senseless type’, old man.” 

He didn’t move right away. Only watched you, arms crossed, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was deciding how much trouble you deserved. Then, he stepped around the counter, slow and deliberate. His bare feet were quiet against the tile, but somehow he made the whole room feel smaller.

“That so?” he asked, voice low and gravelly. “You think I’m all talk?”

You opened your mouth, to keep teasing and to challenge him again. Except then, he was in front of you, close enough to steal the breath from your lungs. One hand found the back of your stool, the other tilted your chin up until you had no choice but to meet that dark, glinting gaze.

“S’funny,” he murmured, mouth brushing yours, “because you’re about to be beggin’ that same old man not to stop.”

You didn’t get the chance to answer. His lips found yours in a kiss that started slow, and deepened fast. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you in tighter, controlling the angle like he needed you to feel how serious he was.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless. He looked entirely unbothered, smirking, relaxed, cocky in a way that had your thighs clenching.

“Let’s see if you’re still laughin’,” he said, voice like a promise, “when I’ve got you cryin’ on my cock.”

Your grin widened, but your breath hitched just a little. He saw it, and that smug, knowing look spread across his face like fire catching dry brush. He leaned in and said, low and rough, “You gonna sit there all night actin’ brave, or are you gonna stand up and let me ruin that attitude?”

You cocked your head, lips twitching. “Might need some convincing.”

That was the last straw.

Without a word, he gripped your thighs and pulled fast enough to catch you off guard. His grip was firm enough to draw a sharp yelp from your lips. You barely had time to blink before he had you off the stool and up and over his shoulder. One arm over your hips and holding you like it was nothing.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, starting down the hallway as you pressed your hands into his back and laughed, “I offered to be nice about this.”

“Mmmm, you sound a little desperate, old man.”

He gave your ass a solid smack in response, hard enough to sting and soft enough to be playful.

“Keep runnin’ that mouth, sweetheart. You’re only makin’ it worse for yourself.”

You could feel the heat building in him with every step, the way his grip on you tightened slightly as he carried you toward your bedroom. The air shifted from playful tension to something hotter, heavier.

When he kicked the door shut behind him, it was like a switch flipped. He dropped you onto the bed. Not rough, but with enough force to bounce, enough to show he wasn’t playing anymore.

“Strip,” he said, pulling his shirt off over his head. “And lose the attitude while you’re at it.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, still lying back on the bed. “You always give orders like that, Captain, or am I just special?”

Price dropped the shirt to the floor and stepped closer, towering over the edge of the bed with a look that landed somewhere between amused and done with your shit.

“You’re bloody special, alright,” he said dryly. “Special kind of difficult.”

Your grin widened.

He leaned in, one knee hitting the mattress as his hand firmly closed around your ankle. He dragged you toward the edge of the bed inch by inch, slow enough to make your heart pound. You bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the devious grin on your face, but it was a useless endeavor. 

“I like a challenge,” he murmured, voice lower now, intimate. “Especially when they moan real sweet once I’ve shut ’em up.”

You started to open your mouth, some smart remark half-formed on your tongue, but he was already moving. He hooked his fingers into your waistband, yanking your bottoms down and off with practiced ease.

“Still got that attitude?” he asked, his voice soft now, too soft.

You nodded slowly, defiantly.

He just smiled.

“Good,” he said, spreading your legs and settling between them like he had all the time in the world. “Makes it more fun when I fuck it out of you.”

You went to snap something back, but the words fizzled the second his calloused hands slid up your thighs. One palm anchored your hip while the other pushed your shirt up inch by inch, baring your stomach to the cool air.

“Arms up,” he said simply.

His tone was calm, commanding, and it sent a surge of electricity straight through you. You hesitated just long enough for him to raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

You obeyed, slowly, lifting your arms as he peeled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. The bra remained, a delicate, thin veil of black lace. The look in his eyes darkened when it was all that remained.

“Mm,” he hummed, fingers sliding under the straps, dragging them down your arms one at a time. “Almost a shame to take this off.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing the swell of your breast through the lace. Then, he reached behind you with one practiced flick of the wrist.

Click.

The clasp gave instantly, no fumbling, just ease. Control.

“There we go,” he muttered, dragging the straps the rest of the way down. He tossed it aside without looking, too focused on the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way you shifted under the weight of it.

“Don’t even think about runnin’ that mouth,” he muttered, hooking his fingers into your underwear.

You opened your mouth, another bratty quip forming, but then the fabric was gone. Dragged down your legs and tossed behind him. And then his hands were on your thighs again, firmer this time, pushing your knees apart like it was routine.

His voice was low and thick with something darker now. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

He dragged two fingers through your folds, slowly, deliberately, and barely dipping in. He didn’t look down or let his gaze leave yours. Didn’t need to.

“Wet already?” he murmured, thumb brushing against your clit just enough to tease. Now, he took a moment to look upon your dripping cunt and added, “And you’re still pretending you don’t need me.”

You squirmed, biting your lip. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, old man.”

His gaze snapped up. Steady. Lethal. Like a wolf who’d just decided how he was going to play with his food. His hand stilled, fingers just barely inside you.

“Right,” he said, as if making a decision.

Then, he pushed in. Two thick fingers, quick and deep, curling just enough to make your back arch. He set a pace immediately: firm, unrelenting, no mercy.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he grunted, watching your face, “but look at you now. Drippin’ all over my fuckin’ hand.”

Your breath hitched, a choked moan slipping past your lips. You reached for his wrist without thinking, fingers digging into his forearm like that might slow him down.

He didn’t slow. He leaned in, lips at your ear.

“Beg for it,” he whispered. “Beg me to make you come.”

You clenched around his fingers involuntarily, breath catching. He felt it. Of course he did. He bent down lower, his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Go on, sweetheart. You were so loud a minute ago.”

You swallowed hard. Bit your lip and shook your head.

“No?” he asked, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Shame.”

And then his fingers slowed, still inside you, still curled just right, but his pace dropped to a lazy rhythm. His thumb circling your clit with barely enough pressure to keep you teetering. It was maddening. Close, but not enough. 

“You can wait, then,” he said coolly, like it was a casual choice. “I’ve got all night.”

You whimpered, hips twitching. He didn’t move faster. Didn’t budge. His free hand came up and gripped your chin, tilting your face toward him until your eyes met his.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You nodded quickly.

“Then ask me.”

“Please,” you breathed. “Fuck, please, John…”

“Please what?”

“Please make me come. I need it. Fuck, I need you.”

That was the switch.

His smile returned with a dark satisfaction. The hand between your legs snapped back to work. Fast. Precise. His fingers plunged into you, curling up, while his other hand went to your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed firm, relentless circles against it. You cried out, the heat building in a dizzying rush, all control ripped away like paper in a storm.

“That’s it, good girl,” he growled. “Just like that. Let me hear you.”

You clutched at the sheets, back arching, the orgasm tearing through you so hard you saw stars. And he didn’t stop, not right away. He worked you through it, dragging every last tremble out of your body, until you were gasping and twitching, his name somewhere between a sob and a moan on your lips.

To be continued...

[bootsukki]

7.

warnings: toxic behaviour (sorry about this chapter but i think it's needed)

fic masterlist!

full masterlist!

taglist (closed!): @adelinesthoights @bellssforyou @halfp4stmidnight @avis-writeshq @carm1lla @sunghoonsgfreal @reirain @cherrypieyourface@aynfp @keldracula @kurroomii @chilichopsticks @shanchiikiss @starstrikeer @yzaelki @just-lilita @chiiibeaa @baby-bunnyxn @zarisluvr @xxpr3ttyk173rxx@albakugo @swoozleee @aeristocrats @frog-and-moon @amterasuu

You gasp as you open your eyes. He sun is hitting your face and you try to move, but your body feels like its stuck in its place. You cannot move your arms nor your legs. 

“Why are you crying?”

You turn your head to look at the little girl with pigtails next to the slide and nearly sob at the sight of her blue dress, knees scraped from falling and rosy cheeks due to the heat. It’s you. 

Are you dreaming?

Your 5-year-old self leans down to look at the brown-eyed boy who is crying on the floor.

“My brother stole my food.”

You see yourself looking at the boy and you smile at the sight of a teary-eyed Atsumu. 

“Who’s your brother?”

“He looks like me but has blueish eyes…” 6-year-old Atsumu looks at you. “He’s my twin.”

“Don’t worry.” You say, cleaning a tear from Atsumu’s face. “My name’s (Y/N) and I’ll get you food.”

“I’m…Miya Atsumu…. My brother is Osamu…”

You look around the park and softly smile: it really was your happy place. The place where you met your best friends, whee you had created so many memories…

Your younger-self walks past you, spotting the other twin at the other side of the park, munching on some food as you run towards him.

“Hey!” You stop in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. “You stole your brother’s food.”

The boy looks up at you, dark blue eyes confused at the sight of you.

“And?”

“It’s his food! Give it back.”

“No.” 

“You know what?” You grab the food from his lap. “You are a booger eater! So, eat your boogies and leave your brother alone!”

“You are a booger eater a hundred times infinitive!”

“Huuuuuh? You are it for a hundred times infinitive plus one!” You shake your head, walking away from him. “Don’t follow me, booger eater.”

Suddenly, you are not at the park anymore.

The scenario changes and you find yourself at home. You try to move again, to feel the trinkets on your shelf, the pictures you have hung on the walls, but you can’t. You are not even 5 anymore but 15, wearing you Inarizaki uniform. Atsumu is sitting on the floor doing his homework while you sit on your bed, finishing your math homework.

“I think Osamu likes you.”

You see yourself stiffen at Atsumu’s statement and drop your pen on the floor.

“W-What!?”

“I don’t know, really. You know how he is.”

“Why are you telling me this!?” You hide yourself behind your book, blushing at the thought of Osamu liking you back. “He…”

“He teases you a lot.”

“Well… We have always teased each other, you know that…” You reply softly. “He probably doesn’t even think about me like that.”

“I don’t know…” Atsumu looks at you, a smile on his face. “I think he teases you because he likes you and… I believe it would be pretty fun to have you as family.”

“Don’t get too ahead…” You finally pick up your pen from the floor. “You’re probably wrong, like always.”

“You like him a lot, don’t you?” Atsumu does not look at you. “I think you have always liked him.”

“I…” 

“I’m your best friend, I notice all of this, even if you think I don’t.” Atsumu says. “I think you would be a really cool couple, if only one of you would confess already. Although I think seeing you kiss him would gross me out.”

“Shut up!”

Atsumu laughs and you join him—well, the past version of you does.

The scene shifts again and you hear the rain hitting the window of Osamu’s room. 

Your younger self lays in Osamu’s bed, body covered by his blankets as he lays beside you, one of his fingers softly caressing the lower part of your naked back. 

You remember this moment as if it was yesterday. You first time having sex with Osamu, after nearly six months of dating. 

Osamu reaches out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and softly kiss your cheeks. 

“I’m scared,” you whisper, turning to look at him. His cheeks are rosy and his hair is a mess but you can’t help but look at yourself, how your cheeks blush at the sight of him. “I… Sorry.”

“Is this about Sendai?”

Your past-self goes still and nods softly before a tear makes its way down your cheeks.

“Hey,” Osamu cleans the tear with his thumb and kisses you softly. “It’s just a year and you’ll be with me again. And, to be honest, I’ll be back for a lot of things. You'll have your older boyfriend with you fro graduation, don't worry.”

“You're only a year older and I know that you'll come to visit but…”

“One year and we will be living together.” He whispers. “One year and we’ll be together forever. Maybe we’ll get married.”

“Shut up…” You answer, hiding your face under the blanket. “I… I’m not sure about moving to Sendai…”

“What?”

“Their journalism degree is… not the best.” You reply, Osamu slowly leaning away from you. “There are a lot of great universities in Tokyo and we can schedule weekends to visit each other or come home, right? An-”

“I thought we had a plan.”

“We do, I…” You look at him. “I just need to think about it for a bit and see the pros and cons, you know?”

“That’s stupid.” Osamu stands up from the bed, putting on some pants and a t-shirt. “Why do you want to go to Tokyo for? Is there something or someone you are interested in?"

"What? No, of course not! Well, my dad lives there and I could save money by living at home but..."

"Living at home when you have a boyfriend who is willing to live with you is childish."

"'Samu, I just..."

If you loved me as much as you say you do, you wouldn’t have doubts about this.”

“W-what…? Of course I love you, I...”

You cannot hear more, but the conversation replays on your mind. You see Osamu pacing around his room, giving you your clothes. You see his mouth moving as he tells you to get out and not caring about the fact you were sobbing, moving away from you when you tried to explain your feeling and when you were hugging yourself, hoping he was the one holding you.

He never did but you still came back, saying sorry. Saying you would go to Sendai with him, that all you said the previous night was because you were vulnerable and had a lot on your mind.

He never came to your graduation either.

Another memory.

“I think I should go home…” You are older now and this memory still haunts you some days. Suna is visiting you and Osamu and it’s his last night in the city. Atsumu is in the US playing volleyball and Osamu has recently finished his culinary course, so he just spends his days working part-time in a restaurant. 

You are now 20 and it is a chill September night, on your second year of university and even though a part of you still thinks of the possibilities you could have got on Tokyo, you don’t regret moving to Sendai. You feel like your relationship is the best thing in the world and you don’t need anyone apart from Osamu.

At least, that’s what he tells you. 

“Why would you need friends from uni when you have me? And also, the boys will come pretty frequently to visit, so…” "The boys in your class just want to get closer to you because you're pretty and they probably want to fuck you so you shouldn't talk to them." "You don't need girl friends, believe me."

That’s how it has always been in your relationship.

“No!” Suna says. “Stay for a bit.”

“I don’t know… I’m worried about ‘Samu.” You reply, finishing the last of your drink. “I feel bad leaving him by himself if he’s feeling sick and he’s not answering my messages…”

“He’s a big boy, (Y/N).” Suna looks at you but you shake your head. “He’s probably sleeping, anyway.”

“I’m going to call him.” You grab your jacket and leave the noisy bar for a moment, walking outside. You’re feeling a bit drunk and dizzy but you dial Osamu’s phone.

“This is Miya Osamu, please leave your message.”

“Babe, call me when you can, okay? I’m…” You stumble, bumping into a group of boys, and you quickly mutter “sorry” before hearing them laugh at one of his friends, a tall one. “I’m worried about you and you are not answering my messages.”

Worried, you quickly text Suna that you are going home and catch a cab that has just left some girls at the entrance of the bar. You phone buzzes with messages from Suna and you quickly reply, saying that you’ll send an Uber his way whenever he wants.

You’re drunk, that’s a given. 

With shaky hands, you grab your keys and make your way inside the apartment complex but what you don’t expect is seeing you front door open and boxes scattered around the hall.

“What the…” You shake at the thought of people entering your apartment and maybe doing something to Osamu. “Babe?”

You don’t receive an answer so you enter the apartment. You don’t see anyone but you hear noise coming from your bedroom and you quickly open the door, finding Osamu completely dressed and filling up a suitcase.

“What… what are you doing?”

Osamu stops dead in his tracks when he sees you.

“What are you doing here?” He answers. “You should be with Suna.”

“Are you doing deep cleaning or something?”

“No.”

“Then, why are there boxes on the hall and you are…?” 

“(Y/N). I… I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” You don’t understand anything he’s saying. “Where?”

“Osaka.”

“Huh?”

“I… I’m breaking up with you.”

You laugh, leaving your bag on the bed.

“You shouldn’t joke with things like that.” You try to approach him but he pushes you away, shaking his head. “Osamu…”

“I’m not joking.” He closes the suitcase. “I’m… I’m tired of this.”

“What…?”

“You’re… Holy shit, I told Suna to keep you entertained while I… Fuck!” “You were… you were going to leave without…?”

“I’m tired of you.” Osamu cuts you off. “You’re holding me back in this shitty place!”

“But…” Tears are rolling down your cheeks now. Where is this coming from? “I came here for…”

“Stop it!” Osamu shouts, looking into your eyes. “You’re holding me back from my dreams and from everything.”

“What? But, but…”

“But, but… Can you stop being a pathetic little girl for a second?” He closes the suitcase. “These have been the worst four years of my life.”

You sob, shaking your head. 

“You’re playing with me, this is… it’s just one of your jokes, right?” You ask. “Like always, right? Like that time you told me that I was gaining weight so…”

“Shut the fuck up, please.” He answers, pushing you away again, leaving the bedroom. “I shouldn’t have dated you.”

You turn to try and grab his sleeve but you trip and fall, leaving you on your knees, make-up completely ruined and sobbing.

“‘Samu, please…” 

You raise your head and notice that Suna is there, holding some of the smallest boxes. He was in it the whole time. Did he just visit you so he could watch this? So he could help Osamu?

You want to scream and reach out but he’s right. You’re a pathetic little girl that can’t even stand up to beg him to stay. With shaky hands, you try to grab his leg but Osamu moves.

“Please, please… Don’t do this to me…” You nearly choke with your own tears. “Please…”

But the door closes, your dream fades and Osamu fades with it.

All that’s left is your own voice echoing back at you in the dark:

“Please, please, please.”

[noxitsnox]

garage band singer!hee- hc

garage band!lee heeseung x f!waiter!reader

summary: in the pub where you work, often performs a band whose singer fascinates you. it's become a habit for you to secretly exchange notes, but despite this, you've never went on a date, well until today.

tags: non idol au, fluff, both reader and heeseung are down bad, heeseung is a bit toxic but also very sweet, alcohol mentioned, second person pov, y/n is used a few times i think? idk, a hybrid between hc and os

a/n: this is about blue haired heeseung specifically.

also this isn't jake fic... sorry, i've had this one in my mind so long i wasn't able to finish the chapter. i'll post jake before the 28th of april for sure! as always @exactlyinfp 🙂‍↕️

heeseung is a singer in the band his friends and him formed during highschool. the goal was to make a living from music and well, they're not quite there yet but they did find a place to play at regularly

you worked at that pub as a waitress and the moment you saw heeseung... you were in love. the moment you heard him sing your heart exploded

was it possible to be attracted to someone's voice? because damn

after the performance you fought against time to be the one to make his drink just to have a chance so see him up close

you watched him the whole night, hoping to gather the courage to talk to him. it didn't happen but instead you found a note on his napkin

to the pretty waitress with h/c and e/c, xx -l. heeseung

keeping your cool suddenly became very difficult. as you watched the way he slightly tilted his head back when he laughed or the way he bit his tounge as he played.

there was something about his vibes, his aurea... he looked both very approachable and very unapproachable at the same time. even now that he approached you, you were scared to make your move.

in the end, you managed to find out where he kept his guitar case and you put your own note to him in the front pocket when he went to the bathroom.

the week after, his band played again and you could swear he was looking at you, smirking throughout the whole performance.

that day he passed you another note and you did the same.

now, after almost a year, it was normal for you to exchange those notes between a song and a glass of beer. it was the only way you and him would talk basically. you kept every single note- from the very first one, inside your journal so that if in a hypothetical future your grand children asked about how their grand parents got together you could simply show them the story. you hoped he was conserving them too, that way the story would be complete.

problem was that after all this time you needed to have his number, it was a physical need atp. you wanted a way to actually communicate with him outside of the pub.

everytime you were tempted to write it on a napkin and give it to him you changed your mind, main problem was your constant overthinking

if he wanted my number he would've asked by now, we've never even really talked to each other, what if he has a girlfriend, what if doesn't actually like me

but that night you were tired of waiting

you only wished you could talk with him outside of that stupid paper notes. when his band played you spent more time in your mind than at the pub, everytime you looked at him you were closer to just go and kiss him on the spot. maybe this way heeseung would finally understand and give you his number, take you out on a date. everytime you stopped yourself, "y/n don't let your impulsive thoughts win and contain yourself". but as the days passed it was becoming more and more difficult, you were growing frustrated to the point you almost hated him. it was stupid, if you never talked to him how could he know how much you wanted him? and yet you couldn't help but think that he should have an idea by now. and furtively just like the first note you gave him your number. you avoided his table for the rest of the evening, dying of embarrassment every time you met his eyes.

that night an unknown number texted you, but you knew very well who it was

→ finally, i was starting to lose hope. thought i had to find me another pretty girl yk

you audibly scoffed and asked him why, if he wanted your number so bad, he never asked for it

he said he "didn't want to impose himself on you" which was a shitty answer disguised as something sweet

despite that, you actually liked talking with him. that night you stayed up, butterflies in your stomach as you two texted. you felt like a middle schooler dealing with her first crush

everything was perfect except for one thing: at the pub he never spoke to you, barely even looked at you as he flirted with other girls.

you wanted to be mad but you had to remind yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend, your jealousy wasn't legitimate

you hated that part of him so much, how could someone be so nice on the phone and yet so cruel in real life?

but even this didn't stop you from immediately responding with a smile every time your phone screen lit up with his name.

after months he asked you on a date! you had a real actual date with heeseung

he didn't want to tell you where he'd bring you. "it's a surprise" he insisted when you asked

but eventually, after a hundred messages begging him to tell you, using the excuse of "I have to figure out how to dress" he gave you a small spoiler

you found out he was planning a pic nic

he didn't tell you directly, but you heard him say to one of his bandsmate after a performance at the pub

→ when's your day off? i'll pick you up at 11 am that day

you didn't question how he knew where you lived, it wasn't worth it

you just focused on the date, and god it was perfect

you pretended to be surprised when he got out the blanket and pic nic chest. why would you ruin the moment by telling him you already knew about it?

he prepared everything. all the food was cooked by him, he brought all the drinks- even tho it was mainly beer- and he even got you flowers

and the most important thing: heeseung looked absolutely stunning

it was your first time seeing him in day light, since you decided the photos you saw by stalking his profiles didn't count

dark blue hair literally shined under the sun and even if he was simply wearing some baggy jeans and a t-shirt he was gorgeous

he took up just the right amount of space, without invading your personal space but still appearing friendly and close

the confident, secure man you knew was gone

he was sweet, kind and lovely and you weren't complaining

even when he kissed you, it wasn't like you imagined at all

knowing his "stage persona" you thought it'd be rough and wet but it wasn't like that at all

it gave you butterflies, he put a gentle hand on your cheek and lean on you

you were afraid that after the date he'd went back to not knowing you while at the club

instead during the first performance after the he openly dedicated one song for you

he stopped flirting with other girls and he introduced you to his bandsmates

that night on the napkin he wrote:

you're lovely, girl. i'm the luckiest man alive to have you all for myself. xoxo l. heeseung

[theexaltedbride]

Rabbit with a Deceased Reader lover Headcanons.

Losing you was one of the worst pains Rabbit has ever experienced. When it first happened it was a blinding agony which drowned out all of his other senses. Now it is a dull ache constantly on his heart which waxes and wanes, but in its own way...it is a good pain. Because it tells the demon that he truly did have a heart, and he really did love you.

'If this is why Sparda did what he did...then I understand.' He thinks to himself as his hand moves in circles over his own heart, still trying to soothe the aching, if even for just a moment.

Being a demon means he's lived a long time and seen many horrors. Far too many than is right for anyone to have to ever endure.

After a while it becomes easy to ignore them, he just let them slide off his soul like water off of a duck's back. But that same emotional state would just as common with the good events too. It all became like a blur after a while. A dull gray haze where thoughts were rendered into nothing but a faint buzz at the back of the mind.

Rabbit felt like he was sleepwalking through life until he met you.

You were different. The time you and rabbit spent together was like a reprieve from the daily discomfort and hardship, a stay of execution on his very soul. It let him forget all his troubles for a few blessed years. The good times and the bad times are still clear in his mind, even if they've begun fraying at the edges, and specific details have blurred, he still remembers you. Rabbit never forgot your favorite mix of tea that he would brew for you. He never forgot how it felt to dance with you, to hold you, kiss you, the feeling of your fingers between his own.

Whenever Rabbit is alone at night, unable to sleep, he will close his eyes and think of the soothing memories he had of you, just casually walking together, him showing you the small creatures of Makai which weren't dangerous, or just holding you close to him and sharing the warmth of your bodies. They are still fresh in his mind, and never fail to bring him comfort.

It almost makes up for how he's forgotten your scent (despite his best efforts), how he can't remember the exact sound of your laugh or what it felt like to run his hands through your hair. Things slip through his grasp even despite his best efforts. Each time he loses a memory, it's like a small part of him has died.

-Rabbit's mood has permanently soured with your passing. He still smiles and laughs on occasion, but much of the time has him serious or frowning. Thoughts of you on your best days never fail to bring at least a half smile to his face.

-Any trinket of yours which survived your passing will become cherished by him, and losing it or misplacing it will drive him rabid. Even just forgetting where he put it has him scurrying around a room and turning things over, only able to calm down once he can feel it in the palm of his hand or press it to his chest, above his heart, as if it were a bandage over the hole left when you died.

-Like with Dante and the flight attendant who looked like his mother, anyone who looks or acts like you will get a reaction from Rabbit. His temper will be cooled by them and he will be more lenient than he would with others. But he knows that they aren't you, and this is just him longing for what he can't have anymore.

-The temptation to go full Dr. Frankenstein, or make deals with more powerful demons to bring you back to lie is always there for Rabbit. If he could just have you back for even a single day, it would be worth the price. But he never does it. He fears what would happen if you were brought back 'wrong', or if your soul were snatched up by some other demon. Or worse...if you were in an actual Heaven of your own, and he was stealing you away from it....he misses you, but he wouldn't want to rob you of paradise like that.

-Rabbit will tell the story of how you and he met to younger Makaians as if it were a fairy tale, spinning a yarn about a noble (if headstrong) Rabbit prince of a lost kingdom trying to win the heart of their one true love.

It's easier for him to think of it that way, because sometimes he struggles to believe he could ever be so lucky as to earn someone like you in his life. He thinks himself unworthy of such love, and that was why he lost you.

"If there is a God in charge of all of this, he took my dearest from me, because I don't deserve that kind of happiness." He would say if anyone managed to learn about how much he still misses you.

"I'm vile, I'm hateful to the extreme, I'm prideful, I...didn't appreciate my dearest enough. So, I didn't deserve to have them."

-Sometimes he truly wishes he could just fade out, and leave it all behind. But he made you a promise in your last moments, that he would live. He'd find happiness, and he wouldn't lose himself to despair.

-He doesn't know if he will ever move on...maybe he will, demons live a very long time after all, or maybe he won't. But whatever choice he makes, his love for you and those precious moments you both spent together will never stop mattering to him. Rabbit will keep them with him till he too fades, and if there is an afterlife for creatures like him, he swears to find you there.

========

Couple's Playlist.

'Strong For Somebody Else' ~Citizen Soldier.

'Who wants to live forever?' ~ Queen.

[starboishifting]

for my mulan ask game !!

🪞 ❝ WHEN WILL MY REFLECTION SHOW WHO I AM INSIDE ❞ ... when you look into the mirror who do you see? do you look how you imagined yourself to as a child? has your aesthetic changed? do you like who you see?

💖 ❝ LI SHANG ❞ ... mm, tell me about your s/o. share whatever fun fact you please. this is an open question for you to tell us all about your beloved <3

🐉 ❝ MUSHU ❞ ... who's your best friend? was it a clear match from the start, or like Mushu and Mulan, did it happen along the way?

imma be so real, i don't have a d/r in mind for this one; i kind of want to tell you about the life i'm living in this reality.

🪞 ❝ WHEN WILL MY REFLECTION SHOW WHO I AM INSIDE ❞ ... when you look into the mirror who do you see? do you look how you imagined yourself to as a child? has your aesthetic changed? do you like who you see?

if 12 year old me could see me now, i think they'd be utterly ecstatic. i'm not sure i look how i thought i would, but i am so freaking cool now. i have the greatest partner in the world, i live with some of the coolest people to have ever existed, i have access to cats all of the time, i live in a dingy apartment that smells like weed and is covered in political art and filled with good food and good coffee and so much love i don't really know how to handle it. i love my home and i love my family, and i'm grateful that i get to experience this kind of love.

💖 ❝ LI SHANG ❞ ... mm, tell me about your s/o. share whatever fun fact you please. this is an open question for you to tell us all about your beloved <3

oh, the things i could say about my partner~ my love, my baby, my monster, my kitty, my cosmo, my everything. i'm not feeling very well, so today we were lying in bed and kind of just... staring at each other. and i said, "i wish i could screenshot my mind; i'd have 7,000 pictures of your eyes." and it said, "then i just won't move." i'm sorry, but that is, hands down, the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me in my life. i had a breakdown because my disabilities and illness were kicking my ass today, and we just talked. for like, an hour. we talked. about the things that scare me and how i feel like i don't deserve it or the home that it's building with me and its other partners, and it reassured me every moment that i do deserve the soft and sweet and lovely things, that i am not what i was told i am, that i am gentle and beautiful and inherently worth something. it's an odd feeling, to feel safe and cared for and loved. to trust someone with everything about myself. i'm so very lucky to have it, and i can't imagine a place i'd be happier.

🐉 ❝ MUSHU ❞ ... who's your best friend? was it a clear match from the start, or like Mushu and Mulan, did it happen along the way?

@sebsreflection is my best friend, i fear /pos. it's been rocky, but by fuck do i love this odd little gay boi.

thank you for the ask, i so loved answering it <3

[rosieposie1002]

The Boys :

Denki and Akira

My first friend in U.A

We met on the first day of school cuz bro rammed into me on the sidewalk while he was skating (i head cannon him as someone who skates everyday to school)

Started apologizing to me cuz he thought I was a senior

Turns out we were both first years who were just relieved that they would know someone from school

We also happen to live close by so I hang out a lot with him

Part of the rich kids gang

We're both dumbasses who are always upto something stupid

One of my closest friends

Aizawa Sensei is too tired for our shit

[Gossiping, playgrounds, popsicles, board games, summers, cold drinks, candy, pranks, late night ghost summoning]

Hanta and Akira

Bestie

We're like this 🤞

This man is the chillest, the bestest, the coolest, most amazing person in all of 1 A

We first started talking after we got paired up by All Might for the Hero vs Villain Hero Studies Training

He's half Spanish and I'm half (ig) American so we love talking in English with each other

Hanta is the first person to find out about my crush

He gives great advice not only in romantic matters but in all matters related to life

An avid video game player

He's the one I talk to the most, like we're both yappers

We also love doing new trends with each other

He's my best friend (w/ Kyoka and Felix)

[Late night cooking, biking, cafes, cats, ice cream, chocolates, intrusive thoughts, cola, video games, movies, manga, spiderman, nail paint]

Felix and Akira

My bestfriend in every dr

Was the emo guy at first who never talked to anyone and thought he was undeserving of becoming a hero

We got paired up for the Final exam and I clocked his ass so bad that he had to come out of his shell and accept his self worth lol

We've become inseparable since then, like we love talking about anything and everything

Love doing skincare with him

Part of the Dekusquad 😎

Lowkey an anxious chihuahua

We're the most unhinged duo out there like Kats and Shoto are almost always worried (Sho) and angry (Kats) at us

[Facemasks, gossip, brainrot, sunglasses, study sessions, NCT, playfights, sarcasm, shopping, James Bond, food, card games]

Katsuki and Akira

older brother - little sister vibes

At first he saw me as an extra like everyone else but like an extra with cool powers so potential rival ig

It was only after we rescued him from the Lov did he actually start opening up to me

After that we built a kind of angry older brother and mischievous younger sister bond

He genuinely is one of the sweetest people I've ever met, just doesn't know how to express it

I always tease him when he's with Kirishima

High key third wheeling in my relationship from the start

Also knows how to braid hair like a pro

[Deep conversations, braids, baggy hoodies, cooking, music, hand over shoulder, head pats, Nemo, walks, sparring, teasing jokes]

Izuku and Akira

another suicidal bestie

He's such a sweet boy omg

I think we got closer after the Hero vs Villain Training that All Might made us do

Like you know when everyone was saying how they loved Izuku's fight after he came back from the infirmary

Also became really close to Uraraka and Iida around that time

But, I think the thing that really pulled us together was that I was All Might's niece so I guess we really got close after that

He's almost always having breakdown

Certified Yapper Duo of Class 1A, like we never shut up

Always takes part in whatever idiotic things I wanna do even if he knows he'll get in trouble

[Hoodies, breakdowns, yapping, notes, idiots, All Might, distorted sleep schedules, study sessions, manga, books, hair care, ice creams]

Ejiro and Akira

The man that he is omg

I think we also got close after the Hero vs Villain Hero Training

Had to fight against him and (spoiler) me and Hanta won but he didn't throw a tantrum like someone *cough*Katsuki*cough* and was actually really supportive

Who can not be friends with him like come on

The most respectful man I know

A bit clueless but loves learning new things

Me and Mina are always lieing to him about the simplest things and he believes it

Me and the Bakusquad always help him dye his hair

Is like the middle older brother when you have two older brothers

Like Katsuki is the eldest, Ejiro is the middle and I'm the youngest

Always goes along with whatever idiotic stuff I wanna do

[Gym, hair care, training, protein shakes, dyes, tiktok trends, bracelets, FRIENDS, pranks, comfort, chick flicks, romcoms, kpop]

Hitoshi and Akira

to be added...

[for-a-longlongtime]

I love all of y’allz optimism, and I still expect the ‘twist’ will be that she either gets with her ex or does this dramatic ‘I decided to focus on myself and I’m not continuing with either of these guys’ which will be touted as a twist. Dakotas character seems to deal for a very major part with the money aspect re: relationships, so I can see it being phrased as ‘omg the twist is that when she has the chance to bag the unicorn that she decides to not go for it because money isn’t everything!’. Am I wrong? I’d love to be! And I would like to have higher expectations, esp because it’s indeed A24 and Celine Song and Pedro —- but see, the casting of Dakota and Chris leaves me extremely skeptical about it truly being a movie with a surprising twist. (Yes I’m prejudiced, I’ll fully own up to that)

Materialists was touted to be inspired by movies by James L Brooks as Broadcast News and Terms of Endearment, which I haven’t seen — but based on the synopsis, those two movies only have as a twist that it’s not ‘a happy ending’ but still a romance movie tho (and with a ‘triangle’ for Broadcast News. Let’s be real, anything like a triangle is often already presented at WOW LOOK AT THIS TWIST). Yes I’m also thinking of Challengers, written by Celine’s husband.

@oliveksmoked you know that I would go hard for a movie that has a polycule, but once again here to me it’s like… I could believe this if it wasn’t Dakota and Chris, but since it is, my expectations are simply very low. And while I would absolutely eat up a fic like this, especially if it’s written by you, also because I think there will be nuance to it — I actually fear for a movie where this is Harry’s “dark secret”, because I simply do not trust a fairly mainstream movie to handle that in a proper way.

I feel like the biggest giveaway is Chris’ character talking about “I see you with wrinkles on your face/when you’re older and with kids”. Not to mention he’s portrayed as a ‘young type’. Meanwhile we don’t hear shit about Harry’s wishes to have kids — so I’m fully expecting a ‘this unicorn of a man can and will give you everything you want, materially and emotionally, except for kids’ angle that’s going to make her pick her ex because “we may not have a lot but we’ll have each other and our kids”. Or she decides that instead of ~~~choosing a man she will choose herself and stay single in the end~~~.

Again- I SO hope to be wrong. But I’m highly skeptical that will be the case. I also feel like it’s possible that we’re holding out for a ~revolutionary twist~ because we’d like to think that’s the kind of movie Pedro would do so there must be something special to it, since we don’t expect him to do a romcom. But hey, I think it’s safe that many of us never expected him to do a Marvel franchise either, you know? (And I’m not even criticizing him for that, I’m just saying - just because it’s not the typical kinda movie for him, doesn’t mean that it’s not just a typical kind of romcom).

I’ll throw in one more thought. When my wife and I had watched Freaky Tales (she loved it too btw) and drove home, she asked me “Why has Pedro never done a movie that’s all about him as a romantic love interest? You know, him as a leading man, but then clearly about the relationship of him and his partner” (yes, she’s seen Strange Way Of Life, but I’d argue that is very different than the ‘leading man with love interest’ role that you generally see in more mainstream stuff). So then I told her what we know about Materialists and she was like “yeah that’s totally what I mean, where he’s like a catch for the female lead etc and you get to see him in romantic situations and with a sex scene or something! Cool, so I guess that’s coming up”.

So — a romcom (even if that isn’t very ‘twisty’) would make enough sense for Pedro to do simply because it’s not a genre he has explored yet. And considering he’s probably at the height (only so far, I bet there’s tons more to come) of his popularity this year, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just as simple as ‘Pedro Pascal playing the ideal man in a romcom’ as a major selling point for this movie. 🤷‍♀️ Because you’ve seen the response to it so far; the majority of people is eating it up, as romantic comedies are popular with a large segment of cinematic audiences, and I can’t even count the amount of women that I’ve seen say something like “omg obv one would have to pick Pedro!” - meaning, they have opinions about this and are invested, which means that the movie is already attracting audiences.

Also, doesn’t A24 often work repeatedly with the same actors? It may be part of a ‘package deal’ of things he’s doing for/with them, also because Eddington is an A24 movie too. I’m still hoping for him to work together with Halina Reijn (who wrote and produced Baby Girl) in a nineties style erotic thriller tho. GIMME THAT, I’ll inject it right into my veins because I bet it’ll be fab.

I’m Calling It Now…

Y’all out here writing these sweet and fluffy fics about a rich and loving Harry Castillo like he’s the “unicorn” they make him out to be in the Materialist trailer.

The trailer continuously emphaszies how he’s the perfect catch. Almost too perfect. I’m calling it now. There is something WRONG with him. I don’t know what it is - maybe he’s a con artist, an identity thief, or he has someone locked in his basement. I’m not sure…but I feel like a major twist is coming.

Or, it’s the only logical explanation my brain can conjure up to justify that someone would choose Chris over Pedro. Whatever… I’m sticking with it.

I’m mean look at this face. It just screams SNEAKY LIAR. 👀

EDIT: Adding...maybe his name really is Randy. Maybe Harry is his fake name. The one that he stole from the guy that's locked in his basement. Also, as @iknowisoundcrazy kindly pointed out, it's an A24 movie. They aren't exactly known for sweet and fluffy happily ever after type movies. 👀

Not that any of this matters…I still wouldn’t turn him away.

Ruin my life, sir. Please.😮‍💨

💜Mysty