#I’m not being funny babes knitting is so fucking annoying

[newlyy]

Why does this keep fucking happening?????

[holylulusworld]

Catfished

Summary: Ransom and you are no friends.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, getting catfished, sad reader, there is a tiny hint of fluff

“Hugh,” you quip, barely glancing at the arrogant trust-fund prick. “What brings you here?” you smirk now, eyes dropping to the cookies in his hands. “Ah, yeah. I forgot you must come here to pretend you care about Harlan to press more money out of the old man.”

“Who asked you?” Ransom retorts. “How about you eat shit and stop annoying other people.” You chuckle as you pissed Hugh Ransom Drysdale off again. He usually isn’t the kind of guy losing his cool in public.

“Ever the charmer,” he steps closer to angrily stare down at you. “No wonder there is no Mrs. Hugh Drysdale on your arm yet. How old are you again?”

“Why marry one girl if I can have them all?” you retch, disgusted by Ransom’s attitude. He’s the best example of the kind of man you try to avoid at all costs. Ransom Drysdale only cares about himself, nothing else.

“I guess you will help them find a better man after their encounter with you,” his brows knit together as if he tries to find a witty remark, but you don’t give him the chance to talk back.

You simply walk away, swaying your hips on purpose. “Bitch. I hope you eat shit tonight,” he calls after you. “I hate her so much. Someone should teach her a lesson one day. Maybe I’ll be that one…”

“No,” you swipe left. “Gross,” you scrunch up your nose. “He looks for fun with no strings attached. Like hell,” swiping left again you groan deeply. “Why did you suggest that I try online dating again?”

“You need to get laid and have fun for once,” your friend snatches your phone out of your hands to check on the men Tinder matched with you. “That one is kinda cute.” She points out.

“Babe, that guy is like fifty and wants a sugar babe,” rolling your eyes at your friend you sigh deeply. “I’m looking for something serious. I want a man spending his life with me, not to fuck me senseless.”

“Can we not start with a hot guy fucking you senseless and get to the point where you find your Prince Charming?” she batts her eyelashes, hoping you will give in. “Come on. Be brave and choose one of the guys.”

“Fine, give me my phone back,” looking at the next guy you huff. “He doesn’t look too bad. Nice hair and eyes.” You wonder if the man could be the one or just another guy you want to forget about. “I could swipe right. What do you think?”

“Just do it, Y/N. You don’t have to go out with him tonight. Talk to him and find out if you match,” Laura shrugs. “Give it a try.”

You gave it a try. Three months later you chat with the guy, giggling as he sent you a silly picture of his dog and a not funny limerick.

“Fuck, I like him,” you feel your heart flutter as Jackson wishes you a good night. “Maybe I should ask him out. What do you think?”

“Babe, I told you to get laid, not have an online relationship with that guy,” Laura is annoyed that you still can’t attend double dates. She wanted you to find a boyfriend, not an online friend. “I can’t believe you never met in person so far.”

“He’s a bit shy,” you don’t tell Laura that you are afraid to meet up with Jackson. What if reality can’t keep up with your fantasy? You got a clear picture of Jackson and don’t want to ruin it. “And I’m not sure if we wans to meet up yet, Laura.”

“Christ, just get it over with. What’s a relationship without being able to meet in person? Just ask him for a meeting. You could invite him for dinner or go for a coffee. If he likes you, he’ll agree.”

“You’re right,” you sigh deeply. “I know you are. It’s just…I don’t want to lose him. This sounds crazy, I know, but I think I really like that guy.”

“Whoa…”

“He’s the first guy to understand me completely. What if I mess things up and say the wrong thing when we meet? Or even worse. He could hate me as I’m not the woman he believes I am.”

“Y/N, stop acting like a fool,” Laura snatches your phone out of your hands. “If you are not brave enough,” she sends Jackson a message, smirking as you fight for your phone. “And done.”

“Shit, you can do this, Y/N,” you nervously tug at the dress you decided to wear for your first date with Jackson. He took his time before he agreed to meet up with you. After Laura send the message he didn’t contact you for the better of a week. “That’s the nicest guy you met for what feels like ages. Go in there and get him.”

You take a deep breath, straighten your back, and promise yourself to not be too disappointed if Jackson doesn’t show tonight. He’s a guy you met online after all.

“I reserved a table for Y/L/N,” you say. “Did my guest already arrive?”

“Yes. I’ll show you the table, miss,” nervously licking your lips you stare at the waitress, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You’ve never been this nervous before and don’t want her to know you’d like to just run for the hills. “Please follow me.”

“Thank you,” you hastily say. “This is a blind date and I’m a bit nervous.”

“He’s hot,” she says while guiding you toward your table. “That guy is a keeper if you ask me. Seems to be wealthy too.”

“Oh—that’s not…,” your heart drops when the waitress stops in front of your table and a familiar pair of blue eyes and a cocky smirk greet you. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What did you do to Jackson, Hugh?”

“Aw, sweet pea,” feeling your chest tightening you realize Jackson never existed. “Did you honestly believe a guy like Jackson exists? No guy is so…let’s call it sensitive.”

You should’ve known better than to look for love online. Sadly, you didn’t listen to your brain pointing at all the red flags. Now you stand here, looking into the face of your nemesis. You have to admit, he wins this round…

“How could you do this to me?” Ransom frowns as your lips start to quiver. “Ha-ha, very funny. You made it. Hugh Drysdale tricked me into believing there are still nice guys out there. Congratulations, you win.”

“Y/N, I only wanted to show you that guys like me are the only ones out there,” he gets up from his chair to stop you from leaving the restaurant. “Fuck, you are crying.”

“Yeah, of course. I-I liked Jackson and believed he likes me too. All the things I told him only to find out you catfished me for fun. How can you be so cruel? We had a friendly banter once in a while, that’s all. I never harmed you, Hugh. But you…you just broke my heart…”

You turn around and start running. Your vision is blurry, and you can barely see where you are going as Ransom chases after you. “Y/N, wait…” he grasps your arm, keeping you from running away from him. “This isn’t half as funny as I thought. I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Eat shit, Drysdale,” you sniffle. “I thought there is finally a nice guy liking the things I like. You don’t even have a dog. Everything you told me was lies…”

“How about I invite you for dinner,” he softly says while cupping the back of your neck to force you to look up at him. “I must admit that I stalked your Tinder profile for fun. Later I wanted to teach you a lesson but—” he trails off. “I never wanted to hurt you or make you fall in love with me.”

“I’m not in love with you, asshole,” Ransom smirks darkly as he leans closer to kiss the tears off of your cheek. “How could I ever love a selfish prick like you.”

“I don’t have a dog, that’s true. And I used a fake name,” he explains, lips moving over your cheek down to your lips. “Everything I told you about my childhood, my parents, and my loneliness was true. I told you things I never told anyone else.”

“I don’t believe you,” Ransom presses his lips to yours, putting all his feelings into this one kiss. “Get off me, Hugh.”

“I know you hate me for lying,” he pecks your lips. “But if you give me the chance to make things up to you, I’ll show you that Jackson is deep inside of me…”

“That sounded wrong on so many levels,” you loop his tie around your hand, tugging at it. “I want you to pay for dinner when I tell you so.”

“Does that mean you’ll forgive me?” chuckling at his puppy dog eyes you smirk.  “What?” Ransom frowns as you push him off you.

“Oh, didn’t you get the concept of Tinder? For now, I’ll swipe left…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[machine-gun-casie]

where are you?

synopsis: you feel insecure with colson and he’s having none of it. (itty bitty titty committee!fem!reader)

wc: 4k

warnings: smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and all that), dom/sub undertones, “sir”, soft dom!colson, praise kink, choking kink.

a/n: this is my first ever smut so pls be gentle! i wrote the reader as small chested, but nothing else is described because ik how annoying it can be when small chested reader starts turning into skinny reader, so i hope you enjoy! please tell me what you think and how well i did because this is so nerve  wracking!!! i love you guys!!

“Col, what are you doing?” You whined, crossing your arms over your chest. You were both lying on the couch when he suddenly jumped up and pulled you along with him. 

“Wait a minute.” He giggled as he set up his phone on top of a contraption made of random books he found lying around and two tissue boxes. His front facing camera was open and from what you could tell he was filming on tiktok.

“Oh my god, is that tiktok?” You groaned lightly. Colson had been obsessed with watching tiktoks recently, yet he hadn’t been really into making them. But the last time Casie was over, she taught him how to navigate the app and he was so eager to create. But did he have to be eager right now? You hadn’t had a chance to lie down with him all day.

“Yes,” he replied and walked away from his phone to stand directly in front of you, “now stand like this.” He instructed as he placed his large hands on your waist and positioned you to face him properly, taking your hands in his gingerly and putting them by your side.  

The first few notes left the speakers of his phone and you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to figure out the name of the song. “Am I supposed to react or something?”

“No no, just wait.” He smiled, incredibly excited for whatever this was. As the music grew louder, Colson came closer and brought his hand up and grabbed the collar of your sweater gently in his palm. He pulled the sweater outwards and leaned forward to look down your shirt.

“Where are you?” He mouthed with the music.

Your jaw dropped as you threw your head back in laughter, your hand instinctively coming up to cover your chest once more. “You motherfucker!”

Colson laughed and pulled you into him by the hem of your sweater, “Come on, you know that was funny.” The audio replayed in the background as the time allotted for the video was used up, leading Colson to let go of you and reach for his phone.

“It was.” You agreed. “Doesn’t make you less of a dick.”

“You know I love your tiny tits, babe.” He mumbled as he fiddled with his phone.

“You better.” You chuckled and went back to the couch, hoping that your blanket was still warm.

“Hey, I’m gonna post this. Is that cool?” He called out to you.

“Go ahead.” You replied as you made yourself comfortable. “That was funny. Is it a trend or something?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “there was another audio that went like ‘to girls with anything smaller than a b cup, I hope you gentlemen have a good day’ or something. I thought that was funnier, but I couldn’t find it.”

“Yeah, tiktok’s search thing is crap.” You rolled your eyes. “Honestly, the most memorable part of the videos on their platform is the audio. You should be able to find things without having everything saved in your favorites.”

“Anything else I should include in my email to tiktok’s team?”

“Yes, tell them to verify me while they’re at it.”

It was only an hour or so later when Colson had to leave for something or other, he had told you about it a few days prior but you couldn’t remember for the life of you. He said that he’d be back before midnight, which was code for ‘you should wait up for me’. It was around ten p.m. when you decided that you should probably freshen up and put something nice on. 

After a quick shower and some of that lotion that Colson loved the smell of, you sat on the damp bathroom counter and pulled out your little makeup bag that you had yet to unpack after your last trip with Colson.

Makeup wasn’t a necessity for nights with your boyfriend, but you knew he loved how roughed up you looked with smeared lipstick and mascara running down your cheeks. So you put on your heaviest mascara that wasn’t waterproof, focusing on your lower lashes, and one of your cheapest lipsticks so it wouldn’t stain no matter how badly it smeared.

You weren’t really thinking of how you would look as you went through your routine, but more of what would happen when Colson got home. So when you opened your lingerie drawer, full of red, black, and bright pink sets all thanks to Colson, you were surprised to be hit by feelings of insecurity and dread.

Considering the fact that your relationship with Colson was almost a year long thus far, you hadn’t felt insecure or uncomfortable with him in so long. Was it really… No. It couldn’t be.

That stupid tiktok. It was getting to you. 

You weren’t sure why. You knew it was a joke, a good one at that. It hadn’t made you uncomfortable at the time. Nor did it now, really. You and Colson have joked about the size of your boobs many times, just like how you joked about how skinny he was or how bad morning breath always was. It was just how your relationship grew to be after you both fully let loose around each other. 

So why was this getting to you? You tried to come to a conclusion as you pulled on one of your favorite sets. As you stared at yourself in the mirror and adjusted the lingerie, you heard the front door open and decided that the time for analyzing your insecurities was not now.

Moments after you settled down on the bed, the door open and revealed Colson in a nice fancy looking suit. He let out a low whistle as he dropped his phone and his keys on the dresser, “Wow. What did I do in this world to deserve this?”

“I think you just got real lucky.” You smirked. “Love the get up, lover boy.”

“Yeah? Balmain for next week’s carpet.” He did a little spin as he walked closer. A fitting with Balmain, that’s right. “How much do you love it?”

“Not enough.” You feigned a frown and cocked your head to the side. “I’d like it off now, please and thank you.”

“Since you used your manners.” He smiled as he shrugged off the white suit jacket, disposing of the shirt and the pants quickly after, leaving him in just his boxers. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart. I’d rip that set off you if I didn’t know how much it costs.”

“I don’t mind,” you purred as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “my man can buy me another.”

“Your man?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. He pulled you onto his lap, purposefully placing the damp patch on your lace panties against his pulsing erection.

Your hips bucked up at the contact and you hissed. “Yeah- my man.” You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his lips, pulling away as soon as he tried to take it further. “He takes care of me so well.”

“How does he take care of you, sweetheart?” Colson asked as he trailed his hands upwards against your thighs, one of them speeding up to your waist while the other stayed on its course. Your boyfriend wasn’t one for teasing, especially when he was as hard as he is now, so you knew where his hand was headed and it wasn’t going to take long.

“He fucks me so-” You gasped as his fingers reached the side of your panties, pushing them aside to stroke you gently. “He fucks me so good.” A moan escaped you as his pointer finger slowly sunk into you, knuckle by knuckle.

“Yeah I do.” Colson grinned as he watched your face contort. “So pretty, baby.” He let his thumb rest against your clit once his finger was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Colson,” you whined as you tried to ride his finger, “move.”

He pouted at you mockingly. “You were being so nice just now with your ‘please and thank you.’ You’re throwing around commands now?”

“Please, please, touch me.” He wasted no time in pumping his finger in and out and using his thumb to circle your clit. You whimpered at the attention, losing yourself to the pleasure. He had barely touched you and you were already desperate. “Another one, Colson. Please?”

“I love it when you use your manners, baby girl. Always so polite.” He smiled and watched you carefully as he pushed in his middle finger with the next thrust. His middle finger being slightly longer in addition to the girth of both fingers had your jaw dropping as your head fell back. “So perfect. Look at you, taking my fingers so well. Think you can take my cock just as good?”

“Yes, yes, please Colson.” You nodded fervently, trying to pull yourself off of his fingers. But he wouldn’t let you, pushing up along with you to keep his hand in place as he tsked at you.

“Not now babygirl, need you to come for me first. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He replied as he brought the hand on your waist up to your face. “Can you come for me?”

You whined as your eyebrows furrowed, eyes screwed shut at this point. “Wanna come on your cock.”

“And you will,” Colson reassured you, letting his hand fall to your neck, his thumb gently stroking the column of your throat, “but you gotta give me one before I can let you. I know you can, sweetheart. You’re always such a good girl for me, always taking care of me. Let me take care of you.” He circled your bud faster as he praised you, pushing his fingers in as deep as he could without hurting you to press up against your g-spot. He watched as you rolled your eyes back as the pleasure hit you and he knew you were close. 

He let his hand trail down your chest and then he pulled the lace covering your right breast down. Colson lowered his head and connected his mouth to your hardened nipple and you groaned as he swirled his tongue around it. You grabbed him roughly by the sides of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. With your eyes closed you didn’t see Colson’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He pulled away and looked at you carefully, realizing that you were on the precipice. “Come for me, Angel.” He breathed heavily against your lips. And like a good girl, you did.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure wash over you. Colson smirked as he watched you ride out the high, knowing that he did that to you with only his fingers.

“You really know how to use your hands.” You panted, leaning forward to place your forehead against his. 

“I changed your mind on fingering, didn’t I?” He asked. Colson was right, you used to hate being fingered before you met him. It just felt like prodding fingers and harsh jabs in a place that was far too sensitive for that. He begged and begged to touch you for weeks before you finally agreed, and it was probably one of his proudest moments when he managed to make you come five times with just his fingers that night.

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You chuckled,

“What? Fingering?” Colson asked as he gently pulled his fingers out of you, knowing damn well what word it was. “But I thought you liked getting fingered? I always finger you so good, don’t I?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You laughed. “You are a man child.”

“A man child who’s great at fingering.” He waggled his eyebrows at you as he brought his digits up to his mouth and sucked them clean. He placed his wet fingers against your cheeks and brought you closer to him, kissing you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it was intoxicating.

“Fuck me already!” You whined as you broke away from him. You pawed at his boxers to show him how desperate you were. “Please, I need you. Been waiting for you all day.”

“Me too, baby.” Colson huffed, lifting you off his lap and putting you down on the bed to take off his boxers. Once they were halfway across the room, Colson tried to push you down on the bed but you resisted.

“Wanna ride you.” You whispered and watched his eyes light up. 

“Can I take these off first?” He asked, hand coming up to your bra strap, and you nodded. He reached back and unclasped the fabric, watching the straps gently fall down your shoulder. He always loved undressing you, never letting you do it yourself. His hands came up to gently squeeze both your breasts, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your nipples. You slowly reached down to slip off your panties, knowing that Colson would stop you. “Hey, no. Let me.”

He always undressed you, he thought as he pulled your panties down your legs. Why would you attempt something different today? Something wasn’t adding up.

“Lie back.” You whispered as you pushed him down. You crawled up towards him and moved your legs to straddle his hips. “It’s been too long, baby.”

“I fucked you this morning.” Colson chuckled, voice tight as he felt your sopping wet pussy land on his aching dick.

“Like I said,” you sighed nonchalantly, “too long.”

Colson wasn’t one for teasing. You, on the other hand, lived for it. You glided against his length slowly, slicking him up and torturing him at the same time.

“You’re killing me here, sweetheart.” Colson groaned.

“You know it’s my favorite thing to do, my love.” You smiled, leaning down to kiss him. “Gotta remind you who’s in control.”

“Fuck,” he groaned at your words, “you wanna have that talk now? We both know I give you the reins when I feel like it.” He swiftly flipped the two of you over, leaving him hovering over your body. His right hand quickly reached up to circle your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. “Now be a good girl and ride my dick like you said you would.”

“Yes sir,” you smiled as you got the exact reaction you were hoping for. He dropped down next to you and helped you back into your previous position, but you stayed hovering over his hips. You grabbed the base of his cock and positioned the tip against your entrance. Slowly lowering yourself, you let go once the tip was firmly in place. You placed both hands against Colson’s heavily inked chest and pushed down the rest of the way.

You both moaned in unison when he bottomed out after what felt like forever. Colson tried to move his hips, but with the slight shake of your head he paused. “Gimme a- gimme a second, Mr. Monster Cock.”

“After all this time, sweetheart?” He smirked.

“You say that every time, Colson.” You laughed as you tried to relax. “Okay.” You nodded as you slowly lifted yourself off his hips, pausing at the tip and then lowering yourself a little faster than before. “Feels bigger every time. You’re not taking those penis enlargement pills, are you?” You knew you were only stroking his ego at this point, but his face was worth it.

“They should probably use me for their ads.” 

“They’d sell out too fast.” You groaned, your eyes fluttering shut. “I should ride you more often.”

“You don’t like it when I’m in control?” He asked, head rolling back and accentuating his adam’s apple. He opened his eyes and placed his palm against your throat again, warning you.

“Love it when you’re in control, baby.” You hummed. “But I gotta say, watching you from this angle is the closest thing I’ve ever seen to heaven.”

“Good answer.” He chuckled, letting his hand slip down to your chest. Before he could even try to hold you, you grabbed his hand and pushed it against the bed, holding it there.

It finally clicked in Colson’s head as he saw the sweater you were wearing earlier that morning hung up behind the door. You had barely let him touch you today after he filmed that stupid tiktok. Oh fuck no, this wasn’t gonna happen on his watch. 

He sat up with you still in his lap and grabbed both of your hands. “What are you doing, y/n?” His tone and the use of your name and not a pet name stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m fucking my boyfriend, what are you doing?” You asked, not understanding what he was on about. 

“You’re not letting me touch you.” You looked down at your hands in his and raised your brows at him. “No,” he paused, placing both your hands in his left one and reaching towards your chest, “you’re not letting me touch you.” He squeezed your left breast causing you to gasp and arch your back. “Every time I get close, you push me away.”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t lie.” He shook his head disappointedly. “You know that video was a joke, right? I can delete it right fucking now if you want me to.”

“Colson, it’s not about that-” You started.

“Then what is it about?” He raised his brows at you. “You’re not letting me enjoy what’s mine.” He pinched your nipple hard and watched as you arched your back again. “You are mine. And I like to enjoy what's mine. These are mine. I like to kiss them,” he leaned down to do just that, “I like to bite them,” he gently nipped against the soft skin of your breast. “And I fucking love marking them.” He sucked a spot right next to your nipple, pulling away only when he was sure it would be dark enough to show. “Don’t stop me from enjoying what’s mine, you understand?”

“Yes sir.” You nodded, wrists still held in his left hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t about the video, I promise.”

“Shh,” he pressed his lips against yours to silence you, “we’ll talk about it later. We’re not having any important conversations when you’re squeezing my dick like that, sweetheart.”

“Like,” you paused to clench your inner walls, “that?”

“Oh fuck!” Colson choked out, thrusting his hips up roughly. “Darling, I think you should let me handle this now.”

“I’m all yours,” you breathed.

As soon as the words left your mouth, Colson let himself go. He didn’t even bother flipping you over, he just took control with you on top. He grabbed you by the hips and simply used you.

You tried to sneak your hand down to give your sweet spot some attention, but Colson’s growl stopped you. “Be patient, baby.”

The thrusts were no longer consistent as his hips stuttered, telling you that he was close. “Colson,” you whined, “please.”

He paused and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw how wrecked you looked. Tears leaving black trails of watery mascara down your cheeks, and lipstick smeared to one side, probably because of how he flipped you over that first time. He could see how desperate you were and he wanted to be the solution. He needed to be the solution.

Reaching down slowly, taking his time trailing your body as he went, Colson circled his finger against your clit and began to thrust ever so slowly. It took so much effort to maintain his slow pace, but anything was worth it when it came to you. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He asked as he focused on your blissed out face. “Beautiful and mine. All mine.”

“Yours,” you nodded as you squeezed your eyes shut. “So close, Colson. I’m so-”

“Let go for me, baby.”

With a high pitched moan, you let go. You spasmed on his cock, milking it and making it incredibly difficult for him not to blow his load right then and there.

As you started to wilt against him, you felt him slowly pulling out of you. “But you-”

“Wanna- Oh fuck… Wanna come on your tits.” He groaned, pumping himself as soon as he was out of you. You quickly laid down on the bed and pushed out your chest. He brought his knees to either side of waist and placed the hand that wasn’t working his cock around your throat. “Mine.”

“Yours.” You gasped. With a few more pumps, his head was rolling back and he was painting your chest.

He panted heavily as he came down from his high, eyes still tightly closed. When he finally opened them, he smiled lazily. “Look at you, covered in my load. So pretty, baby.” He reached down and rubbed the seed into your skin and against your nipples. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your forehead and sagged against you for a moment.

After his breather, he sat back up and headed to the bathroom, tossing a ‘be right back’ over his shoulder. You were left alone in the bedroom for a minute, hearing the water running in the bathroom reminding you that you need to pee.

You weren’t entirely sure where the sudden insecurity came from tonight. Not that you weren’t ever insecure about your body, but never during sex and definitely never with Colson. You sat up on the bed and stared at the open bathroom door where your boyfriend was. He had only ever made you feel loved and gorgeous. Maybe his obvious acknowledgment to your lack of cup size did make you question. Question your worthiness of him. He was obviously well endowed, and most people knew that. You chuckled lightly as you remembered the stupid cock sock.

Maybe it made you feel a little less than, you thought as you walked towards the bathroom. You walked in and let your fingers trail against Colson’s shoulder as you passed him at the sink to do your business.

You watched him as he grabbed a towel and ran it under the warm water. You quickly finished and sat on the bathroom counter in front of him. He slowly wiped away at your chest with the damp cloth, being gentle against the soft skin. 

But here he is. Caring for you. Loving on you. Loving you. You almost laughed out loud at yourself for questioning his love or your worthiness when he was so obviously devoted to you of his own accord. 

“I love you.” You broke the silence.

“I love you, too.” Colson looked up at you, slightly shocked and confused. You had both already said the ‘L-word’ a while ago, but you usually kept the love confessions in dark rooms and not in the harsh bathroom light. “Was I too-”

“No.” You shook your head as he reached for your pack of makeup wipes behind you. “No, you always take care of me so well.”

You went quiet again, before you opened your mouth to speak at the same time that he did. He paused and waited for you to speak, but when you didn’t, he started again.

“If that video bothered you, you should have told me y/n. I’m sorry I made you feel insecure, but next time you gotta tell me before it escalates.” He spoke softly as he pulled a wipe out of the pack and cleaned up your face. “I love you. That includes every part of you.”

“I’m sorry, I promise it wasn’t the stupid video. It was actually really funny.” You chuckled. “I don’t know what hit me. When I was getting ready before you came, I just looked down at my drawer and felt so stupid. I felt like I was pretending to be sexy for you. Like- Like I was convincing myself all this time that this turned you on when there’s no way it could.” He opened his mouth but you looked at him and he paused. “But I know that that isn’t true. And I’m sorry for doing that back there.”

“I swear to god y/n, if you apologize one more time-”

You laughed, placing your hand on his chest. “I’m so- I’m not! I’m not sorry!”

“You aren’t,” he nodded, his eyes meeting yours so that you knew he was being serious, “because you have nothing to be sorry for. And I know that if I apologize again, this is never gonna end. I love you, and you are so sexy, and I am the world’s luckiest man because you’re all mine.”

“Yeah, you are.” You giggled and smiled as he rolled his eyes. 

[ginemrys]

You still taking prompts? If so i have one for you! :D

a mix of strict person A “you’re late” and sleepy person B “i’m too tired to argue can we just get this over with”

cant wait to see what you make! 💕

Yes!!! Thank you so much for sending this in, I knew just what to do as soon as I saw your prompt!! I hope you like it <3 (plus I had to add a little sprinkling of Shirtless James since it's the last day of May ;D)

Stumbling into the house at four in the morning was not exactly what James Potter had in mind, but it had been a rough night. It was supposed to just be a simple scouting mission, no duels, no combat. All had been going to plan before Peter had sneezed. A sneeze that revealed the two of them to ten Death Eaters. Ten Death Eaters that they had been spying on.

Of course there were other Order members on hand to help, but it had taken some quick thinking from James to avoid the nine stunning spells that had been thrown at him and Peter, not to forget the one green burst of light that had come from the ever pleasant Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand.

They’d survived however, relatively unscathed. James winced as he felt a twinge in his ribs where he’d been hit with a curse even Sirius hadn’t heard of. Kingsley had checked him over and decided that after a quick potion James would be fine, but needed to rest. He pressed a hand to his abdomen as he climbed the stairs as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Lily.

She hated when he was on missions without her, as much as he hated it when their roles were reversed. But his wife had a tendency to get annoyed with James, just like how he had a tendency to take risks. More often than not, he came home with a cut or some broken bone that needed healing. With any luck, Lily would be fast asleep.

“You’re late.”

Shit.

There she was, sitting upright in bed, a book on her lap with her arms crossed. She wasn’t mad. She was furious. There was a blush on her cheeks that he recognised, the kind that appeared whenever Lily was so angry about something that she couldn’t help but yell at him. He’d been well acquainted with such a look at school, particularly during their fifth year. But it had been a while since she’d gotten to the point of her fists being clenched tightly as she looked at him.

With a sigh, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m too tired to argue, so can we just get this over with?”

“You said you would be back around midnight.” Lily said, her voice harsh and biting. “It’s four in the fucking morning, Potter!”

He was only ever Potter when she was mad at him, or when he was being a cheeky bastard in bed. Naturally this was the former.

“Pete sneezed. He didn’t mention he had a cold and he sneezed and they saw us.” James replied, not looking at her as he unlaced his boots. “I didn’t have time to send a patronus, Evans, you know I would hav-”

“Please, when have you ever sent a patronus to tell me you’ll be late?” She snapped, her words cutting over his.

“Every full moon, Lily!” James shot back, still avoiding her eye. If he looked at her, he’d burst. “Every full moon I send Prongs to you to let you know when Remus is back, when I’ll be on my way home. I didn’t have time when we had ten Death Eaters shooting curses at us to think of a happy memory.”

“You still-”

“-All I could think about was getting back to you, making sure I’d come home in one piece, or at all.” He ignored her interruption this time, sure he’d regret it in a moment. “You were all that was on my mind while I tried to fend off those bastards because I didn’t want- Ah!”

He’d moved too quickly, trying to pull his jumper over his head. But he’d been so wrapped up in explaining that he’d forgotten about his ribs. The jumper fell to the floor as he cried out, his hand pressing to the thin red line that ran across his chest.

“James…” Lily breathed, her warm fingers brushing over the mark, sending shivers down James’ spine. “What spell?”

“Dunno, it was purple.” He shrugged, wincing again.

“Stop moving, dummy.” She gently hit his shoulder before grabbing her wand, crawling down the bed to get a better look at the injury. “Fucking Snape.” She whispered, shaking her head.

“His spell?”

“Yep. Lie down for me, babe.”

He did as she asked, a smile forming on his lips at how gentle and tender she was being. His eyes closed as he felt her magic working, a warm sensation flooding through his torso as bits of him knitted back together internally.

“Merlin…”

A pair of lips pressed against his ribs and James’ eyes opened. She was hovering over him now, her long auburn hair falling around them like a curtain.

“Better?” She asked, her fingers brushing over his cheek now.

“Much.” He smiled, his own hand lifting to tuck some hair behind her ear. “I’m really sorry I didn’t get a message to you, Lil. I promise I didn’t have time.”

“I know, I’m sorry for getting so mad. I’m just a little hormonal at the moment, pregnancy is a funny thing.”

“Yeah,” He said, closing his eyes again for a moment as he settled back against the bedsheets. A few seconds ticked by before they flew open, his jaw dropped. Lily was giggling above him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “You’re-?”

“Yes, James. We’re having a baby.”

[4dtk]

NCT 127: finding out you're older than them

“Hey, can I request an NCT127 reaction to finding out you're actually older than them when they thought you were much younger than them? (like you look really young despite your age lol)” thank u for waiting honey <3 ps i just used random years that are older than the members!

enjoy! this was fun to write ^^

→ TAEIL would have his mouth in an ‘O’, but more of a ‘ooh cool!’ way where he’s nodding repeatedly to nothing seconds after you’ve spilled the beans. it sinks in more later when he thinks of your birth years side by side and he’s like omg! i’m finally not the oldest and it garners a laugh out of you that you don’t mind being called old by him. honestly, you don’t mind being called old at all by the other members, since technically you are taeil’s s/o. the members are closer to the male, so when they call him old, you join in lol

“woah hyung/noona! i can’t believe you now take the place of oldest in our group,” mark says, although gets a smack from haechan for saying that.

“ack! sorry taeil-hyung and (y/n)-hyung/(y/n)-noona, mark’s mouth is a little big today.”

taeil waves it off, curling an arm around your waist to bring you closer as mark avoids eye contact. slowly the members crowd around the four of you, interested in the topic that’s taking place. it was well over 11pm in the practice room, and having just ended dance practice, they cooled down by taking part in the conversation.

“yeah! you finally can call someone else old!” another smack and a whine from mark accompanied by an apologetic look that wasn’t seen often on donghyuck.

“i’m sorry for them,” taeil whispers with a laugh, placing a kiss onto your cheek before taking a swig of water from his bottle. he takes your shaking head as acceptance of your new position of the oldest, pleased when you return his kiss with one to his lips.

→ JOHNNY is the one to pull a dramatic face lol. you know the one where his mouth is in a ‘O’ and his eyebrows are knitted. the expression is playful, but there’s a bit of genuine shock behind it. recovers from it quickly tho and jokingly calls you ‘daddy/mommy’ to annoy you. i can see him calling you the term later if you get married or have kids though, just in a third person kinda way - something like a running joke from when he discovered you were older years ago.

“no way, you’re born in 1992?” his jaw is dropped, eyes wide that makes you smile just a little, “holy shit you’re old,” there’s a fit of laughter when your hand lands on his back as a form of retaliation (“like you’re not!”), but you agree either way, shrugging nonchalantly at the year of birth.

“then maybe now i can call you daddy/mommy,” you groan at that, shoving him for real now as he lands on the sofa behind him and doyoung at the dining table contemplates whether he should interfere. he decides not to when you full on attack your boyfriend, although with half-assed punches as johnny continues to moan out theatrically in between attacks, “but for real though, next time, i wanna hear voices calling you.”

“the fuck? you mean in like a horror movie way?”

“nah, in the i wanna have a family way.” you gulp with a surprised expression and you launch a badly timed attack that hits him in the balls. you’re apologising with a fluster, johnny is groaning in pain. oh well, this could be story to tell your kids or adopted babies next time.

→ TAEYONG is making surprised noises. it’s so cute lol that you’re the one ending up teasing him about it. taeyong forgets it sometimes, so you have the pleasure of seeing him react like a couple of times bc it finally settles in his mind that you’re older than him. other than that, yong loves you all the same and sometimes acts like a baby just so you’d cave and take care of him. he argues that it’s only the right way! older s/o? you take care of me! i want to be babied.

“huh? you’re older than me?” taeyong asks, mindlessly digging through your stuff until he comes across your ID. he curiously sifts through the information on it, but the number of your birth year seemed to stand out the most.

you hum, placing the last bits of your mask on yourself as you turn back to your boyfriend with a similar look: hair band pushing his dyed hair back, with a mask like yours on his face.

a noise of approval spills from taeyong’s mouth, and you’re left giggling in confusion until he explains his reason for it. you nod through it, happy to give your boyfriend what he wants while he takes his place in your arms. “feels nice,” taeyong mumbles, loving the way you’re playing with his fingers before he asks a question with a small voice. “can we do this more often?”

“of course,” and now you’re glad for taeyong’s curiosity of your things, presenting you with the opportunity (and excuse) to hold your lover in your arms.

→ YUTA doesn’t care either tbh. he may be one of the ones to figure it out before the others - how? you don’t know either but i have a feeling he might’ve taken a look at your ID or something along those lines. mans just nods at the year. as long as you’re still yourself and don’t change how you act in the relationship obvi bc he’s dating you bc of how you’ve presented yourself so far. it’ll feel weird if you suddenly start to dote on him just because you’re older. still likes to take care of you <3

“hey babe? were you born in 1993?” yuta inquires one day at dinner, the whole table of members somehow going a little quiet at the revelation.

“mhm! how’d you know?” you tilted your head, placing a piece of fish into your mouth and ignoring the shocked faces on the faces of the different members.

“eehh- i just saw it on your ID accidentally the other day,” yuta smiles when wiggle your mouth around to feel for the fish’s bone, finally able to shoot your boyfriend a smile as you both go back to your dinner. your laugh is the one thing that’s heard across the table and the occasional clinks of chopsticks against porcelain, and you’re confident if you were on a sitcom, the camera would just have all the members staring into it in shock.

“is it that surprising?” you asked the members, some of them waving their hands and shaking their head, knowing that yuta would probably take it up to them if they happen to have a problem with it.

“so i actually needed to call you hyung/noona?! i’m so sorry!!!” mark exclaims, earning a giggle from you.

→ DOYOUNG would react a little intensely too, but more in a starstruck, quiet kind of way. he just has this wide eyed look that make you burst out in laughter at the discovery and his lips are making a funny shape. he nods it off calm and cooly, but inside he’s like oh my god wtf really???? why didn’t i know this holy shit are they going to leave me for not knowing you can see no thought behind his eyes but you know the man’s spiralling a little inside that you have to reassure him that it’s just a minor thing (he gets out of the dump pretty quickly). your age reveal doesn’t affect him much either.

“you’re- you’re older than me?” doyoung’s mouth dries, coffee cup hovering just below his lips as you drop the bomb without much care. it’s quiet in the early morning, having had just finished filming his relay cam, but you can practically hear doyoung’s thoughts. he’s brought of it when you place a hand on his wrist.

“babe, baby, it’s okay. i didn’t tell you anyway, don’t worry about it,” your smile is blinding, and it has doyoung smiling as well, agreeing along to your reasoning and slowly easing into his previous action of drinking his beverage before he halts again.

your head tilts in question. “what is it?”

your boyfriend waves it off with a shy smile, bringing your hand to his lips as he lands a kiss on the skin there, “nothing. just thinking about how much i love you.”

“did it change?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks when he says it, glad for the two of you being in the only ones awake. “no, not one bit.”

→ JAEHYUN would one way or another kind of know already, although he’s not 100% sure. he’s observant, sometimes content with watching you take care of the other members (poor guy gets jealous tho) or just cleaning up after him when he’s a little too tired to do things - like wash his hair and what not. even if you’re not a naturally ‘taking care of others’ person, jaehyun picks up on the things that he’s heard his friends talk about regarding their older siblings (since he’s an only child) or compares to how you act around the group that’s similar to taeyong or doyoung. i can see jaehyun being a little disappointed, but it doesn’t change much as long as he can keep the dynamic of the relationship (so him giving the affection with you in his embrace). jaehyun is a quiet kind of shock like doyoung.

“huh… you’re born in 1994?”

“sure am,” you’re filling out a form for a membership, pen scribbling with swiftness in order not to hold up the line. you pass it back in a minute as the cashier processes your membership, and you feel jaehyun squeeze your hand. “why, why? is it an issue?” you mumble a thank you to the cashier, heading out of the store hand in hand while you find a spot to talk to your boyfriend.

“no no,” jaehyun giggles, a low one that makes your heart flutter, and he leans down to place a kiss onto your lips. it lingers there longer than you expected and you feel his smile on your lips. “there’s no issue. it just kinda adds up, in a way. you’re such a natural at giving advice and taking care of the other members. i’m just… a little surprised, is all.”

you laugh at that, meeting his lips again in a loving peck, “okay, that’s good then!”

→ JUNGWOO says “woowww!” like video game commentary and claps. yes he claps, you’re not sure why either but he’s just so thrilled to learn of your birth year that he just nods along and gives you a thumb-up after. i can’t say he’ll be that shocked, more of like happy for you like you just told him you passed a test or something. when you ask him about it, he just shrugs and pats you on the back. it’s all part of his personality, though, and like taeyong/yuta, he wouldn’t care much apart from being able to call you ‘sunbaenim’ as a joke. sometimes calls you senpai LMAO

“woah, you’re older than me by four years?” jungwoo mumbles when you show him your old IDs, the topic of your birth year overriding the original goal of wanting to see your foetus pictures.

“hm? oh yeah, i guess i never really mentioned it, huh?” you continue with what you were doing, cleaning up the stray hairs sticking out from your hairdo before jungwoo comes back hugging with his long limbs and silky outfit.

“congrats!” he meets your eyes through the vanity mirror and proceeds to peck your cheek and your expression that follows next brings laughter to jungwoo’s chest. you can feel it move from behind you, hoping he wouldn’t mess up the hour you spent on your hair. “why congrats?” your lip is curled with a raise of your eyebrows as your boyfriend continues to hang off your shoulders.

he thinks, then replies with a dunno and leaves the area to settle back on the bed. the snap of his camera follows next, no doubt taking pictures of the serious face shots of your old ID cards.

→ MARK would be one of the ones that you think is over exaggerating, except he’s just that shocked. he would stumble over his words and texting johnny or whoever to tell him and be like “yoooo? huh? what?” mark would probably be the last one to make the connection and johnny is all like “yeah? u didn’t know?” and mark is like “HOW WOULD I KNOW THEY LOOK SO YOUNG?????!!” hysterical, this man. mark almost doesn’t believe it for a second and you have to take out your ID to show him lmfao

mark’s head snaps to you once he overhears you in conversation with the flyer distributor, catching your attention with something that was in line with your interests. mark tunes out the promoter explaining the features of the product, only coming back to earth when you mention your date of birth for a trial of their services.

“you’re WHAT? nah. no. no way, show me your ID.”

the other jumps back at the sudden exclamation while you just raise an eyebrow. sorry, excuse him, you mumble, and you’re dragging mark off to the side as you fumble in your bag to pull out your ID in exasperation. the timing is imperfectly perfect: mark bends down to inspect your birth year, you flip open the wallet a little too hard, it hits his head in a loud thwack!

“ow.” mark giggles, squinting his eyes to finally make out the fading ‘1998’ on your card, “oh! so the same as jungwoo hyung?” he giggles again, “he finally as someone to talk to!”

→ HAECHAN is shocked but would immediately mask it and go like “oh my! still so pretty, miss halmeoni,” he coos and you’re so ready to smack him. in a way acts like johnny but will not stop using the word on a daily basis (unless you tell him that you don’t like it). it becomes part of the pet names that he calls you, but he still likes the classic baby/honey/love. sometimes also like to whine with hyung/noona if he wants something, like a new video game or for you to buy food for him. other than that, haechan is pretty indifferent about you being older than him.

“hah?! you’re born in 1999?” haechan has his neck stuck out like a fish out of water, not posing that much difference since he’s just finished a shower. you make the bed with deftness, tucking in the duvet easily as your boyfriend approaches from behind.

he’s shocked, but before you can comment on it, he recovers quickly to deliver a quip through his toothpaste-filled mouth, “oh my! halmeoni, then you should take a seat!” your hands are on your hips, glaring at him while he only grins.

you indulge him, though, and take a seat on the newly made bed, relaxing into the softness of the sheets with elbows.

“if i’m considered elderly, then, you can do the housework for me, right?” the dread that slowly fills up haechan’s features make you explode into giggles, before pushing yourself up to come face to face with him.

“thought so,” you whispered, petting his head as you continue the clean-up of the room.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Angel’s Touch (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my long overdue contribution to @rosepetals-flyingbirds‘ challenge. I’m sorry it took me so long, babe 💖 I’ve been going through a lot lately (including the loss of a loved one) and I wasn’t in the mood to write 😔

The prompt, as usual, is in bold.

Thanks to the lovely @geekandbooknerd for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

The gif belongs to @therealcalicali 💐

Summary: Ivar's always been very secretive when it comes to his legs. How is he going to react when you tell him you want to know all of him?

Warnings: angst; fluff at the end; Ivar’s insecurities; soft and vulnerable Ivar.

Words: 4600

"I'm coming!" you shout enthusiastically, wrapping a soft towel around your body before closing the bathroom door behind you. 

 Wincing at your words, Ivar hastily hides his legs under the comforter. "That was a close one…", he mumbles while breathing a sigh of relief. Deep down, he knows he's not doing the right thing. Avoiding the problem will not make it go away.

 He can't help himself, though. He still has nightmares about that awful night with Margrethe. It was years ago, yet memories of her disgusted look as well as her eyes full of pity still haunt his nights, vivid and humiliating. 

He doesn't want to go through that again. It would be unbearable and painful, much worse than the dull ache he's used to enduring every day. No, he definitely can't relive it. Shuddering at this thought, Ivar squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists tight. 

 He won't allow it. He can't. Because he's not sure he can get over it again. After Margrethe, he had been broken – more broken than his broken bones – for so long. It had taken him years of therapy to stop being disgusted by himself, to stop hating himself for what he was. A freak. It had taken him years to endure looking at himself in a mirror. And it had taken him years to imagine sharing a bed with a woman again. 

 Oh, of course, he had fucked every so often. He needed it after the complete fiasco with Margrethe. He had to prove himself that he could… But it had always been in a hurry, and with random, uninteresting women. Till you…

 You. You're not random, and definitely not uninteresting. You're beautiful and smart, patient and funny, warmhearted and caring but never overbearing. You're… perfect, he thinks, and it scares him as much as it makes him shiver with excitement. On top of that, so far you don't seem bothered by his legs and he wants to keep it that way. 

 His legs. His fucking legs. The averted elephant in the room. Well, averted… more or less. Because if you've never seen them, you know the braces, the crutches, the uneven gait and he's pretty sure you've figured out his pain. But you two never talk about them. He knows that you understood from the beginning that they were, they are a major issue for him. You're smart enough for that. 

 Yet, you never bring them up and he couldn't be more grateful. He's very aware that he can't keep going like this for long. But he doesn't know how to address what is, to him, a huge matter of concern. He's afraid you'll go away as soon as you realize how damaged his legs are, how crippled he really is. He doesn't want to lose you. He can't. That would be insufferable. And he knows exactly why. It's not just that he likes you, that sex is great, and that you're fun to be around, no… He's helplessly falling in love with you. It may be terrifying, but it's no less true.

 That's why he does what he does. That's why he's always hurrying up, hiding, avoiding. It doesn't matter if it leads sometimes to awkward situations. It doesn't matter if you're not fooled. All that matters is that you don't see his legs; not for a long time anyway; and most preferably never.

 Inhaling deeply, Ivar slips his hands under the comforter, rubs his scrawny, bony, twisted thighs, feeling their scarred skin and grunting in disgust. He knows he's wrong, he knows he's not going anywhere, but he can't help. He can't risk losing you. 

 ***

 More sad than irritated, you hardly stifle a sigh as you enter the room. Once again, Ivar is unsurprisingly already in bed, his fluffy comforter keeping his legs out of sight. 

 His legs… A fucking huge elephant in the room… It's amazing – not in a good way – how something that's never addressed can take up so much space.  

 The truth is, you know a lot about them. Being a son of Ragnar, the man who rules Scandinavia – at least economically but surely politically too, with friends in the right places and enough money to corrupt them – didn't allow Ivar to grow up in the shadow. Ivar's life therefore has always been on display, making headlines more often than not. So you know about his disease and its inherent struggles, about the surgeries and about the pain – well, now you even witness it sometimes, and the way he always tries to hide it is heartwrenching. 

 You know more than you'd like to since you even know about his supposed failing sex life, that bitch whose name you've long forgotten having told her story to everyone around. It doesn't matter though, as you can testify that Ivar's cock is far from dysfunctional. 

 Anyway, if you know a lot – truths or lies – about his condition and about his legs, you don't know them. And you're aware it has to change. You just don't know how. You can't be too straightforward or Ivar will close up on you. Yet you can't let things go on like this for too long, because it's unhealthy. And an unhealthy relationship with Ivar is the last thing you want, both for his and your sake. 

 Somehow always in your mind, his legs make things awkward. Sex is great, but could even be better, for they prevent you from being spontaneous. The last thing you want is to make Ivar, the man you're falling in love with, uncomfortable. So, you don't speak about them because you can feel he doesn't want to speak about them. You don't look at them because his tight jaw is unmistakable each time your eyes wander to his lower body. You do your best never to touch them, which isn't easy when you share his bed. In short, most of the time you act as if they don't exist. And this has got to stop. 

 You can't let this unspoken thing continue to grow between the two of you or it will end up becoming a problem that will eat you up, you do know it with utmost certainty. You won't allow it. You can't. Ivar is important to you, to say the least, and you're pretty sure he reciprocates your feelings. You see it in his huge blue eyes that sparkle each time he looks at you; you hear it in the softness of his tone each time he talks to you. 

 So yeah, the whole situation annoys you. It doesn't mean that his legs annoy you. They don't. You won't lie, you're a little nervous about them. How could you not, given how sensitive a subject they are? Will you say the right thing? Do the right thing? Will you hurt Ivar unwillingly? Just thinking about it, about them, makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells. Ivar is being very touchy when it comes to them, to those-legs-we-mustn't-talk-about, it seems to you that the slightest word could ruin everything. And you don't want that. Gods, you don't. Yet, you're not sure how to handle well something that important.

  That's the point. His legs are that important. They shouldn't be. They shouldn't matter. They don't matter. Of course, you're not stupid. Ivar has a disability, there's no denying it. But it doesn't define him, right? What defines him is his outstanding intelligence, his sharp mind, and his deadpan, ironic humour. And well, if you're being honest, his ridiculous handsomeness too… It might sound shallow, but… who cares?  

 Anyway, enough is enough. Things must change and you're sure Ivar won't be the one initiating the change. It leaves you no choice, you know it. Your heart hammering in your chest, you rub your sweaty palms together before inhaling deeply. That's it. Let it be done. The sooner the better.  

 ***

 "Are you not coming?" Ivar's blue eyes are scrutinizing you from under furrowed brows as you scrabble around in your small overnight bag, as an idea has just popped into your head.

 Glancing at him over your shoulder, you barely nod while swallowing the lump in your throat. "Of course I am, give me a minute." You reply after a while, sounding more confident than you feel. But you know it's a good idea. It could be the first step. It could work. It has to work. 

 Your hands are shaking but your heart is filled with hope when you eventually find what you were looking for. "Here it is.", you mutter, a tentative smile playing on your lips as you turn towards your lover, who looks at the silk scarf in your hand with a mischievous grin. 

 "What is it on your naughty mind?" He asks playfully, tilting his head in his very own way, the one that melts your heart each and every time. "You want to blindfold me, Y/N?" His low, deep voice sends shivers down your spine. "Or maybe you'd rather be blindfolded? It's up to you, I'm totally on board with either one." He swallows heavily, and when he licks his upper lip and then the lower in a slow-moving and sensual motion, a familiar warmth spreads in your lower belly. 

  Of course, he had to misread the situation. And you, you're so easily, pathetically flustered! Closing your eyes to push away any distracting thoughts, you inhale deeply while just shaking your head no as you don't trust yourself to speak right now. 

 Raising a brow, Ivar gives you a questioning look. "So, what is it about, then?" His tone is more serious now, you can almost feel a hint of uneasiness in his voice as if a part of his brain already suspects what's in your mind. 

 "Actually, I want to be blindfolded, but not to do what you're thinking about." You explain, shyly lowering your gaze. "I'd like to try something." You speak in a whisper but with honesty, fidgeting with the little silver Mjölnir – a gift from Ivar – you wear around your neck. "If it's okay with you." You add, your shaky voice giving away your nervousness. 

 Confused, Ivar looks at you with knitted brows. Since you don't want to explain further – because you're sure that if you told him of your plan, he would deny you – you just climb on the bed, kneel next to him and bring the scarf to your face, wrapping it around your head and over your eyes before tying it in the back with a tight knot. 

 Being blinded like that, even if it's of your own volition, is quite unsettling, you must say. You feel weirdly exposed, vulnerable, in your tiny shorts and a tank top and you have to inhale and exhale slowly several times in order to calm your nerves. 

 Uncertain, Ivar keeps quiet, his breathing just a little bit shorter than usual. "Y/N?" His hesitant voice startles you and you swallow, biting your inner cheek. 

 You know you have to take action, the sooner the better. So you fumble blindly on the bed and as you find Ivar's hand, you bring it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one after the other while your free hand slips under the comforter. 

 His breath hitches, yet Ivar doesn't react, doesn't stop you, as you slowly lift the comforter, pulling it away. But when your fingers graze what you think is his thigh, he grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. 

 "What…" Ivar stutters, his grip tight enough to bruise your delicate skin, "… What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice, barely audible, is nothing more than a shaky whisper that wrings your heart. 

 Yet, you won't back down. "Let me, Ivar, please…" You beg softly, but to no avail. Ivar rushes his words, panic coursing through his veins. "Stop Y/N! Don't, please don't, I… They are… They are ugly. I… I can't." That's it. He can't. Just thinking of you exposing his disgusting legs, he feels like throwing up. He can't. 

 Hearing your lover so upset, and maybe even close to tears, is heartbreaking. Raising your free hand, you find his arm, then his shoulder, his neck, and finally his face, which you cup tenderly. 

 "You do know I won't see them, don't you?" You ask carefully, peppering light kisses along his jaw while trying to slow down the frantic pace of your own heart. 

 Ivar doesn't miss a beat, pushing you away gently but very firmly. "You don't need your sight to feel how hideous they are." Almost convinced to give up by his broken voice, you struggle to keep in mind that postponing the problem can't be a solution. 

 "That's what you think about them, how you see them, Ivar, that's not what they are." Your tone soft and soothing, you're trying to convey how much you care. "And it's certainly not how I'm going to see or to feel them."

 "How would you know?" You can tell that he shifts in the bed to sit upright, his back against the headboard. His fingers still around your wrist, you have to stifle a hiss of pain when he changes position. 

 "Because they are a part of you. Nothing from you, or about you, can be ugly." You wince, realizing that you've just opened up to him more than you would have liked. But well, speaking your mind isn't a bad thing, right? 

 As Ivar, dumbstruck, keeps quiet, you decide to strike the iron while it's hot. Once again finding his cheek, your thumb lightly strokes it while you speak. "Let me touch them, Ivar…"

 You know him well enough to be sure that right now, a storm is clouding his features. But as his breathing starts to quicken and as his grip on your wrist loosens, you understand that he's more frightened than angry. "Please…" You plead, aiming blindly a reassuring smile in his direction. 

 "But… Wh… Why?" He's never felt so scared, not even with Margrethe. Even if the rational part of him knows you're right, he won't give up yet, not without fighting. "Why… Why does it have to be? You don't need to touch those fucking…", swallowing, he closes his eyes briefly, "… you don't need to touch my legs, Y/N. You don't. We could just go on like this, as we have done up to now. Believe me, it will be better like that."

 "No, it won't." You sigh, shaking your head. Ivar's distress may break your heart, yet you're more and more convinced that this is the right thing to do. "Let me touch them, Ivar, please…" You simply repeat, your free hand still on his cheek.

 "Why… Why is it so important to you?" As soon as the words escape his lips, he regrets them, wishes he could take them back. He should have said no. Why didn't he say no? Slapping himself internally, he rolls his eyes, annoyed as much by his own stupidity as by your stubbornness. 

 You answer in a sweet whisper, placing your hand on his chest. He's sure you can feel the crazy thumping of his heart under your palm. "Because your legs are a part of you, and I want to know everything about you. Will you let me, Ivar?"

 Ivar, deeply moved by your words, is eager to believe them. But on the other hand, it's so… frightening; unsettling. Not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone, he feels like he's being ripped apart, and gods, he hates it! "I… I don't know… I'm… not sure…" He eventually stammers almost unwillingly, more or less denying you once more, yet his resolution starts to falter, and he knows you can hear it. 

 Even more surprising, it's as if his body betrayed him, his fingers finally releasing your wrist. As you gasp, astonished and pleased, he ponders for a few moments before deciding – if deciding something against what seems to be your own will is even a thing – he won't stop you. He knows he could, but he also knows you're right. So, conflicted and petrified with fear, he just waves his hand, wiggling his fingers, and mumbles under his breath a faint "go ahead" that you almost miss.

 "Is that a 'yes', Ivar?" Full of hope and with what you're sure is a beaming smile on your lips, you intertwine your fidgeting fingers and put your hands on your lap, anxiously awaiting his reply. 

 His jaw clenched, Ivar just nods. At first, he doesn't realize that you can't see him. As the silence drags on, he furrows his brows, confused, before breathing a hesitant answer. "Yeahhh…" Digging his fingernails into his palms, he waits for your next move, almost like someone awaiting a death sentence.

 Sensing his anxiousness, you raise your hands and then move them very slowly, willing to give Ivar time to stop you if he needs to. Since he doesn't utter a word nor grab your wrists, you keep going, your fingers grazing what surely is his lower belly before finding the hem of his cotton boxer shorts. 

 Intensely aware of the importance of the moment, you can't help but swallow loudly, your stomach tied in knots. You started all this, and even if you're still not sure if it's the right time – will there ever be a right time for this? – you have to keep going. But you're scared. What if it'll push Ivar over the edge? What if it is too much for him? What if you won't handle this as well as you think you will? You don't want to lose him. Your mind suddenly filled with doubts, you do the only thing you can think of, and send a silent prayer to the gods, hoping they can help the two of you. 

 Holding his breath, Ivar looks at your hands as if he was hypnotized. His eyes wide open, he can't move, can't speak, utterly terrified of what is to come. He knows he should trust you. Maybe he does. But he doesn't trust himself. No, that's not true. Most of the time, Ivar doesn't lack self-confidence. He knows his worth. He's aware of the strength of his intelligence, his cunning. He knows about his good looks – even if they're quite useless; or about his highly appreciated caustic humour. And as he's no fool, he knows that being a Ragnarsson – name, wealth, all the stuff – is a major asset. Yet, when it comes to his legs, he's nothing more than a frightened little boy, so anxious that he's ready to fall apart. Feeling ashamed, self-conscious, and helpless, he's wondering how much tenser he can become until he physically shatters. Conflicted, he wants you to stop as well as he wants you to keep going. This has to be done. This should never be done. He's in love with you. You will never love him. You won't hurt him. He'll be hurt once again. Hectic, opposing thoughts are constantly fighting in his mind, leaving him frozen in fear and panicked. So, since he can't think straight, he does the only thing he can think of and sends a silent prayer to the gods. May they help him; help you. 

 Uselessly closing your eyes behind the blindfold, you gather your strength. Ivar didn't stop you. That's good. That means he wants you to do it, right? Inhaling deeply, you try to stop the shaking in your hands, and then, slightly leaning forward, you let your fingertips run over his thighs, barely touching them. You forget how to breathe and Ivar is so still, so quiet, you think he's not breathing either. 

 As you become bolder, you place the flat of your hands on his legs, careful not to apply any pressure. Under your palms, you can feel every bump, every scar, every broken bone. Your movements intentionally agonizingly slow, your hands move down to his protruding knee caps before finding his atrophied calves, their wasted muscles evident to the touch. You can't think how painful walking, or even just standing up, must be. The thought spreads a dull ache in your chest, but you keep your face emotionless, aware that if you can't see him, Ivar can see you. Rather than dwelling on it, you continue exploring, and when your fingers brush against the sole of one of his misshaped, scrawny feet, Ivar flinches. "Sorry," you mumble, "I didn't know you were ticklish." Since Ivar doesn't react, you're not sure he heard you and decide to slowly move your hands up his legs, placing them back on his bony thighs. 

 Keeping his eyes on you the whole time, Ivar struggles to breathe, his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage. He's surprised, he must say. He expected to see disgust or pity on your face, but there's none of that. Of course, he can't see your eyes, but a small smile never leaves your lips. Could it be that you're not disgusted? In any case, you don't seem troubled by what you're feeling. Maybe you're hiding it, but if so, you're hiding it well. He's also surprised because he expected to hate every moment of the process. Himself, he's all the time trying to avoid touching his legs. He hates PT sessions and doctor's appointments with a passion for a reason. But your touch is… enjoyable if he can push away all his doubts and his awful thoughts. It strikes him all of a sudden: it's probably the first time someone touches his legs for no reason at all. They were regularly massaged, checked for injuries, examined, palpated; of course, they were. But there was always a medical reason. Even when his mother touched them, it was to ease the pain. But you… you decided to touch his ugly limbs just because you wanted to. And just now, he realizes how much he missed that. Can he really miss something he's never known? He's not sure, but here he is, enjoying your featherlike touch, craving it, not wanting it to stop. Yes, he likes it; needs it. But what if, after tonight, you don't want to touch them again? He wouldn't blame you, who would want to touch such repulsive things? The thought brings bile to his throat and he knows it won't stop plaguing his mind. So he has to know, whatever it takes. Moving for the first time, he runs a trembling hand through his hair and summons all his courage.

 "You… you didn't say a word." His quivering voice startles you, making your heart swell with sadness. You don't need your eyes to know that Ivar is filled with dread. The need to reassure him compels you to blindly fumble on the bed until you find his hand, which you grasp between yours. "What do you want me to say?" You ask cautiously, your thumb lightly stroking his knuckles. 

 You can feel Ivar stiffening, his fingernails probably bruising your palms as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I…" He stops to swallow. "The… truth, Y/N. Go ahead, speak your mind. You… you touched…" He stutters, and you're willing to bet his eyes are tightly shut, his tone giving away his level of anxiety. "… you touched them. My legs, I mean. I know… I know how they feel, ugly and disgusting… no need to sugarcoat your thoughts… I… I can handle the truth…" His voice cracks at the end, contradicting his words.

 Releasing his hand, you graze his right thigh with gentle fingers. "No, Ivar", you speak softly yet firmly, "that's not how they feel, at least not to me." You know you have to be honest, you can't just say nonsensical, lovey-dovey things, he won't buy it. "I won't tell you they feel beautiful. They don't." Choosing your words carefully, you let your pointer finger follow a massive scar from his mid-thigh to his knee. "They feel different, and yes, you can feel the scars. It must have been painful, it's probably still is. But I promise you, they're not disgusting. They're your legs. They say a lot, Ivar. They're telling a story, your story. That's why I wanted to know them because as I said earlier, I want to know all about you. And they are part of you. I do think they finally deserve to be cared about, to be loved. Let me love them…" You whisper the last words, feeling vulnerable. 'Let me love you…' is what you want to add, but you know you can't, not yet, so instead you lean forward, your lips brushing and then kissing his thigh.

 Something between a whine and a choked sob escapes his lips and you can hear his breath hitch as his hand gets up close to your neck. "Did I hurt you?" You ask with concern, frowning behind the blindfold. 

 Ivar can't help but smile, even if you can't see it. "No!" he replies quickly, his hand now on the back of your head. "I wasn't expecting that, the kiss I mean, but I… liked it." He explains shyly, surprised by his own words. "Actually, I loved it." He's not lying. He loved the kiss, he loved your words; it's as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted off of him. Part of him tells him not to believe everything you said, but he decides not to. He didn't hear any malice or mischief in your voice. He knows you were being genuine. That's why, choosing to chase the disbelief away, he decides to trust you completely. And that's why, suddenly, without warning, he pulls off the blindfold.

 "What are you doing, Ivar?" You squeak, immediately closing your eyes and picking up the comforter. But as you intend to cover his legs, Ivar grabs your wrists with both hands. "Just leave it where it is." He retorts before letting out a heavy sigh. "And open your eyes."

 You do as you're told, but keep your eyes on his face. There are tears in his eyes and a whirlwind of emotions. "Just look at them, Y/N." He almost commands you, but you know that's a way to hide his true feelings behind bravado. 

 Blinking a few times and scrunching your face, you tilt your head to the side, scrutinizing him. "Are you sure?"

 Your lover just shrugs, biting his lower lip. "Will I ever be?" Taking a deep breath, he adds in a murmur. "But I trust you."

 ***

 Later that night, as you're sound asleep, your head on his chest and his arm around your waist, Ivar can't get sleep, amazed that you didn't run away. He keeps replaying what you did when you saw his legs. You had just smiled. And kissed them one more time. And then thanked him for trusting you, for allowing you to love them. Moved and overwhelmed, he could see the matching tears in your eyes, but no sadness on your face. What he saw instead was relief, and care, and… love? 

 Kissing your head, he mumbles. "It is I who should be thanking you. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, but whatever it was, I'm glad. If angels are real, you're mine. I won't let you go, Y/N, never ever." 

 "I love you…" He finally whispers, taking advantage of your slumber. Well, little does he know you're awake but staying perfectly still. You know you weren't meant to hear those three words, not yet. And it doesn't matter. You can wait. You and Ivar have a lifetime to love each other. 

 All of him. All of you. 

🛡⚔️🛡

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[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part three]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

“No sex?”

“Y/n!” Sam hissed through his teeth. “You think you could lower your fucking voice a little?” His tone was even, but his eyes betrayed the thinly veiled panic you were all too familiar with. 

Pushing your best friend’s buttons was something you usually enjoyed, but in that moment you were feeling a similar sense of panic. 

“Sorry, how was I supposed to react to you telling me I can’t sleep with anyone this summer?” you snapped in a whisper. 

“How were you expecting to pull that off without making it look like you were cheating on me?” he countered. 

“I- I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about it...”

Sam had been typing the list of “rules” for the summer in the notes app of his phone for the better half of an hour as you brainstormed together, and you had been on board with everything that it consisted of so far:

No gross pet names (babe, baby, and darling are acceptable)

No kissing with tongue

No telling embarrassing stories!! (yes that includes that one time i got a condom stuck in my nose and we had to go to the emergency room- that’s literally only funny to you)

4. Share a bed together for the whole trip

ACT LIKE WE’RE IN LOVE (@ y/n)

Spend at least an hour with family per day

Take “coupley” pictures together when my parents as- bc they WILL ask

Wear the matching shirts my mother made 

Buy y/n all the alcohol she wants

It was a pretty decent list, all things considered, until he got to rule number ten. 

“I mean it’s not like it’s going to be easy for me either,” Sam reasoned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Am I supposed to thank you for your service or something? Applaud you for keeping it in your pants for two whole months?”

“You’re literally complaining about the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m only doing it to save your ass,” you huffed.

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

You gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“You don’t want to be. You’ve mentioned that several times.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”

Sam smiled at that. “Thanks, I love you too.”

“Alright that’s enough sincerity between us for a lifetime,” you said and chuckled uneasily. “We can go back to being assholes to each other now.”

“Good, that took a lot out of me.”

You glared at him, but refrained from making a comment. “What’s next on the list then, lover boy?”

“Already breaking the first rule-”

“Fine, what’s next on the list, fuckface?” you asked with a smirk. 

Sam clenched his jaw and scrolled on his phone. “Okay, number eleven, no flirting with my brothers.”

“Do you really need to write that one down?” You watched as he typed it out without acknowledging you. “Like isn’t that kind of implied? You know I don’t see Harry like that.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” he muttered. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, awaiting an explanation, but he offered none. Instead, he moved on to the next rule and left you sitting alone in your confusion. 

The majority of the rest of the flight was spent bickering with Sam over the list, undoubtedly annoying the hell out of everyone seated around you. The other passengers finally got some reprieve from the sound of your hushed voices when Sam put his earbuds in to listen to music. You knew he was only doing it to tune you out because whenever he was really listening to something he always shared one of his earbuds with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If he was going to be like that then... god, this was going to be a long summer.

You shifted in your seat so that you could comfortably rest your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Even though he was frustrated with you, you knew he wouldn’t push you away. It was just like that with you guys. He’d get over it by the time you landed. 

When you opened your eyes again, Sam had fallen asleep too. He was slumped against you with his head resting on top of yours like something out of a movie. It struck you as ironic. To passers by you already looked like a couple. Game on. 

-

Sam led the way through the busy airport terminal to baggage claim, apparently trusting you were right on his heels. But it was almost like he was trying to lose you with the way he was weaving through the crowd like a wanted fugitive. You could barely keep up. Some fake boyfriend he was. 

You’d never seen your best friend like this before. Usually he was so calm and collected, the one who was always talking you off the ledge, but you could tell he was the one climbing stairs right now. 

“Fuck, there’s no way this’ll work.” 

It had been another one of those late nights in the library when Sam had thrown the stack of index cards onto the table in surrender and buried his face in his hands. You were both teetering on the edge of a caffeine crash. The words on the pages had started to blur together in a way that was almost illegible and neither of you could keep the important dates of your relationship straight. 

“Yes it will,” you insisted as you gathered up the cards and handed them back to him. “We’re just burnt out. That’s why we keep getting things wrong.” He knit his eyebrows together in a way that told you he didn’t believe you, but didn’t say anything in return. You sighed and took a sip of your coffee, giving him a measured look over the lenses of your glasses. “It’s four am., Sam. We just need some sleep and then we’ll come back fresh tomorrow, you’ll see.”

He pushed his hair back from his forehead and nodded reluctantly. “Thanks for doing this with me... it’s, uh, really important to me.”

“I know.” 

But you didn’t know why. Sam didn’t even study this hard for midterms, but here he was night after night with you mapping out every single detail of your fake relationship. A small part of you wondered if there was something more, something that he was keeping from you, but you pushed the thought down. You told each other everything...

As you watched him wait for your suitcases at the carousel, arms crossed, left foot tapping the tile impatiently, it dawned on you just how nervous he was. You wished there was something you could say to ease his mind, but the right words were escaping you. To be fair, you weren’t having any luck shaking your jitters either. You’d never been in a relationship long enough to meet your significant other’s parents. Somehow the fact that you weren’t even dating made it even more daunting. You desperately needed the Hollands to like you- for both you and Sam’s sakes. 

“This one’s yours, right?” Sam asked and pointed to one of the bags he’d rolled over.

“Yeah, thanks for grabbing it.”

“Don’t mention it, babe.” You fought the urge to make a face- “you’re making a face.”

“Sorry, knee-jerk reaction. Still adjusting to hearing that.”

“Well adjust quicker because my brother will be here to pick us up any minute.”

“Wait, what?”

“How else did you think we were going to get home?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.”

You followed Sam outside through the automatic doors to the car loop to wait for Harry. It was warm out, but there was a light breeze that lifted some of the heat from the pavement. The sun had set mere minutes ago, and dusk was lazily settling over the horizon. You were too close to the city to see any stars, but the moon glowed dimly behind the clouds, like a performer waiting in the wings. 

Sam scrolled through Spotify as you both sat there, carefully balanced on your suitcases, and offered you one of his AirPods. You took it wordlessly and put it in your ear. The gesture was comforting, almost intimate, a reminder that nothing had changed between you. At least not yet. 

He was playing something you hadn’t heard before, a classical piece. It sounded old and European which didn’t narrow it down at all. A glance at the title scrolling across his screen suggested that it was French, but he put his phone in his pocket and stood up before you could fully read it. 

Before you could ask what was happening a black Audi pulled up to the curb, parked, and a boy who was... not Harry stepped out of it. It was then that you realized Sam had never specified which brother was picking you up. 

You knew Sam had an older brother, but he didn’t talk about him much. You had just assumed they weren’t close, but as you watched them hug and laugh together you weren’t sure what to make of it. 

“Y/n, this is Tom,” Sam said as he introduced you to his brother. “Tom, this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You held out your hand and he shook it tentatively.

“Likewise,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. “Can I help you guys with your bags?”

“Um, sure. That’d be great.”

You handed over your suitcase and backpack to him and joined Sam back over on the sidewalk while Tom lifted the luggage into the trunk with surprising ease.

Tom was about Sam’s height, slender like Sam too, but far more athletically built. Even through his t-shirt you could see the distinct outline of muscles you hadn’t even known existed in the human anatomy- it was ridiculous. His smile was the same as Sam’s too, but what really gave him away as a Holland were the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap. They were impossible to miss. 

“Do you want to sit in the front, love?” Sam asked, pulling you back into the moment.

“No thanks, you catch up with your brother. I’ll be fine in the back.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. Tom didn’t seem too thrilled to meet you in the first place so sitting in the back seemed like the safer way to play it. Sam just shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat while you slid into the middle seat in the back. 

“Did you tell mum we’re running a few minutes late?” Sam asked Tom once he’d merged onto the road. 

“Yeah, she said she expects it from Heathrow anyway since they’re always so busy.”

“It was fucking packed, mate.”

“I know. Traffic was awful getting here. Everyone’s going on holiday.” Tom turned to glance at you, then back at his brother. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner should be ready when we get there.”

“When we get where?” you piped up in confusion, wondering who would’ve cooked at the boys’ flat.

“Mum’s and dad’s.”

You grabbed Sam by the shoulder. “Wait, we’re going straight to your parents’ house? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What do you mean? Why does it matter?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“Like what?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m wearing sweatpants!”

“And you look fine!” he argued. “Tom, tell her she looks fine.”

“Uh, you look fine.”

Why were men so fucking dense? You rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt. Your suitcase was just out of reach in the trunk so you hoisted yourself up over the seatback and grabbed one of the straps on the bag to pull it closer to you.  

With your limited access it was hard to find what you were looking for, but you managed to randomly pull out a nice pair of jeans and a floral print blouse you’d thrifted last semester to change into. 

Before either of the boys up front could register what was happening you pulled your t-shirt off over your head and started shimmying out of your sweats. 

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” Sam hissed as the car swerved. 

To be fair, you were just straight up taking your pants off in his brother’s car, but in your defense he’d really left you no choice. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You snapped and looked back up at him defiantly, catching Tom’s eye in the rearview mirror as you did. 

“Keep your eyes on the fucking road, Tom.” Sam grumbled, shooting daggers back at you.

You blew him a kiss in return followed by the middle finger as you buttoned your jeans with your other hand. 

Tom laughed and turned to his brother. “I like her.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[ask-them-bois]

Of Monsters and Matriarchs, pt 1/3

TLDR: Musrio has a talk with Oliver and the ancestors.

TW: None

~~~~~~~~ Musrio knew exactly what god had chosen to shove its bulge up his wastechute and fuck him over when he’d walked into Scarbucks to see none other than Oliver fucking Maddel standing at the counter, chatting amicably with the barista.

The sun had only just set, so the coffeehive was nearly empty, and Oliver turned her head at the sound of the dongshouter above the door ringing. Musrio froze on the spot, despite Oliver being unable to see him. As he watched, a small, knowing smile spread across Oliver’s face, and the rustblood knew beyond doubt that Oliver knew exactly who stood behind her.

“Good morning, Almawt.” He said politely.

Musrio said nothing, rooted to the spot by his surprise. After a moment, he shook himself out of it, magic springing to his palms as he braced himself for the oliveblood to make a move. And since Oliver couldn’t see him, he flipped them the finger.

Oliver seemed unperturbed by his silence. “I was hoping to come across you soon, you know. I didn’t realize it would be now, but, ah well. Better now than never, darling. Come, order your drink, on me. We should talk.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” Musrio scowled.

“Oh, I know you don’t want to, but I think you and I need to. Just give me ten minutes, darling.”

“I’d rather eat glass. Ribbit.” Musrio spat.

Oliver tittered, taking her drink from the barista. “With the amount of venom you ingest, would that even do anything?” She inquired, turning to fully face him. “Five minutes, then? That’s all I’m asking for. Perhaps we can set some of our grievances aside.”

Musrio narrowed his eyes, understandably suspicious. Oliver tisked, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll be over here if you change your mind. Darling, put this man’s drink on my tab.” They said, talking to the barista over their shoulder, before they turned and headed for a booth far away from the other patrons, their cane clicking against the floor.

Musrio strongly considered turning around and walking back out. His feet were burning with the urge. At the very least, he was going to get what he came for, though. He approached the counter and gave them his order; a black coffee with as much espresso they were legally allowed to give him, and whipped cream.

It came out rather quickly, and he took it to the personalization station, watching Oliver out of the corner of his eye the entire time.

The oliveblood had taken a seat, and was tapping on his palmhusk, an earpiece reading out his claw’s placement on the screen as his purse and cane laid on the bench beside him.

Musrio reached into his robe, to his satchel, and removed a vial of a viscous, clear fluid. He splashed a healthy amount into the coffee and stirred it, before pouring in a few packs of sugar. He turned towards the oliveblood again, debating himself silently for several seconds.

Finally, he approached the booth, and wordlessly slid into the opposing bench.

Oliver didn’t look up from her palmhusk, but she smiled. “So glad you decided to join me, darling.”

“Five minutes starts now.” Musrio said pointedly.

Oliver hummed, flicking tabs away on their palmhusk before closing it down and setting it aside. “Indeed.” They knitted their fingers together, resting their chin on them. Even with their eyes covered, Musrio got the impression Oliver was staring him down. “We have quite the history together, don’t we, Almawt?”

“No, we don’t.”

“Oh, but we do. Perhaps not directly, but we shared one very important troll.”

“We didn’t share them; you took them away and gave me back the broken pieces. Ribbit.” Musrio snapped.

“If that is how you remember it, darling, sure.” She hurried on as Musrio opened his mouth to speak, “You know, it’s quite funny. I don’t even know what you look like, darling, yet this… animosity has grown so dark between us, that even I am blinded by it. I am thankful that I am a phoenix, so that I might have a chance to cut through the murk with a gracing light.”

Musrio scoffed. “What are you getting at, Oliver?”

“I am getting at your surrender, Musrio.” Oliver said bluntly, his smile suddenly dropped.

“My what?”

“I am asking you politely, and once: I ask that you surrender your side now, before this gets messy and trolls get hurt. I don’t care if you join me or not, but simply… stop fighting. There’s no way you can win- you see that, don’t you?”

Musrio’s claws dug into his palms as he curled his hands into fists. “Trolls are going to get hurt regardless, Oliver- you’re planning a fucking genocide! Ribbit!”

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “Sacrifices must be made, for the good of-”

“The only troll this would be good for is you.” Musrio cut them off.

“Darling, please. Surely someone as logical as you can see how the odds are stacked? On my side, I have the entirety of the Black Hand- nearly three hundred strong- BB, the Enforcer, and the Bladepen.

You have a drunk, a chef, a pair of broken batteries, a pair of mangy mutts, a gardener, a rancher, a madman, a chronically sick child, a philosopher, a retired soldier, and a failure.” She listed them off like she’d practiced this. “That’s not even to mention those of us who are undecided, such as the Hounding, the mutant reds, and the dear prince. Your side is mere has-beens and broken trolls, darling. I am offering you a chance to surrender with grace, rather than see them all culled.”

Musrio took a deep gulp of coffee in hostile silence, setting his cup down with force. “That’s where you’re wrong, Oliver.” He said, his voice dark. “I “have” nothing. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for demons and shifter-beasts and robots. I didn’t ask for soldiers and thieves. They took a good look at the fight you’re trying to start, and chose to back up the one troll you seem afraid of. Ribbit.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you, Musrio.”

“Then why are we having this discussion?” The rustblood demanded, “If you aren’t afraid, why meet me like this?”

“Because I, platonically, pity you, darling. Watching this all go down is like watching a warren of hop-beast grubs try to fight a howl-beast. Frankly, it’s depressing that the Infinite Scapegrace thought you were a suitable rival to strengthen me.”

Musrio’s mouth opened in shock. “You think that’s what this is? Ribbit?” He hissed, “That I’m some big obstacle your god put in your way to test your mettle?”

Oliver tipped his head. “Of course, darling. Why else would you be so inferior, yet so maddeningly annoying?” Musrio growled, low in his chest, and Oliver raised her hands in surrender. “No offense.”

“Oh, all offenses taken.” Musrio snapped. He slid out of the booth, standing up. “I think I’m done here. I’m not surrendering, Oliver. That’s not a fucking option anymore. I don’t give a damn about you, your god, or even this piece of shit world, but I do give a rat’s ass about the fact that you collectively ruined my fucking life. Ribbit. Fuck you, fuck the Black Hand, and fuck Neviserrath.” Oliver tensed in his seat, “I didn’t ask for this. All I fucking wanted was to be a professor and marry my partner. But since you ruined that, since you started this bullshit and I got no say in my participation, I’m going to put an end to it. Ribbit!”

He spat out the final croak, snatched up his coffee, and stormed out.

It took the entirety of the twenty minute walk down to the docks for him to calm down. He called Drayco as soon as he was a few blocks away from the coffeehive and told them everything that had happened.

“Holy shit, babe.” Was Drayco’s response, “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Mush.” The bronzeblood sighed, “I… I don’t know what to do or say. This all started because of m-”

“Don’t, Dee.” Musrio said forcefully, before his dropped into an almost uncharacteristic softness, “This isn’t your fault. It’s Oliver’s. You know that. Ribbit.”

“… Yeah, I know.”

“This will be over soon, Dee, and we can put this all behind us. We just need to find Lucina.”

“Are you headed to them now?”

“Yeah. I’d just stopped off to get a drink.”

He heard Drayco suck in a sharp, gurgling breath. “Well, good luck, then. Call me after and tell me how it goes.”

“I will.”

“Okay. I love you, Mushy.”

“I love you, too. Ribbit.”

Musrio hung up as he approached the docks, and ascended the ramp of the Warshark. Standing on the deck, smoking a cigarette, was the Ruthless Deepbite.

He let out his breath, smoke streaming from his mouth and gills.

“They’re all waitin’ in the dinin’ block fer ya, lad.”

Musrio paused, looking up at the violetblood. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”

Ruthless nodded, the haunted and exhausted look in his eyes, for once, slightly alleviated by the faintest spark of hope. “Aye. There’s only one color left.” He looked out towards the water, his tattered fins flickering. “Krakyn wanted ta be here fer this, but he can’t come this close ta shore.” He said.

“You can tell him about this afterwards. Ribbit.”

“Aye.” Ruthless dropped the butt and crushed it under his boot, before he turned and headed for the hatch. “Come on, then.”

He hauled open the hatch, and let Musrio into the bowls of the ancient ship.

Down the corridor, Ruthless let him into a large room that once crammed a crew of four dozen trolls into tables to eat.

Now, only the Incoding, the Innocent, the Decaying, the Deadscar Wanderer, and, inexplicably, the Hounding and Ashhur, sat around a table, the former sat on the opposite end of the two latter. They all looked up as Musrio and Ruthless Deepbite entered.

“Welcome, young Almawt.” Innocent signed politely.

“Hi. Thank you all for coming.” Musrio nodded. Awkwardly, he took a seat at the head of the table, while Ruthless took a seat between his morails. Taking a sip of his coffee, he cleared his throat. “I… suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here.” He internally cringed at saying such a cliché line. “Well…” He took a deep breath, trying to settle his sudden onset of nerves; he’d never been in a room with so many adults before. “I’ve got a lot to explain.”

Knocking back another gulp of poisoned coffee, the adults were silent as Musrio launched into the story; his death, his revival, his title as the second harbinger, the Black Hand, Neviserrath Apocriyna, the chosen child, the ritual, Oliver’s goal, and his mission. He spoke for over an hour without pause, leaving nothing out as he explained the reasons for their revivals, and why he’d needed them in the first place.

“… and now,” He said, his throat beginning to ache from talking for so long, “we’ve come down to the final color: Jade. Ribbit.”

Musrio watched Innocent and Incoding’s eyes slide directly to Ruthless.

The large seadweller swallowed. “But ya’ve tried a hundred times ta bring her back, lad. Nothin’s worked.”

“That’s the thing.” Musrio shifted in his seat, “The Hierophant came to me, and told me why we’d been failing.” He leaned forward, “Ruthless, your wife isn’t dead.”

A very loud silence fell as the violetblood’s face went slack with disbelief. “… She…?” He tried to speak, his voice faint. Slowly, he began to shake his head. “No, no, that can’t be right! She died in my arms! I watched-”

Musrio held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not denying that she died. She did. Ribbit. But she came back, long before I ever even hatched. She’s a rainbow drinker, Ruthless, and she’s waiting for us, somewhere.”

Ruthless sat back in his seat, before he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands as he digested this. His fins began to flare, before they drooped, only to hesitantly flutter upwards again. Incoding and Innocent each put a comforting hand on his shoulders as he digested this.

For a minute, Musrio honestly thought the seadweller was going to cry. At last, though, he took a deep breath and sat up again, running a hand over his face. “I…” he shook his head. “Okay. Sorry. Okay. My wife’s alive.” His voice cracked, “Where is she?”

At that, Musrio could only shake his head. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere on Alternia- for all I know, she could be off-world. We need to plan, to-”

“To what? We can’t possibly sweep the entire planet for her.” Incoding interjected.

“I know that.” Musrio huffed, “But we need some place to start.” He turned to Ruthless, “Think, Deepbite. There must be a place the two of you went to that she’d know you’d think of, or something. Ribbit.”

Ruthless frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “… No. The only places I could think of would be ‘er grave, or here. Most everythin’ ‘tween us happened on this tub.” He stamped his foot, and the ship responded with a creak. “An’ trust me, I’d know if she were here.”

Musrio swallowed the growl in his throat. “Well, then…” His gaze wandered the room, as if the answer would be scrawled on the walls. He turned to Deadscar, next. “What about you? You’ve been all over Alternia, have you seen anywhere that could be a rainbow drinker’s hideout? Ribbit?”

The Wanderer considered it for a moment, before he shook his head. “That is too vague a question. I have seen hundreds of places where it would be easy for a rainbow drinker to dwell.” He rumbled.

Musrio reached up and fiddled with his necklace, thinking. Looking over the gathered trolls again, his gaze landed on his own ancestor, the Decaying Mind. Brigan was staring fixatedly at him.

“… You know, don’t you?” Musrio asked him.

He nodded.

“What?” Ruthless rounded on the older rustblood, “How?”

Musrio sighed. “Brigan saw all of this happen before it even occurred, when he was caught between life and death. Ribbit. It destroyed most of his mind, which is why I gave him his title.” He explained.

“Rotted, totted, off to the maggots.” Brigan hummed, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Then tell us, Bri.” Incoding took his matesprit’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Where is Lucina?”

Brigan looked up at him, squinting at the goldblood’s face. “Oh, Cody…” he sighed, making Incoding start in surprise.

“Where is she, Almawt?” Ruthless repeated, more forcefully.

Brigan began to sway, his lips pursed. Slowly, he scowled. “Words, words, words. Rotten like my pan, spilling black ink on black paper. Leviathan drowned by wolf, heralded by scorpion, stealing my lexicon. Incomprehensible, even to the Ebonblack.” He said, sounding frustrated.

“… What?” Innocent asked.

That was when Ashhur suddenly stood up. He walked around the table to face Decaying, leaning towards him. “Incomprehensible, against the Ebonblack.” He chirred, “Scrambled eggs in fried pan. Indigestible for gods. Poison. Use it.”

“Brat, what’re you doin’?” Hounding growled. Ruthless shushed him, as Decaying fixed his gaze on the young mutant.

Ashhur made several clicks and hums, all four eyes blinking out of sync. “The raining bows sipper is…” more clicks, “hiding. You know?” He asked.

Decaying nodded, enthralled. “I know.” He agreed, a look of hopeful wonder on his face as he stared at Ashhur.

“Where do you know?”

“Where do I know…” Decaying repeated, scratching his stubbly cheek. He opened his mouth and shut it several times. “The monster.” He said at last, seeming pleased with himself. He pointed at Ashhur, “Monster to monster, water to sand. No- no water, but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. You know?”

All of Ashhur’s fins waved, almost hypnotically, as he thought this over, Decaying leaning forward with anticipation. Finally, Ashhur turned to Hounding. “What call you, the place of sand with no water?”

“The desert?” Hounding raised an eyebrow.

Decaying slapped his free hand onto the table, shook it out, and pointed at Hounding, nodding emphatically. “Desert, dessert, sweetness in sugar sand and gritted gold.” He turned to Ruthless. “Therein lies the where I know, what I know, who is known. Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.” He said, as if that was both comprehensible and important.

“Cody?” Ruthless turned to his morail, hoping for a translation.

“The hound of war lies in the desert.” Ashhur spoke instead, “Guarded by a beast, of one kind or many.”

“Okay… what’s a screaming serpent?” Incoding inquired.

Ashhur looked to Decaying.

“Metal, screaming, scuttling upon legs of centipede, but a serpent none the less.”

“Oh- a trackscuttler.” Incoding realized. He glanced at Ashhur, impressed. “How did you… manage to make him do that?”

Ashhur shrugged. “He cannot speak the way his pan speaks. I am,” he hesitated, clicking to himself, “broken worded, with your tongue. Broken tongue,” He pointed at himself, “broken thinkpan.” He pointed at Decaying, “Together, we make the words.”

“Well, then...” Innocent signed, “We head to the desert, and follow the trackscuttler trail.”

“All of us? That seems… like a bad idea.” Incoding frowned, “We don’t know where in the desert she is, or even which desert. The supplies alone would be a huge burden, and-”

“Then I’ll go.” Deadscar interrupted shortly. He rose to his feet, “I have crossed many deserts. I can search on my own.”

“Now, hang on.” Hounding squinted at Ishran, “Why the hell are ya goin’? I’m the tracker; my name is the Messiah’s damned Houndin’, after all.”

As one, the entire table turned to look at him. “... Why are you here, even?” Innocent inquired, “Last I checked, you weren’t on our side.”

Hounding nodded to Musrio. “The scumblood told me I aught’a come. Said I could get away from Godric.”

“I thought Godric was your boss.” Innocent pointed out, “He is the one that set you on us in the first place. Why would you want to get away from him?”

Hounding eyed the limeblood reproachfully. “Name one laborer that actually likes their foreman, sewerblood, an’ I’ll hang up my ax. Motherfucker pays me ta clean up his messes, but that doesn’t mean I want ta do it. The jobs the church gives me are more important than offin’ off some bitchblood with a big mouth.”

“...”

All the other adults gave each other a look.

Musrio shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Hounding is no longer the bigger threat here. We have Oliver, and the Enforcer to worry about. Ancient animosities have to be set aside. Ribbit.”

“It’s true…” Incoding said thoughtfully, before he snorted a laugh and turned to Hounding, “You’re basic, big guy. You’re season one’s villain.”

Hounding growled at him. “I could still rip ya in half right now, pissblood.”

“An’ ye’d get a bullet in the eye fer it.” Ruthless hissed.

“Stop.” Musrio said sharply, “Now isn’t the time.”

“Aye.” Ruthless agreed, looking around. “But it’s decided, then? Ishran’ll head fer the desert ta search fer Lucina. When ‘e finds her, we’ll come a’runnin’.”

The others nodded.

Ishran turned towards the door. “No point in wasting time. I will leave now.”

“Already?” Innocent asked, surprised.

Ishran looked towards his former charge, his expression momentarily softening. “Yes. I will be in touch.” He said, before striding out the door.

With that, Musrio rose to his feet, before he bowed to the gathered ancestors. “You have my thanks, all of you, for hearing me out. And… I’m sorry, for all of this. If it was my choice, I would have left your souls to rest. Ribbit.”

The gathering broke up, then, Hounding and Ashhur leaving promptly after. Musrio stood on the deck of the Warshark, texting Drayco as the three morails chatted nearby. The young rustblood looked up as a hand touched his shoulder.

“Puzzle to puzzle, pieces to rest.” Decaying murmured, coming to stand beside him. He looked up at the moons; they were full and fat that night, bathing everything in silvery purple and green. “Connected, all of them, until the picture is made blurry by the buried secrets. Clicked together, string to thumbtack, followed by the puppet wires, until they all tie behind the boy with demons in his blood and gods in his brain.”

He looked down at Musrio again, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he gazed intensely at his descendant. “The line will be blurred, paint will spill, but painters spared. Follow the lines, balance, tight-rope walking, but let ashen feathers run amok. Flames consume breath until redemption breaks the puzzle. The bane of worlds and innocent constellations will be the salvation of us all.”

He squeezed Musrio’s shoulder, before he wandered away, leaving the young rustblood to contemplate the oncoming events.

[cedricslover]

Troubled pt.4

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.5 Pt.6

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…

Chapter summary: you fell into a slump after the break up, but thankfully you had friends to somehow lighten up your mood. Not until you found out the true identity of Professor Moody, everything went downhill, just like you expected.

Note: there is no specific house:))) i can make requests if y’all have one. 

Warnings: angst, hair being pulled, mentions of cheating, slight violence (for self defense)

Word Count: 4.6k

The week went by and the next thing you knew it was already the end of the winter break. 

"Of course" you scoffed as you stood up and opened the door, "Phoebe" you said your roommate's name with boredom. "It's the last day of winter break, are you sure you're not goin' out?" She asked you-again.

"I told you. No. I'm just staying here until classes start" You declared and walked towards your four post bed, leaving the brunette girl standing at the doorway. 

"So what really happened?" She started bugging you again. She never runs out of questions ever since the Yule Ball.

"What happened is that you shut your mouth and go wherever you want" you covered yourself with the blanket while laying down on your bed. You just wanted peace, is that too much to ask. No question, no noise, because that voice in your head was loud enough. 

"Fine." She finally gave up, "I know what you're doing, and I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I'm here" she said before you heard her footsteps getting far. 

You removed the blanket that covered you and sat up, slowly, the guilt crept inside you. The past days you just ignored everyone, you easily get annoyed, and the farthest place you just went was your house common room. 

You cried your eyes out the whole day whenever your roommates left the dorm, after a day of not eating anything they decided to bring you food every now and then from the Great Hall. But you still became a bitch. 

Inhale, hold, exhale, you tried relaxing yourself. Getting a grip from your intrusive thoughts, locking them up in that vault in your head. 

"For a day" you told yourself while looking at the mirror you swallowed excessively. You look terrible, not gonna lie. Your hair was messy and starting to get greasy, dark circles, and obviously dehydrated. 

So, you started with a shower, been there for an hour, scrubbing your skin and scalp. Maybe the scrubbing can remove even just a little bit of your demons, but it was ineffective. 

While looking for a sweater to wear you managed to pick up Cedric's sweater. The sweater you wore during your first anniversary.

You smiled but immediately faded, oh yeah, you two broke up. 

But isn't it just decent to bring this sweater back? You felt absolutely insane, there's a pile of Cedric's clothes in your wardrobe and you just want to give his sweater back? 

Oh please.

"Ced, can I have this?" You turned around to your boyfriend as he went out of the bathroom, water dripping from the ends of his hair and his upper body was visible. You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him when you felt your cheeks burning. 

He got this Adonis body and who wouldn't dare to blush if it was showcased in front of you.

"Absolutely love, you can have that" he said and hugged you from the back. 

"You don't mind if I steal your clothes?" You laughed and looked at him. "No. Besides, you're not stealing them" he kissed your shoulder and rested his chin on it "if you wanted to steal it, you wouldn't ask my permission" his chuckle was music to your ears. "And next time don't even bother to ask. What's mine is also yours. Alright?" He kissed the top of your head and started to look for clothes to cover his jaw dropping body. 

"Is that so? Okay. What's mine is also yours too then" you smiled and laid down on his bed while he got dressed. 

"Hmm?" Cedric crawled to you and stopped when he's on top. You smiled and scrunched your nose as his scent brushed your nose. "You smell so good." You groaned "-Merlin I fucking love you" he laughed at your statement. 

"I fucking love you more" his husky voice filled your ears before his lips pressed onto yours.

You were unconsciously smiling as you reminisced. Funny. How all of it will be mere memories, just because of this bloody mark. 

After you got dressed, you packed Cedric's clothes into a bag. Maybe you could ask someone, his roommate, friends, or just someone to give him this. You can't just let his things sit in your place, it'll be hard. 

"Y/N?" You heard Alice's voice as you stepped outside your dorm, you turned your head to the blonde girl who was standing a few feet apart from you. "Come here babe" she said and opened her arms which you occupied. "It's so nice to see you not looking miserable" she laughed and caressed your face. 

"We'll always be here okay?" She smiled sweetly at you. 

No you won't. 

But you chose not to say it.

"Phoebe!" You called your roommate who was out in the snow, snogging with a girl. Yeah, she's gay as fuck.

"Y/N?!" Her eyes widened as she looked at your direction. You waved your hand and smiled at her, as if it was the cue for her to come over.

"Wait, is that the girl you took to the ball?" You started teasing her, she turned scarlet and looked at the girl who was waiting for her. "Yeah…" she answered awkwardly that made you smile. Everything seems to be doing fine after she came out. You were so proud. 

"If you're so head over heels for her then go back there mate” you mocked the boys who always make fun of her “I'm fine, I'm just going to look for the twins while you-" you tried your best not to laugh "snog".

You walked right after and left Phoebe whose lips were curled just like her hair. She seems happy to be worried for you. But before you continued, you called her again, “Fibs... I’m sorry” you looked at her apologetically and she answered you with a sweet smile and a nod.

You walked around the castle, into the Great Hall, courtyard, some classrooms, but you can't find the twins. The last time you saw them was during the Yule Ball. Yeah, the Yule Ball that you didn’t even enjoyed.

"Are you going?" Cedric asked you when you started taking the path to your common room. 

You turned around and forced a smile at him "Yeah, just say that I'm not feeling well" it felt like every word that comes out from your mouth backfires and turns into a single needle piercing your throat. 

"Oh. Okay" he nodded without energy, it must be hard for him too. It happened so fast. This wasn't meant to happen. He wasn't supposed to know this early, but here it is. 

He started walking back to the Great Hall where you can hear the commotion, people having a great time, dancing, singing, laughing, while you will most likely spend your night in your dorm, crying in your dress that Molly bought, ruining your makeup.

"Ced" you called him one more time and he immediately turned to you, like he was expecting you to say something, something impossible. That it might be a joke, or maybe you two can do something, but if he wanted for it to be a joke, you wanted this to be a dream. All of this.

"Merry Christmas" you smiled again, but this time, it wasn't forced, it was genuine. You saw a tear left his eye before you turned your back. And by every step, you felt your heart being pulled away from you, your life, and your peace. 

"Lee!" You called the attention of the black boy with dreadlocks who was walking around the courtyard. "Have you seen the twins?" You asked as he approached you. He just shrugged as an answer and apologetically smiled right after. "It's not my business but still, you're my friend so I'll tell you. They're mad. They're probably avoiding you" Lee tapped your shoulder before he walked away. 

You were standing there, dumbfounded, full of questions. Why are they mad? Did you do something? Where are they? Is it a prank? 

And again, the voices in your head won't stop. Everything is not getting better. "Shut up" you didn't realize you said it with your voice and not just in your head. Thankfully, it just came out as a whisper. 

You hugged yourself as the cold breeze went by, but you still decided to look for the twins. 

"Fred? George?" You called on one of the secret rooms, this is where you three often hang out, you saw the box of fireworks properly labeled, you can say that the twins are more organized to their products than school stuff.

You roamed your eyes at the room, it was big enough for a bunker bed to be placed, there's also a corner for the twins' products, there was also your corner, filled with snacks, some stuffed animals you like so much, a picture of your family, and your most cherished guitar. You touched it and felt the tip of your hands travel the strings, you missed playing it, the last time you played was before your parents died. It was your mother who taught you how to play. 

"Mum it's so hard. Especially the F chord. I'm giving up." You whined to your mom as you two sat at the front porch, she was knitting a neck warmer for you to use. 

"Sweetie, of course it would be hard." She stopped and looked at you, you both definitely have the same eyes. "But it's a process. Not everything would be easy, but don't be too hard on yourself. Come here, take a break" she reached for you and you sat beside her as she wrapped the neck warmer on you.   

"You like it?" She asked you while you observed and touched the neck warmer, its soft texture, its heat. It would always feel like home while you wear this. You raised your head and smiled "I love it".

You miss your mum. You touched the neck warmer you were wearing and felt it. Maybe. You can feel her. See her again. But the only thing you felt was the fabric, no mum.

"Y/N?" You heard the twins said and you turned around. They saw your eyes that were on the verge of crying. 

"Something wrong?" George asked with full concern, they were both looking at you, confused, sad, and concerned. 

But without a word you hugged them. Tight. Then you started crying. Like a little girl crying to her parents, saying that someone stole her candy. 

"Shhh. 's alright. We're here" You heard Fred say while he caressed your hair. Meanwhile George was tapping your back. They were doing this to calm you down. 

"I miss my mom" you finally talked between your sobs. "I miss her" you wailed again. 

“What? We’re not mad” George stated as you three were laying down the bunker bed, your feet touching the ground while you three stared at the upper part, there were drawings you and the twins made when you were in your first year. 

“Lee told me you two were. Maybe he’s referring to another kind of mad” you stifled a laugh. 

“We’re not THAT mad too!” Fred exclaimed. “Alright. If you say so” you just answered. 

“Is that supposed to be a dragon Fred?” you pointed to a drawing, the parchment was getting more old but the drawing was still there. It was something that has wings and a tail. You felt him nod. “Not a lizard with wings?” you laughed and George didn’t even try to hide his laugh too. 

“Aren’t dragons just lizards with horns, wings, and fire breath?” Fred asked while you and his twin were still laughing. “Wait-” you muttered when you realized what he just asked. 

“THAT WILL MAKE TOTAL SENSE!” you three said in unison with wide eyes, still staring at all your awful drawings as a child. 

“Should we ask Charlie?” you stood up “Accio parchment” and the parchment went straight to your hand. “Is there a quill here?” you looked around, not bothering to stand. “Accio quill” you heard George and the next thing there was already a quill and ink in his hand. “Here” 

Dearest Charlie,

                       Good day lad, it is us, your favorite trio. We hast a most major question and we would appreciate if thou answer as fast as thou could. We wot thou love dragons so much and of course we love thou moe.  

 yet  the question is, art not dragons just better versions of lizards?

loving, 

Fred, George, Y/N

You three laughed as George read the letter out loud. You always do this whenever you send letters to Charlie. You all act like it was the old times, you write in Old English, and you sometimes even speak in Old English. It was something Charlie always looked forward to whenever he visited home, his dorkhead trio. 

"It's almost lights out. We should head to our dorms" you heard Fred say as he started to clean up the mess you three made. Your eyes widened and looked at George who has a lopsided smile. 

"Am I alive? Is this heaven? Or am I dreaming? Is this real? Frederick Gideon Weasley is afraid of lights out? He's following the curfew? Pinch me George" you shifted your gaze to Fred and George, it was utmost not Fred-like to say “we should go back before lights out” he liked sneaking back, he liked ruining the dark and quiet halls. Why would he say such a thing?

"Ow!" You glared at George who actually pinched your arm, "It was just an expression!" You widened your eyes as you rubbed your arm, he just laughed and apologized to you.

"No but on a serious note, why is he, FIRST OF ALL, cleaning?" You and George looked at Fred who was now arranging the wizard chessboard that you used, "-and told us to go back BEFORE lights out?" You crossed your arm and still stared at Fred, squinting your eyes at him, he finally stopped. 

"Fine fine, it's because-" Fred started talking again and stopped, he looked at George who was beside you and his look was saying 'SOS help me' but George just ignored him and continued to fix his shirt-that in fact there is nothing to fix, therefore 'pretend fixing' are the right words.

"I promised to Angelina that I'll go back before lights out" he said with a low voice, more like, whispering. 

"Huh? What? I can't hear you" you tilted your head while George was biting his inner cheek in order to not laugh. 

"I promised-" you interrupted him

"LOUDER!"

"I SAID I PROMISED ANGELINA THAT I'LL GO BACK BEFORE LIGHTS OUT!" He shouted back that made you stiff, and then, you and George broke down again, laughing. "I heard it the first time" you said between your laughs, waving your hand at him, while Fred seemed to be annoyed but trying his best not to laugh too. 

Your laugh and George's laugh are the only ones that were heard in the closed room, it was contagious and after a minute of trying his best not to be on the same boat as you two, Fred finally gave up and laughed with you and his twin.

"You're not going back yet?" George asked you when you didn't come to the door with them, you shake your head in response. 

"Uhm, alright, just don't get caught" he said and the two of them waved at you before stepping out. 

Now the room was filled again with silence, gone was the chaos, the laughing, shouting, the running, and even throwing of things. It was only you and the silence. 

After half an hour of just staring at nowhere you decided to stand up. You picked up the lamp and headed out. You forgot your wand at your dorm and you've probably never said stupid to yourself so many times. 

Walking the hallway, still being cautious to your surroundings, you don’t want Filch or Mrs. Norris seeing you, polishing the trophies without using magic is one thing you don’t want to do. 

As you walked, feeling the walls, slowly gliding your hand through it, you suddenly saw a silhouette, it was a man, thinking that might be another student you stepped closer until his back was quite visible, but still it was far enough for him to not notice you. You observed him more, all your attention was to this man. 

His black trench coat, straw coloured hair, he was not familiar to you. 

You followed him, for about 2 minutes in complete silence, even your footsteps were light in order to not make any unnecessary noises. You just concentrated on the man and to yourself that you didn’t realize you bumped into a suit of armor and it made a loud clang. You hit your head hard and was about to curse when suddenly someone grabbed your wrist from behind and dragged you into a space between the walls, the person covered your mouth and blew the lamp. 

It was a helpful gesture to be honest, because you then hitched when you saw the silhouette walking in front of the both of you. You looked at the person in front of you, you can’t recognize his face, it’s so dark that you can only hear footsteps of the man you were following, he was still phasing, looking around to see what might have made that noise.

You didn't waste any time, you moved to the spot where you can see clearly and was shocked to see Professor Moody. Without any hesitation you ran towards him 

“Professor!” you seemed panicking, while he was shocked, he looked at you with disbelief and you were confused why he was making such an expression. 

“Professor I saw a-” you were cut on by someone putting its arm over your shoulder. 

“She saw heaven professor, if y’know what I mean” the person said, you froze, how can you be dumb enough to not know. 

“Silly kids. Off to bed. You two better go, Filch might come” Moody said and turned its back to you,

and Cedric

After Moody disappeared in your sight you immediately removed Cedric’s arm that wrapped you. “What do you think you’re doing?” you took a step back to make a space for you two, and the moon was just right on time to shine between you. There you saw a clear view of him, his stance, his fluffy hair, his grey eyes, everything.

He didn’t answer and just stared at you, “He might have caught that person, you saw it too, that man was not from here” you tried not to shout, you were frustrated, scared, you didn’t want to think about it, but if danger is lurking around at Hogwarts only two people are the possible targets. 

You and Harry. 

“Did you see his face?” he finally talked, you looked at him with shock all over your face, “NO, I didn’t, I just saw his back, but I know he’s not anyone I know, or if it’s a student he would be  familiar” 

He covered half of his face with a hand, gliding it down to his jaw, while his other hand was on his hips, it was an act of frustration. 

“That’s the point, you didn’t see his face, but you saw the back, and the clothes.” he got his wand “Lumos” there it is, you can see clearly. But you don’t know what to think about.

Is it your ex boyfriend who was in front of you in the middle of the night or the fact that the danger might be lurking around Hogwarts, and you being completely oblivious, almost trusted them.

 After that encounter with Cedric before the term started , you avoided him, even if it is quite hard since you two have classes together you still managed. There was nothing more in that conversation, after he lit up the tip of his wand you walked and ran, not thanking him, not talking to him, you just ran back to your dorm, not minding the dark hall, you just trust your instinct to where it would take you and luckily, you arrived safely.

January came by and it’s almost February, you were the talk of the school, you and Cedric. When people started to notice that you two were not walking to class together, sitting at the Great Hall together, no PDA, a lot of rumor started. And Rita Skeeter just made it worse.

“What’s that?” Angelina sat beside you as you read the Witch Weekly. You gave it to her and stabbed your steak, wishing it was Rita. 

“PRETTY BOYS CAN BE PLAYED AROUND, what is this?” She read the headline,

“Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory and ex girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N cause of break up revealed. Hold up, is this you and George?!” Angie looked at you like her heart just dropped, you shook your head to deny it and glanced at your food again. 

“Then who is this?” she surveyed the moving picture with full attention, well if you didn’t know better you would also believe the article, “Georgie’s girl” it was morning but you felt the energy draining from you, “Please don’t tell anyone. Fred knows” you continued and tried to take a bite, but you felt your stomach turn upside down. 

It was a picture of George kissing a girl the same hair color as yours, her face was covered as George’s back was at the camera. 

“I’m so sorry boo” she hugged you and you felt her warmth, you just stayed there for a while, laying on her shoulder, you’re not crying, but you wished you were. 

“Shit” you blurted out as you opened Professor Moody’s office, he must be at class now so the coast should be clear. 

“Alastor Moody?” you called with a low voice, you jumped as one compartment started to rattle. Slowly but surely you went up to it. However, before you can even touch it you are pushed sideways, you hit your hip on a table and your sleeve might have been grazed in a sharp object within the room for it to be torn. 

“Well well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N” Professor Moody was right in front of you now, you felt your insides shaking adding up to the pain of your hip, you know this is not Alastor Moody. 

“I guess you figured it out?” he said and suddenly, his face started to disorient, it was changing into something, it was changing into his original face. 

And you saw it, you know him.

“Hi, I’m Barty Crouch” he introduced himself, removing the wooden leg and eye. You got your wand and pointed it to him. “What are you doing here?” you said with full confidence, you tried to not shake, you have to gain control in this situation. 

“Don’t worry, we’re on the same team” he pulled his sleeves up and you saw a dark mark, he then pointed to your dark mark that is now visible because of your torn sleeve. 

“D’you wanna see him? He’s like a malnourished pup” Barty laughed maniacally as he opened the trunk, it had many locks, many layers, and when he got to the seventh one he gestured to you to come over. You were still holding your wand, preparing offensive and defensive spells just in case, but your mind went blank when you saw what was lying in the last layer of the trunk.

You looked down into a pit-like, underground chamber, where the real Alastor Moody lay 10 feet below, sleeping, lean and starving in appearance. His wooden leg was missing, and chunks of hair were missing, the socket that should have housed the magical eye was empty.

“That’s Mad-Eye Moody” Barty whispered to you, your hand was shaking, you felt numb, you can’t move, you didn’t even realize that you forgot to breathe for a second. He was there, the real Moody, the person you should trust, not the impostor. 

But who should you trust? You’re a death eater, the others won’t trust you, only your fellow death eaters and the Dark Lord will.

“If you tell anyone,” Barty slowly gathered your hair and pulled it downwards, now you’re not looking down but rather up, your hair was being pulled by a guy, you panicked, and the adrenaline started to kick in. 

You locked his hand by holding it with both of yours, you stepped back, you went under his arm and up again, and started twisting it until he let go. 

It was just one of the defenses your father taught you, it always came in handy. He was still in pain by your twisting of his arm so you took that opportunity and kicked his back, his face fell on the floor and you locked his hands while you kneeled on his back.

“Why would I tell anyone? My family is important to me, unlike yours” you declared and put him to sleep with a sleeping charm. “I don’t have time to die” you whispered and stood up. Walking to the trunk you closed it, now seeing Mad-Eye Moody awake, and before you closed it, you catched a sight of his eye, looking at you. 

You glanced at the picture that was crumpled in your hand, 

It was Cedric, and the skull and serpent sign that the Dark Lord uses was drawn just enough to be noticed. You knew exactly what the message portrayed. 

Cedric’s life is also in line, just like your brother. 

And only one thing can be done to put a stop to this. 

You first looked at your target audience, Mad-Eye Moody or more like, Barty Crouch Jr. When you spotted him it was your cue to find your victim, but it's like luck was on your side, he was coming to you. 

You stood up and came face to face with him. He was red, not blushing, but because of anger, but there was also sadness in his eyes that made you want to back out, but you remembered. You want him out of any danger. So, you faced him, your head high and looking stoic.

“You cheated on me?” His voice was low but full of frustration, “yes” you announced and look at his friends who were behind him. 

“No” he shakes his head, trying to deny it. “Look at me in the eyes and say that.” he focused on your eyes and you almost broke down your character when you saw Barty gawking at the both of you, “Yes. I cheated on you. With my best friend.” your voice surprisingly didn’t break, but his heart obviously did. His face was full of pain, he was vulnerable, but after a second his face went dull similar to yours. 

Cedric turned his back on you and your heart completely shattered as you saw he was still wearing the bracelet you made and the matching rings you two had. That’s why he was looking at your ring finger earlier, the ring was not there anymore, you made it into a necklace, perfectly hidden because of your uniform.

“At least she’s honest about it” one of his friends says before looking at you, giving you a half smile and continuing to follow Cedric. 

“Y/N? What was that for? You said it wasn’t you, were you lying?” Angie tugged you down to your seat earlier. “I was lying-” you admitted, reaching to your bag, “but not to you” and you stood up and left her with lines forming between her eyebrows. 

If it is for the better. I’ll do it.

[softspideys]

The Right Person (Tom Holland x reader)

summary: when your ex shows up to the same party as you, you ask tom to be your boyfriend for five minutes

warnings: none

word count: 3.2k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: this is my first fic in a WHILE so I hope it’s not too rusty! enjoy:)

As soon as you locked eyes with the guy across the room, you knew it was going to be a long night.

You turned away and tried to melt into the crowd, pushing past everyone and trying not to spill your drink until you managed to locate Zendaya. “What the hell, Z?” you hissed. “Why did you invite Anthony?”

“I didn’t!” she insisted, sounding just as alarmed as you felt. “I didn’t even know he was here!”

There was a cough behind you. You turned around and saw Harrison standing there, scratching his nose and looking unmistakably guilty.

“Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this,” Zendaya said, a murderous expression on her face. “Tell me you did not invite her ex-boyfriend to my party.”

“Listen,” Harrison began, and you groaned. “Look, Jacob asked if he could bring some people and I didn’t realize that Anthony would be one of them! I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s obvious,” Zendaya mumbled.

“I’m really sorry,” Harrison said, and he seemed sincere. “Do you want me to ask him to leave?”

The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene or make it seem like you weren’t over the relationship. “No, it’s fine,” you said with a sigh. “It was an honest mistake. I just don’t want there to be any drama tonight.”

“Look, don’t worry,” Zendaya said, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I won’t leave your side. I promise. He won’t have the balls to come up to you if I’m there.” This was true; Anthony would never try to talk to you if you were with someone else.

Unfortunately, as well-meaning as she was, you also knew Zendaya wasn’t going to hang around you the whole night. She probably wasn’t going to even hang around for the next five minutes. There was always someone else: some guy who wanted to talk to her, some girl whom she hadn’t seen in ages, and soon she was lost in the party, only to be seen again at the end of the night. You loved her, but you knew her well.

“Okay,” you said now, forcing a smile. “Great.” Harrison came back holding a shot and you snatched it out of his hands, downing it quickly.

“Hey!” he complained. You made a face as it burned going down your throat.

“That’s what you get for inviting my asshole ex-boyfriend to a party,” you informed him before looking around the room. “Where’s Zendaya?” In the ten seconds you’d been distracted, she’d vanished. You sighed.

It was almost like being a secret agent, spending the night ducking and sneaking through the house, trying to avoid Anthony as best you could. You weren’t really sure why you didn’t want to see him, exactly; it had been almost six months since the two of you broke up. And he’d never cheated on you or beat you up or yelled at you. He was just . . . well, he was an asshole, plain and simple. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to talk to an asshole.

An hour later, you were exhausted and still hadn’t seen any sign of Zendaya. This was her apartment, for God’s sake, and it wasn’t even that big. Where could she possibly have gone?

You stumbled into the kitchen for another drink and almost collided with Tom Holland. Great. Was this party Douchebag Ground Zero or something?

“Nice to see you’re classy as always,” Tom said with a roll of his eyes, and shit, you’d said that last line out loud.

You and Tom had gotten along for maybe the first three seconds after you met. And then he tried to hit on you with a slimy, cocky pickup line he’d probably used countless times before, you got pissed and called him a dick, he got pissed and called you a bitch, and the rest was history. Long story short, the two of you hadn’t had a nice exchange in years.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded.

“Zendaya invited me,” he said, looking at you like you were an idiot. “Because, you know, I can actually play nice with other people.” Despite your feelings about him, everyone else in your friend group got actually along well with Tom. Harrison was always inviting him to hang out, insisting the two of you would like each other if you just tried harder. It was very annoying.

“Fuck off,” you said, but the usual bite wasn’t there. Instead, it just came out weary. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He did. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you said with a sigh, scrubbing one hand down the side of your face. “It’s just . . . it’s been a long night.”

“Hmm,” Tom said, knitting his eyebrows. “Care to elaborate on that extremely vague statement?”

“Not to you,” you said. Something different flashed across his face for a second, but it went back to the usual annoyance so fast you wondered if you imagined it. It almost looked like hurt.

Before you could contemplate that further, his eyes strayed to look at something over your shoulder. “Uh, if I’m not mistaken, I think your ex-boyfriend is making his way over here.”

“What?” You turned. Sure enough, you could see Anthony across the kitchen, elbowing his way over to you. Your heart started to pound, like all of your senses had suddenly shifted into high gear. You had to think, and fast.

You looked back at Tom, surveying him as objectively as you could. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Nice teeth. Decent manners. Kind of funny.

Were you really about to do this?

Clearing your throat, you said, “I need you to be my boyfriend for five minutes.”

“What?” Tom echoed. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe!” you said. “Look, Anthony is coming over to talk to me and I can’t handle it on my own so I just really need you to be cool for once and do this for me, okay? Please? Five minutes?”

Tom stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. Before he could answer, a voice behind you said, “Hey.”

You turned around to face your ex. “Hey,” you said, plastering a smile on your face. “Anthony. Hi.”

“You look well,” Anthony said. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you said, as Tom ever-so-slowly slipped his arm around your waist. You tensed at the unfamiliar feeling at first, but forced yourself to relax. “Yourself?”

“Good,” Anthony said, immediately zeroing in on Tom’s hand on your hip, on his thumb that was just barely slipped under your shirt, rubbing the skin there almost absent-mindedly. “It’s Tom, right?” You tried to remember how much the two of them had interacted before. Hopefully it wasn’t much.

“Uh-huh,” Tom said. He didn’t say anything else, and an awkward pause followed.

“Nice to see you again,” your ex said finally, his eyes still occasionally flicking down to your waist. “Not sure if you knew this but, uh, we used to date.” He jerked his head at you.

“You graduated, like, last spring, right?” Tom asked abruptly.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Cool. Why are you still hanging around on campus?”

You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Anthony’s eyes narrowed at the blunt question, like he was trying to figure out if it was rude or not. Tom looked unbothered, wincing a little when you subtly stepped on his foot.

“I’m not,” Anthony said finally, his voice noticeably cooler. “I’m just visiting Jacob for the weekend, and he said there was a party tonight.”

“Ah,” Tom said, nodding. “Got it.”

“Anyway,” Anthony said. “Are the two of you dating, or . . .?”

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “We are.”

“Funny,” he said. “I always thought you didn’t like each other.”

You smiled, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Uh, yeah, well, one day we just kind of realized we . . . didn’t.” It was a lame thing to say, but when you glanced at Tom you saw his eyes were already on you, a strangely soft look on his face.

“When did you get together?” Anthony asked, like you were at a police interrogation and not a college party.

“Couple months ago,” Tom said breezily. “It’s been good so far, right babe?” He smiled down at you.

You blinked, a little taken aback by how casual he seemed. “Uh, yeah. Really good.”

“Cool, cool,” Anthony said, focusing back on you. “So, senior year, right?”

“Yup.”

“I’m a senior too,” Tom cut in helpfully. You coughed, trying to stifle a giggle that randomly came out of nowhere.

Anthony ignored him. “Are you working anywhere?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Still at the student co-op, but it’s been going well. I actually—”

“Still?” he repeated. “I thought you were looking for something else.”

“Well—”

“You know, especially since it’s your last year now, it’s good to have an internship under your belt. A real resume booster.”

“Um, I was looking around,” you said quickly before he could get another word in, “but things just didn’t . . . pan out.” You’d had a minimum wage job over the summer at home, along with doing some part-time work here and there for a company you were vaguely interested in, but other than that you didn’t really have much going for you.

“Where’d you look? Were you limiting yourself to working just within your major? Because, you know, sometimes you gotta cast a wider net.”

“I was, but I—”

“Did you call back after you applied? Or send thank-you emails? Job recruiters really pay attention to those little details. It shows you take initiative.” Anthony shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “I mean, unless you’d rather be selling books and supplies at the co-op for the rest of your life.”

You swallowed, feeling your face and neck start to get hot again. You’d forgotten how pushy Anthony could be, how he seemed to take delight in making you feel inferior. Back when you were dating, he was always dropping hints about you being lazy or not trying hard enough to look for a better job, often comparing your career at the student co-op to his paid internship.

You wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the words just wouldn’t come out. It was like he was six feet tall, and you were only six inches.

Suddenly, Tom’s arm tightened around you. “Actually, she just got promoted to assistant manager of the co-op,” he said, his words sharper than glass. “And she was employee of the month three times in a row. And she’s got an interview for that internship in the city over winter break. Right?” You nodded wordlessly, wondering how he knew all that.

“She works damn harder than me, or any of us for that matter, and it’s paying off. So I’d say selling school supplies at the co-op is going pretty well for her,” Tom finished. “Not that it’s any of your business though, mate.”

Anthony seemed surprised for a second, his eyebrows raised. “Alright man, chill out,” he said. “I was just making sure she’s pushing herself. Sometimes she had a problem with that when we were dating.”

“Huh,” Tom said pleasantly. “Well, maybe she’s just found the right person now.”

You’d been taking a long sip of your drink, but now you nearly spat it out everywhere. Anthony’s jaw clenched. “Right,” he said, nodding. “Well. Think I’m gonna go see where the boys went off to.”

“You do that.”

“It was good to see you, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you’re happy. The two of you really deserve each other.”

“Thanks,” you managed to say finally. “It’s nice to know that you haven’t changed a bit, Anthony.”

With one last scathing look, he left you alone. Tom relaxed instantly, letting out a long sigh. “Jesus, I forgot what an asshole that guy is,” he said. “How long were you with him again?”

You were staring up at him like you’d never seen him before in your life. “How did you know all that stuff?” you asked. “Like, about the job and the interview and whatever? How did you know?” It was then that you also noticed his arm was still around you.

He noticed too, taking a step back and scratching his nose. “I just pay attention, I guess.”

“To—to me?”

“Yeah, of course. You know . . . Z tells me stuff about you and I—I listen.” It was true that through casual conversation, you knew Tom’s birthday and what he was studying at school and whatever problems he happened to be going through at the moment. But it never occurred to you that he might be committing facts about you to memory the way you did with him.

“But . . . why? You don’t like me.”

Tom smiled thinly, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “If you listened, you’d know that I actually like you very much.”

Your mind was racing as you processed all of this. There was no way that Tom actually meant that—was there? You hated each other; you always had. But then why did it make your heart pound to hear him say those nice things about you? Why did your entire body feel warm when he touched you? Why did you pick him to be your fake boyfriend in the first place?

“Oh, fuck it,” you said suddenly. You grabbed his hand and set off through the apartment, dragging him with you. Ignoring his confused protests, you didn’t stop until you were in front of the door you were looking for.

You jiggled the doorknob and were relieved to find it open. You pulled Tom inside before closing and locking the door behind you.

“Why are we in the bathroom?” Tom asked. “Have you had some sort of mental break?”

“Shut up,” you said, grabbing his face and pulling him down into a kiss.

Tom stayed frozen with shock for about five seconds before he jerked back, staring down at you with wide eyes. For a second neither of you spoke, and just as you were afraid you’d made the entirely wrong move here, he leaned in and connected your lips again.

A small part of your brain still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but mostly you were just thinking about how good it felt, and how much you wanted more.

Tom pressed you against the bathroom counter, and you let out a small yelp as your body collided with the hard marble. “Shit, sorry,” he whispered, even though no one else was there and the music was loud, thumping through the closed door.

“S’okay,” you answered, cracking a grin. He returned it, and soon the two of you were giggling like kids. He leaned in again, but you stopped him. “Wait. I just have one question.”

“Okay.”

“So, all this time . . . you liked me?”  

Tom raised his eyebrows. “I mean, yeah. Basically.”

“Then why’d you act like you didn’t?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I thought you hated me, and if the only way to get to talk to you was to fight, then . . . so be it, I guess.” He let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Sounds pretty corny now that I say it out loud, but there it is.”

You swallowed, taking in his dark eyes, the curve of his mouth as he watched you shyly, waiting for your reaction. “I thought you hated me,” you said finally. “God, are we really that stupid?”

He snorted. “Seems that way. I guess we have Anthony to thank for all of this.”

“More like Harrison,” you mused. “He’s the one who invited him.”

Tom grimaced. “Idiot.” A beat passed. “So, uh, can we . . .?”

“Oh! Oh, God, absolutely,” you said, laughing as he grinned, moving closer. He let your noses brush for a second before he kissed you again. There was something different about it this time: it was softer, more deliberate, like he was testing the waters.

You were aware of the seconds and minutes ticking by, but none of it seemed to matter anymore. Everything was just Tom: the smell of his cologne filling your nose, his eyelashes brushing your face, his hands traveling down your body—

In one swift motion, Tom’s hands wrapped around your thighs and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. You squeaked at the movement, clinging to him reflexively.

"Good?” he asked, and you nodded. You opened your legs readily, hauling him back in for another kiss. You leaned into it and were rewarded when his mouth opened up against yours, your lips sliding together as your fingers wound themselves into his hair.

The kisses turned messy and urgent, your bodies pressing flush against each other. Tom’s hands slowly slid up your thighs, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. You couldn’t help the groan that escaped you as his fingers left feather-light strokes on your sides, your back, just exploring the skin there.

If you had told yourself a day ago, hell, even an hour ago that you’d be hooking up with Tom Holland in the bathroom at Zendaya’s party, you would’ve thought you were crazy. And yet here you were, and here he was, your lower lip caught between his teeth.

You rocked your hips forward, and the noise Tom made against your lips sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your thoughts began to travel away from this bathroom and towards your apartment, in your bed, where you could spread him out and take your time—

A loud pounding on the door suddenly startled you apart. You looked at each other with wide eyes, your heart slamming against your chest. Oh, right. You were in someone else’s bathroom.

“Uh, occupied!” Tom said quickly as the doorknob rattled.

“Are you almost done? I really gotta pee-ee,” a voice whined on the other side. You burst into giggles as Tom shook his head, annoyed but amused.

“Be right there!” you called. Tom reluctantly stepped back and helped you down from the counter.

“What now?” you asked.

“Uh, well,” Tom said. “I’m gonna need a second to, um, make this go away.” You pointedly did not look down. “But then I figure we could . . . get out of here? I’m down to just figure things out as we go if you are.”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds great.” You opened the door and went out into the hallway. You’d only gone a few paces before you nearly ran right into Zendaya.

“There you are!” she said, relieved. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Oh,” was all you said as Harrison appeared over her shoulder.

“Did everything go okay with . . . ?” Zendaya trailed off as she took in Tom hovering right behind you, at his messy hair and your flushed cheeks, at the matching smirks on both of your faces. “Oh my God.”

“No way,” Harrison said, letting out a sharp bark of laughter. “Tom, well done, mate!”

“I’m sure I don’t want to know how this happened,” Zendaya said. “But I guess you were able to get rid of Anthony?”

“You could say that,” Tom said.

“Good.” She raised her eyebrows. “And . . . you’re both sure this is right?”

You smiled as Tom squeezed your hand. “Yeah. I think it is.”

[kim-chann]

how do you think they’d deal with their s/o going missing just to come back with no memory of them?

Sorry for not updating, I’m working on “Songs of Grace.” :)

Osomatsu: At first, he would think that you’re joking and laugh it off. But when your tone gets serious, asking who he was. He would go quiet.

“You...You don’t remember me?” He asks, wanting to confirm. When you say yes, he’ll start to get a bit irritated. “Come on, babe! I’m obviously your boyfriend~” He’ll roll his eyes and wink at you, still think you’re joking. “Who are you, seriously...” You would say. Every time you would repeat those words, he would realize that you actually don’t remember him. He would freeze on sight when the truth hits him as he excuses himself from your room to sit outside and think. The doctors would apologize, and give me advice on how to restore your memories. But he wasn’t listening at all. 

‘They don’t remember me...’

Is that his mind is screaming at him. His face would be blank, everything around him was not in his senses as he traps himself in his mind. He would not cry in the hospital and ask the doctor to write down what they said or something cause he can’t think straight. But once he gets home, and reads the instructions the doctor gave him. He would break down, all the heavy weigh in his chest would shatter in him. Osomatsu would start sobbing, crumbling the paper in his hands, as he stares at all the photo’s he has framed up with the two of you. He would do anything the doctor says to earn you back. 

Karamatsu: Just like Osomatsu, he would think his S/O is joking, “Heh, you’re quite the comedian, my dear.” He winks at them, “Do you want anything--” “Who are you?” You would repeat, venom lacing on your words from a stranger being in your room. Karamatsu could see how tense you were; your body hunched in the blankets secured around you, and nervous and scrunched face. He would still not understand what you’re trying to get from him and just excuse himself from the room, thinking that you need some space. 

When the doctor asks him if he knows. He would be confused, asking what they were talking about. Before the doctor could answer, Karamatsu would interrupt, “Why don’t they remember me? Are they just joking, or am I overreacting?” The doctor would take a deep breath, and tell him that his S/O lost their memory. Karamatsu would freeze up at the news, his eyes wide and his body upright. 

He felt like he had lost all hope until the doctor told him that he can help restore his S/O’s memory. Karamatsu would beg the doctor to tell him what to do, immediately breaking down. His emotions would be going through a rollercoaster, losing hope, gaining hope, losing hope, gaining hope, and so on. If Karamatsu were honest, he would trade his fucking penis for you to remember him. (Like he has anything there--fsfhsieojfos jkjk)

Choromatsu: He’d be joining the ‘oh you must be joking’ squad. Choromatsu would click his tongue, “Seriously, S/O-chan/kun...” He sighs and slouches in the guest chair, “There’s no time to be joking right now. Now answer me, are you okay?” When he reaches to pet his S/O’s head as a show for comfort, he would be greeted with a slap from the S/O’s hand, pushing him away. He would be startled because you’ve never done that to him before. 

“Oi, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch me! Seriously, who are you?” 

Choromatsu would be oblivious to the situation, “What do you mean, ‘who am I?’” Choromatsu would repeat, “Matsuno Choromatsu? Your boyfriend?” When you tell him that you don’t have one, he would get pissed off. “Tsk, whatever-- I can’t deal with this right now.” He would leave the room, only to be greeted with a doctor who was coming through the hallway. 

“S/O’s pretending that they don’t know me, it’s getting annoying.” He would rant, clicking his tongue. The doctor would take a second before they confess that his S/O has amnesia. Choromatsu would reflect on what his S/O was acting and everything would make more sense to him. 

Choromatsu would feel weak at the knees, regretting how he treated you when you woke up. He would have treated you more gently. Choromatsu feels ashamed of himself before he begins to silently cry to himself. The doctor would ask him in a gentle voice if he wanted to talk to S/O with the doctor and fix things. Choromatsu would sit up and wipe his tears, “I-I’d like that...”

Ichimatsu: “...Eh? What do you mean, ‘who am I?’” He would tilt his head, slouching back into the guest chair. “I’m a piece of shit who happens to be your boyfriend, ‘emo-hello-kitty-wanna-be-bad-boy.’” He would joke, chuckling to himself. 

When he doesn’t hear you laugh, his head would snap up and apologize, “S-Sorry, I guess that wasn’t funny...” That was weird, you usually laugh at his strange jokes. He would remain quiet, his heart thumping in his chest. He would be confused, thinking if he should leave to give you some space. Ichimatsu was conflicted and ask if you want something from the cafeteria. “I don’t want to accept things from... people I don’t know, sorry...” You would say. Ichimatsu would knit his brows at you before he excuses himself out of the room. He would be so confused, he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. When the doctor comes around and asks him if he got time with his S/O, he would just hum quietly.

“They acted strange, didn’t they? They don’t remember you, do they?”

“H-How do you know?”

“I’m sorry, Matsuno-san...They have amnesia...”

Ichimatsu would freeze up, his slouched body would turn upright as his half-lidded eyes grow wide. He would be conflicted, his feet frozen. He wanted to do what he did best: flee. But his S/O needed his help. He wanted to, he has to. When the doctor gently pushes Ichimatsu down to a chair, sensing his distraught, he would tell him that there was a way to restore his S/O’s memory. He would immediately pay attention and remember word for word of what the doctor told him to do. 

Ichimatsu would just nod and excuse himself to the bathroom. When he sees the sign, he would speed-walk into the bathroom, throwing the door back as he leans against the sink and starts to sob. He would cry, his sobs echoing the bathroom as he falls down to the floor, bringing his legs to his chest, as he break slowly, emptying his feelings. 

Jyushimatsu: “Eh?? I’m Matsuno Jyushimatsu!” He would immediately answer your question, not thinking much of it. But when you ask him what’s your relation to him, he would start to get confused. “Hmm? Your boyfriend?” It sounded more of a question than a statement. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You said.

Jyushimatsu would be confused, scratching his head, “What’s the joke here? Should I play along?” He would perk up, thinking that you were playing around with him. Silly S/O! Of course, they were!

Jyushimatsu would ‘play along’ with his S/O, not realizing that they don’t remember him at all. When the doctor enters the room, he would ask to speak with Jyushimatsu outside. Jyushimatsu would give your forehead a quick kiss before he excuses himself. The doctor would explain slowly that his S/O has amnesia and that they don’t remember him. “Eh? But they were just playing around! I was playing too!” But the doctor sighs and explains thoroughly that they don’t remember him. 

Jyushimatsu would be conflicted and remain quiet when it got through his head. His wide smile on his face would fall into a flat line, his happy eyes would narrow into confinement and pain. He would sit down at a chair, steadying himself before he takes a moment to himself, trapping himself in his own mind. Soon enough, he would start sobbing (just like he did in “Jyushimatsu Fall’s in Love” episode). 

Todomatsu: “Huh? I’m your cute boyfriend, eheh!~” He would say, thinking that you’re joking just like the rest of his brothers. But when you ask him again, he would start to catch on. “Wait... you don’t remember me?” When you nod, he would start to get that you have amnesia. 

Todomatsu would still deny that fact, pulling up his Instagram and show you pictures of you and him on vacation. “I don’t remember that.” You exclaim, confinement toning your voice. “You really don’t...?” His voice would go quiet. 

He felt his eyes start to water before he excuses and rushes out of the room. Once he makes his way out of the room, his legs would give out, sliding down the door as he stares at his phone with a picture of you and him looking happy. Todomatsu wants to see your smile again. He would sob to himself while he scrolls through his photo album, pain carving through his heart. He wants you back. Now. He would literally kill someone who did this to you or sue God. 

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps🙄

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

[backtobackbakubabe]

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 3)

Bakugo x Reader 

Snuggles fix everything right? 

Angsty fluff? Idk. 

Words : 1703

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Telling your hero agency wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be. Apparently this happened pretty often. In fact your boss looked almost bored as  you told him. You had built a pretty close relationship with him since getting to the agency, giving him the loving nickname boss man. 

“Congratulations Bakugo... you finally found someone who could tolerate your bullshit.” He turned his attention to you, “And y/n my deepest condolences to your eardrums. As I’m sure you already know those temper tantrums of his aren't exactly quiet.” 

You gave him a knowing smile, “Oh sir I’m very aware. I’ve been at the receiving end of those tantrums for years.” 

You could see Bakugo’s ears tint pink as he rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, I yell, whatever. What about our patrol assignments? Will we be assigned new partners?” 

Boss man narrowed his eyes at you both... “No I don't think I will..” He ignored Bakugo's startled expression. “And I’ll tell you why. See Bakugo while you are likely the most talented hero at this agency you aren’t exactly a people person. In fact the only person you said you’d be willing to work with on your intake form was y/n. And luckily she has more patience in her pinky than most do in their whole body because she puts up with you. She keeps you centered and you keep her motivated. We’d be crazy to split you two up.” 

You gave him a smirk. See you and Bakugo had been adamently opposed when it came to splitting up as partners. You thought it was a stupid idea and Bakugo while he hated the idea of not being there to protect you, he also thought it was the only way he could focus and do his job. 

Katsuki stood up from his chair, fists clenched. “Sir with all due respect... WHAT THE FUCK!” You slipped your hand around his wrist trying to get him to calm down. His eyes met yours and he did seem to reign it in a bit. “Sorry what I meant to say is... please reconsider. I honest to god cant focus on anything besides her safety when were out there. That has to be a conflict of interest!” 

Boss man scoffed, “That right there is why I cant split you up.You start to blow up and all she has to do is touch your hand and you become a reasonable human.” 

You could see his shoulders tense up as he was bracing himself to lose this battle. He gave you one last last pleading look that tugged oh so hard on your heart strings. 

Sighing, “Listen Boss man, I understand why you want to keep us together. Really I do. I don't want us to split up either.. but if this is what Bakugo wants then I think you should at lest consider it. You say he has the most talent in this agency right? I’m sure there’s tons of better suited partners for him than me anyways...” 

Boss man knit his eyebrows together, “Now I won't have any of this self depreciating bullshit y/n. We’ve had this talk before and I think you are incredibly gifted...” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to fight off a headache, “But if this is truly something both of you want... than I guess I’ll fill out the paperwork.” 

Bakugo’s eyes widened, not expecting you to step up to help him. But before he could say anything you gave him the ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look. 

The walk home was quiet. Bakugo could tell you were upset and he was still new at the whole being nice to others thing so he didn't know how to handle it. He finally settled for holding your hand. You usually talked his ear off, but now you wouldn't even look at him. You couldn't possibly be mad at him could you?Hell you even had his back in the meeting... He will never understand women. 

You both stepped into the elevator and to his surprise you hit the button for your floor. 

“Oi what gives? You just did laundry I know you don't need clothes..” 

Pulling your hand out of his, “What I need is space Katsuki... Before you freak out... I’m not mad at you. I understand why you don't want to work with me anymore. But you have to understand that I am very sad right now. I just need some alone time.” You gave him a gentle peck on the cheek before exiting on to your floor. 

Fuck... he didn't like this. On one hand he thought you were being ridiculous. You will still see him every day! You practically live with him for fucks sake. But on the other hand he knows you’re upset and he knows that he's the reason why. He hates it. 

He practically slammed his door after entering his apartment and threw his keys harshly at the couch. How was he going to fix this. He walked over to the freezer to see if he has any ice cream. It was something he only started buying once you two started dating. It seemed to be a staple in your diet. He pulled out a tub of cookies and cream and spoon not bothering to put it in a bowl. 

He walked back to the main room to binge eat and mope when he heard that precious sound of air whooshing in. He turned the corner to see y/n in one of his shirts curled up on the couch, “I was alone for maybe 5 minutes before I remembered how much I hate being alone... So can I be alone... but like with you...?”

His nose scrunched up, “What the fuck does that even mean?” He handed you the ice cream and sat next to you pulling your feet in his lap.

You accepted the ice cream greedily, “Exactly what we’re doing now, except we turn on the tv and just like don't talk to each other... Just give me some time to process that we’re no longer partners...” 

He pulled a blanket over the two of you and handed you the remote. He knew you'd end up picking something awful like a Disney movie or a romantic comedy but if this is what you needed then he’d do it. 

Three hours and eight episodes of Avatar: the last Airbender later you were passed out. Sometime between the third and fourth episode you had decided you wanted your back scratched so you scooched over and without saying a word laid on top of Katsuki, picked his hand up and placed it on you back and moved it back and forth until he got the idea. 

That leads him to now. You were asleep with your head on his chest. You were so cute when you were asleep. He was content. He could have fallen asleep himself. He probably would have too except his phone buzzed in his pocket. It took some expert maneuvering to get it out of his pocket without waking you up but he managed. 

He had received an email from the agency with a list of available heros for the two of you to choose from. He opened it up and low and behold the first available hero was fucking Deku.. well that was enough for one night. He closed the email before looking at any other candidates. 

There was no way in hell he would ever work with Deku... but maybe... maybe he’d let you. As much as he hates to admit it, Deku wasn't the weak ass nerd he used to be. He knew first hand how powerful he was, but more importantly he knew how loyal he was. 

He threw his head back exasperated. Was he really considering this. It’s not like he had the right to pick his replacement, that was totally up to you... but maybe he could ask. Fucking Deku... 

He could feel you stirring awake so he put his hand in your hair and ran his fingers through it, earning him a soft moan of approval from you. 

“I think I’m ready to talk about today.” 

You didn't make any move to look at him and he didn't make you, “Oh yeah?” 

You nodded and rubbed your eyes trying to wake yourself up. “But I only want to talk about the positives. Like for example... apparently you requested to work with me on your intake form?” 

He could feel your soft giggles vibrate against his chest. Usually he’d be annoyed but knowing this made you happy was enough to make him get over it. “I knew that didn't slip past you. And just so you know... I didn't request you... I said I don't work with anyone and then in parenthesis I said (but if I absolutely have to then I’ll only work with y/n.)” 

“Oh so it’s your fault that we got paired together! And here I thought you hated working with me all this time.”  

He kissed the top of your head, “I did at first. But not for the reasons you’d think. I hated that you never looked before running into things. I hated that your costume was so tight and every guy we walked past got to see you in it. I hated that because of your quirk you could always beat me to the scene of a crime, meaning for a few minutes you'd always be alone with a villain without me there to help. But most of all I hated how every day it got harder and harder to pretend that I actually didn't hate you at all.” 

“PPPPPFFFFFFFFT” You couldn’t help it you just started laughing. 

“What the fuck it so funny eh? I’m pouring my heart out over here and you’re fucking laughing at me?” 

“I’m sorry babe! Its just that sounds like the speech from one of my favorite movies and its totally a rom com so I know there’s no way you’ve seen it but it’s still just so funny!” 

So then you just had to show him 10 Things I Hate About You, and to your surprise he actually enjoyed it. 

*****************************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! I know this chapter was kind of slow but shit gets real starting in part 4! Buckle up! 

[cherryrogers]

The One Where Loki Gets Drunk.

Loki x Fem!Reader

Contains: Fluff.

Synopsis: After the countless number of times Loki had taken care of you while drunk, it was finally time for the roles to reverse.

__________________________________________

“I am Loki, of As-asgard, and I am burdened w-with glorious p-purpose.”

“Oh... my god.”

Loki, to put it frankly, was wasted. He had fulfilled his promise of retrieving the strongest Asgardian alcohol and bringing it back to Earth, however, you weren’t expecting him to show up already completely drunk on your doorstep. The guy really hadn’t held back. In fact, he still had the bottle in hand.

“I thought you were bringing the drink back here and then getting drunk, what happened?” You asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.

“Well,” He started. “That was the plan. B-but then, I found Thor! I told him about the plan, and then he insisted that we got drunk together - which we did!”

You shook your head in amusement, wrapping your arms around Loki’s neck. “Well, it’s nine o’clock now. What would you like to make of your drunken night?”

He paused, lowering his head and knitting his brows together in thought. Nearly thirty seconds passed before you realised that Loki most likely wasn’t thinking about what he wanted to do anymore, and his blurred mind had probably ventured off elsewhere.

“Are you hungry?” You snapped him out of his trance. “You were in Asgard for quite a while, do you want me to make you a sandwich?”

Loki scoffed. “I don’t need food, mortal. I am a God! The God of frickin’ Mischief.”

Damn, apparently drunk Loki was pretty cocky.

“Alright, well how about you go and get changed? And put the bottle down, please.” You said, earning a overdramatic eyeroll from Loki before he plodded into your shared bedroom.

Honestly, you were excited to see this side of Loki. Perhaps he was a stupid drunk, or a funny drunk, or a poetic drunk? You pictured all the possibilities in your head as you quickly made up Loki’s sandwich and put it onto a plate.

Loki had never mentioned any horrendous drunk stories about him from Asgard before, and it made you wonder if he ever really got drunk. Maybe he didn’t like drinking, which you could honestly understand. Not a lot of people do, as it’s only really fun when you can stand up by yourself and you don’t end the night with your head over the toilet - you knew that from experience - an experience Loki had to guide you through. You wouldn’t be surprised if that terrible night put him off alcohol completely.

However, it seemed to not have scarred him so much, as you walked into the bedroom to see your drunken boyfriend... staring at himself in the front camera of his phone?

“Loki?” You questioned, putting down the plate onto your dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Do I look like this all of the time?” He slurred slightly, continuing to look at his reflection.

“Uh, pretty much, yeah. Unless you’re playing one of your stupid tricks where you shape-shift into a different person and scare the shit out of me.” He played that trick on you way more than you’d wished.

Loki groaned. “It’s ironic, r-really. I’m a shapeshifter, I can choose to look however I desire, and I’ve chosen to look like... this.”

He was joking, right?

“You can’t be serious.” You approached him, placing a comforting hand on his upper arm. “You’re literally the epitome of beauty, Loki. Sometimes, it takes me at least a minute after looking at you to process just how beautiful you are.”

Slowly, Loki turned his head towards you, his eyes glazed over slightly. “You think I’m beautiful, (Y/N)?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m s-sorry.” He sniffled, making your heart ache. “It’s just nobody has ever called m-me that before...”

“Oh, babe, don’t cry.” You said softly, placing both your hands on his upper arms and running them up to the sides of his face. “Loki, it’s okay. I’m only telling the truth, there’s no need to be upset.” Wow, you made him cry. Who knew Loki would be such an emotional drunk?

After you wiped his tears away with your thumbs, you stood back and let him calm down for a bit. “Now, can you please put the bottle down and eat your sandwich?”

With a slow nod, Loki shut off his phone and his tears seemed to stop. At least, for a couple of seconds.

“Hey, do you want a drink? Some water may- oh, lord.”

You knew what he had meant to do - put the bottle down on the dresser, and then chuck his phone onto the bed. However, the poor poor guy seemed to get the two mixed up. Your eyes darted between the large, dark stain on your white bed sheets and Loki, whose eyes looked to be teary again at the mess he’d accidently made.

A single tear trickled down his cheek once again. “Oh, (Y/N)... darling, I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, gorgeous.” You sighed. Quickly grabbing the sandwich from its plate, you handed it to Loki. “You go and sit on the couch and eat, I’ll change the sheets, alright?”

The god was hesitant, yet his jumbled thoughts couldn’t find the words to argue with you. After giving Loki the sandwich, you pecked his cheek comfortingly and watched as he slowly made his way through to the living room, leaving you with stained bed sheets to change.

Maybe getting Loki drunk wasn’t such a smart idea. You thought it could be fun, because most of the time, getting drunk is great. However, if you had the knowledge that Loki was an incredibly emotional drunk who was going to end up crying at the smallest things, you maybe would have held back on suggesting the idea. The night was still fairly young, so perhaps his mood would lift within an hour or so.

Once you had changed the bed sheets and thrown the stained ones into the washing basket, you entered back into the living room to check on your boyfriend, hoping you could somehow lift his spirits.

His back was turned to you as he was stood at the kitchen counter. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. After doing so, you peaked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. Well, attempting to do. Loki had the pack of butter in one hand and was, again, attempting to butter a slice of bread and make another sandwich.

“This d-damn butter won’t spread.” Loki huffed.

“Loki, you’re... you’re trying to spread butter with a chopstick?” You couldn’t help but chuckle as he eyed the chopstick in his hand confusedly. Detaching yourself from him, you opened the drawer to your left and pulled out a butter knife. You then held it up to Loki, grinning. “Here, this might do the trick.”

“Ah.”

He dropped the chopstick and took the knife from your hand, allowing him to successfully butter his bread before slapping a piece each of ham and cheese onto it to complete the sandwich. Although his eyes were still a little puffy from crying, they soon widened in delight after taking a bite of the sandwich.

“You know...” Loki spoke before swallowing what was in his mouth. “Next time, we should both get drunk.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure that that’s the smartest idea.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re both... idiot drunks.”

An offended expression took over Loki’s face. “What? M’not an idiot! That’s rude.”

“No, you’re not an idiot.” You smiled, stepping towards him and snaking your arms around his neck. “But, you did just try to butter bread with a chopstick, so that makes you an idiot drunk. And I said both of us, because I most definitely am one too. I’d probably be dead without you stopping me from doing something horribly stupid while drunk.”

You weren’t lying - you’d had way too many near-death experiences that you could barely even recall, and of course, Loki saved you from all of them. Now, the two of you drunk at the same time? It would only be a recipe for chaos.

“But just imagine,” Loki smirked, finishing his food and wrapping his arms around you weakly. “You, me, way too much Asgardian alcohol, drunken love making-”

“Loki.” You giggled. “Honestly, that doesn’t sound so bad...”

“So it’s settled!” He stepped back from you and clapped his hands excitedly. “Next weekend, we’re getting drunk and naked.”

“Next weekend? We can’t-”

The god pressed a finger to your lips, shaking his head. “Nope, no take-backs.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing there was no point in even trying to reason with him - maybe Loki would wake up the next morning with a different opinion on the idea, considering he’d have a horrible hangover.

His stupid smirk re-emerged on his lips. “Speaking of sex-”

“No.”

You stifled a laugh as Loki stomped his foot childishly. “But I want to...”

“But you are also drunk, keep it in your pants ‘til you’re sober.”

The god paused for a moment, staring at you in thought until he sighed, cocking his head to one side. “Is it because I ruined the bed sheets?”

“No, of course not.”

“... it is because I ruined the bed sheets.”

“What? I-”

“You’re annoyed at me for ruining the bed sheets and now you won’t fuck me.”

You scoffed, surprised that Loki was managing to keep a straight face throughout the whole conversation. “I don’t care about the bed sheets! And what happened to the love making? Now you’re upset I won’t fuck you?”

“Fine.” He sighed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “I don’t need sex, I need another sandwich.”

You watched as he reached back over the kitchen counter for two more slices of bread to butter. Before he could, you grasped the butter knife and held it away from him, earning you a glare.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, Loki.” You said, pointing the knife warningly at him. “You didn’t have to deal with me throwing up last time I was drunk, so I’d prefer not to have to deal with you throwing up tonight.”

Loki sighed, muttering something about you being ‘very lucky’ if you had to deal with him and making his way over to the couch, plopping himself down on the furniture lazily.

You followed, sitting yourself down next to him. The moment you hit the couch, Loki turned his body around and laid across both cushions, laying his head on your lap and gazing up at you. Absentmindedly, your hand went to his soft locks and you wound your fingers through them, unknowingly making Loki melt under your touch.

For a while, you both just basked in the silence; Loki getting increasingly tired as the minutes passed, and you admiring the sight of him doing so. His eyes kept fluttering shut, despite his attempts to keep them open. Loki would be passed out soon, but not before you could have one last conversation with the drunk version of himself.

“I don’t think I like being drunk.” He spoke up, his voice only a little louder than a whisper.

“Why’s that?” You replied, still entangling your fingers in his hair, causing occasional sighs of content from Loki.

“I feel so... out of control. Don’t like it - probably won’t do it again.”

“What about our drunk, naked weekend of love making we had planned?” You asked sarcastically.

Loki let out a soft chuckle, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Oh, yes - I almost forgot about that. After n-next weekend, no more drinking.”

You leaned down to kiss his cheek, causing Loki’s heart to race. “Whatever you want, Loki.”

Around ten minutes after saying that to him, Loki was fast asleep. You noticed as his breathing started to slow to a regular pace, and there was no longer the small smile on his lips indicating to you that he was enjoying you playing with his hair. Drunk Loki was done for the night, and while it was a rather amusing experience, you were glad Loki would be back to his normal self in the morning.

Carefully, you lifted his head from your lap and slipped out from under him, laying him gently back across the whole couch. You grabbed a blanket from your bedroom and draped it over his curled up form, pulling it up to his chin. For a moment, you stood and admired Loki - it was probably the most peaceful state you’d ever seen him in, and it was beautiful.

Beautiful. You thought back to the start of the night, when Loki got emotional over you calling him it. If only he could see what you saw - the most heavenly being you’d ever laid eyes upon, inside and out.

You quietly walked over to him and leaned down to press a final kiss to his forehead, not noticing the corner of his lips upturning slightly.

“Sweet dreams, gorgeous.” You whispered to him, before leaving the living room and switching off the lights, leaving Loki in peace.

Perhaps, Loki would never be able to understand the way you see him, or the way you felt about him. Maybe the alcohol just caused him to overreact a little, making him cry when he didn’t feel like crying at all. Either way, you were definitely going to remind him of his beauty more often.

And who knows? Maybe Loki would get the drunk weekend that he wanted, and maybe it would be horribly chaotic. However, you weren’t really concerned about the idea anymore, because you knew Loki wouldn’t let anything bad happen to either of you.

He was the God of frickin’ Mischief, right? Not technically an Avenger, but your own personal hero.

[siancore]

Richonne Xmas Party One-Shot

A/N: This was based on a dream that @slytherin-26 had. It was submitted to me as a fic prompt request. I hope you like it!

“It’s too late to uninvite one of them, now,” said Glenn as he ran his fingers through the back of his hair. “And that’s a shitty thing to do.”

“Well, what’re we supposed to do?” asked Maggie, as she sat cross-legged on their sofa.

“Just go with it,” Glenn replied.

“Just go with it?” she repeated, doubtfully.

“Hey, we wouldn’t have to if someone didn’t invite a couple of exes to our dinner party without thinking it through.”

“Someone is you, babe,” Maggie reminded her husband.

“I know,” he replied. “I know. And I’m a dumbass.”

“Aww, no you’re not,” she cooed. “C’mere.”

Glenn flopped down beside her and she took hold of his hand.

“Rick and Michonne are just gonna have suck it up and be in the same room as one another for a couple o’ hours,” said Maggie. “And they will, for us.”

 xXxXx

No one else really knew why they had broken up in the first place. Both were so suited to the other. To hear Michonne tell it, Rick didn’t want to move with her for work. To hear Rick tell it, well, he never spoke about it. Pushed it so far down inside of him that it never saw the light of day. That’s how he dealt with losing Michonne. But now, she was back in town for the holidays, and joining their friends for their dinner party.

Michonne was on time with her date in tow. A tall, handsome fellow named Ezekiel. Maggie had told her to bring a date, so she asked the guy who owned a local café who had flirted with her. It wasn’t anything serious, and he was cute, funny, and sweet. Besides, she wasn’t going to be at their annual Christmas get together dateless if everyone else was going to be there with someone. She really didn’t care, but the possibility of being there if Rick was going to be there with some other woman on his arm, made her feel like having a date for the night would not be so bad.

Rick showed up ten minutes late because his date was late getting ready. Everyone was still getting drinks and settling in when the couple arrived.

“Sorry we’re late,” said Rick as he hugged Glenn and Maggie.

“It’s okay, man,” said Glenn. “We haven’t started yet.”

“Y’all remember Jessie?” Rick asked as he nodded to his date.

“Yeah, hey there,” said Maggie as she went to shake her hand; Glenn followed suit, and the blonde woman greeted them with a sweet smile.

“Grab a drink and a seat,” said Glenn. “Food’ll be ready soon.”

Rick nodded his head and glanced around the room. All of their friends were there. He hugged, waved, and smiled at them as they chatted amicably, and he introduced his date. It was good seeing everyone together in one place: Friends who were home for the holidays; friends who he had just seen in the line at the grocery store. And that’s when he spotted her helping Maggie carry food to the dinner table: Michonne.

It was as if Rick’s breath hitched when he saw her, clothed in a form fitting red dress and wearing the same beautiful smile he always loved. She had not seen him, as she helped their friend, so he was afforded the opportunity to take in her appearance without being caught. It had only been five months since they had gone their separate ways, but his heart still swelled when he saw her. Maybe he would never get over her. Maybe he didn’t deserve happiness with someone else, after all, he had not been supportive of her career choice. Rick shook those thoughts of regret from his mind and focussed as Jessie got his attention.

“Grab a seat, everyone,” said Maggie. “Dinner’s served.”

Michonne and Ezekiel took their seat directly opposite Rick and his date. Her eyes went wide a moment when she finally realized Rick was there. They shared an awkward smile. She said hello, and he replied with the same greeting and a dip of his head. Of course he had to be wearing a stupid, ugly knitted Christmas sweater. And of course he had to look fine as fuck in it regardless of how tacky it was. They held one another’s gaze for longer than was appropriate, before Glenn got their attention.

“Well, thanks for coming, everyone,” Glenn started. “We’ve been doing this dinner for a little while now, and it’s always been great to have the people we love most in the world here with us. Michonne even traveled all the way from Atlanta to be here. We appreciate it.”

“Don’t even mention it,” she replied with a smile. “You know I’ll always be here for the two of you, no matter what.”

It was at that moment, Michonne shot Rick a quick look; her remark held a double meaning. A way to take a jab at him without actually directing any further words at him. He knew, too. Feeling a slight throbbing in his temple. This was going to be a long night.

…..

The night started off with introductions. Rick did not really know what to say about Jessie. They had been seeing one another for a few weeks. She was nice and all, but there wasn’t anything there. There wasn’t a spark. She was just keeping him from being lonely. His second attempt at dating someone after he and Michonne ended things.

Rick was finding it difficult to focus on his date with his ex sitting across the table from him. Michonne was laughing with her date. It was Ezekiel who owned the café on Main Street. Why was Michonne here with him? They weren’t even friends when she did live in King County. Had she kept in contact with him when she moved? Were they ‘talking’ the whole time? Rick found himself staring daggers over at the other man every time he would say something witty or charming, causing the stunning woman at his left to throw her head back in laughter.

“Everything okay?” asked Jessie, as she placed a hand to Rick’s arm.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, not looking at her, before finally asking a question of Ezekiel. “So, how’d the two of you meet?”

Michonne turned her head abruptly and glared at Rick. What was he playing at? She thought. Maybe he was just trying to get to know the rest of the guests’ plus-ones? Highly unlikely. Sasha had brought a date and Rick hadn’t even asked that guy if he was enjoying the mild weather.

“Funny story,” said Ezekiel; Rick had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I’d seen her around before a little while ago. Always thought she was beautiful and was thinking of asking her out. And then, for some reason, stopped seeing her around. Except for yesterday, when she came in for coffee. Found out she had moved away, and was in back in town for a minute, so I knew I had to ask her out. Gotta live a little. Seize the day and all that. And here we are.”

Some guests made aww sounds; Rick sighed loudly, thinking that story was not funny at all.

“Yeah, man,” said Rick. “That’s real funny.”

Michonne narrowed her eyes in Rick’s direction. Rick gave them both a dry smile that did not reach his eyes. She could tell he was annoyed by the way the vein in his temple was throbbing.

“Yeah, gotta live a little,” Michonne said with a smirk. “Get out of your comfort zone.”

That was aimed at Rick, and he felt bad. He always played it safe. That was one of the reasons he didn’t want to move to Atlanta with Michonne; he felt comfortable in his hometown.

Rick looked away and started to shift his food around on his plate. Michonne sipped her wine; Glenn cleared his throat and asked, “How’s the chicken?”

…..

 As the night wore on, Rick kept staring at Michonne even though he was trying to entertain Jessie. Jessie was all over him, kissing the side of his face, wrapping her arm around him, stroking his hair; but Rick’s attention was elsewhere: He was focused on Michonne.

His eyes kept falling from her face to the red form fitting dress that was clinging to her body. God, he missed her. She was so goddamn breathtaking. How did she manage to do that? Manage to look like she was walking the red carpet or a runway when it was just a dinner party in King County? Rick’s gaze stayed on her. She could feel it.

Her skin was warm from where he was staring. She needed to drink some more wine in the hope that it would cool her down. It just made her head swim and her inhibitions fade away. Before she could stop herself, she was glancing up at him; their eyes met and there was that intensity within them that caused her body to shiver. Damn him for having this effect on her still. Damn him.

Rick could barely focus on what Jessie was talking about. Michonne just glanced over at him. Her deep brown eyes still so captivating. He could have sworn she bit her bottom lip in that way that he has always loved. She wasn’t looking at him a second later as she laughed at something her date had said. Rick shot the man another unimpressed glare.

A little later, dinner was finished, and more drinks were flowing. Glenn began to clear the table away, and Michonne got up to help him. Soon, Rick was offering to help as well. Michonne gave him a questioning look that he pretended not to see as he scooped up empty plates.

“Well, that was great,” said Sasha as she leaned back in her chair. “What’s for dessert?”

“We’ve got warm apple pie and ice cream,” said Maggie.

“Pie’s nearly ready,” said Glenn.

“I’ll get the ice cream,” Michonne proffered.

“It’s in the cooler in the back room,” Glenn replied.  

Michonne nodded her head and then traipsed off, leaving the others to finish clearing the table. She stepped into the back room and switched on the light. The cooler was sitting at the back of the room. She walked over, opened the lid, and retrieved a tub of ice cream. She set it down on the small table that was off to the side and then heard someone approaching.

She heard the distinct sound of Rick’s footfalls. She’d recognize them anywhere. When she turned he was approaching her slowly. His eyes steely and intense; they roamed all over her body as he instinctively licked his lips. He stopped, tilted his head to the side, and regarded her for a moment longer.

“I like this dress,” he said in his deep, slow drawl.

“You followed me in here to tell me that?” she scoffed. “After all this time, that’s all you have to say to me?”

Rick inhaled deeply before saying, “I’m sorry. I miss you.”

Michonne would be lying if she said she did not feel the same.

“What do you want?” she asked as she stared Rick down. Her stubbornness was one of the things he loved about her.

“I think you know what I want,” he replied, keeping his gaze fixed to hers and his voice low. “And if you don’t want it, too, then just tell me to go and I will.”

Silence passed between them as they each stared at the other. Rick kept his expression firm, hiding that his heart was racing. She knew what he was proposing, so if she didn’t want the same thing, he’d be crushed; he’d respect her choice, but he would still feel awful.

Michonne knew what he was proposing. But she was there with someone else. She did miss Rick, though. Just being near him for the evening reminded her of how much she missed him.

“I want it,” said Michonne. “And I want you to stay.”

A smile broke out on Rick’s face. A cocky fucking smile and Michonne wondered if she was making a mistake; her good sense was telling her that it was. As he drew nearer, her good sense left her. Rick closed the distance between them and without warning, scooped Michonne up and lifted her body. She let out a little squeak and a giggle before covering her mouth with one hand and gripping onto Rick with the other.

He sat her down on top of the cooler, and then positioned himself between her legs. She draped her arms over his shoulders as they stood staring at one another. Michonne made the next move when her lips came crashing against Rick’s. She threaded her fingers through his hair as his hand trailed up under the hem of her dress. The kiss was desperate and feverish; all swollen lips and lapping tongues. Rick let out a little moan as they broke apart, panting in an effort to catch their breath.

Out of nowhere, Glenn walked in, looked at them with a smirk on his face, picked up the tub of ice cream, and then walked out.

“Shit,” said Michonne as she buried her face in her hands while embarrassment washed over her.

“You okay?” said Rick, before helping her down from the cooler. She fixed her clothing and then found herself in Rick’s embrace once again. He drew her close and peppered kisses all along her neck.

“Yeah, it’s just that I’m here with someone else, and so are you –”

“I don’t wanna be here with anyone but you,” said Rick, as he snaked his arms around her waist. “And if that kiss was anything to go by, I’m pretty sure you feel the same.”

Michonne bit her bottom lip and nodded her head before saying, “You’re right. I only want to be with you.”

“I really am sorry for everything,” said Rick. “Maybe this is a step in the direction of you forgiving me.”

Michonne ran her hands over the pattern of his ugly Christmas sweater and then said, “Yeah, maybe.”

[yodawgiherd]

Night out

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

I know this chapter is kind of short, but I promise that I will post the continuation of it soon, already got it all figured out. ;)

Enjoy!

Out of all sounds, he could come home to, woman’s scream would not exactly be Eren’s first pick. Confused about the source of the ruckus, he took off his coat and entered the living room, trying to locate and possibly defuse the situation before any furniture suffers the consequences of Mikasa’s wrath. She didn’t get heated often, but when she did, the strength with which she could throw, or smash things was terrifying. He saw her now, sitting on the couch in front of the tv, staring at the screen with murderous intent in her eyes. The cause of her anger could be seen now, as the large screen was carelessly brandishing the “you lose” words, proof of her defeat in the Tekken round she apparently just finished. Slowly, as if he was approaching a dangerous animal, Eren shuffled closer, sitting down next to her and clearing his throat.

“Lost a game huh?”, he asked, prompting her to laugh.

“A game? No. I’ve been losing for the last hour.”, she let out a defeated sigh, putting the controller on the floor and leaning back into the soft couch, “Dropped two ranks already.”

Yikes. From his own experience, Eren knew that losing sucks, especially a number of consecutive games where you get demolished and the opponent hits you with a big fat “EZ” after the match anyway. Dickheads. To comfort his crestfallen girlfriend, he put his arm around her shoulder letting her snuggle closer and leech off his body heat, as she always did. The shirt she was wearing was too big, as it was apparently formerly his, the neckline plunging low and exposing one of her shoulders, and that in combination with the fact that she for some reason wasn’t wearing pants couldn’t offer much warmth in the first place.

“You okay?”

Mikasa shook her head, still too devastated by her losses. And as the caring boyfriend he was, Eren could not let that stand.

“How can I cheer you up baby? Do you want something?”

That offer was finally met with some response, as she looked up, her pouty face looking right into his own, concerned one.

“I’m hungry.”, she stated, “Can we go eat somewhere?”

“Sure, do you know what you want?”

A bit of mischief sneaked into her features, and she shook her head.

“Not really, just someplace nice.”

Ah yes, the eternal question that occurs in every relationship. Where are we going to eat tonight? And it doesn’t matter that she says anything is fine because you know that everything you do, no matter what you pick, your choice will be thoroughly judged by a strict committee of one. And if found wanting, the consequences for the incompetence might be dire ones. Luckily for him, Eren had an ace up his sleeve, gained from an over-a-coffee conversation with Erwin, who pointed out an “amazing, modern and innovative” restaurant that opened recently, with the only drawback being that “it’s quite expensive there.” As money was not really a problem, Eren deemed it proper to use that ace now, while being confronted with the choice of today’s dining establishment, hoping that Mikasa will approve.

“A new place, huh?”, the offer itself at least intrigued er, as she was now chewing on her bottom lip with a thoughtful expression, manifested by her fine raven eyebrows being knitted together, “Did Erwin say what’s special about it?”

“Well, it’s a high-class society meeting place. If we’re lucky, we may run into a mayor there.”

The thought of that amused her.

“High-class? And since when are we high class?”

“We aren’t, but if we put on some fine-looking disguises, I bet that we can sneak in.”

As Mikasa was quite a sucker for adventure, that finally did it for her, and the place Eren picked was judged worthy enough of her presence for the evening. However, as he said, it was kind of a higher-class place, which meant that they actually had to get off the couch and go chance into something more representative. They would probably just stop her at the door if she tried going in her boyfriend’s stolen shirt and panties. Couldn’t forget that she wasn’t even wearing a bra, as she preferred to be free while staying home, both because it felt better and because it teased Eren. Win-win situation, really.

While being forced by society to wear a dress would annoy the teenage Mikasa, the current one didn’t mind it that much anymore. Especially lately with the modeling job, she found herself enjoying the feeling of wearing some elegant stuff, the very thing she used to despise. Maturity is a bitch. Lost in thoughts, she picked a dress and retreated to the bathroom to put some makeup on, again, an activity she was never big fan of, but spending so much time in the hands of professionals lately, she did pick up a thing or two and was secretly quite eager to put them to the test. First, she did her nails, black of course, as if that was ever a question, before moving on to the main part of the test, her own face. With a light hand, she added a few touches here and there, nothing too heavy, bringing out the best features of it. To add a bit of personal flair to it, and also because she knew that Eren liked it, she painted her lips with the usual black color, following it up with a bit heavier eyeshade. While the goth style of makeup was not as popular anymore, as she was told at the agency, Mikasa liked the aesthetic and didn’t see a reason to stop using it just because the majority did. Nothing wrong with being yourself. The dress she picked was dark, obviously and combined with black stiletto heels on her feet Mikasa was ready to go, being stylish while also staying true to herself, an ideal combination.

Leaving the bathroom, she could see that Eren was also dressed in a fitting suit, sitting on the bed and fumbling with his tie. He did look up when she entered, however, following her with his eyes as she crossed the distance to where she kept her modest collection of jewelry.

“You look amazing.”, he commented, making Mikasa smirk as she was putting her earring on.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” looking over her shoulder, she winked at him, “and it will be even better once u finish fixing your tie.”

With a chuckle, he returned to the task at hand, giving her time to pick a choker that went well with the dress, put on the metal cross from Levi and finally decorate her fingers with a few choice rings, fewer and not so massive that she used to wear during her hardcore goth period, but surely a bit more than other ladies would wear. Finished and ready to go, she was a bit surprised to see that Eren still hasn’t beaten his tie problem, frowning down at the unyielding cloth.

“Need a hand?”, she asked, doing her best not to sound too mocking. Just a little bit.

“My pride is telling me no.”, he sighed, “But fuck it. Yes, If you would be so kind, I would appreciate the help.”

Both to get closer and to fluster him a bit, she straddled Eren’s waist, leaning in close to inspect the mess he made. With deft fingers, Mikasa managed to undo the failure of a knot and retie it in the correct way, while he was left to just frown at her dexterity. And he was supposed to be the one with the magic touch. Right.

“So, ready to go?”

With her, he was ready for anything. Grinning, Eren nodded.

“Let’s go.”

The restaurant was truly a higher-class place, manifested by the fact that someone came to park their car, which reminded Mikasa of the time they spent at Tybur’s residence, the ball and everything that followed. That was fun. This time not forgetting to help her out of the car, Eren took gentle hold of her hand as they were ushered in by a well-dressed greeter, having apparently passed the clothing check. Maybe it was Erwin’s doing, or just that they were both quite known in the town, with Eren being the star surgeon and Mikasa’s rising fame in both the worlds of professional sport and modeling, but they were immediately led to a table and attended by a waiter, who wanted to know what the pair will want to drink. Mikasa, who spent half of her life drinking cheap beer or box wine didn’t even recognize any of the names on the wine list, so she hid her face behind it instead, letting Eren handle the mess to the best of his ability. However, he was no expert in the field either, but pointing at something that was named the least funny resulted in having a bottle brought to them, and after that the devilish waiter finally gave them a break, retreating and giving them time to pick their food.

“Ah yes, this is an excellent vintage,”, mimicking to the best of his ability the thing he saw on TV from time to time, Eren poured himself a little, circling it in the glass while nodding to himself, overall looking so snob that Mikasa had a hard time not laughing. Winking at her, he took a sip.

“Is it good?”, she asked when he fell silent.

“Well,”, he cleared his throat, “the flavor is quite fruity, and you can smell the earth from the…”

Mikasa kicked him under the table, giggling into her hand.

“Stop that! I don’t want to laugh this much!”

Returning her smirk, Eren shrugged, finally dropping the act.

“Look, Miki, it's surely wine, and it doesn’t taste bad. That’s about everything I can tell you.”

It really wasn’t half bad, and they made it about halfway into the bottle while looking at the menu, doing their best to pronounce some of the more exotic names and failing miserably, much to their amusement. The fits of laughter drew a few judging looks from the other patrons, but no one came to hush them. After placing their orders, kinda really having no idea what they just asked for, Mikasa took another sip of that arguably good wine, watching Eren over the rim of the glass.

“Babe, I have to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“I was doing a photoshoot recently, with the theme of like romantic and stuff, and I and a few other girls got to talking…”

“You are a gossip girl now?”, Eren’s eyebrows shot up, “Never took you for one.”

Just for a good measure, she kicked him under the table again and continued as if he didn’t say anything.

“We talked about our first kiss, and that reminded me, I never asked you who your first kiss was.”

“My first kiss?”, Eren repeated after her, “You want to know who it was?”

It was hard not to roll her eyes at him sometimes, but she made it.

“Obviously.”

“Well, if you want to hear that story, you have to share yours first. Who did you kiss first?”

Must have been the wine, but Mikasa felt her lips curl upwards into a flirtatious smile.

“It might surprise you, but It wasn’t with you.”

Leaning forward on the table, Eren’s green eyes met hers, and he smiled right back.

“Do go on.”

Judging that it was fair, him asking for her confession before giving his own, Mikasa drained her glass and set it back, throat wet enough to tell her story.”

“So…”