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endearng · 6 days ago

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About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensitive to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life.

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman.

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg

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yikesharringrove · 3 months ago

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Billy's always loved libraries.

He fucking loves books, has since he was a little kid.

But he just loves everything about them.

In California, he loved the air conditioning. He loved the fact he could find some random corner and not have to go home for hours and hours. He loved that he could read whatever he wanted for free. He loved that if he didn't actually take it home with him, his dad couldn't give him shit for the books he read at an alarming pace.

In Hawkins, it was a place to hide.

Nobody expected Billy Hargrove to be tucked away in the very back of the library, his nose in a book.

And to be fair, he hadn't expected Steve Harrington to be in the library, either.

Billy didn't even know his name the first time he saw him.

Steve had a cart next to him, and was reshelving books, humming quietly to himself.

Billy was fresh to Hawkins, and all he knew was that this town was shitty, and that boy was absolutely beautiful.

In a few days, when he was finally enrolled at the high school, he learned the boy's name.

Steve Harrington.

The stories about him were so different than Billy expected. The tales of the wild party boy, the wannabe bully with a short fuse and a shitty right hook.

Everything he had seen in the library was contradictory to everything he now knew.

Steve wasn't much of a presence at school. He was quiet in his classes, often daydreaming out of the window, or doodling sleepily on his meager notes.

Billy sat one row beside and two seats behind him in calculus, and he had noticed the large red grades at the top of each of his assignments. The low scores and the come see me! scrawled in the teacher's writing.

His ineptitude at school fit somewhere in the middle of the two Steves Billy had come to think about.

Mean party animal Steve didn't care about school. Didn't study and smirked at failing grades.

Library worker Steve blinked tears out of his eyes and stayed behind in class to explain to the teacher I promise, I studied so hard. I don't know what happened, I studied every night last week.

Billy had decided, he liked both versions of Steve. He liked the one with a snarl on his lips and a glint in his eye when Tommy H. said something fucking stupid. He liked the one who showed kids to the childrens' section with a soft smile and gave them a high five when they found a book to check out.

It took a few days for Steve to become aware of the shadow in the library, following his every move as he went through his shift.

The new guy at school. Billy Hargrove.

Metal head lady killer. Who gets into fights and flirts with everyone with a pair of tits.

Who sits in the library and reads Emily Bronté.

He smiled at Steve when they first made eye contact across the reference desk, and Steve thinks he must be imagining the wink thrown his way.

Billy had spread out on one of the desks near the back, his calculus textbook open, notes strewn about.

They had a test the following day that Billy was studying for.

Steve had kinda already accepted the failing he was probably going to earn.

But maybe...

Steve's shift is up in half an hour.

Luckily, Billy stayed put where he was, Walkman headphones over his ears, pouring over notes and example problems.

Steve knocked on the table top like a dork.

Billy looked up at him, and whoa, his eyes are so blue. He pulled his headphones down.

"Hi, uh, Billy, right?" Steve's face felt hot, but Billy just nodded. "Um, we're in the same calculus class-"

"I know. I've noticed you in there."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah. Well. I suck as math, and-"

"Do you want to study with me?"

And Billy liked the look on Steve's face. The eye-crinkled grateful smile. It was in between the Steves he knew. It was kind, but he laughed at himself easily.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I mean, I'm stupid at calculus."

"Nah," Steve liked the way Billy brushed off Steve's insecure commentary. "This shit is hard. You wanna do some practice problems?"

#this started months ago as something very different #but i LOVE some tutor billy/bad at school steve that's my FAVORITE #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #yikes writes

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copperbadge · 5 months ago

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TBH it was surprising when you mentioned you have difficulty knowing how others feel about you. You strike me as an incredibly likeable guy with an interesting life and viewpoint, and it seems your readers feel the same :) . If I lived anywhere near I'd love to hang out (or at least exchange cat pictures), but alas. Anyway, I hope you're having a good day and please give the kits a kiss for me!

Ah, thank you! That's a lovely thing to say :)

That's the curse of rejection-sensitive dysphoria though -- you're just never goddamn sure. Your brain wants to read everything other people say and do in a negative light, but you also know that's not correct. So it's one more axis along which you can't trust yourself.

Being unable to trust yourself is actually a really big part of ADHD. Specialists talk a lot about how people with ADHD can't trust their memory, they can't trust knowledge they've worked to acquire will be there when it's needed, they can't trust their reactions in a crisis, they can't trust their perceptions of others. I know, intellectually, that the people in my life don't remember 99% of the dumb shit I pull, but I remember it all in visceral emotional detail, which makes it difficult to believe in my soul that they don't. Do I remember the dumb shit they pull? No. Does that matter? Not to my stupid dinged-up corpus striatum, which is where the ADHD lives.

Even before my diagnosis I was dimly aware of this issue and so I did a lot of work on myself to make sure that I took a healthy attitude towards this, that I didn't try to manipulate people into reassuring me or lash out if I thought they secretly hated me. I remind myself not everyone will like me and that's okay, I remind myself that people who don't want to spend time with you don't proactively seek out your company.

But what that means is that while I for the most part don't suspect people of baselessly hating me, or at least don't act on suspicion when I do, I also just kinda...never know what anyone thinks. All I can really do is continue to assume the positive, and if that starts to fail, communicate openly about it. Which as coping mechanisms go is pretty healthy, like short of a drastic personality rewiring I'm not sure how I could handle it better, but the struggle is pretty real.

All of which is to say that I do appreciate the ask -- and all evidence in this post to the contrary I am having a pretty great day. It's Friday, the house is clean, I got paid today and I'm going on vacation starting Sunday. And I did just spend half an hour cuddling the kitties. :D

#sam has adhd

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death---dealer · 6 months ago

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um hi first time requester here i hope im doing it right. can you give us more noa x reader hedcanons please i'm so happy to find someone writing for him

Noa x Human ! Reader Imagines - Part Two.

Let's go babey round TWO. We are eating good today. This ended up being like 3 fanfics rolled into one. 5K+ Words haha. Likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated! Enjoy reading. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human ! Reader. Rating: T. ( Just for safe measure. Some mentions of aggression, mating. That good stuff. ) Read Part One Here.

Slow Burn Series: Customary. Gone Hunting.

**Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa singing to the Eagles. He felt like he never had the talent. At least, not in the way that his father did. What happened with Proximus Caesar months ago… Noa reflected on that and rested his hand down on the tightly knit together wooden branches that served as a platform high above the whole of the Eagle Clan. It had to have been a fluke of nature, maybe stupid luck that he was able to preserve and get his Eagle to cooperate instead of scratching his arm to unrecognition. Shuffling a bit to the right and out of the council's den, Noa noted that there were still some items that were out of place from the raid of his village. Some small jars tipped over, out of view to anyone who wasn’t looking for a mess. Bird feathers were fallen on the ground, flocking it beyond knowledge that there was even wood there. Noa, being so familiar here, knew otherwise but others would make the unsafe assumption that they were simply being held in animation by a structure made from bird feathers. Small bits of ash here and there from the fire, but the structure itself was able to be repaired to be used again. He was grateful for that.

It was… Where he last was with his father, where he had been crowned shortly after, blue feathers now adorning the band that encased his right bicep, where he felt he had time to reflect and dwindle into nothingness, to not be important because to himself, he rarely ever was and it seemed the feeling was only enhanced now that he was responsible for the wellbeing of everyone in his Clan. They came first, Noa came last. Protect them at the sacrifice of himself. Noa nodded at that, self-assured. He had just disbanded with his council, nothing of interest picking up through the muddled nature of his thoughts. Just talk about the repairs to the village, about the next round of young Apes who were going to be bonded with their own feathery friend… Most days, Noa felt inclined to participate, he was their leader now. But today, there was not a possibility that he could even engage in regular conversation.

He grumbled under his breath, and a few of the birds reacted purely to the sound, not necessarily to Noa himself; that was what he tried to convince his mind to believe as his own Eagle, which used to be his own fathers, landed on his shoulder. There was minimal effort put into the sounds as he began circling the room slowly, looking at each of the Eagles that rested there, so delicate and fierce on their perches. He wished to be that… Strong, unafraid, and confident. Puffing his chest out, Noa feigned fake confidence before ultimately blowing the air out of his lungs, shoulders falling in some mild defeat. He seemed to shrink in on himself before returning to his rotation of the room.

For every round he made with his feet, his vocals grew ever so gently in intensity, his mouth now making an obvious ‘O’. Apes were not known to be great at singing ( at least Chimpanzees ), but they were known to make communication with sounds. Singing was the only way to describe it, and it took Noa nearly a month to explain to you what the sound actually was because he was unsure of the word. He was too self-aware to actually demonstrate. A lot of back and forth ensued. It was not a hoot, it was not a holler. It was…. Humming. Almost, crying in sound. Screeching if he were loud enough. He wasn’t though. He kept it hushed, intimate and private between himself and his birds.

And you didn't have it in your heart to say anything or move, almost splayed completely on your stomach, trying to ignore the jabbing pain in your ribs from resting on the hard wood that served as a ramp upwards towards the Ape you had come to see. He had to have been at least two meters above you at this point, maybe more. It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He’d kick you out from being in such a sacred place to his people. Why you felt drawn here, why you wanted to see him… All rational thought disappeared when you heard him. Noa had told you that this is how bonding went. You sang to your bird in the same way the egg sang to you to be chosen. You hadn’t seen it in practice, until now. Glancing up, you could see the shape of his feet through some of the thickets of wood, a few feathers falling through the cracks and gracefully landing either on you, or nearby. Would he stop if he knew you were there? You wondered and clenched your jaw.

Most likely he’d stop, you figured. Noa wasn’t one to do this in front of others out of fear or embarrassment. The only time he did it was to save his Clan. He’d do it again, sure, but to sing for them ceremoniously was a terrifying thought that was inevitably going to come to fruition some day. He told you time and time again though, the customs, the crown that had been metaphorically passed down to him from his father, the burden, the great angst he felt knowing that it all rested on him. He never flat out expressed that’s how it was, how he was feeling with his inner turmoil, but it became more frequently observed the longer you were in the care of the Eagle Clan. You so desperately wanted to help him.

Grasping a feather in front of you between your fingertips, you propped yourself up to sit and then to stand. Giving one more glance up at Noa, you turned to leave, deciding that you had no reason to be there; you couldn’t come up with one if he put you on the spot. He’d tell you the same, you were so sure of that. But… There was one irrefutable fact in all of this regardless.

Noa knew you were there the entire time.

Noa offering you an animal pelt. ‘They get… cold.’ Raka’s words echoed for a long time in Noa’s mind as he peered over at you, observing the nature of your smaller frame sitting so intently near the communal fire of the Clan. Some chatter off to the side from some Apes also enjoying the fire, but they were out of sight, out of mind for Noa. You were so close that the roar of the flames pushed back the hair from your face, giving the male Ape an exceptionally good view of your expression, even from the distance he was at.

You even had your eyelids shut, he noted before turning his head back towards his hands, only momentarily before he was looking right back at you. You were truly soaking in as much warmth as you possibly could. The waves of light encapsulated in some elegant dance as the blaze flickered across your body. Noa was left feeling slightly mesmerized by that like he would float over to you if you beckoned him. You were covered, shoulders and below, draped in unfamiliar clothing.

Today was the first time Noa had seen you wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants that swept you up, almost consuming due to the large nature of them. You had tied a loose knot around the waist to keep the bottom piece from falling, but he did notice you picking them up here and there as you moved throughout the day. It was obvious that they weren’t tailored to your body, but when you had stumbled upon them and snagged them for yourself, you didn't want to complain. Any sort of clothing was valuable, especially as the winter was coming. There wasn’t much else to that, Noa thought to himself and rested what he was tinkering with down on the bench in front of him.

You seemed content enough, Noa dubbed and gave himself a small smile. It faded just as quickly as it came, the knowledge that someone could see him absolutely enamored like a fool begging for attention from his most desired… Was not very leader-like. Noa felt like he’d snap at someone if they were to bring it up, bring you up as if they had a right to talk freely about you. Well… The joke was on Noa. They absolutely had the right but that didn't stop him from thinking of ways to deter people from doing that. He cherished the jealousy and harnessed it into a protective shield. He cherished you and the feelings that subsided in both his mind and body.

Those seemingly unrequited feelings were what spurred him from his perched seat and setting a small pace towards his nest. You’d be okay for just a minute or two, he figured and scattered a bit more quickly. Shuffling in your spot, you had only taken your eyes off of him here and there as your eyelids rested shut from the tiredness that swept over you in waves. That’s what the heat did to you; made you tired beyond comprehension. Maybe, you muttered inside of your head, you’d just tip right over and fall asleep on the ground rather than making the needed transverse back to your nest of twigs, feathers and smaller animal pelts. You must have dozed off regardless of your train of thought because when you looked up at where Noa had been sitting previously, it was vacant.

You blinked. Something hung on your shoulders. You blinked again, hearing a small bit of heavier breathing coming from your left side. Just a few soft hooing notions to let you know that he was near, not a threat. Submissive, if that’s what you wanted. For a lingering moment, it almost felt like there was a hand, delicately moving against your left shoulder blade, pressing in and out as if probing you to make sure you were still alive, but with sleep on your horizon of your body, it was hard to determine if that happened or if it was what you wanted to happen. Wanted Noa to do.

With your eyes shut at the pleasant sensation of the animal pelt, you drew a deep breath in and relished in the added feeling of your lungs expanding so lazily; like you were being smothered and taken down into a dark but very warm point of interest. “Hmmm.” You murmured out loud. It smelled remarkably rich once you were able to process that along the teetering line of slumber. Like a conifer tree, vines draping themselves delicately over building ruins, grainy like the Earth. There was one more note there, something incredibly fragrant. Familiar and it caused you to grasp at the item around your shoulders to dig your nose closer to it. It was a smell you savored more than you cared to admit, but in your sleepy stupor, it was happily acknowledged verbally.

“Noa.”

He was rock silent next to you, green eyes wide with surprise at the surmise of his name falling from your lips. So… so nice, Noa thought to himself, head tilting to the side in a subconscious bid to get closer to you. There was an intense and increased magnitude of his stare when you pulled the animal pelt he placed around you closer. Closer, Noa seethed softly at that, so close to you, on you… On… His thoughts came to a slow pause as he just viewed you again. You were clutching at the pelt, holding it closed against your chest.

Tameless thoughts hit the young Ape like a wave coming from the absolute silence his mind had previously been in. What it must feel like to have you hold him, what it must feel like to have Echo hand in his fur, pulling him closer, closer. He would beg you, scratch you, bite you if you pleased. If that’s what you wanted of him. Noa had no idea where this surge of ideology, of aggression came from but he did nothing to dampen it. Not when it felt so viciously good to indulge in. His lips parted, sharp canines glistening so delicately in the firelight as he hooted again, not loud enough to wake, but loud enough for him to selfishly remind you that he was there. Yes, yes yes… He chittered, moving side to side on all fours for a second before taking a sharp pace to the right and then back to the left before sitting properly next to you, solaced and draped deliciously as he stared at you. The absolute desire he had to perform such acts, such… Such vulgarity…

He couldn’t stop, he-he… Didn't want to.

Noa welled at that, revered it and felt a sense of accomplishment. You liked it! No, no, he hooted to himself so quietly, taking time to observe you again to confirm his thoughts. You were loving it. He had seen you in various states before. Embarrassed, angry, flustered, minorly injured, reminiscent, but this… Was beyond anything he had seen before. Something stirred inside of him as he sat back, now resting his body against a log for support so he didn't need to put in active thought into keeping himself up-right. He’d wait until you were awake enough, the decision was made, and let you know it was time to go back to your nest for the night. Just a few more minutes, Noa bargained with the most introspective parts of his mind, almost beaming with primal pride that he was able to keep you satisfied. You were vulnerable.

Seeing his nest for the first time. Your lips parted, slightly dry from the air that rolled around the quiet village. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything as you stared at Noa who unwaveringly stared right back, waiting silently for an answer to a question just asked. But oddly, it felt like there was no question. Shock rocketed through you like you were being electrocuted. It started in your feet, feeling slightly numb before completely overtaking the rest of your senses. You felt blind, almost half tempted to put your hand out to touch something, you felt mute, a hard lump now sitting at the back of your esophagus and it felt like you would throw up if you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t hear anything outside of your own breathing which made you feel even more isolated. It was hard and rigid, you were nervous and trying to hold it in but it was untimely and bursting at the seams. You knew that Noa noticed and he either didn't put much thought into your reaction to his six signed words. Had you just seen his signing right? Maybe he said something different and your eyes were playing tricks on you! In broad daylight.

Do. You. Want. To. Come. In.

Mentally, you slapped your forehead out of meager frustration. Why did you have to follow him all the way up the platformed structure? Why didn't you stop yourself like you always did? It was not a permission you gave yourself; to be anywhere near his personal space. You’d meet in communal spaces, or out in the field Noa favored. Never personal, never too close… You must not have noticed your feet transition from grass to dirt to wood. You were so transfixed on Noa who sauntered back to his nest to grab something he had forgotten, that you followed blindly. Physically, you raised your hands before dropping them in favor of actually talking. It was quiet and reserved, Noa noticed and he found himself pacing forward just a bit as he had a harder time hearing it, wood creaking as it settled under his weight.

“You want me to come in?” Your voice came to a tapering squeak but you tried your damndest to keep it under wraps. You should have signed, you dummy… Deep down, you knew that Noa had observed that but what you didn't know with any sort of confidence was that he was forcing himself to ignore that heat-skipping a beat feeling he’s been getting more frequently around you. “I don’t know Noa, that’s your home, I would…”

“I…” He started slowly before raising one hand to sign reassuringly, ‘I… would like you to.’ It was your turn for your heart to do that infamous skip a beat. Swallowing hard, you dug your heels into the wood platform below your feet to keep you from floating off at the idea. No! You snapped, it wasn’t just an idea… It was an opportunity that was now given to you, Noa metaphorically holding his hand out to see if you would reciprocate in any form. He was offering you inside, to see Noa’s nest. Where he slept, bided his time, enjoyed solitude when his Mother wasn’t around, when Anaya was getting on his nerves, when Soona was pestering him in her typical sisterly fashion… You figured the question begged was just Noa being accommodating. You figured him telling you that he would like you to was just his way of being polite. Figuring you would not be comfortable to wait outside for him, knowing more about you that you cared to admit in the moment.

If all things went according to how you wanted them to be, you’d jump on that chance. But, you found yourself pensively contemplating if you wanted to step over that metaphorical threshold, this one in the shape of an entryway. The one that landed right in the palm of Noa’s hand. You’d be a bald faced liar if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t curious. Curling your fingers into your palms, you noticed that they were profusely sweaty. Would it be deemed rude if you denied him? If you said no, convince him you were fine waiting outside? You had no idea how he would perceive that, “Okay.”

Wait. What did you just say? Wait!

Your feet once again began moving without permission, gliding yourself right along Noa’s right side as he offered you to go on first, his hand gesturing repeatedly to the room. Quick in succession. There was no way he was excited, was there? The idea tickled your brain but you shoved it back and drew a deep breath in. From his perspective, Noa watched your rib cage expanding under the soft fabric of your shirt and then regressing back inwards slowly. Meditative breathing, he figured, to keep you calm.

There was nothing calm about this though. Your stomach felt like it was beyond the floor, now sinking deep underground, your ears pricked with anticipation. The fur on his bicep tickled at the bare skin of your arm, caressing and smoothing itself there as you were now shoulder to shoulder with him and you swore you felt his breathing against your neck when he glanced at you, counteractive to your own self soothing breaths. Hard, heavy and fast. Noa didn't know how to cover that up which was ironic because you were so convinced you managed to stave your nerves off.

You step over that threshold, you step over a line that was there for good reason. The rational part of your brain was so annoying.

You pushed yourself forward and with the blink of an eye you were inside. It was… Unremarkably remarkable. Nothing really popped at you, eyes processing through a darkened mess. Nothing in particular you noticed right off the bat, it was a dim lighting, the only two sources being a small fire pit that was begging to be put out, the pieces of wood small and frail, giving just enough energy to hold a mild orange hue and that of an opening to the right, reminiscent of a window of sorts lightly covered by a cloth. Sun peeped in and illuminated only enough to navigate and not pick apart any details. You smiled to yourself at that detail you were able to see. So, he did believe in privacy, why else have what you would consider a curtain? It wasn’t just an Echo thing like he so often pinned.

You shifted to the left and allowed Noa to enter right behind you. He was fast, hunching his body in on all fours, the pattering of his hands and feet entrapping you for a few seconds. He swept to the right, wanting to observe you in vague silence. In his space, green eyes narrowed as you stepped further in, your fingers coming up to touch a leather strap that was hanging against the wall. That was his hunting sheath, holding his spear against his back when out.

You were incredibly grateful as you felt your eyes adjusting to the lighting, able to see more details as you trailed along the left wall, almost as if you were afraid to actually dive further in. It smelt like Noa - Rich in flavors that teased your tongue. Trees surely, but trees bathed in sunlight in the late summer afternoons, smoke from the ashes of fires that burned endlessly, the absolute deepest part of the Earth that you could beckon… Shutting your eyes at that, you tried to document it somewhere in your mind. You needed to remember it, needed to recall this when you were alone later. Noa’s smell became so familiar, but being so near now, it was suffocating you and it threw an absolute chill down your spine.

Noa observed your fingers then raising, causing the Ape to perk up in baited anticipation of you saying something. Nothing came to fruition, but your fingertips were now held in animation against the feathers of his ceremony cloak, lightly placed on what appeared to be a small bench. It was splattered artistically with the blue feathers of the Eagles, the Falcons he had grown up with, admired. Friendly, you thought, with what appeared to be necklaces sitting right next to it, some with adjacent feathers to match the cloak, one holding a large engraved wooden pendant. It was so intricate and you felt the urge to run your fingers along the carved channels. All had been his fathers, tracing back several generations until it landed in Noa’s hands. Some of his most prized possessions. Hooting at that as if he were scolding you, fingers stopped touching around the feathers and you looked over at him, almost whipping yourself around, heart now jumping itself into your throat. He didn't mean to startle, but he just wanted to make you rightfully aware that what you were touching was a delicate garment. Your eyes told him you were sorry and so he allowed you to continue on.

You had turned your attention now to the tinker items he had stored. A few spear heads, some more dull than others, a few more tools that Noa frequented when something needed to be fixed. Against the wall next to his bench was an iron pipe, rusted from years of being exposed to nature. Fleetingly, you wondered why he kept it but didn't want to give off the impression you were judging him by asking why he did. Unbeknownst to you, he wondered so morbidly what you were thinking. Good or bad? Did you like it? Did you… Not…? Like his things? Noa couldn’t see your face, only your shoulders as you were turned away from him now, moving further into the room. Bad choice of sitting so far away from you, he thought to himself, scolding the immature mistake. He should have followed you around. Closer he was, the easier it was to see. He felt his fingers twitch as you came around and looked at his nest, queering it to be the next thing to inspect. Yes, please! Admire it. Say something about it! He yelled inside of his head. He wanted to ask you if you liked it, if you cared to share. If it was suitable.

Inappropriate to ask, Noa berated himself and sat back, realizing he had set himself in almost a pounce-like position.

Branches were spewed all over in a circular motion that tightly knitted itself as it got closer to the center, feathers from the eagles nestled deeply between thickets of animal pelts, some bigger than others. Rabbits, you noticed, maybe a fox as your eyes scored over a red hued pelt. One that was remarkably bigger than the rest; it had to have been a bear. Had he hunted it himself? You tilted your head and moved forward to get a better glance at it. It was a messy assortment and that felt strangely… Endearing. Noa was often quiet and reserved, not much to talk about himself he had told you, only answering your questions when he felt they garnered answers. You were getting more answers from this simple analysis of his nest than you had gotten with words before.

Noa remained silent, your body turning to face him as you were admiring, at least he hoped you were, his nest. His choice of pelts, his choice of comfort and security. You crouched down into a squatting position to get a better view at the nature of his nest. Taking in the smaller details that were resting there. Were you… repoaching him? He wondered with a tilt of his head. You had not said one word to him, did not raise your hand to sign. Did… Nothing. He did not know. He did not know what you were thinking. Frustration rose in him for a split second. He’d tear your head open just to know what you were thinking. Noa’s mouth popped into an open ‘O’ shape when he watched you place a hand on one of his animal pelts. He knew the outcome of that alone; it would smell like you and he was going to obsess about it when alone. He had something now, something personal, that held your scent.

You finally broke the silence and Noa felt a sheer force of relief hit him in waves, one after the other at each of your words, “Very Noa.”

Hm… His mouth fell, agape ever so slightly and you could see the glimmer of his canines as he caught the sun peeking through his make-shift curtain. His green eyes burned desolate holes into your own, Noa noting that you weren’t moving to break said eye contact. Carefully, he did so himself, afraid of some repercussions if he continued to look at you the way he was. Wrought with feral need. He forced himself back into the moment, back into what you said. Were your words an approval? It had to be, the tone of your voice was not aggressive, mean, passive… It was as gentle as he had heard it in a while, only recollecting once or twice that tone being used. Often, in conversations that were more affectionate than others. Rare, but Noa was familiar enough.

“Someday,” He rumbled, the sound of his voice pitching every which way as he was now scrambling to get his bearings. “Will share. With mate.” It had to have been your imagination to see him vaguely gesture to you at the word ‘mate’. Yup, just your imagination which was still running outlandishly wild at the prospect of where you were.. “With family. It is the way of the Eagle Clan.” You nodded, understanding that from previous conversations where he had opened up a bit more about his culture. The mere thought of him someday having a mate, a family, was a bit of a sting, but it wasn’t outside of the realms of reality. For the sake of the Eagle Clan, he eventually needed to provide an heir. And in order to do that, it required a mate. You'd lose him one way or another...

Noa looked over at you, enjoying the tentative feature that found your face. Noa crept a bit closer to you, trying to be as smooth as possible. Gliding is how he wanted to appear. Not to startle, not to intimidate but he wondered if you were by nature. After all, he was an Ape, you were human, together in a room with not any other creatures around. The absolute dissolution he could put you in, not knowing that you had the same power over him.

It was like he was stalking prey, you thought to yourself, Noa finally rounded the circular nest that you were still admiring. Or at least, pretending to admire as he placed his brooding body next to yours, crouching to the same level as to be face to face with him. His apparent scent only got stronger at that motion putting you into some brief tizzy. From the distance you found yourselves at, you could see the striking nature of his eyes in full force. Pupils were blown beyond comprehension, darkening only when he felt you tracing the features of his face. Around said pupils were a thin line of his regular green eyes, maybe a few specks of gold floating around. He was still child-like in some aspects, youthful was a better word. His brow ridge was strong, hereditary as he was always destined to be the leader of his Clan. Always destined to be the alpha. The swooping wrinkles under his eyes always gave the impression that he was tired, but being so close to him now, you saw them under hood eyes. He was begging silently.

His skin was varied in color; darker patches hitting his brow line, starting from his nose, upwards into his fur. There was a spot of normally colored skin on his nose, dipping in color when it met the fur on the sides of his face and around his chin. Very much like a human sporting a beard, you thought to yourself. The fur on his face was not completely shelled in darkness. It was remarkably lighter compared to that of his body and it accented his features perfectly in your mind. You lingered on his nose for a split second - never realizing it was shaped like a cartoon heart that you had seen in some children's books. Snapping your gaze up, you met his eyes again. Darker than they were before.

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Not intimidation. You had seen your fair share of intimidated Apes. Not angry. Also have seen your fair share. It was almost… Like he was languishing. You wanted to know what his features felt like under your grasp… You wanted to hold his face closer to yours and consume… An animalistic bearing hit your chest. Without remark, you lifted your hand up, breaking no eye contact. Noa let it happen, seeing the movement out of his periphery. You were going to touch him, he prepared himself for that, all nerves standing on end. The fur lining his shoulders rose in eagerness, his mouth still agape was mumbling something wordless, soundlessly. You were going to touch him. He was certain his heart was going to climb out of his chest. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his sanity. Noa preemptively shut his eyes.

Relief…

Never came.

Just as quickly as you decided to move forward, you were pulling back. Two steps, maybe even three. Noa squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before letting them open. You were gone, leaving nothing for him other than a pelt that smelt like you.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #noa x reader #noa x human reader #planet of the apes #pota #owen teague #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes #planet of the apes x reader

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bluehwale · 2 years ago

Note

I loved that unconventional meeting post could you maybe do a post where they realize that after meeting you for the first time that they might have a crush on you ?

ateez realizing they have a crush on you!

part 2 to unconventional first encounters with ateez (please read this first!)

pairing. ateez x reader (specifically f! reader for seonghwa & jongho)

genre. fluff, humor, teeny tiny angst if you squint

warning(s). injuries, drinking, mint choco ice cream slander, some of the endings are half-assed im sorry

word count. 8.1k oopsies

note. tysm for sending in this request!! and i'm so sorry it took so long to get to you </3 im an ungifted burnout kid so i write and think at a snail's pace lmao bUT i hope u enjoy this one :-D (feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ily all muah)

masterlist

kim hongjoong

here's the thing about hongjoong

he can be really cool with his skateboard and his obscure music taste and whatnot

but

he can also be a little bit out of tune with his feelings (this is a certified testimony from his self-proclaimed best friend, wooyoung)

it's obvious from how he has heart eyes for you but wouldn't make a move

"so when are you taking yn out on a date?"

hongjoong's skateboard halts in an abrupt stop after he suddenly plants a foot on the concrete to take a look at wooyoung as if he's grown two heads. "when am i what??"

and wooyoung’s just kinda staring him down like man, you can't be serious rn,,,,,

everyone and their mothers in this skatepark probably knows that hongjoong is basically head over heels for you because

it's just that obvious!!!!

and wooyoung has to resist from pulling out all of his hair in frustration because the man in question is eyeing him as if he’s the weird one

it all started after your Incident™ (you falling on your ass and having hongjoong help you)

you started to frequent the skatepark with your best friend mingi, and hongjoong even mustered up enough courage to ask you for your number one day

and now you both text each other every day >:-D

he even got you your own skateboard

and he also taught you how to skate hehe

he's so whipped

"hongjoong!"

the boy immediately turns to the direction of your voice (he can recognize it even while asleep) and he sees you waving excitedly at him beside an unfamiliar boy with pink hair

unbeknownst to himself, hongjoong's face lights up at the sight of you and he quickly pushes his foot off the ground to skate towards you

"yn!" he hops off his board and pulls you into a hug, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy before involuntarily pulling away to look at the boy with an all black get up beside you. “who’s this?”

“oh! this is seonghwa!” the boy with pink hair nods at hongjoong and gives him a friendly wave in greeting. “he’s mingi’s cousin. he’s visiting for a little while.”

“oh hello, cool skateboard!” hongjoong greets in return, gesturing to the pink skateboard by the boy's feet that contrasts his dark outfit and quiet personality, “i’m hongjoong! i hope we can be good friends!”

maybe not

hongjoong doesn’t know the reason why, but he feels this really uncomfortable sinking feeling in his chest whenever he sees you together with seonghwa

despite his pink hair, the boy looks very intimidating and it seems like he doesn’t talk to anyone except you

and whenever he’s with you, there’s a happy grin permanently etched on his face and you both just look so happy together—

“they probably like each other.”

hongjoong snaps his head to glare at wooyoung who’s munching on a pack of strawberry pocky sticks as he watches you and seonghwa before innocently looking back at hongjoong with a shrug, “what? i’m just saying.”

and hongjoong starts sulking because you know what,, wooyoung might be right :-(

(you, wooyoung, seonghwa, and mingi actually devised a plan to act upon your crush on hongjoong) ((and wooyoung's role is the catalyst to set the plan in motion))

and you know what,,,, maybe hongjoong does have a crush on you. yeah, but just a little bit—

“oof!” wooyoung winces when he sees you land a particularly harsh fall from your skateboard that leaves you lying face first on the ground, and he scrambles to shove the remaining pocky sticks in his mouth before thrusting hongjoong’s first aid kit towards the shell-shocked owner. “dude, go! this is your chance!”

hongjoong was just zipping up his first aid kit after grabbing his can of antiseptic spray and band aids and was ready to run to you until he sees seonghwa already tending to your wounds as he sits beside you

:-( he’s a second too late

(it looks like you two are talking about something or someone as both of your eyes discreetly flicker to hongjoong (who’s too upset to notice))

what he diD notice, however, is the pack of band aids in seonghwa’s hands

and he kinda has to crouch and put his hands on his knees so that his squinted eyes can see better

are thoSE

ARE THOSE BLACK STAR WARS BAND AIDS???

he thought cute graphic band aids were his– and only his– thing !!!!

dang it, and they look super cool too !! :-(

his own pack of pink disney princesses band aids fall to the ground as he dejectedly walks back to where wooyoung is and he slumps to the ground to place back his first aid stuff back inside the kit

looks like he won’t be needing them anymore :-(

but he still finds himself heading to where you are, and he can’t help it when he worriedly takes in your scraped elbows and knees that are covered by the black band aids. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m good,” you say, and hongjoong’s too distracted to notice you glancing at seonghwa who gives you an encouraging nod. you nervously twiddle your thumbs, “uhH, hongjoong, uhm. listen, do you– i MEAN, would you want to maybe grab some milkshake with me sometimes?”

“oh sure! who else is gonna be there?”

…………..

(on the other side of the park, wooyoung rips out the headpiece that taps into seonghwa’s hidden microphone and almost bashes his binoculars in frustration)

just then, hongjoong feels shivers run down his spine as he feels a pair of dark eyes glaring daggers into his back and he can feel the devil on his shoulder whisper harshly into his ear, “they’re asking you out on a date, idiot.”

(spoiler alert: it’s seonghwa)

“i was thinking maybe it could just be the two of us? you know? aHa but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to—!”

“no nO, of course !!! i’d love to!!!” hongjoong exclaims, shooting up from the ground from sheer excitement at the thought of getting milkshake with you

this is the best day of his life

“great, it’s a date then :-D OH SHIT—”

(another spoiler alert: hongjoong fainted)

park seonghwa

seonghwa can definitely see himself marrying you

but not during moments like this

"shh, don't move."

seonghwa lets out a startled noise when he's suddenly awakened by a weight on him, and he almost screams his head off until his bleary eyes slowly open to see your figure straddling his torso with what seems to be an ice cream stick (?) held in your hand while you inch closer to his face

oh! it's just you! :-D (he thought it'd be his sleep paralysis demon)

it had been your idea to buy a house and live together after he nervously got on one knee on your fifth date; which seems all too soon but it appeases both of your parents enough for them to shut up on the marriage talk, much to your and seonghwa’s relief

and after six months of living together, he's proud to declare that you're his best friend or more specifically, his soulmate :-D

which is why you both are comfortable enough to do oddly domestic things together

"baby," he rasps, voice still thick with sleep, before placing his hands on your hips to circle the skin over your nightgown with his thumbs. he lets slip an amused chuckle when he sees your furrowed brows as he holds you off from coming near him. "what are you trying to do, hm?"

"i'm waxing your brows."

seonghwa's eyes almost gouged out of their sockets

"you're what???" he snaps his head to look at the clock at the far end of the wall, all the while trying to push you off him. "why are you trying to wax my brows at… 2 in the morning??!!!!"

"no, because—" you breathlessly giggle at the panic on his face, struggling to get his grip off your wrists. "you'll thank me for this!!! trust me!"

seonghwa, mortified at the thought of you shaping his brows with only a single ambient light aiding your sight in the dark bedroom, thrashes his legs under you like a petulant child. "i'll have you know that my eyebrows get compliments all the time >:-( !!! now get off me !!"

"huh. they must be lying because you kinda look like the red angry bird, dude :-/"

∑(O_O;) !!!!

the image of the cartoon character pops up in his head; the red bird with thick furrowed brows comically pelting towards a wall of green pigs, stupefying his thoughts

his movements falter

"do- do i really.... look like an angry bird?"

"a cute angry bird," you reassure him, gently running your fingers through his hair when you see him pout after his grip on you loosen and his arms fall limply to his sides on the bed. "now, hold still okay? i'm gonna make you look super pretty!"

you dip the wooden stick into the pot of melted wax in the still plugged-in wax heater sitting on the nightstand, prepping the pink wax around the stick before leaning closer to seonghwa's face

"it's pink?" he softly asks, referring to the wax that he's only just now paying attention to, and you nod in reply

"of course! :-D it's your favorite color."

you miss the endearing blush overtaking his cheeks as you lightly slather the wax on his skin before moving to take a muslin wax strip from the pack beside you

seonghwa's hands are back on your hips (this time for his own comfort) as his wide doe eyes nervously peer up at you who's sticking the strip onto the slowly hardening wax on his skin, ready to pull

"w-will it hurt?"

"nah, you won't even feel a single thing. no need to worry :-D"

rip!

"yAAAAAOOOOOOOOwwWWwWCCcHCHHHHHCH !!!!!!! THAT HURTS !!!!!"

his head twists side to side dramatically and you have to prop your hands on his chest to regain balance on his shaking body and your own from laughing

"you said it wouldn't hurt!" he exclaims with an exaggerated pout, rubbing at the sore skin and his eyebrows furrow when you wouldn't stop laughing. "this is serious! you're hurting your future husband!"

"shut up," you playfully roll your eyes, the smile that seonghwa adores lighting up your face. "don't have to remind me that i'm stuck with your ass forever."

he grumbles, pulling the blanket to cover half of his face and hide the growing smile threatening to take over his face. "i'm calling off our engagement."

you dip the stick back in the melted wax as you hum, "you love me too much to do that."

"that's true."

this time, your cheeks grow hot as you attempt to recover from almost losing your grip on the stick, his statement having caught you off guard. he smirks at your reaction and you playfully swat his arm, earning a small ow! as you sarcastically quip, "how romantic."

you return to applying the wax on the areas of his brows that needs cleanup after your fingers forcefully drag the upturned corners of his lips downwards

"you know... i figured i'll just marry the first person my parents set me up with," he breathes, a soft smile lingering on his lips at your focused expression. "but if it hadn't been you, i'd go through– hm– i’d willingly go through 219 horrible ! horrible ! dates just so i could be with you."

"oh please," you snort, raising an eyebrow at his statement. "you'd probably end up with someone else if you went on 219 dates."

"you're right.... who could ever resist this scrumptious, absolutely handsome face–"

"i'm gonna make sure the next strip hurts twice as much :-)"

"yN ahaha PLEASE DON'T ahahah I WAS JUST JOKING—"

jeong yunho

"tonight is your first mission."

wooyoung twirls the pointing stick in his hand before slapping it against his open palm, calmly sauntering across the leeway in front of the big whiteboard in the coworking space he rented. "today's topic will cover everything you need to know, so i need you to listen very closely."

amidst the numerous empty chairs behind the large meeting table sits an eager boy with soft brown hair, his wide eyes taking in each and every word on the board while his right hand grips a pen— ready to take notes on the very important lecture wooyoung's presenting today

"but first, a pop quiz!" wooyoung suddenly smacks his pointing stick against the board, smudging the writing that reads dealing with drunk yn 101 written in pink dry erase marker and effectively startling the poor boy from the loud noise

"a- a pop quiz?" baffled, yunho feels the grip on his high-quality japanese brand pen slip. he scrambles over the table littered with his best stationery to prepare a crisp spiderman themed loose leaf paper, "but-but i haven't even learned anything yet!"

"hush, this is to test out your prior knowledge. now, i'll begin with a case study."

jeong yunho, a widely-known overachiever, strives to be the best; especially when it comes to things for you– which is why he currently remains unblinking out of sheer focus on wanting to get his answers right

he has to get it right!!!

"you're both in a cab to go home when suddenly," wooyoung aggressively taps on the stickman drawing that poorly resembles you on the board, "drunk yn sees a claw machine on the side of the road and wants you to win a stuffed animal for them. what would you do?"

what would i do? yunho can feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he desperately racks his brain for an answer that would please the red haired boy who has an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips

think, jeong yunho! think!

"i would... politely ask for the taxi man to stop and accompany yn to the claw machine—"

"WRONG. ddaeng !!!! man, how are you so down bad– sigh,,,,, dude," wooyoung turns to lean his forehead against the whiteboard and sighs before pulling out his wallet and moves to step out of the room. "i'm gonna extend another hour for this meeting room, brb."

turns out, nothing, not even wooyoung's 4 hour lecture, could ever prepare yunho for havoc personified

a.k.a. drunk you after a night of celebrating the end of your midterms

"noooo!!! oof-" you stumble against your dresser as you try to run away from the wide-eyed boy standing dumbfoundedly in the middle of your bedroom, your bottle of cleansing oil tightly gripped in one of his hand and your cleanser in the other

yunho rapidly shakes his head like a cartoon character to get his muddled brain back on earth when you ungracefully fall onto your carpeted floor and make no move to get up. he moves closer to gently pull you off the floor as he sighs, "you'll regret not removing your makeup when you wake up tomorrow."

"no !!!" you lift your head up at his words, your pleading eyes look close to tears and yunho panics at the sight. "i don't wanna! my eye makeup looks so pretty today!! i don't want it gone :-("

yunho had to refrain from grabbing one of your pillows and stuffing it in his mouth to muffle the scream that almost slipped out at your cuteness

he also almost screamed fuck it! and hop on the bed to cuddle you to sleep right then and there but he remembers that wooyoung would probably be disappointed in him and he also doesn't want you to be uncomfortable from the smudged makeup the next morning :-(

so he stands his ground and tries to think of something that would get your makeup off while still making you happy

"how about we take some pictures?"

and that's how you both end up having a full blown out photoshoot in your bedroom, with yunho lying down on the floor at a funny angle to take pictures of you posing on the bed with your phone while his own phone rests between his armpits (... don’t ask) to shine its flashlight for extra lighting

he can't help his own chuckles from escaping his mouth as he hears your giggles, his chest warming at the sound

after an estimate of 241 pictures taken, you're finally satisfied and allows him to help take your makeup off

"am i doing this right?" yunho nervously asks, gently rubbing the cleansing oil into your skin that slowly blends with your makeup as you dazedly nod, prompting him to take a hold of your chin to minimize your movement and causing you to giggle

"why are you laughing?" he smiles, watching your eyes crinkle as you continue to giggle softly

"i don't know. i just really really reeeeallly like you."

he knows you're drunk and it might just be a mindless statement and yet still, he can't help but freeze as he feels his heart skip a beat

he stops massaging the oil on your face

you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him—!

“uh,, actually that’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you. i- i like you too—“

“yEah yeah, i know!” yunho feels your hand blindly slap all over his face until you finally muffle his mouth, earning a glare from the boy. “you can tell me that tomorrow. noW get back to cLeansing!!”

yunho huffs and playfully rolls his eyes at you, trying to stop himself from grinning ear to ear while inching you closer to the sink so he can rinse off the oil, “aye aye ma’am.”

“noW uhguh–” you sputter out some water that got into your mouth, earning an oops from yunho, “you have to double cleanse with tHat cleanser,” you point at the tube of cleanser on your sink, “for at least 60 seconds.”

and when he finally lathers the face wash on your skin, he actually starts counting, “one, two, three, four, five, six—”

he'd do anything for you

kang yeosang

there are two things yeosang absolutely hates in this world

number one: your job

“i have to get to work, yeo,” you chuckle, “you gotta let me go.”

the android in question is glued to your arm, refusing to let you out the door by clinging to your arm and snuggling his face into your shoulder in an attempt of convincing you to stay

“You always leave,” the blonde pouts, his eyes glistening at the thought of always being left alone from every weekday morning to wait for you to come back at night. “Why must you go to work? Can’t you just stay here?”

sometimes, you forget that your android is supposed to be a boyfriend android – which is probably why he craves your company all the time

ok you feel a bit guilty now :-(

but you’re gonna have to work because !!! unfortunately, you need money to survive !!!!

“well, unfortunately–” you struggle to untangle yourself from his grip as you try to put on your shoes, “i have to work to get money so that i can buy food to live and pay for my electricity bills that keeps your battery charged.”

he grumbles and lets out a small yelp when you successfully unlatched yourself from him, “That’s so unfair!”

you shrug as your fingers grasp the doorknob to swing your apartment door open, “mhm, it’s called capitalism. see you tonight!”

you come home from work only to find yeosang missing

just as you were about to have your second mental breakdown, you spot a lilac post it stuck to your fridge that reads I’ll be out late. Dinner’s in the fridge. :-) in perfectly aligned and neat handwriting with proper punctuation– it’s definitely yeosang

but where could he have gone to???? you don’t even know if he knows his way around the city !! omg what if he’s lost and can’t find his way back home–

you hear the sound of your front door slamming shut

“Honey, I’m home!”

you immediately rush to your entrance door, ready to reprimand him for going out until so late at night, only to pause when you see yeosang dressed in a… bright pink polo shirt… with a blue apron that covers his front… and a matching blue cap that sits atop his mop of golden hair and wait a minute is that the baskin robbins logo???

“I got a job,” he grins at you, proudly tapping on the circular logo with the initials BR that rests smack dab right above the pocket of his blue apron. “They pay me to scoop ice cream into cups for tiny humans all day! Now you won’t have to work anymore!”

he’s so proud of himself :-D

this way, you won’t be as tired and he also gets to hangout with you all day long at home !! hehe

“you know… if you have a job, that means you’re gonna have to go work everyday,,, so,, you can’t really be with me either way :-/”

his face crumples at the realization

“Do you know the number of the Baskin Robbins down the street? I’ll have to tell them that I’m quitting.”

another thing yeosang hates the most in the world is: you going on dates

“strawberry for golden boy. target located and is currently approaching the table. do you copy? over.”

yeosang can’t really remember why he agreed on showing up with a fake mustache plastered above his lips and a black fedora hiding his blonde hair in the restaurant where you are to meet the guy you’ve been talking to on tinder for days

but anything to make you happy, he guess

sitting in a few tables away from yours, yeosang nonchalantly stirs the spoon in his overpriced cup of hot chocolate as he brings the dollar store walkie talkie upon his lips, “Are the codenames really necessary?”

“…”

he sighs, “Over.”

“of course they are! we don’t want our identities compromised! wait shit he’s getting closer now, i’ll talk to you later. over and out.”

yeosang squints at the guy sitting in front of you, scanning his admittedly handsome face to quickly run a background check on him

.... for safety purposes, of course

choi jongho. born in seoul. went to seoul national university. graduated magna cum laude. is currently pursuing his masters. non-existent criminal record. does environmental volunteer work on a monthly basis. can also ?? break an apple with his bare hands ??

yeosang gulps

this guy is basically perfect

his eyes flits back to you, the sight of you laughing at something jongho said making his stomach churn

and his eyebrows furrow because ?? he’s an android ?? he doesn’t even have an actual stomach so how is he even experiencing all of these overwhelming emotions— oh.

he’s jealous

“—and did you see the way he smiled at me?” you gush excitedly all the way back home, making sure your skips are on par with yeosang’s brisk walk. “he’s adorable! we already planned second date for next week and i’m so excited—”

“52 percent.”

you pause at your tracks, turning to look at yeosang who abruptly stopped walking. “huh? what was that?”

“You’re 52% compatible with Choi Jongho.”

“oh ! i guess that’s not too shabby. although, i thought it’d be a lot higher,” you bring a finger to your chin, deep in thought

“...You’re 96% compatible with me.”

THERE he finally said it

his electric motor is probably overheating from how flustered he is but, according to his system, it’s advised to confess to the person you like instead of holding back your feelings (source: wikihow)

so, he’s doing just that

it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have sweat glands because he’s pretty sure this street would’ve been flooded by now from how nervous he is as he asks, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

you stood in front of him with your eyes comically widened, and based on your silence, he can kinda guess what’s coming next

aha, looks like he's gonna have to shut down for the next 168 hours!

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you can forget it. I just wanted to let you know—“ “sure” “—that I like you– ...I’m sorry, what?”

you chuckle at his shocked expression, “i said yes, yeosang. i’ve actually been waiting for you to ask me that.”

(you ended up having to bring yeosang in for maintenance and pay a $150 fee because yeosang literally short circuited at your answer)

choi san

san finds it kinda hilarious how you’ve become his best friend, seeing as you seem to be the complete opposite of him

“what do you mean you hate mint choco??” san gawks, both of his palms lying flat against the glass encasing the freezer lined with tubs of various ice cream flavors as he turns to you with an incredulous look. “how could you even say that?!!!!!”

unbeknownst to san, the blonde baskin robbins employee behind the cashier register scowls at him, annoyed that he’s going to have to clean the fingerprint marks left on the glass

you snort, “everyone knows that cookie dough is superior,” you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the dark haired boy, “mint chocolate tastes like eating toothpaste with chocolate chips anyway. big yuck.”

“that’s ridiculous!” san, the official defender of the controversial green ice cream, exclaims. “how are you even comparing an oral hygienic product to food?? that’s not fair!! they don’t even taste remotely alike !!!”

“mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night, sannie,” you yawn, purposely flapping a hand over your open mouth to annoy him and you giggle once he starts to pout

“Excuse me," the inhumanely gorgeous cashier calls, surprising both you and san out of the little bubble that seems to form whenever the two of you are together, "are you ready to order? You’re holding up the line.” the blonde says, a grim look on his face

you smile apologetically at the employee who has a blue circular sticker on his uniform that reads new hire and you move to tell him the ice cream you want

while waiting for the employee to scoop your ice cream into a cup, you grimace when you look behind you to see a long line of teary-eyed kids with their glaring parents, probably because it's taking too long to get their ice cream

oopsies

you and san immediately booked out of there after he was done paying

“as i was saying,” san pops in a spoonful of his ice cream before continuing, “mint choco doesn’t taste like toothpaste,” you open your mouth, ready to object, but san took this chance to shovel a spoon of the dessert into your mouth, making you sputter in disgust of the taste and effectively shutting you up, “it’s toothpaste that taste like mint chocolate.”

you pause your steps before turning to look at him in disbelief, “are you even hearing yourself right now?”

he said what he said okay!! and he’ll stand by it ┐( ˘ ､ ˘ )┌

“sometimes…. i wonder what goes on in your brain… because dude, that does nOt make any sense at all.”

ok no, you know what doesn’t make sense?

it doesn’t make sense how san seems to think of you 24/7

when he strolls around the park and sees a golden retriever quietly mingling? that’s you.

the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee when he steps into his university cafe? he loves it because he thinks it smells exactly like you.

someone’s music leaking through their headphones in the hallways? oh wait, you two blasted this song in his car once.

grocery shopping alone? he better grab some of those birthday cake flavored oreos for you even though he hates them because he thinks they’re too sweet.

it’s just what friends do, right?

“what are we watching tonight?”

ever since you two became friends, it’s become a tradition to hold a weekly movie night at your place

and without fail, san always uses this time to try and convert you to become a mint choco ice cream lover

this would be his 12th attempt

“can we watch inside out?” you say, already munching on your microwave popcorn as you lounge next to him on the loveseat in your living room. “i feel like crying today.”

san almost jumps out of the couch to do his little dance

because you know what they say,,,,,,,,,

when you’re sad, eat ice cream!

and he’s gonna make sure you eat some ice cream, alright!! :-D

specifically, his favorite ice cream flavor that he's got in your freezer :-D

so, in the middle of the movie, right after bing bong tragically disappears into the abyss (san still sheds a tear despite this being his twentieth time watching the film) and he hears your tell-tale sniffles, he dashes off to your fridge and grabs the pint of ice cream he brought for tonight along with two spoons before returning back to stand in front of the tv screen

“fear not!” san announces, holding the pint of ice cream above his head while the other hand that is gripping the spoons is placed on his hip. “i have just the right thing to make you feel better!”

he excitedly pries the lid of the pint open and you groan as you wipe the tears under your eyes, “san, i’m really not in the mood to have mint choco ice cream shoved into my throat today—”

you’re cut off by san almost shooting through your apartment roof as he blankly stares inside the pint, “hUH?”

he furrows his brows when instead of the mint green ice cream, he’s greeted by the thick consistency of creamy soft brown ice cream with chocolate chips

it can’t be

why did he get your favorite ice cream flavor instead of his own?????

he hates cookie dough ice cream, and he’s a hundred percent sure he got a pint of mint choco chip ice cream— wait a minute,

“woah, they’re really everywhere,” san mutters to himself while looking at the shelves as he pushes the grocery store cart, “yn would love this!”

“love what?” his roommate, mingi, pops up, dropping a pack of a party sized barbeque chips into the cart

“yn would love this grocery store,” he says, referring to the newly opened grocery store they're in as he hums, “there's every product that’s endorsed by their favorite k-pop group in here. i’d have to take them here sometime.”

“at this point just date yn already.”

san glares at his friend, blindly reaching for what he thinks is a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with the thought of you stuck in his head, as always, “i don’t even talk about them that often !!!”

“sure you don’t.”

“is that…. cookie dough?”

“yeah, i guess— oof!” he falls to the ground when you literally jump on him

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BEST FRIEND?!!!”

after san’s reassured you that he’s still him and not some anti-mint choco san clone, you happily eat up the pint of cookie dough ice cream throughout the rest of the movie while san tries to reflect on the new found revelation that he has a crush on you

now, whenever he looks at you, everything seems to fade away and cartoonish pink flowers would appear around you and start blooming (he also hears a soft tune that goes lalalala~ in the background)

oh, and he also thinks he’d stop eating mint chocolate chip ice cream just to appease you

his friends are right, he is a simp

song mingi

long story short… you decided to move into mingi’s 2 bedroom apartment to escape from your insufferable roommate !! :-D

it had been the boy’s idea because you two meet each other literally every single day and so he thought hey, living together doesn’t sound so bad !!! you should just move in with me!! i have a spare bedroom that’s been empty for a while !!

and so you immediately packed your things, left your roommate gaping when she saw her previous one night stand awkwardly waving at her as he helped you load your things to his car, and never looked back

now you’re both currently skipping down the street en route to the local farmer’s market because mingi swears that they have cheaper and fresher produce compared to any grocery store out there

you both stop at the first stall you see

“dude, check it out :O” you point at one of the corns on display, “that one totally looks like nanami :O”

he tilts his head as he tries his best to discern any similarities between the crop and your favorite jujutsu kaisen character………. only to come up with nothing

“hm. i don’t see it.”

“no, no!” you jump up and down, hands flailing everywhere as you try to gesture out corn nanami’s features. “you see! the corn hair is, well, obviously his hair, and the green jacket kinda looks like his suit don’t you think? and oh–”

to any nearing passerby, it seems like you two are a pair of excited newlyweds who were highschool sweethearts as mingi gazes at you fondly as you continue to ramble on about the corn-nanami doppelganger

which sounds totally stupid, but he doesn't mind at all

having been too entranced by whatever it was you were saying, mingi only snaps out of his fixation on you when he realized you caught on to his staring

he clears his suddenly dry throat and his eyes flick to anywhere except you. “ehm, e–EHm yeah right,, i guess he kinda looks like, uh, that corn.”

you playfully bump your side into his arm as you exclaim an “I KNOW RIGHT” and you accidentally start a bump fight when mingi starts practically shoving you back (he sometimes forget just how big he is) and you’re both just giggling at each other like stupid kids until—

“what a good-looking couple! i’ll give you two a discount! :-D”

mingi feels you freeze up against him and shake your head at lightning speed, “oh, we’re not… we’re not a—“

“how much? :-D” he interrupts, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer as he grins at the stall owner who starts cooing

meanwhile, you resist the tempting act of whacking him with your reusable tote bag

and you may be trying to tone down the heat on your cheeks bUT that’s besides the point !!!

you’re not a couple

yet

“how cute!” the stall owner squeals, and you can nearly see the dollar signs in her eyes as gullible mingi fails to see beyond her sly marketing ploy. she hums in contemplation, “hm, maybe i shouldn’t favor you two. wouldn’t be fair for the singles out there, am i right?”

you nervously chuckle, “that’s perfectly fine!” you try to push mingi to move along the market but it’s like his feet are immediately rooted to the ground once he hears compliments directed at you both. “psst mingi, move your ass— aha i’m pretty sure we still have some corn back home anyways—“

“do we really look cute together? :-D”

cue you smacking your palm against your forehead

“why of course!” the woman nods her head eagerly, “absolutely adorable. and especially with a fine handsome young man like you!” she turns to look at you, ��he’s a good one. don’t lose him, dear.”

dang, maybe you should ask her which business school she went to because her marketing skills are just straight up fire

mingi knocks his head back as he lets out a hearty belly laugh and if you squint hard enough, you can spot the pink dusting his cheeks. “ah, you flatter me too much, ma’am!.... please tell us more about how cute we look together! :-D”

… he ended up lugging an abnormally large sack of corn all the way home

“people probably think we look like a cute couple all the time, huh?” mingi grins to himself during dinner, eliciting a glare from you as you take another hesitant bite of the… weirdly edible grilled corn salad

your bowls of corn soup and corn rice bowl (don’t ask) along with a cup of sweetened corn for dessert remains untouched while mingi scarfs down his own like a mad man

you don’t even want to know how he’s been surviving on his own

“remind me to never let you grocery shop again,” you grumble, stabbing your fork into the bowl of corn salad as mingi stares at you, finding your anger cute somehow

huh… that’s weird

why does he think your furrowed brows and the aggressive chewing behind your pouty lips are the cutest things ever right now?

uh oh

your heart practically leaped out of your chest as you yelp in surprise when mingi suddenly stands up from the dining chair and sprints to his room without a word

???

you resume back to eating your food

meanwhile, mingi grabs his laptop and looks up a love meter website to calculate love percentage while trying to calm down his erratic heart rate

he quickly types in his and your names into the website and crosses his fingers with his eyes shut as he waits for the results

ding!

he opens his eyes and excitedly reads the words on the screen

90%! Love is in the air!

:-D <3 !!!

“mingi… why are you sitting on my lap.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

jung wooyoung

“i’m feeling lonely ♫ oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me ♫ now i’m crying in my room ♫ so skeptical of love ♫ but still i want it more, more, mOre ♫ i give a second chance to cUPID–”

“sing that song one more time and i will shoot you with an actual arrow.”

“hmph, meanie :-(“

usually, wooyoung would sing along to that stupidly addicting cupid song you always sing whenever you’re with him

but right now, he’s a man on a mission !! and he’s very serious about it

“i need absolute silence,” he mutters quietly, his eyes zeroing at the very serious task in hand with his brows furrowed in concentration

“you’re being dramatic.”

his head snaps up to look at you with a glare. “excuSe me? i’m sorry that i’m the only one who obviously has a passion for art here!!”

and by art, he means frosting heart-shaped sugar cookies

this is like, one of the first few human activities he’s doing !! so he wants to actually be good at this !! (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

he doesn’t know why but he really wants to make you proud :-(

you stifle a giggle when you see his hands practically tremble as he continues to squeeze out the pastel pink frosting from the piping bag onto the heart-shaped cookies

how cute

you walk over to him and gently wrap your hand around his that’s currently holding the piping bag with a death grip, making him let out a small yelp in surprise

“you need to relax,” you softly chide, helping him loosen up his grip to gently guide him into pressing the piping bag properly

meanwhile, wooyoung’s trying to refrain himself from jumping out of your apartment window and flying to mount olympus because he can feel your breath on his neck and his heart is beating a little too fast and omg you’re so close to him &:&;;’js!

honestly, this isn’t the first time wooyoung’s felt this way towards you

it’s just,, he just feels so carefree and himself whenever he’s with you

and also because he thinks you’re the best human ever

and that you have the most beautiful smile

and that if he tries to personify love, the first thing that’d pop up in his head would be an image of you with crinkled eyes and a smile, your twinkly laughter ringing in his ears

but he’d rather let zeus zap him on the butt with a thunderbolt than admit that

“see!” you let go of his hand to excitedly gesture towards the pink cookie you helped him with, “you can do it if you let yourself have fun a little ! this one actually looks pretty decent :-D”

he already misses the warmth of your hand

“are you saying the ones i did before look bad?” he raises a brow, and your eyes nervously flicker to the tray of heart-shaped cookies that looks like it’s been frosted by a kindergartner

you start sweating

“nO of course not aha!!!! haha!!!!” he narrows his eyes at you. “okay not even gonna lie but, they do look kinda bad I’M SORRY”

he huffs, offended. “it's aBstract!”

“it’s lopsided.”

gasp D-:

you laugh when he aggressively rips off his apron before sulking, “i hate baking.”

but he knows that he’d do anything to become human; to leave his cupid errands just so he could be a regular boy who dreams of opening a bakery down the street

and in this alternate universe he’s envisioned, he’d actually manage to do it and that’s where he would first meet you

with his hands coated with flour and him sporting a messy apron, a boyish grin on his lips as he tells you that the small bag of pastry in your hands is on the house and he’d watch as your cheeks endearingly heat up

and then this alternate universe wooyoung would lean against his sleek car as he waits for you outside your apartment for a set date to an amusement park, where he’d win a giant teddy bear for you from one of those rigged game stalls

and he would try his best to make you the happiest you can be every single day

but in this life, he can only distract himself for so long from your fate that's set in stone by the red string intertwined on your pinky finger that stretches out long and far outside your apartment door— a painful reminder of the first thing his mother’s ever told him about love,

that it is never fair.

(he looks at his own gray string looped around his pinky with its short length frayed around the edges before glancing over to you who’s packing the cookies in a tupperware for him to bring while he does his cupid errands, and he knows he doesn’t regret falling for you even though he knows how it’ll end.)

choi jongho

“what do you mean you can’t go????”

jongho may or may not have tears in his eyes right now

“look, man. i really am sorry, i know we planned this weeks ago but it’s an emergency,” mingi sighs from the other line of the call, sounding genuinely regretful. “i really can’t go.”

“the new jujutsu kaisen movie drop isn’t an emergency, hyung.”

“it is !!!!!” mingi exclaims, and jongho wonders whether he’s actually a year older than him. “and i have to be one of the first people who watches it so i’m not exchanging my movie ticket for anything else.”

wow

this hurts even more than the top 10 anime betrayals :-(

“you know what? you should go do it with yn instead. you two look cute together.”

record scratch

jongho almost drops his phone placed on his ear as he feels his cheeks flush a bright beet red. “whAt !!” he squeaks.

“‘kay! i’ll talk to you soon !!!! have fun on the date hehe :-D” beep.

see… the thing is…

jongho really looks up to mingi

he’s his favorite frat brother !!!!!

and so, he finds himself sitting on the couch of your apartment right after the call, obediently following his hyung’s suggestion

curse his soft, compliant heart

“choi jongho, are you asking me out on a date?”

“-!” jongho chokes on his saliva, sputtering out unpleasant noises before bringing his fist to his chest, “n-not a date!” he manages to choke out and you grin cheekily at him. “it’s just a paint & wine class that i was supposed to go with mingi hyung but he ended up bailing, a-and it’s non-refundable and i’ve already paid in full so i’m basically forced to take you instead–”

“yeah yeah,” you dismissively wave a hand at him, already sprinting to your bedroom to get ready. “whatever. i guess i’ll agree to go on a date with you.”

“IT’S NOT A DATE!”

jongho doesn’t know when it all started

after his frat party, you two somehow always meet each other in every party he goes to and you’d both hangout in the corner of the room together, enjoying each other’s company and leaving together when the bass of the loud music finally deafens your ears

and soon enough, you have his number and he has yours, and the party hangouts turn into lunch hangouts that happens almost every day (he looks forward to it and will sulk when he doesn’t meet you at least once a day)

you also like to give him free iced americano and savory pastries from the cafe you work at !! :-D

safe to say, jongho likes you

uH, as a friend !!! of course

yeah

just as a friend

mhm

“psssst, jongho,” you whisper from across the table, stifling a giggle as you eye the other people attending the paint & wine class. “i think you need new prescription glasses.”

“if you ever mention this to wooyoung hyung, i’ll revoke our friendship,” he grits out before chugging his glass of red wine, the tip of his ears flushed red

turns out, jongho had accidentally booked two spots for a paint & wine class reserved for the elderly (which, jongho thinks, is a stupid idea because why would they let old people have a night of free-flow wine????)

the painting instructor actually felt so bad for him that they allowed you two to join the class anyways

so here you are, sitting in the two seat table smackdab in the middle of the room with everyone’s eyes on you

it also doesn’t help that you two decided to dress super fancy as a joke for the night, with jongho wearing a crisp dark gray suit over a white button up that’s barely buttoned and you with a white floor-length evening dress under the apron they gave you

it looks like you both just ditched a wedding or something

which is precisely the look you two are going for !!! :-D

and honestly, his hyungs can tease him all they want for all the mini adventures he does with you but he’s truly the happiest when he’s with you (he will never say this to your face)

“look at what i painted!”

jongho looks up from his canvas to see you pursing your lips in concentration over yours, your hand tightly gripping one of the paintbrushes as you finish up some small details before turning the easel to proudly present the A4 canvas to him. “tadaa!”

the reference for today’s class is an acrylic portrait of a brown kitten and jongho personally thinks he nailed his own rendition of the painting projected on the projection screen in front of the room so he’s really excited to see yours!!!

uhm

“...........yn, that’s not the painting we’re doing today.”

you nod, “i know.”

on your canvas, you’ve painted what looks like a hut with three beds all in different sizes, a dining table with three different sized bowls of porridge, and a family of brown bears with a little blonde boy—

"did you seriously paint me as goldilocks?”

you grin cutely at him, “i did!” you point at goldilocks-jongho on your painting, “you’re with your bear family now! isn’t it cute? :3”

(jongho’s trying his best to not bash his head through the canvas because !!!! nu uh nope nO, he definitely does not like you !!! not at all !!!! it’s just the wine doing things to his brain—)

“and i also painted the bears’ bed sheets purple because it’s your favorite color! and— oh shit.”

a loud clink echoes throughout the room, making everyone's heads (yes, the paint instructor as well) turn to look at your table

…………………

you accidentally plunged your paintbrush in your wine glass instead of the plastic cup of water beside it

both of your eyes widen at the sight of the purple paint staining the red liquid in the expensive glass

and honestly, you can probably just ask for a new glass of wine and apologize for this tiny mistake and it’ll be like nothing ever happened (except for the fact that you'll be embarrassed for the rest of the night)

but where’s the fun in that?

you exchange glances before jongho abruptly stands up from his chair, grab both of your canvases in one hand, and interlaces the other with yours as you two run out of the room, both of your laughters ringing throughout the hallway

“that’s so embarrassing!” you yelp, slamming jongho’s car door behind you before he turns on the engine, quickly backing up from the parking lot to drive away from the building. you groan as you lean back on the passenger seat, “please don’t ever take me to another paint & wine class again.”

jongho can’t help but chuckle at your flustered expression as he carefully place the canvases on the backseat without his eyes leaving the road, “i actually think that was pretty fun.”

“should we get dinner?”

“sure, i know a place. we could pretend we’re having our first anniversary so that they’d give us free chocolate lava cake.”

“are you just using this chance to pretend to be my boyfriend again?” you tease, trying to hide the smile on your face

“why are you so shy about it? we literally made out once–”

“I TOLD YOU TO NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN!!!!”

taglist. @ad0rechuu @diorwoo @jaehunnyy

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez requests #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez oneshots #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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abbysbasement · 2 years ago

Text

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

— PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table.

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends.

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean.

And somehow, despite everything, it worked.

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago.

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!”

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed.

“Not interested, sorry.”

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off.

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit.

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?” She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence.

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay. She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way.

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod.

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns.

“-And, and! I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.”

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one.

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed.

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily.

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest.

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery.

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed.

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house.

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off.

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room.

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs.

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

It’s fun being sardonic sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass. She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well. Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell.

–

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right?

Whatever.

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.”

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely.

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing.

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body.

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in.

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall.

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies.

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum. Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up.

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line.

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it.

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.”

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity.

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin.

You jumped.

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage.

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself.

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.”

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed.

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants.

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands.

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness.

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips.

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots.

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.”

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real.

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly.

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more.

She obliged.

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else.

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection.

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly.

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it.

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold.

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow.

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers.

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it.

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again. You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes.

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone.

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile. Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants.

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips.

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint.

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on.

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming.

Yeah.

#tiki writes #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader

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howmanyholesinswisscheese · 6 months ago

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More Sherlock & Co Headcanons

Because y'all like the first ones so much.

Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.

John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.

When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.

John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.

Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.

Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.

You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.

@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.

John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.

Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.

Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.

Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.

John makes the cutest sleep noises.

Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.

SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE

Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.

AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.

Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.

#please i have too many they are literally exploding out of my head #the innocuous domestic ones are the worst i see them EVERYWHERE #NJKGLG AAAAAAA #i probably need help #ive not proofread this post at all but yk what im posting it #sherlock and co #sherlock & co #jonk watson #sherlock holmes #john watson #mariana ametxazurra #johnlock #jonklock #podlock #sherlock and co headcanons #arter speaks

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personwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Unforgettable wedding

Platonic TF 141, Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader (18+)

Wc: 6.1k

Cw: Drinking, fingering,vagial sex, unprotected sex, sex in car, slightly possessive Ghost?Teasing, strong language, No use of y/n

Nicknames given: Princess, Doll, Good girl, Baby

Summary: A high school friend (Rachel) invited you to a wedding, you declared you had a lover but actually didn’t. You asked Soap, Gaz and Price to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding. Price agreed after some talking, but canceled due to an emergency. Leaving you to answer questions and peer pressure from friends. Until.. Ghost shows up, pretending to be your boyfriend. Things go okay, games are played and kisses are shared. When he notices you starting to get drunk, he offers to take you home. Little did you know that ‘ride’ home would change everything that involved him..

A/N: I uh… yeah at the last part my mind went blank and uh, lost idea of what i was writing and it turned into something else.

It was a high school friend who was getting married, you kept in touch with them even if at times they were toxic towards you. They added you to a group called “invitations” announcing their wedding. You didn’t see it till two days later, you were busy on the mission that involved your whole time and attention. No one from your personal life knew what job you did, if anyone asked you would brush them off and change the subject. So it came to surprise you, Rachel had invited you to their wedding and you're just now responding.

You: I’ll see if I can make it, I need to work some stuff out first.

Rachel read your message along with other few close friends from the group. You set your phone down not expecting much as Soap approached you with a grin on his face and a can of pop in his hands.

“Las, you have any plans for the week off?” Soap asked as he took a seat next to you. “I've been thinking about visiting my family.”

“Probably nothing like always, which is fine.” You reply while soap opens the can of pop. “Are you seriously drinking that ten month soda?”

“It's called pop, and matter in fact I am.” Soap relies as he drowns the sugary drink. “You seriously don’t plan to go somewhere?”

You open your mouth to reply but your phone buzzes, which you turn over and look at the notification. It's from the ‘invitations’ group chat, it suddenly became active, you open your phone and look at the messages. Your eyes widen as you read the message to yourself, Soap notice and look over at your screen.

Rachel: That’s fine, you probably don’t even have a plus one, so you save us the food for that! I would appreciate a gift or some flowers if we ever meet up again. Xoxo

Soap tilts his head as you start to type something, someone else in the group chat sends a message. Leaving you to gasp and stopping you from sending another message.

Jason: Yeah it's fine, plus you never have time for the group anymore. Anytime that we plan something you always respond late..

You: Because I have to tend to important matters and don’t have time to be on my phone. Anyways I will come then! I will see you all there and hell I will bring my partner!

You didn’t think of the message you sent, until Soap gasps and looks at you in surprise.

“You have a lover?” Soap now asks as you quickly realize what you just sent. “I never knew that.”

“I.. didn’t either..” You mumble and set your phone down. “Shit.. oh god what did I just do.. Soap be my fake date please you're the only one that knows.”

“No can do, I already have my week planned out with my family.” Soap says before chuckling. “Good luck with that, now if you..” Soap burps and holds his stomach. “I'm going to regret drinking that pop.”

Soap gets up as your phone buzzes again, it's a message from the group chat again. This time it was multiple people typing all now excited you will be tending the wedding that was three days away. You nervously bit your lip and read the messages, everyone excited to meet this lover of yours that didn’t even exist. Rachel soon gave you the details of the location and what type of theme you could wear that is appropriate for her wedding. You thanked Rachel and soon turned your phone off and took a deep breath, now where could you find a single man that would be willing to be your pretend boyfriend.

Three hours passed and you were doing some of your daily duties where you met Gaz in the hall. He was heading to lunch alone and crossed paths with you.

“Hey, are you going to lunch yet?” Gaz asked you with a warm smile making you look up from whatever you were doing. “Price and Ghost are there.,”

“Maybe in a couple more minutes, I gotta finish..” Your reply and sigh before looking at the boxes you were carrying. “..Ah this can wait.. You know what's for lunch?”

“The same crappy food that's for sure.” Gaz chuckles as you start to walk with him. “You look uneasy..did someone say something to you?”

“Uh no..” You mumble and then get an idea. “Would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a wedding?”

Gaz stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you, thinking he misheard. You give him an awkward smile and look away now your face filled with embarrassment. Gaz remains silent, he was trying to process what you just said and making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to be your fake boyfriend at a wedding?” Gaz murmured now amused by the thought. “You should have asked me earlier before I made some plans for the week.”

“Damn you too?” You say now in some annoyance. “I asked Soap but he said he already made some plans.”

Gaz let out a small laugh before walking again, soon the two of you arrived at the mess hall. Price by then had already gotten your tray with Gaz’s knowing you would join him and Ghost. You sat down and ate, nothing too important was discussed at the table, Gaz and Price were chatting about some rookies, while Ghost leaned back in his chair and listened to them. While also looking around as if he was looking for some trouble he could stop. Gaz soon brought up what you said that made you snap back into reality.

“Wait wait, you asked Gaz to be a fake boyfriend for a wedding?” Price now asked you with an amused look. “And you also asked Soap?”

“Yeah, it's just someone's wedding from highschool.. We are a friend group..” You mumble now embarrassed by all of this. “I said that I would go since their group pointed out that I never hang out with them anymore.”

“How can you? You're working away on missions to keep their perfect lives safe, they should be grateful.” Gaz says, shaking his head for a moment. “Can’t believe people sometimes thinking its easy to be in the special british forces..”

“The thing is that they don’t know what job I have..” You admit to Gaz as he lets out a laugh. “I like to keep my work life out of my personal life.”

Ghost looks at you know, he seems to be somewhat interested in what you said, Price laughs a little as you told them. Gaz on the other hand nodded, he knew what you meant and respected it.

“Wait Price, will you be my fake boyfriend?” You ask him quickly with some hope. “Please?”

“Now I would love to help you out of the mess you're in..” Price says taking a bite out of some burger.”But, I can’t do such a thing, especially something like that.”

“But it won’t be real!” You add quickly, seeming more desperate. “Please I’ll be less reckless on missions.”

“You should always be less reckless on missions.” Price points out before letting a sigh. “But okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, your mess now being fixed by your one and only captain. Yet boy were you wrong, on the day of the wedding Price canceled on you and apologized, an emergency had come up and you were left out without a date and the wedding was going to be starting soon. You stood outside the church and groaned softly as you saw the rest of the people arrive for it. One of them being Jason from the group chat, he had a date with him and he looked at you in a polite manner.

“No date? Things sure don’t change even out of highschool.” Jason teases as he walks into the church.

You stare at him for a moment and roll your eyes before entering the church yourself. You felt some people stare at you, it was obvious word got around that you would finally show up to something. You took a seat at the last row of the chairs and remained there for the rest of the wedding, eventually clapping and cheering the bride and groom. In the corner of your eye you saw someone, a dark figure you couldn’t make out, you brush it off as a guest. People started to head to their cars, getting ready to drive to the reception a couple minutes away from the church.

You felt as if someone was watching you, just you. The feeling didn’t wear off as you started to drive to the reception. You felt a car follow you, but the tint on its widows made it impossible to see who was driving. You took a turn into the reception parking lot and parked next to some other people. The car that was following you drove off, making you feel silly for thinking someone was following you.

The reception was beautiful, the place was decorated like any bride would want their reception to be. Yet when you found your name on a table you saw it was at the end of then with an empty chair next to it, you sat down and placed your bag down on the empty seat. Some friends approached you and talked about their lives, one of them made it into the fashion industry and the other was a chef that helped prepare the food for the wedding. Then it came time for you to talk about your job and how your life was.

“Honestly I have a plain life, nothing too important.” You say as attention is on you. “Plus I'm happy you all have successful careers.”

“Yet you never speak about your life, you always keep quiet about it!” One says looking at you with a tense stare. “Are you poor?”

“No..” You say hurt by their comment. “I'm well off of money..Rebbeca..”

“What happened with the partner you had?” Rebbeca asks, pushing you into a tight corner as eyes all on you. “Or what.. Did you lie?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Rachel walked over with a bright smile. All the attention soon turned to her as she opened a chair and sat down with the groom. Showing off her ring and dress, she soon turned her attention to the empty seat.

“Oh my, did your ‘boyfriend’ not show up?” Rachel says now putting shame on you. “You could have told us you didn’t have a lover…we could have used that seat for someone else.”

You stare at her, some anger rising up, but you remain calm. Using all of your energy to not say something that could ruin anything. You cleared your throat and smiled in a polite manner.

“I don’t share anything about my personal life because of my job.” You say brushing your hands against the table. “Being in The special Reconnaissance Regiment is hard to maintain a love life.”

Silence fills the table, no one saw you as some person to work for the army or any job like that. Racheled opened her mouth to speak but Rebbecaa spoke before her.

“You're in the army? I never took you to be one in that type of work” Rebecca mumbles before turning her full attention to you. “Have you.. Killed people?”

“Private information I cannot share for your safety and mine.” You reply feeling some weight for your shoulders to be lifted. “Now I would appreciate it if we just moved on.”

“You always were one to pull twists on us..” Jason spoke and looked at you with a slight grin. “That’s good, honestly I always thought you would join the military but didn’t know what branch..”

You shook his comment off and made sure Rachel had the attention again. It was her wedding after all. The dance soon started for the bride and her parents. You stood by and reached for your bag, maybe thinking its best to leave. You weren’t having fun, and some of your friends wouldn’t leave the topic about your job. Soon someone else walked into the party, they seemed out of place for a moment then their eyes landed on you immediately. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Ghost.

He walked past some people who stared at him, he wasn’t wearing his regular ‘creepy’ balaclava but a more normal one. It covered his nose and down. No work uniform was on , but a simple light button up shirt and some pants from a tux, that obviously matched him well. His dirty blonde hair was neatly fixed into a stylish slit back hair style, which you never expected him to have. The tattoos on his forearm were on full display as he finally grabbed your bag and set in on your lap. He took the seat next to you and sigh annoyed..

“Don’t question it..” Ghost mumbled as he leaned back and whispered in your ear. “Be grateful I even considered such a thing..”

“How did you even know where the reception would be held?” You ask as Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh. “I only sent that information to Price..”

“You just answered your own question,” Ghost says bluntly as he looks around. “So much damn white..Jesus I might go blind from it all.”

“You handle flashbangs for a living..” You tease Ghost who immediately gives you a glare. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny.”

“What happens when a strawberry gets run over while crossing the street?” Ghost says leaning closer to you. “Hm?”

“Uh..i don’t know what happens?” You reply slightly amused by this behavior.

“Traffic Jam.” Ghost replies and chuckles to himself. “Another?”

You hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't funny yet the way his voice makes the joke sound is better. Ghost pulls your chair closer so you can hear his terrible dad jokes better.

“What do you call a pony with a sore throat?” Ghost hums into your ear while you hold a smile back from your lips. “A little hoarse..”

You can’t help it but let a chuckle escape your lips. Ghost soon leans away from you and sits up in the chair. He looks around the party and rubs his eyes slightly showing he is annoyed by all of the lights. You look at Ghost, it was strange seeing him like this. No mask nor face paint made it feel like you walked into another universe. Which at this point you might have now noticed that he was the one that asked Price for the address to see you and help.

“Thanks..” You mumble to him enough to hear. “You really didn’t have to..”

Ghost looks at you, he seems to have something on his mind. His mask moves as he is about to speak, yet the sound of the bride and groom stop him. You turn your attention to the center of the place and listen as the bride is going to cut the cake and food will be served soon.

The rest of the night some of your friends ask you about Ghost but you say nothing. Avoiding their questions and Ghost doing the same, if he did want you to answer a question about him, he would shoot you a glance or nudge your chair. The night went on, Ghost cracked some more ‘jokes’ that made you smile or even get a chuckle out.His arm is soon wrapped around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it and soon rested your head on his arm, things were okay.

“Are you comfortable..”Ghost questions while keeping his eyes away from you. “Aren’t you?”

“I can move away..” You reply and look at him anxiously.

“It's fine..” Ghost replies and looks away from you. “Can’t believe you’re social enough for this kind of stuff.”

“I honestly never come to stuff like this..I'm always lonely.” You murmur as Ghost turns his attention to you.

“Not this time..”Ghost says, sitting up a bit, he places his hand on your face. “You had some sauce on our lips.”

You stare at Ghost as he wipes the sauce away and leaves his thumb on your lips. He's gaze now on your lips, you feel your face heat up. Ghost gently rubs his thumb on your lips then moves it down to your chin, he makes you look slightly up at him. Ghost hazel eyes stare into your own eyes, a thick tension grows. He moved his thumb back onto your lips, gently giving them a brush. Somehow the world around the two of you slowed down, nothing matters anymore..

“..I never noticed.. How beautiful you are up close..” Ghost mumbles as his arm around your shoulders pulls you closer to him. “A sight for my sore eyes..”

Ghost moves his arm away from your shoulders and brings his hand to his mask. A loud sound makes both of you jump and turn away from each other. His hand on your face moving away to his side, the bride had grabbed a microphone and was trying to turn it on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen! Let's get these games started!” Rachel says with a happy look on her face. “Please bring your chairs and yourself to the center!”

People around you and Ghost started to move themselves and their chairs. You stare at everyone, most of everyone that was at the table left. You then turned your attention back to ghost, who didn’t even seem interested in the game. Rachel noticed you weren’t there and walked over, she grabbed your hand and smiled before speaking.

“Come on! Join us like the good old times!” Rachel says getting people to look over. “Like the good old days, you used to love musical chairs so much as kids.”

You looked around and noticed some people looking over, peer pressure got the best of you and you nodded. Ghost looked at you, there was a hit of worry and annoyance in his eyes. He stood up with you and grabbed your hand, Rachel looked at Ghost, slightly taken back by the sight of him. Rachel soon walked to the center with you and Ghost along with the chairs. It was a regular game of musical chairs, no rules except no harming each other badly. You placed your chair down in the circle, soon the music started and everyone started to move around in a circle. Ghost didn’t even know why on earth he decided to join such a ‘childish game.’ The music stopped and chaos broke, you sat down quickly in a chair as Ghost and a couple others did the same, while two people fought for a chair. One finally sat down and soon the game continued..

Ghost got out the twelve round, he didn’t like walking and too many eyes were on him. He took his chair back to the table and watched as you went against eight people. The number lowered quickly to the point it was only you and some other girl left. Both of you were focused, none wanted to lose or make a fool out of yourselves. The Dj speed up the music and you started to feel your body tense, the music stopped, without a thought you kicked the chair away and the girl fell down before she could sit down. People started to laugh and you picked up the knocked down chair, Ghost slightly was somewhat amused by the sight. The other girl tried to snatch the chair out of your hands but it was all a fail as your grip was strong.

You spun around the girl and placed the chair down, the girl did the same thing as you. She kicks the chair down and you let out an annoyed groan. She grabs the chair with a wide grin and sets the chair down. This could all be over if it wasn't for your need to win no matter what. You kicked the chair down quickly, almost hitting the other girl. She gasped as if in the blink of an eye you picked the chair up and ran to the center sitting down in it.

People cheered and Ghost looked at you with amusement, You soon walked back with the chair and smiled happily. Ghost shook his head trying to shake the look of amusement off, you hugged him without thinking…He hugs you back, a tight embrace happens as the two of you hug each other. You notice your mistake and pull away immediately.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry..I was just so excited..” You say quickly as Ghost pulls you back into a hug. “Ghost?”

Ghost closes his eyes and keeps holding you close, you could swear his breathing get heavier as he held you closer. His cologne filling your nose, Ghost held you close for a period of time. You soon embraced him as well and kept hugging him.

“..Never let go..” Ghost mumbles in your ear, his voice slightly breaking. “Please..”

‘Please’ that word sounded so heartbreaking out of his lips. You just nodded and he let go of you, that was the first time Ghost has ever done that with you. He sat down and pretended like nothing happened and he expected you to do the same.

The rest of the games continued, you would join but not most of them since your feet were tired. Ghost kept you close to him, awfully close. If any of your guy friends approached the two of you, his grip would become tighter on you. The games went on for another hour, soon the bride Rachel announced she would be throwing her bouquet soon.

“You’d think that..You could get the bouquet as well?” Ghost asks, looking at you, before looking at some girls in the center. “If you stand in the back the odds of you getting it are twenty out of hundred.”

“I don’t like the whole bouquet stuff, Rachel would make the girl kiss their partner if they got it.” You reply looking over to the other females. “Plus, I think I won enough games already.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to just have a good time.” Ghost adds looking at you now which you don’t notice. “Who knows if we'll ever be alive to see another wedding..”

You think for a moment then nod, standing up from your seat you walk over to the back. The bride calls out more females to the floor making sure it's even for all the females. The groom gets a chair and Rachel gets on it, she turns her back to the others on the dance floor, people start counting down for her to throw the bouquet. Rachel throws it a three and it hits a fan on the ceiling, which bounces the bouquet and it hits you right in the face. People laugh and cheer as you now hold the bouquet, Ghost eyes widen as he didn’t even expect that himself to happen out of all the possibilities.

“Kiss your partner now!” Rachel says with a smile as she walks over and drags you to Ghost. “Kiss kiss!”

“Rachel, please no lets just move on to the res–” You try to say, but Ghost grabs your waist turning you to him. “Wai–”

Ghost takes his mask down and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He holds your hips, making sure he can hold you correctly. You lean into the kiss and start to close your eyes. It seemed like Ghost wanted to do it for a long time. Ghost breaks the kiss and pulls his mask back and places his hand on your face. He gives you a wink before creasing your cheek with his thumb. Rachel soon walks away leaving you to stare at Ghost in shock.

“I can’t be arsed to care about what you’re thinking..” Ghost mumbles before taking his seat again. “It's all pretend.”

You look at him still in shock and turn away, soon enough you found yourself drinking some fine wine being offered around. Ghost on the other hand remained sober, unwilling to talk to any other female that approached him. His eyes on you as you chugged down wine, there was a time he got worried as people cheered you on to keep drinking. You knew how to handle your liquor, but Ghost didn’t know that. You look at Ghost and give him a drunken smile, yet his eyes narrow seeing that you're drunk down.

“That’s enough drinking now.” Ghost mumbles taking the glass of wine out of your hand. “Do you hear me?”

“I'm fine, Ghost. I can't get drunk so easily with wine.” You say looking at him hoping he would give back the wine glass. “Can I have it back?”

“No, that's enough wine for you today..” Ghost says and sets your glass on the table. “If you keep drinking or try to drink again I will get up and leave.”

You stare at Ghost and soon take your own seat, You lean against his arm and sigh. Maybe you had been drinking too much, maybe the wine was too much for you. Ghost turned his attention to you, pulled you closer to him, almost as if he wanted you on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his arm and closed your eyes, you were starting to blackout..

“You okay..?” Ghost asked with high concred in his voice. “You need to head home?”

“Probably..” You mumble before looking at him. “I might have drank too much today..”

Ghost sighs and helps you stand up, he grabs your bag and starts to walk out with you. Rachel noticed and walked over with the groom, they called out for you and Ghost. He hesitated to stop but did since they were your friends. Rachel and her husband Aaron look at you and then at Ghost.

“You two leaving?” Rachel asks slightly hurt by this. “It's only twelve in the morning”

“She had too much to drink and wanted to go home.” Ghost says looking at Rachel, slight haterade he didn’t like her at all. “If you care about her, you wouldn’t have to come and question why she is leaving early.”

“Easy now, we don’t need an aggressive tone here.” Aaron speaks up trying to make things settle. “We are in the wrong for cheering them on..”

Ghost starts to walk away with you, he makes sure you can lean on him as you two walk. He knew where your car was parked, the exact spot without even checking. You looked at Ghost a little concerned as to how he knew where your car was parked. He takes the keys out of your bag and looks at you.

“I'll drive you home then get an uber back here to drive my own car.” Ghost says and opens the passenger door. “Come on..”

You stare at him for a moment and get in your own car. Ghost closes the door and walks to the other side, he opens the door to the driver side, he sits down then adjusts the seat. Ghost looks over at you for a moment and pulls his mask off completely. Then grabs your head gently with the palm of his hand on the back of your head. He leans in and kisses you, the kiss was less sloppy than before. Ghost gently grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you closer, he can’t get enough of your lips.

Ghost moves his other hand to your neck, you look at him as he leans in for another kiss. Your lips crash against his, he groans in the kiss. The hand on your neck gives you a gentle squeeze. Ghost hand on your hair moves to your back, he bushes the straps of your dress and looks at you with desire.

“Are you okay with this doll?” Ghost asks, looking at you. “Do you like me kissing you?”

Ghost looks at you and smiles, it is odd but yet comforting. You meet in his gaze and place your hands on his cheeks.The palm of your hands brush against his stubble, he leans close to you. Another kiss is shared between the two of you, Ghost wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to him, he lets go of your neck, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles on your skin. Without a thought he kisses your neck as you let go of his face, you toge on his shirt and bite your lip.

“Use your words..” Ghost says giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Come on..”

“I want this Ghost..” You reply as he places his hand on your chin. “Don’t.. Make me beg..”

“You’re drunk.. If you were sober maybe I would go further with you princess..” Ghost mumbled before turning his attention to the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”

You stare at Ghost feeling disappointed, but understand that he wanted to keep his desires in check. Ghost pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the road, once in a while he would look over at your body. How it bounced to each bump on the road, his desires and mind started to wonder as the straps on your dress slid off your shoulders. Ghost stops the car by a park nearby and turns the car off, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns his attention to you and your neck. Pulling you close, Ghost leans his face to your neck..

“You drive me crazy, a crazy I can't hide anymore…” Ghost murmurs before kissing your neck. “Do you want this doll? Do you want me to take you here and now..?”

You let out a soft moan and nod, Ghost wastes no time helping you get on his lap, he leans the seat back. You hear him undo his buckle of his pants, he was wasting no time to take you. To give you the pleasure you two desire in such close space. You kiss Ghost and watch as he moves his hand to your inner thighs, he gives them a gentle squeeze. He slides his fingers against your clit, shivers go down your spine.

“Look at you.. Already wet, partially dripping onto my fingers.” Ghost teases and rubs circles on your clit. “Think you can take me baby? Think you can take me like the good girl you are..”

A whimper escapes your mouth and you look down at Ghost. Who’s admiring the faces you make to his touch, the sweet sounds you give him. Ghost soon removes his hand away from your pussy and licks his finger, you blush to his action.

“Why would you do that..” You mumble in slight embarrassment. “Gh–”

“It's Simon to you princess..” Ghost says inserting two fingers into your pussy without a warning.

You arch your back and let out a loud moan, he didn’t give you any warning. Slowly he fingered you, enjoying watching you come undone to just his fingers. Ghost moved at a slow pace, wanting to savor every second of your reaction. Your hips soon started to move on their own, your body wanting more of his finger. Ghost pulls them out and looks at you while you let out a small whimper. Ghost chuckles and moves his throbbing cock close to your pussy.

“Patience, pretty girl. Patience..” Ghost mumbles and looks at you. “You think that you can handle it?”

You give an quick nod and try to place your body on his cock, but Ghost stops you and rubs your hips. He knew you wanted as much as he did, but he wanted to make sure you could take him. Ghost brushed his hands on your hips and bit his lip, he wanted to just ruin you and keep you close to him.

“Gh–Simon.. Please..” You beg now looking down at him. “Please.. I can’t keep waiting..”

You start to beg him, he loves the sight of you begging, the sound of your whimpers wanting your own hips to be placed on his. Ghost without warning drops your body on to his cock, he lets out a satisfied groan as you let out a small cry. You have taken every single inch of him, Ghost rubs your hips again letting you adjust to him. Some tears escape your eyes and you hold onto the handle off the door. Ghost shifts on the car seat and lets out a groan as take more of him in.

“Bloody hell..you're so perfect.. So bloody perfect for me..” Ghost moans out and closes his eyes. “Perfectly made for me baby..” He pauses for a moment and digs his fingers on the side of your hips. “Think you can move a baby girl, think you can move this beautiful body of yours?”

You give him a gentle nod and slowly bounce on his cock. Ghost groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, he lets go of your hips and places his hands on your thighs. Giving them a good squeeze, you can’t help but moan his name as your hips move.

“That’s it princess that's it..” Ghost murmurs while giving your thighs another squeeze. “ Use my cock to satisfy this pussy of yours.”

Ghost was completely pussy drunk, mumbling things as you bounced on his cock. Ghost opened his eyes soon enough to catch a glimpse of your face, how you particularly looked at him. Ghost moves his hands back to your waist, he adjusts himself and thrust into you. You let out a moan, Ghost started to move himself as you arched your back trembling as you were on your high with him, Your eyes rolled back and your moans were music to his ears.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me..”Ghost says, thrusting his cock recklessly into you. “That’s it, love.. Bloody hell..that's it clinching that pussy around my cock.”

Without another word you moan loudly and let your body fall on him, You had reached your orgasm. Ghost wasn't so far behind, he pulled out and came on your ass, he groaned and soon wrapped his arms around you. He took steady breaths and brushed his hand on your hair. Gently patting your back with his other hand.

“You did so good for me doll.. So good..” Ghost murmurs into your ear and holds you close. “Breath..”

“I.. love you..” You reply without thinking. “I really..love you..”

Ghost looked at you and then sigh softly before kissing your head. He holds you close but says nothing. The both of you stay like that for a couple minutes, crickets and sounds of nature lay on your ears as finally Ghost speaks.

“I love you too..” Ghost mumbles creasing your face, before kissing your cheek. “We still need to get you home.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off of Ghost. You sat back in the passenger seat and watched as Ghost buckled his pants up again, you in the meantime fixed your panties. He started the car and got out of the parking lot of the park. Ghost glanced over at you while he drove. Things were definitely never gonna be the same between him and you, Ghost knew that like you did. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked at Ghost, as he drove your car, the car you had your first time with Ghost, so many thoughts and so many questions but what did that matter now? This wedding was definitely going to be an unforgettable one.

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farfromstrange · 1 year ago

Text

Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)

Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices

Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)

Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry.

For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count.

She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did.

They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something.

She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it.

Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will.

The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing.

When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.

She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone.

Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then.

The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of.

“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”

He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat.

She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile.

“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”

Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much.

She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes.

“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”

He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”

“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”

“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact.

“And how would you know?”

“I just do.”

He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough.

“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”

“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Not if you did it on purpose.”

The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.

“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”

“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”

“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”

He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”

She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself.

She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.

“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear.

She whimpered, not wanting to answer.

“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”

“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his.

A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”

He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”

“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body.

He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”

“But that’s not enough, is it?”

“To me, it is.”

“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”

She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”

She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”

“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”

If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point.

“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope.

He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.

In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”

“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”

The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”

“It feels true,” she cried.

His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”

“But–”

“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing.

She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself.

Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms.

“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”

Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said.

“How?” she asked.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.”

Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #no y/n #tw: ed #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox

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herweirdass · 28 days ago

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the waitress | vh

part two here!

Vinnie sat at the corner booth of a bustling restaurant, surrounded by his friends, but his mind was far from the conversation. He poked at his food with his fork, his eyes occasionally drifting toward the girl who was waiting tables across the room. Y/N, her name tag read. She had been their waitress earlier, and from the moment she approached their table, Vinnie had been hooked.

Her smile was soft but genuine, and the way she moved around the room with effortless grace drew his attention more than anything else. He admired how she seemed to light up even in the chaos of the busy restaurant, taking orders, balancing trays, and still managing to stay composed. Every time she spoke to them, Vinnie had been too nervous to say more than a quiet "thank you," which his friends teased him for.

"Dude, you're barely eating," Jett said, nudging him playfully. "What's up?"

"Yeah, you've been staring at the waitress since we got here," Eamon added with a smirk.

Vinnie blushed, caught in the act. "Nah, I'm just tired," he mumbled, trying to brush it off. But everyone at the table knew what was really going on.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" he suggested, grinning.

Vinnie shook his head. "I'm not going to bother her while she's working. Besides, what would I even say?"

"Maybe start with your name," Jett joked, earning a round of laughter from the group. Vinnie just smiled weakly, his gaze flickering back to Y/N as she took an order at another table. He wanted to talk to her, but the idea of stumbling through a conversation and making a fool of himself kept him quiet.

When the meal was over, and the check arrived, Vinnie discreetly pulled out a few extra bills from his wallet, adding a generous tip before they left. He watched as Y/N collected the check from their table, her eyes widening slightly at the amount. She looked around the restaurant as if wondering who had left it, but Vinnie was already out the door.---A couple of days passed, but Vinnie couldn't stop thinking about her. He replayed their brief interactions in his mind, mentally kicking himself for not at least trying to talk to her. The tip had been nice, sure, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to know her, hear her voice without the buffer of an order in between.

So, he made a decision.

One evening, after work, Vinnie found himself walking back into the same restaurant. This time, he was alone. His heart pounded as he entered, scanning the room. There she was—Y/N, still busy with tables but moving with that same easy grace.

He found a small table in the corner and sat down, fiddling nervously with the menu. He hadn't thought this through. What if she didn't even remember him? What if she was too busy to notice him? He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous, but something about her made him want to try.

A few minutes passed, and then, there she was—standing at his table with that same soft smile."Hi, welcome back! What can I get for you tonight?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Vinnie swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of how to even form a sentence. "Uh, just...just water for now. Please," he managed to say, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he sounded.

Y/N nodded and walked away to get his drink. Vinnie's hands fidgeted with the silverware on the table, his heart racing. When she returned with his water, she placed it in front of him and lingered for a moment.

"You were here the other day, right? With your friends?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Vinnie's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, yeah. That was me."

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling a bit. "I thought so. You left a really nice tip. Thank you for that."

"Oh, uh...yeah, no problem. I just...wanted to," Vinnie stammered, feeling his face heat up.

She laughed softly, clearly amused by his awkwardness but not in a mean way. "Well, it was appreciated. So, just water tonight, or are you hungry too?"

Vinnie cleared his throat, trying to gather some courage. "Actually, I came back because I wanted to talk to you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I didn't know how."

Y/N blinked, surprised, but her smile didn't fade. "Talk to me? About what?"

"About...uh, I don't know. You just seem really cool, and I wanted to get to know you," Vinnie said, feeling like he was tripping over every word. "But I'm terrible at this kind of stuff."

Her smile grew, and she pulled out a chair, sitting down across from him. "Well, lucky for you, I'm off in about an hour. If you can wait, maybe we can talk then?"

Vinnie's heart skipped a beat. He nodded quickly, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, I can wait."

Y/N laughed again, her eyes meeting his. "Okay, it's a deal." She stood up, giving him one last glance before heading off to finish her shift.

For the rest of the evening, Vinnie couldn't stop smiling. He had no idea what he'd say when she sat down with him later, but for the first time, he wasn't scared. He was excited.

After what felt like both an eternity and a split second, Y/N's shift finally came to an end. Vinnie had spent the last hour anxiously sipping his water, glancing at the door every time someone entered, as if he might lose his nerve and bolt at any second. But he stayed, waiting for her to finish up.

Y/N came out of the back of the restaurant, now wearing a casual jacket over her uniform and looking just as effortlessly cool as she had while working. Her hair was tied back loosely, and she still had that soft smile on her face that had captivated him the first time he saw her.

"Ready?" she asked, walking up to his table. Vinnie quickly stood up, nodding a little too eagerly.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She laughed softly. "Relax, it's just me. Let's go."

They walked out of the restaurant together, the night air cool and refreshing compared to the warmth of the bustling dining room. The streets were quieter now, lit only by the soft glow of streetlights and the occasional car passing by. Y/N glanced at Vinnie as they strolled side by side, and he couldn't help but wonder if she noticed how nervous he was.

"So, Vinnie, right?" Y/N asked, breaking the silence. "Tell me something about yourself. What do you do?"

Vinnie scratched the back of his head, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, uh, I do content creation. Like videos and streaming. It's fun, but sometimes a lot."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, so you're one of those internet-famous guys? Should I be asking for an autograph?"

Vinnie chuckled, his cheeks flushing. "Nah, nothing like that. I mean, people watch, but I'm just doing what I enjoy. What about you? How'd you end up here?"

She shrugged, kicking a small pebble as they walked. "I moved here a couple of months ago, just needed a fresh start, you know? Working at the restaurant's been alright, but I'm figuring things out."

They reached a small park nearby, its benches lined with trees swaying gently in the breeze. Without really thinking about it, they found themselves sitting down on one of the benches, side by side. The park was peaceful, the only sounds coming from distant cars and the occasional chirp of crickets.

"I've got to say," Vinnie began, turning to face her, "I'm really glad I came back tonight."

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I'm glad you did too. I was wondering about you after the first time. I thought you'd never say anything."

"Me? I was terrified to even look at you," Vinnie admitted with a nervous laugh. "I didn't want to bother you while you were working."

"I get it, but you wouldn't have bothered me," she said, leaning in just a little. "I'm glad you decided to come back."

The night air seemed to settle around them, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Vinnie's heart was still racing, but it wasn't out of nerves anymore—it was something else, something that felt right.

"So, what now?" Y/N asked, her voice soft, almost playful.

Vinnie looked at her, really looked at her this time, without the nerves clouding his mind. She was everything he had imagined from that first moment and more—kind, funny, easy to talk to. He wanted to know everything about her.

"I don't know," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Or, I don't know, whatever you'd want to do."

Y/N laughed softly. "Coffee sounds good. But maybe next time you won't wait so long to talk to me?"

Vinnie grinned, feeling a rush of warmth. "Deal."

They sat there a little longer, talking about anything and everything—work, life, the strange paths that had brought them both to that very moment. And as they talked, the night seemed to stretch out, peaceful and full of promise.

By the time they finally got up to leave, Vinnie knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd see Y/N. He wasn't sure where things would go from here, but for once, he didn't feel the pressure to know. He was just happy to have taken that first step, to have broken through his fear and started something new. Something real.

And when they parted ways, he couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing that he'd be seeing her again soon.

#vincent hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vhackerr #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker prompt

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welovelouisandbucky · 9 months ago

Note

hello!! i loved your Matty and Theo headcanons, do you think you could do them for Enzo as well? :)🫶🏻

A/n: hellooooo!!!! I'm so sorry it took me this long to reply, I honestly forgot I have saved this into my draft. But I hope you like it! (I tried my best😭) have a nice day!!!!

T/w: none honestly, well of course, except for my writing 💀✋🏼

Masterlist

Lorenzo Berkshire headcanon

Enzo who is the biggest sweetheart you have ever met.

Enzo who no matter what is always there for you.

Enzo who always brings a smile to your face.

Enzo who calls you sweet names and makes you blush.

Enzo who is soft and kind and everything nice.

Though, everyone has their bad days, even him but you're always there for him as he is for you. It doesn't matter what the situation is, if it's him being frustrated with his studies, or having a problem with his family or anything you always make sure to be there for him.

Enzo who always has his hand intertwined with yours, in classes, The Great Hall, hallways or Common rooms etc. He is always touching, though earlier when you guys have just started dating and whenever he'd hold your hand he'd have this rosy tint to his cheeks.

Was actually super shy around you after he realized he has a crush on you, and I mean shy.

Enzo who whenever you guys fight (which is almost never but there's always those rare days) would instantly cradle you into his arms the moment he sees tears building up in your eyes because if there's one thing he hates the most is seeing you cry and even worse if he's the one who caused you to cry.

Enzo who always calls you pretty even if you look like you have been dragged through the pits of hell and back, because in his eyes you're the most beautiful human being ever.

Enzo who thinks you look absolutely adorable when you study because you have this look of concentration with a slight pout on your lips.

Enzo who is lazy, like lazy lazy. You'll have to drag him to classes sometimes, literally.

Doesn't play Quidditch but loves watching and is always there to support his friends.

Is okay-ish in DADA but loves Charms, and is Professor Flitwick's favorite. And also enjoys Herbology, tho that might be because you are there too.

Is honestly scared of Snape, and tries to avoid him best as he could considering he's in Slytherin.

Is not afraid to do something sketchy if it comes to you and his friends, because you guys are his family and he'd do anything for you guys and vice versa.

Clumsy. Like this one time you guys were studying in the library when he accidentally knocked over the ink bottle, ruining both of your works, but thankfully you guys were able to restore it because... ✨magic✨

Once he got comfortable in relationship, he became super flirty, like Mattheo who?

Youngest of the group, and everyone's favorite.

Has probably scolded threatened Theodore many times to quit smoking, but he just shrugs him off. ( Tho secretly, he did listen to him and stopped smoking as much as he did before, now he only smokes when's he's super frustrated or angry)

Is sneaky little shit.

Head over heels for you.

Simp.

Has many Hufflepuff friends.

Hermione and him get along pretty well actually.

Super super romantic!!!!

Did I tell you, he's a simp for you?

Would definitely match outfits with you, without any hesitation.

Never takes off the bracelet you made for him, he absolutely adores it.

Definitely wants to spend rest of his life with you! ✨

...

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and replies are appreciated, as well as positive criticism! Please don't hate, this is a safe place for everyone!!!!

Have a nice day!! ✨✨

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nadinebrooks · 2 years ago

Text

Here is the link to my masterlist.

This one is a little long because I didn't divide it up into 2 parts, but I hope everyone enjoys! Do you prefer them to be shorter or a little on the longer side?

You Get Jealous

Harry: Gryffindor, halfblood, same year

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

I know hate is a strong word, but it was the only emotion I was feeling at this moment. I hate her perfect flaming red her. I hate her perfect freckled complexion. And I hate her perfect personality. She had Harry wrapped around her perfect little finger. She didn't even have to do anything. She just existed and he was obsessed.

After I had to play in that Quidditch match for Harry, Oliver Wood wanted me to start coming to practice. I was learning the roles of the other positions. He explained that he wanted to have me around just in case. I was not looking forward to playing Quidditch in front of a crowd again. I hope nobody on the team needed me.

On the way to the field for an afternoon practice on Saturday, Ginny spent the entire time flirting with Harry. She was the team's new Chaser. It was as if he actually enjoyed the attention.

I mean who wouldn’t. There were guys who would go to detention for an entire month with Snape if they got a chance just to talk to Ginny Weasley.

She was absolutely perfect. I hated that I felt this way because I liked to consider Ginny one of my closest friends.

I tried not to scoff as I watched Ginny talking to Harry. She was batting her eyelashes and giggling. She would touch his arm and he leaned into her touch. Harry was laughing at things that she was saying, but I couldn’t hear what the conversation was about. I knew that Harry wasn't faking his laughter. Ginny was a funny person.

During practice I sat in the stands and took notes on the different positions. The only position that I think I would have liked besides Seeker would be Beater. I think I would imagine the ball as Ginny's head.

While I was watching practice, I was thinking about how I was so happy that I wasn't actually practice. It was a grueling one. Oliver told us that he wanted to win the championship this year and he wasn't playing.

He was making sure that this team was ready for anything and everything. I did appreciate him for that, but I would much rather be curled up in the common room with a good book.

That sounded much better than watching Ginny and Harry flirt. Anything sounds much better than that.

She looked absolutely perfect while she was flying around on her broom. She wasn't sweaty at all. There wasn't a single hair out of place on her head.

"You're scowling. What's wrong?" Hermione asked from beside me. She decided that come down to the quidditch pitch to hang out with me since she was done with all her homework for the day.

"I'm not scowling Hermione." I grumbled tearing my eyes away from Ginny so that I could look at her. I was happy to have her here.

"You’re definitely scowling (y/n). You don’t have to talk about what's wrong to me, but don't keep all your emotions bottled up inside. It's not good for you." She calmly replied.

Hermione had always been good at reading me. I knew that she knew what was wrong with me. She wasn't going to force me to say anything, but she knew what was going on in my mind.

"I know Hermione. I just get so..." I trailed off not really sure how to explain to her how I felt.

"Jealous." Hermione shrugged as if it wasn't that hard to explain. It wasn’t really. I just didn't want to admit it out loud. "I don’t think you have anything to worry about (y/n). I know Harry likes you.”

"Nothing to worry about?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Ginny is perfect. She is absolutely perfect and I'm just me."

"Please don’t say that about yourself (y/n). You're perfect too. You just don’t see yourself the same way that we see you."

That didn't ease my anger at all. Not even a little bit. Ginny had been making these googly eyes at Harry all practice and I couldn’t take it anymore.

Once practice was finally over, I angrily shoved into her making sure that I bumped into her shoulder. Hard. She stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. I smirked as I stomped off towards the castle.

I needed to go somewhere where I knew that I could be alone. I needed to be alone. I barely made it to the Room of Requirement before I collapsed onto one of the couches sobbing.

I pulled my knees into my chest and rocked slightly to sooth myself. There was absolutely nothing but silence in the room. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my sniffles.

Was I not enough for him? I mean I knew I couldn’t compete with her, but that didn't mean he had to rub it in my face. I just needed to accept the fact that I wasn't Ginny Weasley and I never would be.

"What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?" Harry practically shouted storming into the room. His angry face was replaced with concern when he saw me balled up on the couch. I tried to respond to him, but I started crying again.

He slowly walked over to me and sat down. I could hardly see him through my tears. I couldn’t catch my breath.

"Please tell me what's wrong." He tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him away. I didn’t want him touching me right now.

"Am I just a game to you?" I asked as I angrily wiped away the tears.

"No (y/n). I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"Then why?"

"I just wanted you to know how I felt when I saw you kissing Oliver."

"You mean to tell me that you toyed with my emotions because you're still stuck on something that happened over a year ago?" I was furious. He leaned forward to comfort me, but I pushed myself away.

"Yeah." He awkwardly reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "It sounds stupid when you say it like that, but I didn’t think you were going to get so upset over me talking to her."

"You weren't just talking to her. You two were all over each other." I muttered shaking my head. "I was very jealous. I know it sounds kinda stupid, but I didn't like it."

"Nothing you say sounds stupid. I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

"You better not let it happen again."

Ron: Ravenclaw, muggleborn, year above

Ron and I had always been close ever since I slapped him. I knew that I shouldn’t have a crush on him. I couldn’t lose him. Nor could I stand his rejection. I was almost positive that he had a thing for Lavender.

The thing was, he didn’t seem as into her as she was into him. I liked to think that he didn't really like her. He was just being polite. That would be the best case scenario, but life never worked out like that for me.

After some time, I wasn’t so sure. Seeing the two of them together was a constant reminder of my feelings. I tried to push those feelings away, but it was hard. It was really hard.

"Hey Ronnie." Came that annoying voice. It was Lavender. "I have a lot of work left for History of Magic. I was wondering if you could help me."

"What's in it for me?" Ron raised an eyebrow at his fellow Gryffindor.

"Whatever you want." She suggestively grinned at him causing my jaw to drop. "We can decide on something later tonight."

Ron sheepishly grinned and began gathering all of his belongings. He quickly shoved them all into his backpack and practically ran behind Lavender out of the common room.

"Gross." Hermione shuddered before gathering all of her things and heading out of the common room as well. That left me and Harry to talk about all the random things that had gone on in our lives this week.

Harry and I were no means that close, but I did spend a decent amount of time in their common room because of Hermione. We had become extremely close over the past year. I was proud to say that she was one of my best friends.

"How do you feel about Ron and Lavender?" Harry asked. I had a feeling that he had been wanting to ask me that for a while.

"Are they like together together?" I asked testing the waters. "If I'm going to honest, Lavender is not the type of girl I saw him with. I figured him and Hermione would be together by now."

"Him and Hermione argue way too much for any sort of relationship. Lavender did come out of the blue for me too. I think he's with her because he's trying to get over another girl, but you didn’t hear that from me."

The following week I managed to catch up with Ron when we both had a free period. Since we weren't in the same year it could be hard to get some time together, but we did have the same free period on Thursdays.

"How's it going with you and Lavender?" I asked as we stepped outside. We would usually walk around the grounds taking in all the scenery.

"What do you mean?" He looked confused.

"Lavender Brown? I thought the two of you were together now."

"Oh, I wouldn’t go as far as saying that we're together. It's nice to have something warm to snuggle up with in the common room, you know?"

"Ron Weasley." I stopped walking and grabbed both of his shoulders so that he could look me in the face. "You can't lead her on. That isn't fair. Especially when she thinks that your relationship could be going somewhere."

"I wouldn’t call it leading on (y/n). Besides, I think she's in the same headspace as me. We're not looking for it to go anywhere." He let out a small sigh. "I've been interested in this other girl for a while, but I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

He had to be talking about Hermione.

"That can't be true Ron. Any girl would be lucky to have you. You're a great guy." We started back walking on the path through one of the courtyards.

"Thanks (y/n)." He darkly chuckled. "I think she just sees me as a friend though. She's never done or said anything to make me think that she was interested."

"Maybe she's nervous." I suggested. "Or she gets a little shy around you."

"I don’t think so. She's never nervous or shy around me. It's quite the opposite. Maybe it's time that I move on, you know? Maybe I should try pushing it a little harder with Lavender."

"No." I immediately shook my head. Ron turned to look at me with wide eyes.

"No what?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No. You shouldn’t move on."

"Is there something you want to tell me (y/n)?" He smirked.

"No." I grumbled.

"It's okay. You can say it. You can say that you were jealous."

"I wasn't jealous Ron." I calmy addressed. "I just don’t think it's fair to Lavender to drag your fling out when you can clearly see that she has feelings for you. You don’t want to lead her on when you have feelings for someone else."

"Hmm you're right." Ron nodded. We went back on talking about random things for the rest of the walk. Lavender hadn’t been brought back up. We headed back towards the castle when it was time for me to go to Charms class.

"Bye Ron." I gave him a little wave as I started heading up the stairs.

"Oh and (y/n)?" He called out to me before I had gotten too far away. I turned around raising my eyebrows to let him know that I was listening. "It's okay to be jealous."

Draco: Ravenclaw, pureblood, year below

This was new to her. She had taken one too many shots of fire whisky and now she was dancing on top of one of the common room tables.

(y/n) was not used to all the attention, but in this moment she had all eyes on her. Nobody was complaining though. It was nice to see the girl who was usually so shy and tame having a little bit of fun.

Tonight everyone was celebrating the end of OWLS. Even though it was only the 5th years that took them, everyone got to enjoy the perks of the parties.

Little did (y/n) know, Draco was paying very close attention to her. He had never seen her drunk before so this was new to him as well.

Draco didn't dance. Not one bit. So he had found a spot in the corner of the room where he would be able to watch (y/n).

Her hips swayed to the music and it looked as if she was having a really good time. Watching her dance on an elevated surface was something Draco could get used to.

He sat there for a while sipping his drink and enjoying the show. He didn't really like being the center of attention so this was perfect for him. Everything about this night had gone perfect. That was until he saw Pansy Parkinson making his way towards her. He tried to look away from her, but she managed to catch his gaze.

Pansy sat down on the couch beside him and tried to smile seductively at him. Sure, Pansy was a pretty girl, but he had absolutely no interest in her.

"How's your night going Draco?" She sweetly asked.

"It's going fine." He replied. He wanted to be short with his responses, but still polite. "How is yours going Pancy?"

"Mine is going really well. Thank you for asking."

"That's good Pansy."

"I don’t understand why (y/n) thinks it's a good idea to dance on the table. And then she's got that tiny dress on. It’s like she wants everyone to look at her."

"You know (y/n) isn’t like that." Draco coldly replied. He wasn’t going to let Pansy disrespect her. "She's just having a little bit of fun. She deserves it. Especially after all those hours she spent helping us study for OWLS. She didn't have to do that."

Pansy started talking, but Draco zoned out. He didn’t really care what Pansy had to say about (y/n). He was just happy that she was loosening up a little bit. As he was watching her, he noticed her eyes angrily narrow at Pansy.

Was that jealously he detected? He didn't think that (y/n) would ever be jealous of Pansy. She had absolutely no reason to be. But he knew that face. It was the face he made whenever he saw (y/n) talking to Ron Weasley.

It was the face of jealously. Maybe he could use Pansy to his advantage to see if (y/n) felt the same way about him.

He knew that he had (y/n)'s attention when she stopped dancing and had her gaze firmly fixed on the two of them. He leaned into Pansy acting as if he was extremely interested in what she had to say. He would make sure to touch her and chuckle at everything she was saying. Draco knew that he had (y/n)'s undivided attention.

(y/n) reached up and began weaving her hands through her hair. Her hips were swaying perfectly with the music as she maintained eye contact with the blonde. She ran her hands down her body making sure that the dance was more sensual than it had been before.

Damn, Draco could get used to seeing a drunk and jealous (y/n).

Pansy placed her hand on his forearm. He wanted to shake her away, but he noticed that (y/n) had hopped down from the table and was now making her way over to the two of them.

"Come dance with me Draco." She had her hands firmly placed on her hips. Even though it was a request, she wasn’t asking.

"Can't you see that he's a little busy?" Pansy spoke up.

"I want to dance Draco." (y/n) was speaking to Draco, but she was looking at Pansy. Pansy stared right back at (y/n). She wasn't just going to back down.

"Your wish is my command." He sheepishly grinned and wrapped an arm around (y/n)'s waist pulling her to the middle of the common room. They left behind a stunned looking Pansy.

"What was that (y/n)?" He smirked as her spun her around and she pressed up against his body. The two of them began moving to the music. The both of them knew that Pansy was watching so they wanted to give her a good show.

"I didn’t like the way she was all up on you." (y/n) huffed.

"Hmm do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

"No. You detect a lot of jealousy."

George: Slytherin, halfblood, same year

Once the sound of clanging pots and pans drifted up to my bedroom, I knew it was time to get out of the bed. I was never awaken this way at my house, but I came to love the sounds at the Weasley household.

As I got out of bed and tried to make myself look more presentable, the smell of bacon began wafting up the stairs. There was no food in the word that came anywhere close to Molly Weasley's cooking.

I finally climbed out of the warm bed and slipped a hoodie on over my tank top. I headed downstairs to see that I was the last one to make my way to the kitchen. Everyone else had gathered in the living room to wait for Molly to finish up cooking.

"Good morning sleeping beauty. Nice of you to join on." George joked looking over in my direction.

"You were up there so long I thought you had died." Fred added on. I rolled my eyes and flipped off the twins. The first time I did that, the twins didn't understand the gesture. It came from my Muggle side. Once they learned what it meant, it was something we did to each other all the time.

When breakfast was done cooking, Molly called all of us into the kitchen. I got ready to sit down beside George, but not before Hermione could slip into the seat before I could. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

I always sat in this seat beside George. I shrugged it off and took the seat across the table from him which was beside Ron. I didn't mind sitting by Ron at all. It was just weird because she was the one who usually sat by Ron.

Hermione and Ginny instantly began talking about celebrities from the Muggle world. Hermione had brought pictures to show Ginny. I mostly just listened to their conversation, but I would give some input every now and then. I think a lot of people forgot that my mom was a Muggle, so I was familiar with a lot of these things.

"So Hermione," Ginny gushed, "What are you looking for in a partner?"

"I've always wanted someone who could make me laugh. They need to be a kind person as well. You know that I'm not obsessed with looks, it's more about personality for me. But it wouldn’t hurt if they're nice to look at, you know? I would also like them to be taller than me which shouldn’t be too hard since I'm not the tallest person."

"Hmm sounds like you just described me." George interjected bringing all the attention to him. Hermione clearly blushed and looked away from the beaming redhead.

I felt my fist clenching and I had to force myself to finish the rest of my breakfast. If I didn’t, Molly was sure to ask what was wrong. I didn’t feel like explaining to her that I was jealous of another girl who I would be living with for the next couple of weeks.

Once breakfast was over, the boys and Ginny decided that they wanted to play Quidditch. It was snowing outside so it was pretty cold. I made sure to put on extra socks. I hated when my toes got cold.

Hermione made her way over to a spot on the porch so she could read a book she had just gotten, but still pay attention to the game happening above. I would be the referee for their little match.

They had been playing for a little while and I watched as George flew down and landed beside Hermione. He said something to her, but I was too far away to hear. They exchanged a couple of words and George quickly ran inside. After a couple of moments, he came back out with one of his knitted sweaters that he always got for Christmas.

It was one of the signature knitted sweaters from Molly. Why was he giving it to Hermione? She immediately pulled it on over her head and gave George the biggest smile ever.

I felt myself shaking with rage. He didn't even ask if I was cold. I told everyone that I had to go to the bathroom and headed towards the house. George called after me, but I just kept walking.

I tried to quickly walk upstairs to the bathroom, but I was no match to his long strides. I managed to get to the bathroom and almost slam the door, but he caught ahold of it.

"What are you doing?" I hissed trying to pull it shut. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Not before you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong George. I just need to pee."

"You've been pouting all morning. Something is clearly wrong with you."

"I'm fine." I said trying to keep my voice from rising. I didn't feel like explaining myself to him. He cocked his head to the side studying my face. "What?" I questioned.

"I just want to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"What is going on between you and Hermione?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Nothing is going on between us." He threw his head back and laughed.

"What about the conversation this morning? About you claiming to be her type and then getting a sweater for her. You could've gotten her any sweater, but of course you get her one with a G on it. As if you were claiming her."

"If you want me to claim you darling, all you have to do is ask." He smirked causing my face to heat up under his gaze. "I was trying to get a rile out of you this morning and about the sweater, she was just cold. You don’t have to worry about anything. I only have eyes for you." He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Have a nice pee."

He turned away from me and walked back down the hallway. I had forgotten all about going to the bathroom.

Fred: Gryffindor, pureblood, 2 years below (same as Trio)

"I just heard that Hannah Abbott is going to Hogsmeade with Fred tonight." Hermione angrily ran her hands through her thick hair. She was practically ranting to Harry and I. "I don’t understand what he sees in her. I mean he's got a perfectly good girl who is practically in love with him, but he doesn’t care. Not one bit. I mean what does he even see in Hannah? She can’t even hold a candle to you (y/n)."

"Hold on Hermione. Let's take a minute and think about what you just said. I'm not in love with Fred." I jokingly rolled my eyes at her. Sure, I was a little hurt. I thought that Fred and I had something going on, but maybe he decided to move on because I hadn't expressed my feelings towards him.

"It's okay to admit your feelings (y/n). I see the way you look at him. Please don't make the same mistake as me and take too long to say how you feel." Hermione lovingly placed a hand on top of mine. I knew that she had been feeling a little down lately.

I had a feeling that Fred was teasing me. We had been playing this game of cat and mouse for years. But what could I say to him? If I said what I really wanted to say, I had a feeling that he would laugh in my face and leave with Hannah on their date.

I decided that I needed to tell him. I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t. I was tired of being this jealous girl who was scared to admit her feelings. When he came down the stairs to leave for his date, I stopped him.

"Where are you going?" I stood in front of him blocking his path. I was done with this silly little game the two of us had been playing for the past couple of years.

"I'm just going out with a friend. Why? Is there something you need (y/n)?"

"No." I shook my head trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say to him. I awkwardly rocked back and forth on my heels. I should have thought about this before I corralled him in our common room. "I was just wondering. I heard you were going on a date."

"I mean, I guess you could call it a date. Look (y/n), I can see that something is on your mind. Can we continue this conversation when I get back? I've got to meet her and I don't want to keep her waiting."

"Sure Fred. Have fun." I nodded stepping out of his way so that he could walk around me. I have him a small wave as he quickly walked out of the common room. Every fiber in my being was screaming for me to stop him. To tell him that I was right here waiting on him. I didn’t want him to go on that date with Hannah. It should be me that he was taking out on a date. I slowly walked back over to my seat on the couch.

"I'm sorry Hermione." I mumbled as tears were threatening to tumble down my cheeks. "I just froze. I didn’t know what to say to him.

"You don’t have to apologize to me. I froze so many times when I wanted to tell him how I felt. You could always wait until he comes back and talk to him."

"I just don’t know what I would even say. What if he hates me?"

"He could never hate you (y/n)." Hermione gave me a supportive smile before standing up and leaving me on the couch to think about what I wanted to say when he came back. I only sat there for about an hour or so until Fred got back.

I had been going over how I expected this conversation to go in my mind. Let's just say that my guesses of how this conversation was going to go weren't very good.

"Hey, (y/n)." I heard Fred say as he walked in. I had decided that I was just going to go for it. I had nothing to lose at this point. "I didn’t forget that you wanted to talk about something." He walked over to the couch and plopped down beside me. He casually tossed an arm on couch beside me. "So what's up?"

"Well how was your date?" I asked trying to ease into the conversation.

"It was okay." He shrugged. "It was nice to get out of Hogwarts for a little while, but it wasn’t anything spectacular."

"Who was the date with?"

"It was with Hannah Abbott. I think you know her."

"I do know Hannah." I sadly nodded. She seemed perfect for Fred to go on a date with. I'm sure they had an amazing time and he was just saying these things to keep my feelings from being hurt.

"Did you ask her? Or did she ask you? Or was this more of a mutual thing?"

"I mean she instigated it, but it was a pretty mutual thing. Is everything alright (y/n)?"

"Yes."

"No it isn't. I can tell by the look on your face that everything isn't okay." He gently took my face in his hands so that I could look him in the face. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yes I know." I shyly looked away. "Honestly Fred, I didn't want you to go on a date with Hannah."

"Why not?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"I think you know why." I mumbled.

"Please enlighten me." He was grinning now. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Now he was just teasing me. He knew exactly why I didn’t want him on that date. This might be my only chance to say something. But at the same time, I didn't want to be a game to him. "Just say it (y/n)."

"Okay fine." I stood up so that I could run away if I needed to. "Please don’t go on another date with Hannah Abbott. Actually Fred, I don’t want you to go on a date with anyone else."

"Were you jealous (y/n)?" He smirked.

"You’re really going to make me spell it out for you." I grumbled rolling my eyes.

"No, I don't need you to do that. I'm going to honest with you, the date wasn't that good. So uh, (y/n), would you like to go on a date with me? I would hate to see you jealous again. Even though you were pretty cute."

Cedric: Hufflepuff, muggleborn, same year

For this one can we please pretend that Cedric didn't die during the Triwizard Tournament. Please and thank you.

I was furious. I had never been the jealous type, but lately Cedric had me feeling emotions that I had never felt before. My eyes narrowed at the very pretty Ravenclaw who was straight up flirting with Cedric. It’s not like I could be upset or anything. I wasn't even dating the guy.

So why did I feel envious when I saw them talking? I was bitter and spiteful. Cedric was someone who bounced between the line of friendly and flirtatious. I wanted to walk right over to him, grab his tie, and force my lips onto his.

At times it felt like he was interested in me. And at other times it felt like he just saw me as a friend. Why were boys so confusing? If you want me why wouldn’t you just say so? It’s not that hard.

After winning the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric became even more popular at Hogwarts. He had all these girls throwing themselves at him, but Cedric was not someone who liked to play with girl's emotions.

I knew that he was really busy with all the interviews he was having to do after winning. He was having to be extremely careful with any girls that he was seen talking to. Cedric told me that's why he had distanced himself from me these past couple of weeks.

We were very good friends and he didn't want the Daily Prophet or Rita Skeeter to turn our relationship into something it's not. Rita Skeeter had done enough digging into his personal life.

I appreciated Cedric for wanting to protect me, but would it be so bad if people did think we were together in that way? I mean maybe that would keep a certain raven-haired beauty from touching all over my man.

Well, he didn’t know that he was my man, but he was my man.

Cedric was obviously trying to keep Cho Chang at a distance from him. He was looking at her as if she was only a friend, but she wasn't taking the hint. Cedric was too much of a gentleman to do much about it though. He graciously accepted her compliments and politely smiled when she flirted with him. I wanted to scream.

I had seen enough of this and they were both going to hear about it from me.

"How desperate can you be Chang?" I grumbled walking by her. I didn’t stop walking. Instead, I kept walking by her as if I hadn't said anything. She scowled looking towards me. Cedric chuckled and gave me this amused looked.

"Is there something you want to say (l/n)?" She spat. I didn't expect her to respond and I whipped around glaring at her.

"Not really, I was just trying to give you some advice. You're a pretty girl, but even you can't make desperation look good."

"Oh please don't tell me that you've caught feelings." She threw her head back and laughed.

"No." My eyes narrowed at her. "I just know an attention seeking whore when I see one."

"(y/n)." Cedric scolded and lightly began dragging me way from her. "That wasn't very nice of you."

"Oh well." I shrugged grinning at the look on Cho Chang's face as we left.

"I've never seen you like this (y/n)." He stopped walking and stared down at me.

"Seen me how?" I raised an eyebrow. My expression told him to tread lightly.

"Jealous." He instantly replied.

"I was not jealous. I just wanted Chang to have more respect for herself. She was practically begging for you to take her upstairs to your bedroom."

"It was harmless flirting (y/n)." He chuckled.

"It was anything but harmless."

"I really like this jealous side of you. I hope to see it again." He jokingly pinched my side.

"I won't be so nice to her next time." I grumbled swatting his hand away.

"And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

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