#My neck and shoulders are aching because I don't have the fucking energy to sit normally.

[fourfuckinghorsemen]

Hm.

[tamayakii]

warning i am so high

phillip graves unlocks something in me, touches that part of my daddy issues that makes me sing. He's so country-bordering-red neck daddy energy, all of the looks-ugnff..,, the nimble yet gruff hands,,, years worth of callouses on them rubbing on your back as you sit on his lap, drifting dangerously close to your hips... wiping your cry baby tears away as he shushes you after he raised his voice a bit too loud for your poor heart. Those eyebrows furrowed upwards, lips thinning as when the inside of his lips caught on his teeth, often right before he spoke, a habit he has from his own father...

He knows what it's like for your dad gone emotionally. Having grown up in the classic white-picket family, expect the pristine paint to allude to a perfect family—which was not entirely true. He joined the military to deal with it, and now he has an entire company under him—in a way healing that tiny part of him by becoming a leader and teaching his men. He won't admit it though.

But you? Your father gave you nothing besides a few memories. No tools to try and survive in the cruel world, at least he had the makings of them. You had no tools, not even the plans to make them yourself. Left to wander with an aching heart, burying that hole and the pain with lies that you were fine.

Curling on the couch, laying your head next to Phil's right thigh. A beer in his left hand whilst the other pets your hair, some stupid (at least to you) football game. Letting you take small baby sips of the drink, chuckling at your twisted face. Fully tugging you on his lap, purring in a soft voice- "You're not supposed to like it, baby" his words sent warm fuzzies in your stomach. He doesn't just let you sit up in his lap, no no no... he basically cradles you now, letting your head fall on his shoulder, drawing your knees up.

He lets you satisfy the little girl in you, buys you the cutest frilly outfits, and lets you "win" in playfights just to hear you giggle like a madman. He lets you plan picnics because you want to plan one for once, so diligently—acting like it's all a big surprise, but he went with you to get the food you needed.

Standing beside him, as he works on his old high school truck. Telling you the stories of teenage him- oh GAWD. You know he lives in some big-ish town, still big enough that he may not know everyone, but small enough that he does see a majority of folks he knows.

God I need to ride his dick so bad, I need it so bad. Don't yell at me but I need him to be my daddy AND fuck me. FUCK

and don't get me on if you misbehave around him. The disappointment, dear god it's nearly overwhelming as the tears well in your eyes- Not used to the feelings stirring in your chest but you hate them so much. Phil forcing past frustrations when he sees the tears spill over, cupping your face as he tells you he's not mad... not anymore.

god fuck... the spankings would also be brutal as hell. Sobbing over his lap, slapping your bare ass cause he tore your panties down with your jeans. The rough fabric of his fingerless gloves added to the pain.

I literally cannot stop, somebody help.

OH MY GOD AND TRACING HIS SCAR TOO,,, him telling you mild war stories, having himself be the big hero, cause he is the hero in your mind. Sitting in his lap facing him, thighs straddling him, his hands interlocked behind your hips,,, sobbing on my knees.

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 16

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings: just a lot of fluff, draco malfoy & y/n, potential self harm references , plot heavy

Note: Hello! Yes it's finally here you're not dreaming... As always, endless thanks for your patience and support, knowing how much you guys love this fic is literally the only reason why I have kept this story going for so long. That being said, we're nearing the end now which is depressing but all we can do is savour the next couple of chapters before it all comes to an inevitable end :(

Anyway, this might be the longest chapter I've written so hopefully you enjoy this one!

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss

Hermione stirs awake due to your sudden movements next to her. You continue clutching your arm, grimacing. 

Biting down hard on your tongue to avoid screaming out, and to redirect some of the pain in your arm elsewhere.

Since that day at Malfoy Manor, every new summon from the Dark Lord has been nearly unbearable to combat.

It seems the more you fought it, the more excruciating it got; torturing you into submission. 

"Hey– why are you awake?" Hermione mutters groggily as she sits up as well.

You don't reply, only staring down at the Dark Mark, it pulses visibly, you wince again.

"Fuck–" You hiss, shutting your eyes tightly. You focus all your energy on fighting the affliction.

Hermione's expression rapidly turns to one of realization and then worry.

"It's hurting again?" Hermione asks, but she doesn't expect a response amidst your visible agony.

You observed as she hovered her hand over the mark on your arm. Hermione utters the incantation, and soon enough you are able to catch your breath again, the once torturous pulsing now reduced to a dull ache.

Painful, but bearable.

Your other senses return and finally you catch the other woman's gaze, you flash her a smile in relief and gratitude.

"Thank you." You say above a whisper, the Gryffindor responds by leaning in, planting several kisses on your cheek before nuzzling her face into your neck, holding you close.

She clutches onto you desperately, and you hold onto her same.

"I just hate to see you in pain." Hermione mumbles against your shoulder, you lean back to look at her.

"It wasn't always this bad.. You know who– he's getting desperate. Just like Harry said, he knows we are close to defeating him." You state, assuredly.

Your attempt to steer the conversation fails, your hopeful sentiment does nothing to sway Hermione, if anything she appears more distressed.

Your girlfriend looks away, helpless. Your brows furrow at the sight.

"What is it, my love?" You ask and Hermione hesitates to respond.

After a prolonged moment, her eyes finally meet yours again.

"I don't know– it just seems like you are having to sacrifice a whole lot to be here with me." The Gryffindor admits, she plays with your fingers nervously.

"Don't say that." You sigh.

You catch the tears welling up in Hermione's eyes, it makes you ache.

"I'm not here out of obligation, I'm here because I want to be." You state earnestly, trying your best to squander her doubts.

Stubbornly, Hermione continues to allow her anxieties to get ahold of her.

"What if the other Death Eaters– if they find us again– what if they do something to you?" The other woman continues to spiral, and you shake your head in disapproval.

"Hermione, you're not going to talk me into abandoning you.. not now. Not after everything we've endured." You affirm.

"But–" The Gryffindor starts and you swiftly interject.

"I don't care if they threaten to skin me alive.. I'm not leaving you." You counter dismissively and Hermione lets out a huff of amusement, she rolls her eyes, albeit half-heartedly.

"That's not funny." She scolds, your girlfriend glares at you to the best of her ability.

It only makes your heart swell.

"It wasn't a joke." You quip, gently cupping her cheek with your hand. 

Hermione eyes flutter shut as she leans into your touch, she releases a deep breath, tilting her head to place a chaste kiss on your palm.

"Either way, it's my fault. I should've never gone to the initiation, I should've fought against it." You insist, this time Hermione shakes her head, she grabs your wrist firmly.

"You didn't have a choice." She counters, and after deliberating, you nod.

You were merely buying time, an attempt to throw your parents off your trail. You didn't have a choice.

"No I didn't–" You agree.

"But I do now– and I'm choosing you. That is all." You state and Hermione's tense expression softens at last.

She leans in to capture your lips with her own, kissing you deeply. Amidst your lip lock, your girlfriend moves to straddle you, her hand moves to the nape of your neck. Your own hands instinctively settle on Hermione's waist as she opens her mouth wider, inviting you to deepen the kiss.

As your tongue enters her mouth, you are allowed a fleeting moment of bliss before you feel another sharp pain, it courses through your arm, so sudden and unwelcomed that you are forced to break the kiss.

Hermione chases your lips for a moment before gathering herself, once again she appears concerned, but you school your expression, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Go back to sleep.. I need to get some air." You say, gently shoving your girlfriend off your lap.

Hermione takes the hint, but still, she sees right through you.

"What's wrong?" She asks as she settles on her side of the bed once more.

"Nothing. I just need to clear my head. I'll be right back, I promise." You reply, as convincingly as you can manage.

Hermione isn't satisfied with your response, but she decides not to push it further. 

She nods, loosening her grip on your sleeve.

You avoid eye contact as you plant a lingering kiss on her forehead, one Hermione can't help but melt into.

The Gryffindor has to fight the urge to force you to stay as you climb out of bed, stepping out of the tent.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You wrap your arms around yourself as the cold breeze pierces through the midnight air, edged and ruthless.

The sharp sting that was once contained to your left arm has since spread throughout your entire body, your coat proving less than adequate to keep you even remotely warm. 

You quickly regret your decision to leave the comfort of Hermione's embrace. 

Just as you've decided on returning to the tent, a faint light in the distance catches your attention, and soon you make out a male figure in the shadows as it approaches you.

Quickly deducing that it couldn't be neither Harry nor Ron, as they were both asleep in their respective tents.

You instinctively fish out your wand from your pocket, you grip it tightly, prepared to use it if needed.

As you catch a glimpse of platinum hair, your face contorts in shock. The notes of his cologne envelops your senses, familiar and unmistakable, you don't get the opportunity to consider if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

"Draco? what–" You gape.

"Listen, I can't stay long." Your best friend interjects, halting directly in front of you.

Then, your body reacts before your mind can mitigate it. You lunge forward, practically jumping into his arms. 

Draco is stunned for a moment, until he finally embraces you just as tightly in return.

"How are you?" He asks as soon as you separate.

You scoff. It was an impossible question to answer, a bit silly frankly, but you knew Draco was merely asking out of genuine concern.

"I'm alright." You reply, you watch as he nods, chewing on his bottom lip.

"What about you?" You return the gesture and he chuckles, humorless.

Draco shrugs, avoiding an answer entirely.

"Things are getting really tense." He claims, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Your parents have sent out a band of snatchers to look for you." Your best friend states and you aren't particularly shocked. 

"Of course they did." You comment through a long sigh.

Draco steps closer, even though you were seemingly entirely alone, the platinum haired man remains paranoid.

"Word has spread about you and Hermione, and– what you did to Bellatrix. I can't guarantee that the other Death Eaters won't harm you if they find you." Your best friend remarks. An uneasy feeling settles at the pit of your stomach, you fold your arms over your chest.

"You have to lay low– or just come back home, please, it's far too dangerous." He pleads.

"Draco, you know I can't do that." You respond with a scowl, but the man was insistent.

"If you come home, at the very least, your parents– they'll protect you." His attempts to convince you prove fruitless, Draco only grows increasingly desperate.

"You're going to get yourself killed. Out here– with them." He finally states plainly, gesturing to the tent behind you, and you can't find it in yourself to deny a plain truth.

"Maybe." You say, and you pause as Draco sets his jaw, somehow he is more worried than you are.

"But I can't leave her." You add and finally he scoffs.

"You are so stubborn." The platinum haired man hisses, but you don't take offense, only finding the irony in his words.

"You're one to talk." You retaliate, and Draco finally tears his eyes away.

Your best friend knows now that you've made up your mind, nothing he says in this moment will convince you otherwise.

"Then know this– The Dark Lord is planning an ambush on Hogwarts, any day now." Draco now basically whispering directly into your ear.

"Ambush? Why? Snape's headmaster now, Dumbledore's gone, isn't that what he wanted?" You lean back slightly, perplexed.

Draco shrugs but now he appears noticeably distressed, more than he was just a moment ago, the man checks your surroundings once more.

"I think he wants to take over, and leave people no choice but to join his cause. No doubt he will kill anyone who dares to go against him." Your best friend adds, and your mouth falls open slightly at the realization.

Voldermort was definitely getting desperate.

"Just promise me that you'll stay away." Draco reiterates sternly, but you don't reply, your gaze fixed on the darkness, far in the distance as you allow your mind to speculate.

"Y/n." Draco insists on a response, he snaps you out of your thoughts.

"It's up to Harry, really. Hermione will follow his lead, I have to as well." You finally say, and it's not the answer the man was hoping for, his head falls below his shoulders in defeat.

Just before you can conjure some version of an apology, Draco wraps his arms around you, once again. He hugs you in a way that lets you know how afraid he truly is, a crippling feeling you both shared. 

Things are entirely uncertain now. It is possible you may never see each other again.

"I really hope she's worth it." The man says as he releases you, and just as you open your mouth to respond, you hear a rustling from the tent behind you.

Draco flinches and your head snaps back to investigate the noise.

In just a fraction of a second, a sudden gust of air tickles the side of your face. The same side where Draco was standing just moments ago.

You no longer feel his presence, his cologne now a lingering scent. He's disapparated and frustratingly, you can't contain the tears prickling in your eyes.

However, you force yourself not to let them fall as Hermione soon peaks her head out of the tent, before taking a large step outside. 

You recognize your cardigan wrapped around her frame. 

"Y/n, who were you talking to?"

════════════════════════════════════════════

Harry and Ron narrow their gaze at you in disbelief, while Hermione kept her hand intertwined with yours.

The conversation with Draco had casted a shadow over you, sudden and nearly paralyzing. It seems you were grieving. 

You grieved the chance to go home and be with your family. Mainly you can't help but feel you've failed Draco in some way. 

It weighed on you, knocked you off your feet. Hermione senses this but she can only offer to hold your hand as you try to find your footing.

"What, you still don't trust me?" You scoff as The Chosen One and his best friend continued to stare at you with skepticism.

"No, not really.." Ron quips, and you don't care enough to grace him with a reaction, luckily for him, Harry finally speaks up.

"It's not that– why would Draco help us?" He ponders, no longer skeptical, just doubtful.

"Yeah, how do you know he's not setting us up? The Death Eaters might be on their way already." The ginger haired man is still convinced of your ulterior motives and you finally glower at him.

"Ron, if that were true they would've taken us already, you know that." Hermione chimes in before you, and you are thankful for it.

"In any case– we'll have to go back to Hogwarts anyway." Harry states, the one thing you were afraid he would utter.

You hold your head in your hands for a moment. As righteous and frustrating as he can be, of course Harry will always try to do the right thing.

That is the exact opposite of what you should do right now.

"And what? Offer yourself up as bait?" You taunt, but he is unfazed, certain of his decision.

"I can't just let them die." He asserts and you glance at Hermione, a look on her face that shows she is not exactly on your side, not this time.

"What exactly is your plan, Potter?" You relent.

"The Horcrux is hidden somewhere in the castle, we have to go there and locate it and kill it– and if Draco is right, if you know who marches on Hogwarts that means the snake will be with him, I can find the snake. I will kill it and we'll get a step closer to ending him, once and for all." The dark haired man declares with such conviction, but it does nothing to convince you.

The task will not be an easy one, there are bound to be consequences.

"Fine." Ron mutters in agreement.

Then Harry shifts his gaze to Hermione, "Alright." She nods in approval as well.

The scowl that covers your features only falters as you meet Hermione's expectant look.

You roll your eyes, it was three against one. It is not like you have much of a choice.

"Something tells me this is going to go horribly wrong.." You trail off.

"But alright."

════════════════════════════════════════════

You apparate into Hogsmeade, and the incessant screeching that pierces the evening air was deafening. It disorients the four of you, but you quickly gain your bearings as you spot the group of Death Eaters in the distance.

You, along with the golden trio, continue to use the darkness to your advantage. You disappear into the shadows, eventually crouching down behind a large table.

Soon the Death Eaters disperse into different directions, but a pair of them continue to head your way.

Heavy footsteps approach, the pair of men mutter something intelligible before they begin scanning through the area, looking underneath each table.

The four of you glance at each other, desperate for a way out. It was too late to disapparate, you were at all loss, you were about to get caught, again.

The sense of dread that overpowers you is only subdued as you feel Hermione clutching onto your arm.

You are graced with a fleeting moment of clarity, soon enough, an idea occurs to you.

You roll up your sleeves quickly, leaving your Dark Mark exposed.

Hermione observes your action silently, perplexed.

Then you begin to rise, but before your head can emerge into view, she harshly pulls you back down with a death grip on your collar.

She scowls.

"What are you doing?" She whispers, but her tone is sharp, vexed.

"Just trust me." You respond, providing no further explanation, you extract your wand quickly as you fight out of her hold as you stand up abruptly.

The pair of Death Eaters jumps slightly at the sight of you. You quickly realize that both men were unfamiliar to you; there is a chance they don't recognize you either.

You continue to push your luck, stepping out of the shadows. When the mark on your arm comes into view, their expressions grow less tense, and you release the breath you were holding.

It appears your luck has yet to run out. 

"He's not under here, I've just checked." You lie, and it doesn't take the men much convincing to take your word.

They give you a curt nod.

"You cover the rest of this side, we'll check over there." One of the Death Eaters orders, soon they both turn to walk in opposite directions, splitting up to cover more of the area.

You waited until they were out of view before crouching down again, but to your confusion, Hermione was nowhere to be found.

No trace of Harry and Ron either.

"Lumos." As you searched for them, you began trying to mentally uncover an explanation.

You wonder if they had perhaps apparated elsewhere, but you eventually decide against the possibility. Certain that your girlfriend wouldn't just leave you like that, at least not without some type of forewarning.

Soon, you are inching past a dark alley, rows of abandoned pubs and houses come into view, but no sign of the trio.

"Hermione–" You finally call out, frustrated.

They are hiding, somewhere.

As you near the seemingly abandoned Hog's Head pub, the door suddenly opens, and you are dragged in by the arm, the touch you immediately recognized.

You can't contain it as you beamed in relief as  you step inside,your girlfriend locks the door swiftly before dragging you further down a flight of stairs. 

Once you get to the bottom of the steps the Gryffindor finally turns to you. Your grin now reduced to an easy smirk as you stared at Hermione, merely gratified at the knowledge that she had no true plans to abandon you.

Then the other woman gazes at you knowingly, a tangible sense of devotion and deeply rooted trust, a feeling that tethers you to the other. 

The pair of you now certain that you could survive anything, as you will always have each other to rely on.

It moves your very spirit, the urge to act upon your desires overcomes your being and Hermione in turn, gives into her own. Soon you are both leaning in, as your lips crashed against Hermione's, she kisses you, despairingly and unafraid. She presses her body up against yours and you fall back against the wall behind you. 

"You need to stop taking risks like that, they could've recognized you." Hermione breathes out as your mouths separate, she runs her fingers through your hair.

You don't respond, merely scanning her delicate features with your eyes, you find yourself memorizing every freckle and crease. 

You thumb tracing over her bottom lip causing them to part slightly.

Then, you kiss her again, open mouthed and forceful. Hermione welcomes this, as she lets slip a faint noise of approval, your hand rests on the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer.

Your plans to continue the kiss is ruined as you hear the harsh noise; the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Hermione pulls away first, then she looks away, sheepish.

Contrastingly you stare down the source of the interruption. Ron's disapproving stare has done nothing but vex you in the past, and this time it is no different.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we've got more important matters to deal with right now." The snide remark irritates you, but not as much as it might have once did as you recognized that he had a fair point.

Before you can retaliate, the swinging door leading into the kitchen opens, a man enters.

A man you quickly realized to have an uncanny resemblance to the previous headmaster of Hogwarts.

You observed as he set down a tray of bread and butterbeer. As Ron approaches the tray, Hermione does as well, dragging you along with her, but you kept your gaze on the man, squinting slightly, perplexed.

"Aberforth. Dumbledore's brother." Hermione finally leans in to whisper into your ear, providing you the answer to your question.

You take a single bite of the bread, nearly too tough to chew and almost impossible to swallow. 

You gently place it back onto the tray, as polite as you can manage, you force the tough piece of bread down your throat and ingest nothing else after that.

Hermione and Ron continue chewing eagerly, merely glad of the decent bit of sustenance.

Harry doesn't move; he continues watching the painting of a girl, mounted up on the wall.

You find yourself staring at it as well, finally you catch the figure blink, as if it just took notice of you. Her shoulders rose and fell ever so slightly as she breathed, but her expression remained stoic.

"Do you hear from the others much– from the Order?" Hermione asks, after swallowing the contents in her mouth.

Aberforth narrows his gaze.

"The Order's finished. 'You know who' has won, anyone who says otherwise is killing themselves." He states definitively, his pessimism isn't lost on any of you. 

"We need to get into Hogwarts tonight. Dumbledore gave us a job to do." Harry asserts, and Aberforth glances at him, almost amused.

"Did he now, Nice job? Easy?" The older man's condescension was beginning to make your head hurt.

Harry's patience stretches further than yours, as he manages a civil response.

"We've been hunting Horcruxes. We think the last one's inside the castle, but we'll need your help getting in." The chosen one states firm and unfazed.

Hermione quietly offers you her mug of butterbeer, you accept it gladly, taking a sip as the older man grants Harry an equally negative response.

"This is no job, my brother's given you. It's a suicide mission. Do yourself a favor, boy, go home. Live a little longer." 

"Dumbledore entrusted me to see this through." Harry's conviction doesn't falter even as he begins to grow agitated himself. 

"What makes you think you can trust him? What makes you think you can believe anything my brother told you? In all the time that you knew him, did he ever mention my name?" Aberforth taunts, the vitriol lacing his statements makes you grimace.

You glance at Hermione, she is sporting a similar look.

"Has he ever mentioned her?" The older man gestures to the painting.

Harry shrugs.

"Why should he–" He starts.

"Keep secrets? You tell me." Aberforth finishes for him.

"I trusted him." Harry insistent on not backing down.

"That's a boy's answer!" Aberforth barks.

"A boy who goes chasing Horcruxes on the word of a man who wouldn't even tell him where to start, you're lying!" The older man slurs, gesturing with a goblet still in hand.

Then, it finally occurred to you that the younger Dumbledore was drunk. At least drunk enough to take out his anger on the wrong person.

"Not just to me, that doesn't matter– to yourself as well. That's what a fool does. You don't strike me as a fool, Harry Potter, so I ask you again, there must be a reason." Aberforth continues, stepping closer the dark haired man. 

Perhaps an effort to intimidate, but miraculously, Harry manages to keep a level head as he holds the man's hard stare.

"I'm not interested in what happened between you and your brother, I don't care that you've given up. I trusted the man I knew. We need to get into the castle, tonight." The Chosen One declares, and Aberforth is visibly taken aback by Harry's response, and so are you.

Then, the long bearded man nods subtly to the painting above Harry. The four of you watched intently as the girl walked further into it, disappearing into the distance.

"Where have you sent her?" Ron asks.

"You'll see, soon enough." Aberforth mutters, he walks with his goblet, toward the exit.

"That's your sister Arianna, isn't it? She died very young, didn't she?" Hermione asks, gesturing to the now vacant painting.

Aberforth pauses to look at her.

"My brother sacrificed many things, Mr Potter, on his journey to find power. Including Arianna." Aberforth's reply, a final attempt to sway Harry, but his devotion to the former headmaster of Hogwarts remains.

"Thank you, Mr Dumbledore." Your girlfriend expresses earnestly, and the man only nods, dejected, soon disappearing through the doorway.

"He did save our lives twice, and kept an eye on us in that mirror." Hermione looks between you, Harry and Ron.

"That doesn't seem like someone who's given up." She says in a hushed tone, now looking directly at Harry.

He averts his gaze, mulling over his best friend's statement.

A prolonged silence hangs around you before the painting starts to shift and move, soon it opens outward like a door, revealing a dark passageway.

You catch movement in the shadows, your hand instinctively moves to wrap around Hermione's waist. Your girlfriend doesn't hesitate to step slightly closer to you, also acting on instinct.

The figure that emerges is not one you'd expect, you quickly recognize it to be Neville Longbottom.

You didn't know him well, beyond a few fleeting interactions at school in the past, but 

based on Harry's reaction, you considered his presence to be a welcomed one.

"Neville? You look–" The dark haired boy beams, and his friend interjects.

"Like hell I reckon." Neville quips.

"This is nothing, Seamus is worse." 

He grins, his gaze shifts between the golden trio, and when his eyes fall on you, he appears stunned, for a moment.

You decide to flash him a clipped smile, one he eventually returns.

"We best get a move on." The man finally gestures.

════════════════════════════════════════════

"I don't remember this on the Marauder's Map." Ron questions as the four of you follow Neville through the dingy passageway. 

You trailed closely next to Hermione, and Ron behind you.

"That's because it never existed until now, the other secret passages were sealed off before the start of the year. This is the only way in or out now." Neville explains, the light from his wand continues to barely illuminate the path ahead.

"The grounds are crawling with Death Eaters and Dementors." He remarks and suddenly you feel inclined once more to hide the Dark Mark beneath your sleeve.

Hermione catches your subtle action, but doesn't comment on it.

"How bad is it with Snape as Headmaster?" She asks instead, returning her attention ahead.

"Hardly ever see him. It's the Carrows you need to watch out for." Neville quips and your face contorts in disbelief.

"Carrows?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, they're in charge of discipline." His friend states.

"What? They put the Carrows in charge?" You gape, appalled.

"What is it? How horrible are they?" Hermione asks as she notices your reaction.

"I mean they're insane, fanatics– obsessed with blood purity. But last I heard, they were locked up in Azkaban." You admit and now Hermione's expression is nothing short of horrified.

You intertwined your fingers, an attempt to wordlessly reassure her.

"Well, they're out now." Neville states.

"Who do you think did this to me?" He adds, turning around for a moment to point at the deep gash on his face. 

Although his tone was lighthearted, you can't help but feel a twinge of remorse.

After a few more steps, the five of you halt behind a flat wall. You eventually make it out to be the back of a painting, similar to one at the pub.

Neville pushes it open, he pauses to address the crowd on the other side, and soon enough, he steps aside to reveal Harry.

The room suddenly erupts with claps and cheers as they welcome The Chosen One.

Hermione continued to hold your hand as you stepped out of the passageway and into the room, Ron following suit.

You receive a few stares as you emerge next to Hermione, but no one addresses you directly, not until Seamus catches sight of you.

"What is she doing here?" He jeers, as the cheering for Harry completely dies down. 

Now all eyes are definitely on you.

To your complete surprise, Ron is first to come to your defense.

"Back off alright, she's on our side." The ginger haired man says but Seamus is less than convinced.

"I'm sure that's what she wants us to believe. We've learnt well enough by now not to trust the word of any Slytherin." He spat as he stepped closer, and Seamus' attempt to intimidate you only works to amuse you.

You can't help the mocking smile that forms on your lips, and his scowl simply deepens at the sight.

"I say get her out of here." He announces, glancing around the room for any supporters of his idea.

"No!" Hermione interjects, she swiftly sets her body in between you and Seamus.

"We wouldn't be here without her help, Seamus you have no idea what you're on about." Ron defends you again, and this time you are truly bewildered.

Noticing he is outnumbered, Seamus relents.

"I've got my eye on you." He hands you the passing threat, and you tilt your head slightly.

"Is that supposed to frighten me?" You taunt, unfolding your arms, now you are prepared to go for your wand.

"Enough! None of this is going to help us defeat 'you know who'. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves." Harry quickly shuts down the possibility. 

"Harry's right." Neville steps forward.

"So what's the plan?" He asks, and soon all attention is on Harry once more as everyone awaits his call.

"Okay, there's something hidden here in the castle, and it may help us defeat 'you know who'." He starts, his voice bounces off the stone walls as the room goes silent.

"Right. What is it?" Neville asks expectantly.

"We don't know." Harry responds truthfully and his friend glances at Saemus for a moment.

"Where is it?" He tries again and Harry shakes his head.

"We don't know that either." He repeats and the group standing before the four of you continue staring, deadpan.

You allow your head to droop, letting out a prolonged sigh.

"Look, I realize that's not much to go on." Harry starts.

"That's nothing to go on." Seamus interjects.

"I think it has something to do with Ravenclaw. Um, it'll be small, easily concealed." Harry recalls his visions.

"Anyone have any ideas?" He asks, the desperation in his voice was evident.

For a while it seems all hope was lost, until Luna finally speaks.

"Well there's Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem." She suggests.

"Bloody hell, there we go." Ron releases a breath of relief.

Now the deadpan gaze is shifted towards the platinum haired girl.

"Lost diadem of Ravenclaw, has anyone ever heard of it? It's quite famous." Luna adds.

"Yes, but Luna, it's lost, for centuries now, there isn't a person alive who's seen it." Cho chimes in from next to her.

"Excuse me, can someone please tell me what a bloody diadem is?" Ron pleads, and you let out a huff of amusement, against your better judgment.

Hermione finds the opportunity to glare at you.

"It's a sort of crown, you know, like a Tiara." Cho explains, but it gives none of you any clue of where to locate it.

Before the discussion can go any further, the main door opens, soon Ginny bursts in, she is stunned for a moment as she spots Harry.

"Harry." She gapes.

"Hello." The dark haired man responds, equally jarred.

Ron scoffs as his sister pays no attention to him.

"Five months she hasn't seen me, it's like I'm 'Frankie first year'.. I'm her brother." He remarks above a whisper, and you grin.

"Yes but she's got a lot of brothers doesn't she? There's only one Harry." You quip teasingly, earning a smile from Hermione.

The ginger haired man merely rolls his eyes.

"Shut up, Y/n." He huffs.

"What is it Ginny?" Seamus finally asks.

"Snape knows. He knows Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade." 

[iwritesickfic]

Surprise, part 2

(part 1 here!)

It's a difficult night. Very difficult. Theo can't seem to get to any consistent sleep, which means Seamus can't sleep either. Sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning his throat is too sore to speak again, though his delirious mind doesn't quite understand, so for the brief time he is asleep, he's trying to talk. Whether they're dreams or nightmares Seamus can't tell, just that Theo murmurs in an endless string, only quieting when Seamus strokes his hair and hushes him.

He falls asleep sitting up, Theo between his legs, curled against his chest, and sleeps so deeply he wakes up in exactly the same position when his alarm sounds at 8 the next morning.

The first thing he registers is the scalding, shivering body on his chest, chapped lips moving wordlessly. He tries not to wake him as he reaches for his phone to turn off the alarm, but Theo jolts awake with a shaky breath.

“Shh, shh,” Seamus says, almost automatically, and Theo makes a hoarse sound before coughing weakly. “Don't talk, baby.”

Theo pushes himself up, wincing as he swallows. He opens his mouth again, as if to speak, before closing it. He starts to look around, like he's missing something.

“What?” Seamus asks, and Theo points at the phone in his hand. “Here,” he says, handing Theo his phone from where he left it on the bedside table.

His hands are trembling as he does whatever he needs to do, and Seamus kisses him as he gets out of bed, stretching. He's so stiff from sleeping in such an odd position, and more than a little sweaty. His neck cracks as he reaches his arms up. He desperately needs a shower before Theo’s doctors come over. Theo probably needs one too, but Seamus doubts he has the energy for it.

A robotic voice half startles him - “what the fuck is going on?” Seamus turns around to see Theo with his phone held out to him, open to text-to-speech.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, rolling his stiff shoulders.

Theo looks down at his phone, fingers shaking as he types, before the stilted female voice starts again. “I have a million missed calls from Emma and Z.”

He doesn't look angry, just exhausted. Seamus sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.

“I told Emma last night I thought they should cancel the shows until next week,” he pauses, looking at Theo’s face for any sign of anger or frustration but finding none. “I know it's not my choice but I really, really think you should consider it. I made a couple doctor appointments this morning too, I think you might just need your tonsils out.” He cups Theo’s cheek, his skin burning beneath his palm. He looks completely miserable, totally sapped of energy.

He looks down at his phone, typing for a while before pressing play again.

“I want that so bad but they're never going to let me. I'll have to cancel the rest of tour if I get my tonsils out. also can you please please please make me some tea? my throat hurts like a bitch”

Seamus leans in and kisses him gently, and despite how drained he is Theo kisses him back, resting his forehead on Seamus's as they pull apart. His body follows Seamus's as he pulls away, as if tugged by a magnet.

The only thing Seamus can feel is his heart aching in his chest. It's tight and sore. Part of it is because selfishly, he's missed this so much. To share this tenderness again after so long apart is enough to make him cry. And the other half, of course, is the heart wrenching pain of knowing how sick he is. It's so clear, the way he's so desperate to be close to him. Altogether, it’s almost debilitating. He doesn't want to do anything other than hold him and rest his lips on his temple and stop his shivering. He wants to give Theo exactly what he wants, whatever he wants. But there's too much to be done.

“Everything is going to work out exactly like it should,” he finally whispers. “We’re gonna do what the doctor says and they’ll have to listen, and I'll be with you no matter what.” He forces himself to pull away and stand, Theo’s hand still holding his. “And yes, obviously. What flavor do you want?”

Theo offers him a weak smile before typing again.

“throat coat,” the robotic voice says and Seamus nods, almost laughing.

“Yeah, that'd make sense wouldn't it? Alright, well, I'll be right back, ok?” he says, and Theo nods. He gives him one last kiss on the forehead before going into the closet to throw clothes on. He grabs two of everything from his side of the wardrobe and gives half of it to Theo before heading downstairs.

As he's making his way down, he finally puts his glasses on and takes a look at his phone. He’ll need to cancel everything he has in Ireland for the near future, or convert as much as he can to video meetings. His mind is racing with the logistics of how he's going to make staying in the States work, when he gets a call from Zeke. He picks up within a single ring.

“Hello?” he says as he rounds the corner at the bottom of the stairs, walking into the dark living room.

“Hey, morning. How's it going?” Zeke asks, and Seamus scrubs his hand over his face as he flips the lights on in the kitchen. He puts the phone on speaker as he starts the familiar routine of making tea.

“It's going,” he says, voice clipped. He's still not quite over the anger from last night.

“Look, I'm sorry. It's a very…a very delicate situation. And to be honest, I thought you knew.”

Seamus flicks the kettle on and grabs two of their biggest mugs.

“Of course I didn't know. If I’d known a month ago it never would've gotten this bad. And I wouldn't have been in Dublin jerking my fucking dick,” he says, though it lacks any real bite.

“This isn't your fault,” Zeke says, and Seamus sighs. He leans against the countertop.

“I…” He trails off, then picks up the phone as he heads to the pantry. “I just should've known. I should've been able to tell,” he says, looking through their meticulously organized boxes of tea before plucking out two tea bags and grabbing the bottle of honey. Zeke sighs now, his voice muffled over the phone.

“There’s no way you could've known. Did he say why…” Zeke trails off.

“Because he knew I'd react like I'm reacting. But I'm reacting fine! I'm completely justified.” He keeps rambling before he can stop himself, “His voice could be ruined. He could've fallen off stage and broken his neck or gone septic or ended up in the ER. And honestly I’m not even mad about the what ifs. He's suffering, night after night, for what? For money in the pockets of assholes who don't care if he lives or dies?”

“You know it's more complicated than that, Seamus. C’mon.”

“No, Z. It's not. We can reschedule the dates. I know you have the contingencies reserved already. What are they for if not this? How much sicker does he have to get? Because he’ll get there, and you’ll have to do all this anyway. And it won't be optional.” His hand shakes as he pours the hot water. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “And I know there are people's jobs. Of course I know that, but it's not like we’d leave them high and dry. I wouldn't let that happen at least. And people will be upset but I think they'd be more upset if he fainted in the middle of their precious fucking show.”

“No, I know. Trust me, I’m with you. The promoter and the label are resistant because they'll have to manage a lot of fallout, but I really don't see it affecting the bottom line that much,” Zeke finally says, his voice tired.

“Exactly! Thank you. I mean if it really is an issue of fucking money, I have money. Christ.” He's stirring in the honey now, and forces himself to unclench his jaw.

“It's gonna come down to what the doctors say. Keep me updated, I'm in meetings today trying to figure out what's going on, I'll let you know if we need anything,” Zeke says.

“Ok, thanks. I'll talk to you later,” he says, grabbing a wedge of lemon from the fridge.

“Later,” Zeke says before the line goes dead. Seamus lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his eyes.

–

By the time the doctors have come and gone, Theo's mug’s been refilled four times. He's sitting up in bed now, his damp hair tied in a ragged bun, wearing a hoodie of Seamus's. He looks even more miserable than he did when they first woke up, if that's possible.

The doctor was pretty quickly able to diagnose him with tonsillitis, but what Seamus didn't expect was an abscess. And in turn, Theo needing surgery. Urgently. They’ll need to leave for the hospital in a few hours and likely spend the night, and there's certainly no way he’ll be on stage any time soon.

It's frightening hearing about how severe things really are. The doctor said that only a day or two more without intervention the abscess would've burst and sent him septic. He tries not to think about what would've happened if he didn't come.

Seamus feels terrible for him. He knows the guilt of canceling a show, the weight of letting all those people down, is crushing. And he knows what thoughts must be running through his head - what if he never sings again? What if the surgery goes wrong and his voice is fucked forever? How long will it be before he’s better?

He doesn't bring any of it up, just lets Theo rest against him as they watch reality TV and refills his tea and kisses his forehead. He's so looking forward to the day where his body isn't so nerve-wrackingly hot, but that's not likely to be anytime soon either. Even after they take everything out, he’ll probably have a fever for another five days at least, the doctor said.

“It's normal for it to get steadily worse over the week post surgery, then a huge improvement,” the doctor had said. He'd said a lot of things, and Seamus had tried to write it all down, but he definitely missed most of it.

He's never seen Theo like this. So listless and drained and sick. And silent. Granted, that speaks more to his physical state than mental, but still. Theo always has something to say.

–

Theo is fairly sure this is the worst day of his life. One of the worst, at least. Physically, it's agony. He hurts all over, a throbbing, hot pain in every muscle and joint and bone. He's freezing, he can't get warm, but he's dripping so much sweat that his hair is wet and his shirt is stuck to him. And his throat. His fucking throat. Never, ever has it hurt this bad. Without the oxys or whatever the production medics were giving him every four hours it's unbearable. He dreads swallowing. It's so bad that he finds himself focusing all his energy on trying not to swallow, his tongue feeling heavy and awkward in his mouth as he wills himself to keep still.

Mentally? It's nearly as bad. In a few hours there will be scalpel dangerously close to his vocal chords. 70 thousand people will find out, or have already found out, there won't be a show tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. There’ll be tabloid stories about him in rehab or arrested or some other insane explanation for why he’ll need so much time off.

But right now, he's curled in Seamus's lap, and they're watching something, and all he can really think about is how badly he hurts. And then every so often Seamus will give him a blessedly cool kiss or touch and he’ll be overwhelmed with gratitude. I love you I love you I love you. If he could speak, that's all he'd say.

He came so close so many times in the last month. So close to calling Seamus and begging him to fly to wherever he was and hold him and rescue him from his own personal living hell. One particularly bad night was a rain show in Arizona, and he'd been so sick that day that every time he came off stage they'd take his temperature. He wasn't sure what number he wanted to see after a while. It was pouring the whole night, his clothes soaked while he shook with chills.

At the hotel that night he took a very ill advised hot shower, then laid on the cold tile floor and stared at his phone. If Seamus called now, he told himself, Theo would tell him everything. “How are you, love?” he'd ask in his heavenly voice, and Theo would tell him. “I need you, I'm so sick, I need you.”

Then he'd dream about him. He'd dream of his cool lips and hands, melting through the heat of his fever. But he'd always wake up just as sick. And just as alone. And if he was lucky he'd have a day off to sleep in the sweat soaked sheets of his hotel bed. If he was less lucky, he'd have to be up and performing by 7 that night.

He's beyond grateful now, even though the weight of about a hundred thousand people's disappointments are pressing on his shoulders. They'd probably bought plane tickets, hotel rooms, taken off work, all for a show that he wouldn't be having. The rest of the tour is probably moot, his throat is fucked beyond repair. It'll take months for him to recover.

On the other hand, even a week of dedicated rest sounds unimaginably good right now.

He's drifting in and out of sleep, nestled between Seamus's legs, leaning back on his chest. He'd never move from this spot if he could. But he’ll have to. Eventually.

–

Seamus feels like he's had a thousand cups of coffee as he sits by the side of Theo’s hospital bed. He hasn't, of course. He's barely had water since Theo went into surgery. His nerves feel frayed and his anxiety is in overdrive.

Theo's still asleep from the anesthesia, his body looking so pale against the stark white sheets. His hair sticks out like a sore thumb, vibrant red auburn on the pillowcase.

He's going to be fine, Seamus repeats to himself. The surgery has gone off without a hitch, he's just fine. But Seamus won't really believe it until Theo wakes up.

Nurses have been in and out, most doing a double take at him and their clipboards before talking to Seamus. They all know who he is, and Seamus is just grateful for privacy laws. That doesn't stop random nurses from all over the hospital from coming and peeking their heads in though.

A nurse is adjusting his IV, making idle chit chat with Seamus, when Theo makes a soft sound, his eyes fluttering. Seamus’s throat tightens, and he can't grab Theo’s pale, hot hand fast enough.

His brows are immediately furrowed in pain, and he whimpers softly when Seamus strokes his hair.

“Hey, love,” he whispers, and Theo swallows hard, wincing.

“Hey,” he chokes out, and his hand with the IV tries to fly to his throat before the nurse catches it. “Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You're ok, you're ok,” Seamus murmurs, running his thumb back and forth over the back of Theo’s hand.

“You want some water, honey?” the nurse asks, and Theo turns his head to look at her.

“S’over?” He mumbles, and the nurse smiles as she finishes securing the IV.

“Yup. Quick as a blink. All done,” she says. “Water?”

Theo nods, and she leaves. He looks back at Seamus.

“That was it?” he asks, and Seamus nods, smoothing some hair off his forehead. He's still so feverish, it makes Seamus's heart clench in worry even though realistically it's no threat anymore.

“You don't have to talk if it hurts. I won't be offended,” he tries to joke, and a smile just barely tugs at Theo’s lips.

“I love you,” he whispers back, and Seamus has to fight to swallow the lump in his throat. He lifts Theo’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Still unnervingly warm. He makes a soft, contented sound and just stares at him, eyes half lidded. “So beautiful.”

That makes Seamus laugh. His hair hasn't been washed in days, and he's in his spare, thick rimmed glasses.

“Thank you, Teddy,” he says, and strokes his hair back out of his face. There are only a few strands out of place, but it gives him something to do. It gives him an excuse to touch him.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, looking totally lovestruck. Seamus laughs again, but before he can reply the nurse is back with the water, and Theo gives her a smile as he takes the cup in his shaking hand. “Isn't he just so pretty?” he asks the nurse, and Seamus feels his cheeks heat. She chuckles.

“Definitely. Like a model.” She's making notes on her clipboard.

Theo’s smile widens slightly.

“Mm. I know,” he whispers. “And he's mine.”

“Drink your water,” Seamus says, feeling the heat of a blush on his cheeks. The nurse shoots him a smirk before leaving again. Before Seamus can say anything else, his phone starts to ring. Zeke.

“Hey,” he says, his hand still in Theo’s.

“Hey, what's up?”

“Nothing much. He just woke up. It went well, he should be discharged in a few hours.”

“Awesome, that's a relief. I hate to bother you guys with this but they want some kind of social media post. He can't, um…?” Zeke trails off, and Seamus is glad he seems to understand how stupid the request is. Theo is giving him a look as if to ask who it is and Seamus rolls his eyes in return.

“No, but I'll talk with him and post something. How's everything going over there?”

“It's…ok. It's fine.” There's some muffled conversation in the background, then he can tell Zeke is talking to someone across the room. “Fine! Fine!” he says, before getting closer to the receiver, “Are you there?”

“Yup.”

“They- We all think it'd be good to include a photo. Of him. In the bed.” Zeke’s words are clipped and forced. Seamus sighs.

“Ok, so…” He takes another deep breath. Theo's still staring at him, looking half asleep and half infatuated. “No. We’re not doing that.”

He can almost picture Zeke throwing his head back as he groans.

“Come here,” Theo says in his barely-there voice, and Seamus squeezes his hand.

“It…It gives credibility. It gives sympathy,” Zeke says, clearly parroting back what he was told.

“No, I know. But no one is owed a picture of him like that.”

“Just ask, ok? Just ask him,” Zeke concedes. Theo tugs on his hand.

“Ok, ok. I have to go.”

“Ok, just send us the statement. Soon. Ish. Soon as you can.”

“Ok. Bye.” He hangs up before Zeke even replies.

“Come here,” Theo says again, and Seamus brings his limp fingers to his lips.

“There's no room. When we get home,” he says, and Theo’s big brown eyes soften. Silently begging. “I know. There's no room. And I feel like it's probably against the rules.”

Theo snorts softly.

“There's no rules. I'm famous,” he says, and Seamus laughs again. He's glad he's at least feeling well enough to make jokes. “Just-” He cuts himself off, swallowing hard and wincing, “Just unplug some shit. I don't care.” His voice is growing more wavering and desperate.

“Soon. I promise. How are you feeling?”

Theo shifts in bed.

“Not very good,” he says after a long silence, almost whispering. “It's like… It hurts. Less, but more at the same time.”

Seamus nods like it makes sense, even though he's not sure what he means.

“And I think I might still have a fever,” he mumbles, and Seamus bites his lip. It's glaringly obvious. He lays his palm on Theo’s forehead, even though he already knows. He hums.

“Yeah. Definitely.” It's not quite as bad as it was this morning, but still probably around 102 if Seamus had to guess. “They…” He trails off, reconsidering whether he wants to tell him. “They said it could be a few days before it breaks.”

Theo's mouth tightens.

“Days?” he finally asks. Seamus's heart breaks for the thousandth time. He just nods, and Theo screws his eyes shut. “No. No, I can't…”

“It's gonna be fine. We’ll just lay around and drink tea for a few days. I'll let you wear all my clothes, you can pick what we have for dinner-” Theo shakes his head. “No, it’ll be ok. It will.”

[scoops404]

Last thing for tonight because I have to go beta Smitten's GNF onlyfans fic so we can all read it:

I made a quick list of things I'll need to research a bit more just to make sure I'm not totally scientifically wrong (very possible). This looks like I'll just need a quick google:

NICU stays How early can a baby be born and be okay How long would they have to stay What long term health problems would they have Would they need a paternity test for Dream to be on the birth certificate or is george’s word enough? Gut says it’s enough

For medical stuff like this, i'll likely ask a few fandom friends. My mom is also someone who works with babies (and often with premies) so I'll ask her too. Won't be the weirdest question I've ask her for writing purposes. Use your resources! People love helping and they love feeling like they're part of something, so don't be afraid to ask people quesitons.

And now, I've written a bit more, so I'll include that. This is much sloppier and definitely subject to change, but here you go. TW for medical stuff (but not explicit)

~ ~ ~

The stomach ache never gets better. George spends the next hour lying flat on his bed with the lights off, wondering if he’s going to die.

Like, not to be dramatic or anything, but his stomach hurts so bad. The cramping is getting worse, not better, and he’s half tempted to text Dream to bring him a hot water bottle or something. He’s not even sure if they have what he needs, but something hot that he can press against his stomach.

It takes ten minutes to muster up enough energy to try to walk back to the bathroom to attempt to pass this huge shit.

On the toilet, he lets his TikTok run without his eyes really taking anything in. He just needs sounds, movement, anything to keep his mind occupied and off of this pain, but it’s not working.

A Mr. Beast ad for Feastables comes up—and George feels like someone’s stabbing him in the stomach. His last thought before he falls forward is that he’s going to blame Mr. Beast entirely for whatever it is that kills him.

He wakes up briefly, in flashes: there’s Sapnap shaking him, a timbre in his voice that George has never heard before, shoes George doesn’t recognize belonging to a man and a woman in uniforms that he also doesn’t recognize, questions he can’t answer, a whole party of people in his bathroom and his ass is cold.

It’s so cliche. It’s so unbelievably cliche, but George wakes to a beeping machine. His eyelids are too heavy to open at first, like some strong force is pressing down on them, fighting back. And George has never really been a fighter, so he lets them win.

He goes back to sleep.

The next time he wakes, it’s instantaneous.

Before he even opens his eyes he knows the world has shifted. He can’t put his finger on it, but he knows he’s in an After.

He’s been in many Afters in his life: After he met Dream, After they blew up, After he got the visa, After he fucked Dream…. He knows an After when he’s in it.

This is definitely an After.

When he takes stock of himself, he can feel something weighing on his hand. Curious, he slyly opens his eyes just enough to see, but so that they’d look closed if anyone was looking at him.

It’s a different hand.

He knows that hand. Those rings. Those veins. The finger lengths.

That’s Dream’s hand.

Something’s wrong. The feeling crawls higher and higher up his neck until it’s lodged in his throat and he can barely breathe.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dream says, voice soft. His eyes are watery in a way that alarms George even more. Something is wrong! His body and mind are screaming it.

“What—” his voice breaks when he tries to speak. Dream sits up straighter, his shoulders relaxing. “You never call me sweet heart.” Not unless something terrible has happened. Not since the visa got denied. That’s the one and only time Dream sincerely and genuinely called him sweetheart and then they both cried for hours together. “What happened?”

Wasn’t Dream in LA? How did he—

“What are you doing here?” George asks when Dream pushes a button to call the nurse. He doesn’t want to talk to a nurse, though. He wants to talk to Dream.

More tomorrow!!!

Feel free to ask questions, I mean it! Teacher Scoops is on duty (I am no a teacher, for the record)

Writing a Scoops Fic

With Scoops. Featuring: Scoops.

This will get long, so it's under the cut. And it will contain spoilers for the fic, which kinda seem obvious, but alas.

Lol okay, when an initial idea hits me, I usually send it out into the universe to see if it's a good idea (sometimes in private DMs and sometimes I'll tweet it). This idea struck me yesterday when I was watching my niece and nephew and my dad off-handedly mentioned the show "I didn't know I was pregnant" (i'm staying with my parents while my apartment is being renovated and I'm slowly dying)

Here's the idea:

I tweeted this idea out to my private twitter at 5:22pm yesterday and then all my friends slowly exploded. The more I think about it, the more i think Mario anon might have done something similar (they've covered pretty much all the mpreg tropes but are usually sfw and established relationship). So, to make this idea my own, it'll be nsfw (hi, hello, it's me. And that's like the super fun part about writing this idea) and not established relationship - friends with benefits immediately makes this situation even more complicated. I'm in.

There's no time or energy to write last night so I stewed on the idea and when I got to work this morning I made myself focus on my novel writing (that should be the priority but im currently stuck). And wrote some then. But for on my lunch break, I thought, why not? Let's see what comes out. I talked with my friends at work for like thirty minutes and then wrote 828 words. I'm going to share all of those words with you at the end. This is very vulnerable for me because I'm purposefully not going to clean them up or edit, just show you what I've raw dogged. ((to be fair, though, i think the opening line is like banging))

Then, on my drive home, I thought about it more and more and most of the plot materialized in my head. As of now, I can picture two scenes really clearly, and that's enough to build a long fic or even a long one shot out of. (I also did this with There's Hope Out the Window)

The first scene is the one you're about to read. The second scene is George waking up in the hospital with Dream next to him, calmly explaining he had to have emergency surgery, and their baby is too little and might not make it. Lots of Drama. The idea of one of those fireplace blowy things that looks like an accordion came to me and George feeling like someone used one of those and blew love into him until he was sick with it -- that's how much he immediately loves his baby. It's a boy. He has to stay in NICU for weeks and the drama will unfold from there.

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE SUN WILL RISE (part 3)

A/N: okay so i originally wanted this part to be longer, but i replanned the timeline and i thought it's better to end it here so i hope you guys don't mind this part is shorter than the prev ones!

PAIRING: College!Long-hair!Harry X Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

It’s no surprise you don’t sleep much through the night. You keep thinking about the things Harry said and didn’t say and what he could possibly want to say. It’s like a constant itch in your brain that doesn’t leave you alone, bugging you every waking moment. 

You’re up early compared to how late you went to bed, you just can’t pretend to be resting any longer so you give up and start the day. 

By the time you hear Harry’s door open, you have his coffee ready and some french toasts for breakfast, knowing he will probably be hungry after drinking the night away. You’re perched up on a stoop by the kitchen island, textbook lying open in front of you when Harry’s footsteps echo down the hallway and a few moments later he appears, rubbing his eyes while yawning.

“Morning,” you greet him, ignoring the disappointment you feel when you see that he has put on clothes and he is not just in his underwear like you put him to bed last night.

“Is it really morning?” he questions with a frown and you can’t help but laugh. “Are you always studying? Every time I see you, you have a textbook open in front of you,” he comments as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and starts chugging it down.

“I study law, that needs a lot of time and energy,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I know, but I know other people who study law and they don’t always study.”

“Well… It happens when you’re not good at it,” you add, chewing on your bottom lip, avoiding looking at him. 

“Mm, I highly doubt that. But if it’s true, then why would you study it?” He joins you at the kitchen island while you keep staring at your book, though no word you read actually reaches your brain.

“Because it’s what was expected from me,” you answer quietly, nervously fidgeting with your pen. 

Harry stays quiet and you wish you could hear his thoughts, but he doesn’t speak them so they remain a mystery to you. 

“I made you coffee,” you nod towards the mug waiting for him on the counter.

“Oh! Thank you, you shouldn’t have,” he smiles, taking the drink. 

“Thought you might want something to bring you back after last night,” you chuckle, dropping your pen and finally daring to look at him.

“Yeah, about last night,” he clears his throat, turning his body to face you. “I’m sorry for getting so drunk that you had to bring me home. I don’t know what has gotten into me,” he sighs, clearly disappointed in himself. “I don’t usually drink this much, I just… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it happens,” you reassure him. “Do you… what do you remember from last night?” you ask what’s been bugging you all night. He was drunk and whatever happened, you knew there was a chance he wouldn’t remember. 

“Uh, not much,” he admits with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “I remember we took an Uber… Then I took a shower and basically woke up in my bed. Did you have to put me to bed?”

“Well, you kind of fell asleep sitting on the toilet, so I helped you a bit,” you nod, disappointed that according to this he doesn’t remember the major happenings. Like how he held your face or what he wanted to tell you before he fell asleep. 

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighs, shaking his head. 

“It’s fine,” you chuckle.

“Was I butt naked too?” he asks, horror taking over his expression.

“No, you managed to put on your underwear. Great job,” you grin.

“Thank God,” he laughs, his head falling backwards. 

You settle in a peaceful silence, but you can feel that something hanging between the two of you and it’s telling you that Harry remembers more from last night than what he lets you know. You’re aching to ask him more, but even just sitting in the kitchen with him, having a laugh is such a huge growth from where you were when he moved in, you wouldn’t want to ruin it.

“Y/N?” he breaks the silence and you look at him with anticipation.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure,” you breathe out with a nod.

“Can we… Can we just start over? Without any questions? Like we are meeting for the first time.”

His request stuns you, especially because you can read between the lines, but it’s just making you even more curious. With this he acknowledged the way he acted towards you in the past and he wants to move on and never talk about it, but you have so many questions. You’ve been dying to know what you did to earn his hatred before and he is taking away your chance to get your answers.

However you don’t want to corrupt what’s been forming between the two of you. You want to get on his good side since you’re living together and you’re also planning to pretend to be dating. Your answers are not your priority in this situation.

“I would love that,” you tell him at last and it seems like he’s been holding his breath, waiting for you to say something.

“Okay. Great, thank you!” he nods with a genuinely relieved smile. “So… Um, hi, I’m Harry, nice to meet you,” he holds out his hand for you. Chuckling, you take it and give it a little squeeze.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you too and I’m so glad we are going to be roommates and also fake boyfriend and girlfriend at your sister’s wedding!” 

“What an odd first meeting!” you comment, making you both laugh. 

October starts peacefully and you spend most of your time in the library as the temperature starts to drop and Halloween decorations appear everywhere you go. The campus looks the most amazing in the fall in your opinion. All the oranges and browns and yellows go so well with the old brick buildings, giving the whole university that bit of a dark academy vibe.

Living with Harry has taken a turn since the night he got drunk and he asked to start over in the morning. There’s no more grumpy, unfriendly Harry, he treats you just like everyone else in the group. Like you’re real friends.

That’s all you wanted from the beginning and though you still have no idea what happened at the start, you’re glad you got to this point. 

You’ve been spending time together even without your friends. Harry has been joining you on your grocery trips on Sundays and you always pair up when you meet your friends or go home after a gathering. You even watched a few movies together, so things have definitely been friendly between the two of you.

Your dad’s request to bring him home for Christmas has been hovering above your head though, you still haven’t mentioned it to Harry and even now that you’re on good terms, you still can’t find it in you to ask him to do it. A while ago you started to think about excuses you can tell your dad why he is not coming, though you know damn well there’s nothing you can say that would save you from his disappointment. 

You’ve been keeping in touch with your sister, but mostly about wedding things. You never really hated Alice, it was always the pressure from your parents that poisoned the possible good relationship between the two of you. But you try your best to see her as Alice, your sister, rather than the person your parents want you to become.

In the middle of October the weather starts to cool down rapidly. It’s been such a pain in the ass every year to decide when to start wearing more layers or just a sweater will be enough when you leave the house. 

On a Wednesday afternoon you go out to the Fall Fest that’s held not far from the campus with your usual group of friends. It seemed sunny when you were getting dressed earlier, but now that you’re strolling between the parlors you realize that the thin sweater you chose to wear gives you zero protection against the cold wind.

Your group stops at a picnic table since some of the guys have gotten themselves food so they can eat in peace. Harry is sitting on your right and Vivian is on your left, occasionally stealing some fries from Tanner’s plate after she told him she wasn’t hungry. If you have to guess Tanner got himself a larger size than he originally wanted, just so Viv can have some too.

She is telling you about her Thanksgiving plans and you listen with a pang of jealousy, because it’s been so long since you had a nice Thanksgiving, maybe it never even happened. Ever since you started college you’ve been ditching Thanksgiving, not in the mood to see your family so close to Christmas, you limit your visits to the minimum. You always tell them you need to study, this might be the only excuse your dad accepts, he likes it that you take school seriously.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep your body’s warmth, but you’re getting colder.

“You didn’t bring a coat?” Harry asks, when Vivian turns to Tanner to ask for more fries.

“Uh, no. I’m really bad at figuring out when I need to start dressing warmer,” you admit. Unlike you, Harry is dressed in a black hoodie and he even has a denim jacket over it.

Viv turns back and asks you about that paper you struggled to write last week and you don’t even notice it when Harry disappears from next to you. When he returns, he places two cups of hot tea to the table, one for you, one for him and before he takes his previous place he shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Wait, you’ll be cold,” you protest, but he brushes your hands away from the jacket, sitting back next to you.

“I’m fine and I’ve got the hot tea. Just keep the jacket on and next time dress better,” he chuckles, pushing your cup closer to you.

“Thank you,” you smile at him gratefully. 

Across the table you catch Iris eyeing you with suspicion and you just give her a questioning look, though you can feel your cheeks heating up from Harry’s gesture. It’s been incredibly hard to keep your growing crush at check. When Harry was an ass you could easily put your attraction towards him aside, but now that you spend so much time with him and he is actually nice to you, it’s pairing up with his incredible looks and you’re not immune to his charm anymore.

You get to keep Harry’s jacket on for the rest of the afternoon, he doesn’t seem to miss it, but it’s such a help for you and you also get to smell his cologne on you that you find so intoxicating and now it’s following you everywhere.

When the group part ways you and Harry head home together. It’s almost past seven, so the temperature has dropped even more, now you really wish you dressed warmer. 

“Another tea?” Harry offers when you finally make it inside the warm apartment.

“Yes please,” you nod, peeling his jacket off and hanging it in the closet in the hallway. You quickly change into some more comfortable clothes and when you return your tea is waiting for you along with some pills on the counter.

“What are these?” you ask, climbing onto one of the stools.

“Vitamins. I bet you were freezing today, so you should take some in case you’ve gotten a cold,” he answers, taking a sip from his own drink.

“I wasn’t that cold,” you scoff and take the vitamins anyway.

Well, you were wrong.

By the time you go to bed later on you can already feel your throat getting sore and your nose starts to block, but you just pray it won’t get any worse.

It does.

The night is torture as you get worse with every passing hour and at one point you get burnt up with a fever as well. Your head starts throbbing and your eyes feel like they are about to melt out of your skull. It becomes clear to you that you will not be going to any of your classes the next day. The sun rises and you feel like you’re on your deathbed that’s also on fire. You drift in and out of sleep and lose track of time, so when your door opens and your eyes snap open you have no idea what time it is.

Harry’s head pops in before the rest of his body appears as he walks into the room.

“Hey, everything alright? You’re usually up by now,” he asks, standing at the door, staring at you with concern all over his face.

“The vitamins did not work,” you groan, it feels like your throat has been rubbed by sandpaper and your fever hasn’t eased since the middle of the night.

Harry leaves his spot by the door and walks up to the bed, sitting on the edge before he places a hand to your forehead softly. His touch feels like ice on your burning skin and his eyes widen at how much you’re burning up.

Without a word he disappears from the room, you faintly hear him shuffle around somewhere outside and then he returns, both his hands full and you just let him do whatever he wants to.

He takes your temperature, makes you take some more pills and he also places a huge mug of hot tea on your nightstand. 

“What hurts?” he softly asks, wiping your face with a damp washcloth.

“My throat and head,” you croak out.

“Alright. Do you have any medicine you usually take when you get sick?”

“Not really,” you hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. 

“Okay. Get some sleep, I’ll be back soon,” you hear him say but you can only nod, eyes already closed. 

With the last thread of your consciousness you take his words as in, he leaves for class and then he’ll check in on you soon. But you wake when you hear the front door open and close and you reach for your phone, seeing that it’s only ten am, meaning that Harry is missing his own class.

Forcing yourself out of the bed you pull a hoodie over your head and slowly make your way out of the room, just to find Harry in the kitchen, unpacking two grocery bags.

“You have class, Harry,” you croak out. His head snaps up and spots you shuffling over to him.

“Hey, you should be in bed. Go back, I’m gonna bring you some medicine and I’m making you soup.”

“Soup?” you let out a tired laugh. “You can make soup?”

“I don’t know, but I already texted my mum so she’ll help me over FaceTime.”

All of a sudden, breathing feels like a hard task, but it’s not because of your blocked nose. Harry is skipping class to take care of you and he asked his mom for help even. This is probably the most anyone has ever done for you. If only you weren’t fighting to stay standing on your feet, you’d probably give him the biggest hug ever.

He forces you to go back to bed and soon he brings you some more tea and vitamins as he takes your temperature again.

“It’s still pretty high. You should take something,” he hums and a minute later he is giving you another pill.

You take everything and anything he gives you, trusting him with knowing what you need. Soon you fall asleep again and it’s sometime in the noon when you wake up again. You drink up the rest of the tea in your mug and head out to the bathroom, but you realize that you’re not alone. Harry is still at home, in his room, his door left wide open so he catches you walking past right away. You quickly do your business and then stop at his room on your way back. 

“Hey,” he looks up from his book. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m dying,” you admit with a tired chuckle.

“Soup is ready, why don’t you eat some?” he offers, standing from his desk and you just nod.

He walks you out, a hand on your lower back and your heated skin tingles under his soft touch. He makes you sit at the kitchen island as he heats the soup up a bit before serving you a plate.

“If you absolutely hate it you don’t have to eat it, I can just go out and buy something for you,” he chuckles as he watches you blow on a spoonful of the soup.

It tastes good. Not the best you’ve had, but it’s tasty and the warm liquid caresses your sore throat as you swallow it.

“Tastes good,” you smile at him, slowly spooning more of it into your mouth. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when he reaches over and smoothes his hand over your forehead to check your temperature, then he brushes his knuckles down the side of your face and you can’t tell if it’s your fever or his touch that’s burning you up.

“You shouldn’t have skipped class,” you clear your throat when you finish eating.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and taking the plate he brings it to the sink and washes it for you. “I didn’t want to leave you alone in case something happens.”

“That’s… very nice of you.” That’s all you manage to get out. You’re not used to being taken care of, it’s always been just you and yourself.

You spend the rest of the afternoon in bed, mostly sleeping, for a while it feels like you’re getting better, but then your temperature starts to rise again as the evening comes around, probably the medicine you took has worn out of your system so your fever is spiking again.

“Fuck,” you whine out when you wake again and you feel yourself drenched in your own sweat. As if it was his queue, you hear Harry’s footsteps in the hallway right away and a moment later there’s a soft knock on your door before it opens and he pops his head inside.

“Everything alright?” he asks as you’re sitting up in bed.

“I think my fever is back,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know you look awful. You’ve been in bed for an entire day now, your hair must be a mess and he has to see the discomfort on your face. If you weren’t burning up, you’d worry about Harry seeing you like this, but right now you have other things that keep you busy. 

“I’ll get you some more medicine, why don’t you take a cold shower in the meanwhile?” he suggests and stepping closer he helps you up from the bed, since it’s a hard task too with all your energy gone. 

It feels like running a marathon, just to get in the shower, but you somehow manage. When you get out from the cold shower you realize you didn’t bring any clothes in.

“Harry?” you call out, wrapping the towel around yourself.

“Yes?” you hear his answer coming from the other side of the door.

“Can you bring me some clothes? I forgot to bring any,” you breathe out.

“Sure.”

You hear him shuffle around in your room and then there’s a soft knock on the door.

“You can come in,” you say and then he walks in, finding you sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, wrapped in your fluffy towel, your hair dripping wet.

“Feeling any better?” he asks, setting down a pile of clothes next to the sink. 

“A tiny bit,” you hum.

Nodding he kneels in front of you and without even asking if you need any help, he starts dressing you. He pulls the shirt over your head and over the towel, then assists with the pajama pants too before turning away for a second so you can get rid of the towel and fix your fit.

“Alright, come on, let’s get you back into bed.” His hand returns to the small of your back again as he walks you back into your bedroom where you realize he even changed your sheets. 

You could cry from the effort he has put into taking care of you, but all you can think of is to fall into those fresh sheets and sleep until you feel better. He gives you some medicine, you chug a glass of water and then you’re out cold again. 

You have no idea how long you were sleeping, but when you wake up it’s bright outside and you feel a lot better. Your fever is more or less gone, your throat is still sore, but definitely not as much as yesterday and your headache has finally vanished. It’s like you’ve come back from the dead.

All thanks to Harry.

WHen you wander out of your room you find him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee and his head snaps up at your arrival and when he sees your more lively version approaching him, a smile stretches across his face.

“Hey! How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you sigh. “My nose is still running and I’m not totally okay, but I think my fever is gone.”

“That’s good. But you should still rest, take it easy.”

“Thank you, doctor Styles,” you tease him as you make yourself some oatmeal quickly.

“If I were a doctor I wouldn’t be sitting here,” he chuckles. “Will you be fine on your own today?”

“Yeah, I’ll just have a movie marathon or something. Enjoy another day off from classes.”

“Okay, but text me if you need anything. I could bring us something for dinner and we could watch something together, how does that sound?” he offers.

“It’s Friday, aren’t you going somewhere? I bet you have better plans than having takeaway with me at home.”

“No,” he simply answers before chugging down the rest of his coffee.

Harry leaves not long after and you go back to bed for a bit, resting while catching up on some reading so you can quiet down your guilt about missing school. He was kind enough to put the leftover soup into the fridge for you, so you don’t have to make lunch for yourself. Sometime in the afternoon you take a shower, put some clothes on that are not pajamas and move yourself out into the livingroom to watch some Netflix. 

Your favorite roommate returns home a little bit after five with bags from your favorite Chinese place and a bright smile on his face.

“Hello, how is the patient feeling?” he asks, setting down the bags on the coffee table

“A lot better. It’s just my nose now,” you frown. Your throat is now fine and you haven’t had a fever all day.

“Good,” he nods, pleased with your words. “I hope you’re hungry, because it’s all fresh and still warm.”

“Oh, I could definitely eat,” you chuckle. His soup was good, but you’re aching for something more solid.

“What are we watching?” he asks, nodding towards the screen where you have a show stopped.

“Um, it’s just a documentary I started. We can watch something else if you–”

“I like those,” he assures you with a charming smile as he hands you a foodbox. “Which one is it?”

“Nightcrawler.”

“Haven’t seen that. What did I miss so far?” he asks, joining you on the couch.

“We can just start again, I’m only two episodes into it.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” you say and you’d do just about anything for him after these past days. This is the least you can do to thank him for taking good care of you. 

You eat and watch the documentary in silence, but it’s not at all awkward, you sometimes discuss something about the case, whenever they find something new and when the series ends you just randomly start another one.

Then your phone rings. It’s Alice.

“Hey,” you answer the call.

“Hi, I know it’s a short notice, but I’m about thirty minutes away from your place. Can I spend the night at yours?” she asks and you can hear it clearly that she is in her car. “I met with a photographer and I have a meeting with another one too, so I thought I would just crash at your place.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up alerted, Harry staring at you with a questioning look.

“Uh, you wanna stay here?” you ask.

“Yes, unless your guest bedroom is taken.”

You can’t tell her that Harry lives there, it would be weird if your boyfriend were living in a different bedroom.

“N-No, it’s free. What did you say, when are you arriving?” you ask in panic.

“In about thirty. Thank you, sis, you’re saving my life. See you soon,” and with that, she ends the call.

“Oh fuck,” you jump up from the bed. 

“What, what is it?”

“My sister. She is on her way here and she wants to spend the night.”

You can tell it takes him a few moments to realize what this means, his eyes widen as his mouth hangs agape.

“O-oh! And what… What are we gonna do?”

“You need to move some of your stuff to my room so she can stay there without realizing that’s where you live. You do that, I’m gonna change the sheets for her and… we’re just gonna have to wing it.”

“So we’re gonna pretend to be together?”

“We have to, you can’t move out in thirty minutes, so the only narrative that can work now is that we are together and we also live together.”

There’s a pause that lasts for a few heartbeats and you fear he’ll say no and leave you alone in the mess, but then he finally nods and stands from the couch.

“Alright. Then we are doing this.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[kirsteinsjoy]

hush now. // jean kirstein

synopsis ~ your body is aching for jean's touch, but quiet now, don't let your sleeping friends hear.

cw ~ cockwarming, teasing, drooling, exhibitionism, modern au, degradation, riding, cumming inside, slight dacryphillia

pairing ~ dom! jean x sub! fem bodied reader

"can you guys be quiet? the movie is starting,"

"hey, my popcorn is gonna fall, Connie move!"

"no this spot is comfortable. your popcorn can sit somewhere else."

"okay guys it's starting shhh,"

you giggled as your boyfriend quietened your friends' bickering. everyone settled down under the warm blankets on Connie's sofa, paying attention to the flashing images infront of their eyes.

it had been quite a while since all four of you had a sleepover, but finally, you guys had settled for tonight to relax together and have fun.

with the blaring of the movie sounds and Sasha's crunching of popcorn in the background, you were starting to fall asleep. your head lay in the crook of Jean's warm neck, and your legs were on his right side.

as your eyes began to droop, you felt long fingers running up and down your thighs. you tried not to take notice of it but as those fingers neared the inners of your thighs, you couldn't help but shift in his lap, causing friction between your ass and his crotch.

his thumb started to rub circles, making you slightly whimper from the sensation. you could feel your core dampening by his slight touches, and his low chuckles as you did so didnt help.

Jean slid you off his lap for a moment, making you shiver from the sudden cool air hitting your skin, but pulled you back onto it.

oh my god.

the tip of his dick rubbed against your clit, sending your body into an immediate state of arousal. he cocked his head to the side slightly, asking for consent and you nodded. Jean pushed your face into his shoulder, pushing you down slowly onto his cock.

you understood why he did that, because you bit down onto him as he went inside you inch by inch. your walls wrapped around his cock perfectly, causing a breathy whine to leave your lips.

you tried to buck your hips, but the strong grip on your hips stopped you. your face twisted into an expression of confusion and desperation as he smirked.

"not so fast baby, i'll tell you when you can move," he whispered into your heated ears. it turned him on terribly to see you unable to do anything in such a situation, especially as you're filled with his dick under the blankets without anyone's knowledge of it.

After 10 minutes or so, Jean's head turned to the side that Connie and Sasha were sitting at.

fast asleep. their heads lay on top of eachother as they snored quietly, in deep sleep.

"can we-" you sentence was stopped by a loud moan that resulted in a hand being clapped over your mouth. Jean suddenly bucked his hips up into you, his dick penetrating deep into you.

"goodness me love, so loud aren't we?" he said smugly, his fingers sneaking underneath your top. "hush now, we don't to wake up our friends with your moans, be a good girl and stay quiet for me, yes?

he looked upto you. those hazels eyes may seem pleading, but you could see through them, see through to the lust and filth that he tried to hide.

"y-yes." you could feel your cheeks heating up from the embarrasment of doing such erotic things with the risk of getting caught, but it also aroused you more.

your hips started to roll onto his lap, feeling the shape of his cock against your walls. his hands fell to you ass, helping you along his lap. the adrenaline mixed with incitement felt so amazing.

"aah, it feels so good," you moaned, starting to bounce on his dick.

he threw his head back, groaning at how good you felt around him.

"god look at you, riding my dick when you could get caught in any moment," his fingers grabbed your chin, pulling your face closer to his. "are you that much of a whore for my cock, mm?"

"well?" he cocked his head to the side.

"y-yes, i love how good you make me feel!" you struggled to get words out from the overwhelming pleasure your body was feeling.

"fuck," he thrusted his hips up into you. the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans echoed throughout the room.

suddenly, you hear rustling from under the covers. Jean caught onto this, pressing his throbbing cock into you deeper as you tried to muffle your moans by your hand, only for the rustling to stop.

"you're such a mess right now. tears streaming down your face, your mouth dripping with saliva, yet you can't seem to stop getting yourself off on me even when you nearly got caught?"

his words were drilled into your brain as you arched your back at your incoming orgasm. he got ahold of your hair as he came with you, thick ropes of cum streaming down from your insides, smearing onto your pussy.

all that could be heard was both of your tired, relieved breaths.

"my good girl," he breathed, pulling your head into his chest.

your fucked-out body lay limp against his, but you left a small kiss on his neck with your remaining energy and immediately fell asleep.

[niksfics]

↬ WHAT COULD NEVER BE

↬ PAIRINGS: bokuto x f!reader? (Side) atsumu x f!reader

↬ WARNINGS: nothing really. Just some heart wrenching angst, bokuto is careless with your heart I guess

↬ SUMMARY: you fell in love with your bestfriend but your bestfriend has never felt that way about you.

↬ A/N: I totally did not cry while writing this pft

↬ WC: | 1.7K |

My first year at Fukurodani had been lonely to say the least. I had been new to the area wheras everyone else had gone to middle school together, and I'd been the odd one out. The cliques had already formed leaving me to fend for myself.

My second year though I'd seen a flyer for the boys volleyball team needing a new manager. I signed my name against my better judgement and hoped for the best. When I'd shown up to the first practice game after a talk with the coach, I had realized signing that flyer was the best decision I'd ever made.

Bokuto Kotaro a second year -at the time- like myself was just a ball of energy. He was an honest to god enigma. Being around him was just intoxicating, a rollercoaster you never wanted off of. We got along fairly quickly and him and the rest of the boys had made my second year a little less lonely.

In my third year I was always greeted in the halls, by my fellow classmates who'd known me because of Bo. When he'd learned that I was basically friendless in my second year he'd gone around and introduced me to just about everyone he knew. Eyes shining with love and happiness. That was the third time my heart had skipped a beat because of him.

By the time I realized the butterflies in my stomach increased as the months went by in my eventful second year, the more I realized I was falling in love with my best friend. My heart thumping against my rib cage every time he'd look at me. My skin lighting on fire as his skin brushed against mine. My breath catching in my throat whenever he'd look at me a certain way, or whenever he leaned down to whisper something in my ear. He made me feel breathless and I could never get tired of it.

The day I realized my bestfriend, Bokuto Kotaro, just might not be in love with me as well was the day I'd stayed late after practice to put some of the equipment in the storage closet. I'd been proudly wearing his jacket. It swallowing my body because that's just how big he was. He'd rounded the corner into the closet and smiled at me sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Y/n, I was wondering," he'd paused and my heart beat against my chest almost as if it was gonna burst right through my skin. The breathless feeling coming back and I felt myself starting to smile until he'd finished his sentence, "well uhm... I was wondering if I could have my jacket back, Koyuki is cold and I don't want her to freeze," my smile dropped in an instant. The way he'd said her name, it was.. well it was different than whenever he said anybody else's name. "Oh yeah sure Bo, lemme just put this stuff down really fast," I'd turned from him nose stinging from the tears welling up in my eyes, and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat down. Suppressing every single emotion in my body.

I'd handed him his stupid jacket back and slammed the door closed as I watched him drape it over her shoulders and she smiled brightly at him.

I should have known then. Known that he was falling head over heels for akaashi's twin sister, because when bokuto falls in love it's not quiet, its loud and powerful and passionate and it'll swallow you up if you let it.

Koyuki akaashi did just that. Let his love consume her like the raging fire it was. They were a beautiful couple. A match made in heaven.

She was beautiful and confident. His personal little cheerleader. She was undoubtedly the most wanted girl at our school. She was perfect for him. I knew that. I felt it, and I tried my damn hardest to be so happy for him. To love him differently. The way he loved me. Platonically. I watched them fall in love.

Watched him kiss her with a passion I only dreamt of feeling from him. They held looks of love whenever they looked at the other. The hardest part though. The hardest part was she was the kindest, sweetest girl you'd ever meet. A heather. No hidden agenda. Nothing like those girlfriends in the cliche best friends to lovers trope books. She welcomed me as a friend and fully supported me as bokutos bestfriend. She was impossible to hate, and how could I hate her when she was the reason my best friend smiled the way he did. The reason his breath caught in his throat just the way mine did.

When we graduated and I'd become a cheerleader for the MSBY Black Jackals, because I'd promise Bo to not leave his side. Promised I'd followed him to the ends of the earth. We were y/n and bokuto. We came in a pair. It was hard. Hard being around him when he'd talk about Koyuki and how he couldn't wait to feel her again and how it was so hard being away from the person you love more than anything, and then he'd say "you know?" With his puppy eyes, and I'd just shrug and agree.

The way I'd wished and hoped that it wouldn't last. That somewhere in bokutos head he'd realize she wasn't the one. That they'd get in a fight too big to cool down from. The more I'd wished that the more I felt guilty. Why would I wanna ruin my bestfriends happiness? Why would I wish that to go away?

So when shoyo hinata asked me on a date, I'd excitedly agreed. Finally I could, maybe, forget about the big himbo I'd fallen for. No. In fact that made it worse. I found myself comparing hinata to bokuto. The way hinata walked, the way hinata talked, the way Hinata's touch didn't make my skin burn up quite like bokutos did. Me and hinata didn't last. It was a disease, and I was dying. Being eaten from the inside out. My very heart collapsing in on it self, and when he'd proposed to her. God, the way I cried. The way I ached. The way my chest clenched and the tears finally fell.

"Y/n, what's wrong?! What did I do?" He asked desperately grabbing my wrist as I'd gasped and tried to turn.

"Nothing Bo, I'm so happy for you!! These are happy tears Ko!"

He smiled big and bright. Bokuto wasn't dense. He was more aware of anyone's feelings than he was of his own. Either he saw the pain in my eyes that night and ignored it, or he saw it and in fear of our friendship crumbling right in our hands that night swallowed down what he'd wanted to say. It was the latter.

The day of the wedding finally came. Here I stood, next to my favorite boy. Waiting at the end of the aisle for a girl who was not me. My bestfriend, the boy.. no man I'm in love with. Tearing up as is his wife to be walked closer towards him.

Tears gathered in my eyes and I forced a smile as they fell down my face. Atsumu tapped my shoulder. I turned and he'd held open his arms. I'd buried myself in the tight embrace of the setter who knew. Who knew the story. Who'd held me as I cried many times. Times just like this one. He kisses the the top of my head and I turn back around catching the eyes of bokuto.

After the ceremony everyone had gathered at a venue for the reception. I walked away from the laughter. The buzz of the party and the cheers as the groom dipped the bride and kissed her.

Unfortunately for me, he'd soon noticed my absence and come to find me. "Y/n" he whispered hand closing over my elbow, and a warm, salty tear rolled down my cheek and stopped at the corner of my lip.

I turned away from the salty water washing over my feet, and my toes dug in the sand. "Don't touch me" I tried my hardest to sound determined, but my voice cracked.

"What was it? What does she have that I don't Ko?" I asked. Desperate. Reaching for anything. Grasping at straws.

That's when I looked at him, and his eyes said it all. He was never very good at hiding his emotions. His eyes always gave him away, and he'd known. He knew the whole time. I knew that now.

Lovely Bokuto Kotaro had known all along.

He was quiet for a minute. "You have everything that she has and more." He said what he felt and bokuto never lied. He hates lies I knew that.

"Then why not me? I know you knew. You knew the minute we were sitting in that boba shop and you looked at me staring at your hands interlocked. I know you realised. Then and there." I pulled my elbow away from his hand.

"I love you y/n, just not in the way I love koyuki," he says it so casually as if he'd just told me he'd left my purse on the counter. Not tenderly. Not carefully.

My eyes closed collecting myself, "don't you think I know that Bokuto? Don't you think I've cried over that every night for years? I know you do, and God it's so fucking hard to be happy, and bite my tongue. To swallow down the word vomit, because I love you so fucking much, kotaro. I've loved you since the middle of our second year, but now you've gotta let me go. Leave me behind." I turned back facing him again.

"Please don't ask that of me, you know I can't do that. That'll kill me sweets-" I stopped him and turned to glare at him, "you can't fucking call me that anymore. That's a pet name for lovers, not for a man who is married to use on his bestfriend."

You could hear someone walking towards you guys, "y/n?" You knew that voice. "I'm here tsumu," you sighed. Moving around bokuto and walking closer to the setter. "Just... just.. enjoy you're honeymoon Bokuto, and please let me move on and heal. Congratulations on your marriage"

You smiled softly at him kissing bokuto on the cheek as you took the hand of the blonde. Atsumu smiled down at you, heart beating faster just like yours did the day you made eye contact with bokuto for the very first time.

[lazarettta]

Misthios II

Characters (Mother Miranda, Reader, Lady Alcina)

Word count (3.1k)

Rating (M)

Warning (little NSFW, language)

Did you really think that Miranda was going to let you leave so easily? Again?

Anything italicized is a flashback...this is part two to Misthios

Your time with the Vikings was fun but all good things had to come to an end. Over the years, you hadn't been too keen on letting too many people in on your secret. Your friends and makeshift family were getting older and you weren't. You were still fit for battle and as young and strong as you were twelve years ago. You knew that you'd overstayed your welcome but you weren't ready to leave until there were too many comments about you not aging a day. It had taken you a week to get your steed ready for long travel and to make sure that you had everything necessary, including the coin to purchase more supplies should you need it.

You weren't above doing odd jobs during your travels if needed. The viking children ran alongside you and your stallion as you both trotted out of the village until you were on an open road. You saluted them before taking off into a run following the lead of your war horse, allowing her to dictate your travels until she decided that she needed a break.

You had all of the time and opportunity in the land.

You traveled like that for a few days until you were coming upon a village but the path was winding and would take some time but you had plenty of daylight and were in no rush. Everything was peaceful until you came across an overturned wagon and nearly trampled over a body laying face down into the soft ground. The dark puddle around him did not indicate that the man would be rising soon.

You were quick to draw your bow and arrow, a good distance from the fight and you had an advantage in case any of them came for you. There was a black flag on the ground near the wagon but it held an insignia that you didn't recognize but you knew royalty when you saw it. The soldiers had the upper hand but there were a few of them dead as well. On the other side, you saw one of the bandits jump on the back of a horse to leave.

Without much of a thought, you raised your weapon of choice and not a second later, you felt the smooth wood of the arrow slip between your calloused fingers and you watched proudly as it found a home in the base of the man's spine, effectively halting his escape but leaving him alive for the time being but he was not without suffering.

It was at that same moment the last bandit was struck down. The remaining soldiers turned to you with their swords raised but before anything else could happen, a sharp and clear but decidedly feminine voice stopped the misunderstanding before it could happen.

A woman with light-colored long hair stepped from behind a large oak tree with two foot soldiers in tow. She didn't seem to care about the ends of her dress being sullied by the mud and blood on the trail as she made her way towards you. You climbed down from your horse when she was closer, not surprised that you were taller than she was but she wasn't that much shorter than you really.

Most other women you met that were your height or taller were fellow warriors. Her eyes were what really startled you, they were so clear they were almost white. They did not have a clear color to them, not one that you could see.

“You are a very long way from home, Viking.”

“Yes, in search of a new one.” you glanced over her shoulder briefly to the soldiers dealing with the one who tried to escape, his agonized yelling startling a nest of crows nearby.

“You don't seem like the type to miss a killing shot.”

Your gaze fell back to her unwavering one and you fought the urge to fidget under her stare even though you were the one towering over her. Her posture was none threatening and her smile had a teasing tilt to it, but her eyes...they pierced your soul, pinned you. You were unsure if you wanted to run from them or figure out how deep they went.

“I figured your King and Queen would want one alive to question.”

“The King has been dead for a long time now.” The woman tilted her head back slightly as if looking at you in a new light and you straightened your back and pushed your shoulders subconsciously and the corners of her pale lips curled a little more. “Have dinner with me tonight, viking, as a token of my gratitude. Those bandits have been quite a torn in my side for a very long time now. Thanks to you, maybe now I will find their leader.”

~~

The physical ache you felt when waking up was around your throat, well your whole neck. Your skin had long since healed over but it took the aches and bruises a while longer to go away. You don't know how long you've been unconscious but even without opening your eyes you knew that you were no longer outside on the side of a mountain which meant that she didn't kill you. But she still hurt you. You didn't know if she showed restraint because you both knew that killing you would be pointless and temporary or she truly didn't want to see you harm even if she was upset with you. You knew that it was the former.

Upset being the understatement.

You opened one eye then the other, wherever she put you it was warm if not a little moldy and it was definitely dark, you weren't quite sure if the torch on the other side of your cage helped any. Maybe it wasn't meant for you to use to see but to ensure that you wouldn't go completely insane in total darkness. It made more sense, you wouldn't want your prisoner to look around either lest they find something to use to escape.

You moved so that your back was against the stone wall, mildly surprised to find that it was a little damp. Your neck was still covered in dried blood but you didn't bother trying to scrape it off, knowing from experience that it wasn't the most pleasant feeling and one you chose not to deal with at the moment though you did pick away the random straws of hay from your skin as you'd been laying on it.

If you had to guess then you were in a basement, whether it was hers or not—you couldn't just sit there. Your backpack was long gone, you didn't have to look around your little cage to know that much. You checked for your gun not surprised to find that it was gone...she even took the damn holster.

You checked for your knife on your waist...gone. You checked the one that was hidden in your boots, or was supposed to be but it was gone too. Even after all this time, she knew you all too well. But even without weapons, a small cage like this wouldn't be enough to keep you. You just needed a plan but you had no idea where the hell you were. You reached up to feel your neck where you remembered her nails digging painfully into your flesh...

Gold plated armor, soft leathers and the finest silk that currency could purchase found themselves haphazardly tossed about all over the floor of the room. They reflected nicely against the small flames of the candles around the room.

The room was temporary, a small stop during your travels across the sea—this was merely a supply stop, but with the weather so severe, the waves were slaves to Poseidon's wrath. The ship was safer docked but she wouldn’t spend another night on board if she didn’t have to.

And didn’t, neither of you did. You were her personal champion—you went where she went. She pointed, and you left a path of bloody boot prints. Her wish was your command.

She laid bare before you, it wasn’t a sight that many were blessed with and no matter what sin you’ve committed at this woman’s whim (hell, even your own), you always thanked the Gods for giving you sight.

The fireplace is the only thing lighting up the entire room behind you both, you could feel the heat of it drying up your sweat but not all of it. You were straddling her, knees on either side of her waist—one hand on her waist and the other by her head, fingers interlaced with the hand that wasn’t reaching back clutching you tight, nails digging into your skin but that slight pain only fueled you.

Her light hair was out of its strict confines and complicated royal hairstyle, now splayed across her blemish free back and the pillows.

This was your reward; having her. You did exactly as she asked, you brought her the heads of those who crossed her and bathed in their blood and in the blood of their loved ones. You left no stone unturned simply because it was her wish.

And in return…you got her, however you wanted. But even trapped underneath you—she was never not in command. You placed your other hand next to her head as well, feeling her cool breath ghosting over your fingers turn sharp and unsteady when your hips snapped forward without warning. Her fingers tightening around yours. She tried to push back against you to take back some control but you met her attempt with untamed energy. Miranda's breathy chuckle tapered off into a mix of a growl and a moan when you did it again and again…

Shaking your head, you let it fall back on the hard wall behind you with your eyes closed. You've longed since buried those memories but they were fresh, as if they were made yesterday. The ache in your heart felt fresh too.

Then you felt it. No you felt her. Her presence was so strong, nearly suffocating and that feeling of dread was crawling up your spine again and you suppressed a strong shudder. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that those eyes you fell so hard for would be looking back at you—the same eyes that tore to shreds. Even after all this fucking time...

You exhaled slowly and heavy, content to just stare at your boots, “I didn't expect to find you here of all places...”

“Would you have come if you'd known that I would be here?”

You looked up and saw that her startling bright eyes were staring back at you, still just as clear as the day you first met, “Why am I in this cage and not dead in a ditch? Besides the fucking obvious.”

She didn't say anything to you for a moment, simply standing there staring at you—drinking you in, it made your skin crawl, both good and bad. If she was bothered about you blatantly ignoring her question, it didn't show—or at least that damn mask she was wearing hid it away from you. All those emotions you'd long since buried and thought you dealt with came bubbling back to the surface like bile in the back of your throat but you kept a tight rein on it. Your explosive temper never dulled over time but you got better at containing it.

But no matter how good you were with restraining yourself, Miranda always knew. You could see it in her eyes. You hated her for it.

“I felt you the moment you arrived.” she said instead after long minutes of unblinking silence, she edged closer to your cell, unconcerned with the fact that you could lunge forward at any point and grab her. “I'm relieved to find you're still alive...and in good health?”

“Either kill me and ditch me somewhere, or just let me go, Miranda. I'm not doing this with you.”

“I cannot and will not do either, (Y/n).” she responded coolly after another minute of silence, keeping your gaze now that you've given it to her, “I just got you back, I'm not going to let you leave me so soon. Not again.”

“You didn't really give me a choice the first time!” you snapped back despite what you told yourself earlier about keeping calm and breathing, but seeing Miranda now—even more beautiful than she was before? It was too much at once. “You made that decision for both of us.” you said, much more quieter but she was close enough to have heard you perfectly fine and you were finally able to look away from those burning eyes.

“You're different.”

“The world is different.”

“Time has made you soft.”

You scoffed, “Would you like to borrow some of it? I mean...what the fuck is this? Where am I?” She regarded you calmly as if she was assessing you, but her eyes were roaming too much to be a simple assessment and you just laughed, sharp and unforgiving, you couldn't help yourself, “Do you feel guilty? Did you ever?”

“I don't have time to feel guilty!” she answered a little too quickly and you saw how her shoulders shifted slightly beneath those feathers, always a tell sign of hers that you never failed to notice and honestly you were surprised that you still even remembered her tales. She was so obviously different, you both were but this dance? While off tune and tense, was still your dance.

“Right, I see.” you tried to ignore it, you really did, but a little piece of your heart fell away at her admission because there was still a small part of you that still longed for closure.

“(Y/n)...”

“Do you even remember what you're supposed to even feel guilty for?”

“Stop it! You're not being fair!” she growled at you, pressing closer against the bars—if she pushed anymore she'd probably break the damn things, or materialize right through them but that didn't stop you from scrambling to your feet to meet her head on, refusing to let her have the full advantage.

“Neither were you! I...” you stopped abruptly, literally choking on your words and you forced yourself to close your mouth and Miranda watched every single emotion drain from your face as if you had flipped a switch and her hands balled into even tighter fists at her sides, unsure what to say and you had nothing left to say.

You two stood staring at each other, once again. Eyes locked but not a word more was said. She reached up, one hand wrapping around an old iron bar, her engraved golden nails clinking softly against the metal.

“Mother Miranda.” a firm but sinewy voice echoed around you both, calling for your attention and it was feminine but you couldn't see who it belonged to. She was just out of range of the cell entrance and you'd have to move closer to Miranda to see who it belonged to—and that wasn't something you were interested in doing, “I apologize for the interruption...but we have a problem.”

“What.” Miranda hissed, her voice no longer soft and velvet—the only way you could describe it was deity like. Stronger, harsher and it would've been scarier if you didn't know the woman behind the mask.

“That fool Heisenberg let that man thing escape the forest and he's now roaming in the village.”

“I see.” Miranda's eyes fell to you again, radiating more power than they did earlier. You'd been so busy arguing with her, you hadn't heard the other woman approach and you wondered how much of that she actually overheard, “When you are ready to talk, I will be waiting for you, my little warrior.”

“Stop calling me that!” you spat, glaring at her irritatingly, “I'm not your anything...perhaps your enemy. You'd do better by just letting me leave, Miranda because you and I both know that killing me isn't an option.”

“And I already told you. I'm not letting you leave me, not again.” she was suddenly right in front of you, inside of the iron cage and you had no fucking idea how she did that but she was too close but the stone wall behind you didn't give away, no matter how hard you pressed. Her eyes were softer now, and you actually had to crane your neck a bit to see them, even at an even six feet, “Learn the truth then you decide if you wish to leave or to stay.”

“The truth?” you scoffed, well aware that you two still weren't alone, “The truth has long since past to be of any interest to me.” you lied straight through your teeth all the while looking into her eyes, you saw a speck of emotion but it was hard to tell when they were so alive, “I don't care about your truth anymore, Miranda.”

“You may not...but I do. Did our love mean nothing to you?” you both ignored the startled noise behind you, “All those late nights and early mornings? I think about them often when this life permits me to...I...do have regrets, (Y/n)...and wishes, most never granted.” she admitted, quietly—her deity voice gone for the moment, “One of my biggest regrets and my biggest wish was you, (Y/n).”

You didn't know how to unpack that in this moment because Miranda suddenly had both her hands on the wall, trapping you as she leaned closer—you knew what she was doing, hell she even knew what she was fucking doing? Was it working? Like the fool you were—it was.

“Allow me time to settle this issue and then we will talk, (Y/n).”

You could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and you almost told her to go fuck herself...it was on the tip of your tongue but your heart was still as stupid as it was thousands of years ago. You kept your lips firmly pressed together, but nodded curtly almost reluctantly. She didn't smile, not really, but that familiar curve of her lips made you tense a little. You were a fucking idiot, and you knew it.

“Lady Dimitrescu will house you. I will send for you when I am ready.” she lingered for a second longer, seeming to want to say more. Suddenly she pushed herself away from you and walking out of your cell with ease, pushing the heavy door out of her way leaving you bewildered.

Had it been unlocked this whole time? She hadn't even bothered to retrain you, but she knew you wouldn't make a move because now she had now something to keep you behaved long enough and you agreed to it.

Ayyye Alcinnaaaa! Idk who's playing but Donna's house scary as shit. Y'all fuck with this story?

[moxfirefly]

Hi!

Can I ask you to do a fic about some numbers of the 200 prompts? If it's not a problem for you... ✨🥺👉🏻👈🏻✨

Maybe 51, 110 and 144 with Donnie and a fem reader? 🥺💜✨

I imagine that he's alone with the reader and she's listening some music. They're talking and then some songs with 'hot' lyrics or with 'sex vibe start to play, u know? Like Call Out My Name (The Weeknd), Chateau (blackbear)... They like each other so they get horny and end up fucking like animals. :)))

(The + kinky the better. I'm a horny™ girl xd)

Ps: If it's too much work or something don't worry. I don't want you to do something that you don't want/can :)❤️✨

Ps 2: I love your blog ❤️

As a member of the Donnie thirst brigade I’m more than happy to just give out some shameless smut with that tall sassy nerd. Also you had me at The Weeknd so yes. Took a small liberty with the music hope you dig it.

Goes without saying,

Rated Explicit (18+ Years Only)

“You give me energy, make me feel lightweight”

It starts with a simple question, a small fixation you’ve had when it comes to Donatello and your rapidly growing crush on him.

It’s a silly question, possibly even a comical one, but nevertheless an interesting one.

You’re both in his room, the ever changing LED lights accompanying the two of you while music drones out of his speakers. Inside the nook he barely sleeps in but still smells of him. Opposite each other, with your foot buried beneath his strong legs because you’re easily cold. That small detail of having Donnie’s hand resting close to your ankle making you smile.

Being best friends naturally meant that all manner of conversations have been had. Fun topics, curiosities of life and even some personal things you wouldn’t actually discuss with just anybody.

So you ask it,

“What’s a must have song in a sex playlist” You grin, wondering if this might be the time you both reach a TMI moment, but Donnie doesn’t disappoint. “I believe the mood is a big factor there, there is no sole correct answer” He throws back with a knowing smile. You slip your feet from under his thigh and opt out to prop them up on his lap, and on auto pilot he grabs them giving the soles of your feet a squeeze.

“Define mood? mood for sex is pretty straightforward and there’s gotta be a must have on said sex playlist” You retort back, enjoying how he just starts massaging your feet. “True but what I’m referring more is the mood of the moment, is it a loving mood? A kinky mood?” You wiggle your toes when he catches a ticklish spot. His answer absolutely delights you so you prod just a little more.

“Ok follow up, you’ve got a girl on your bed and she’s got the hots for you, what are you playing to set the mood just right?” You lean back, proud of yourself with the sheepish smile Donnie sports, making him flush was one of your favorite past times.

“Depends, is this girl kinky? Is she vanilla?” He pushes up his glasses when you make an ‘oh’ sound. “I think you like vanilla girls” You enunciate your statement by poking him with your foot.

“Y/n I’m seriously hurt, all this time as friends and you think vanilla girls are my favorite?” He shook his head with a snort.

“Donatello well I’ll be, we gotta circle back to that in a bit. So final answer, what are you playing when this hypothetical girl is giving you bedroom eyes?” You found his gaze, a shy smile gracing his features. Donnie leaned over plucking a tablet from his many little Knick knacks in the nook. He scrolled for a bit, swiping his finger upwards before a pleased look appeared on his face.

The familiar bass beat made your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Streets by Doja Cat? Really?” He nodded placing the tablet back in its stand. “Don’t approve?” He asked, you shook your head. “Au Contraire, I’d jump anybodies bones who’d play that to set the mood” The two of you looked at one another, Donnie eyes carefully scanning over your features, assessing a mile a minute in that brilliant mind of his.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” He followed the tip of your tongue sneaking out before you bit down on your bottom lip.

“Depends. Are you seducible?” You felt his hands run down your feet, gripping your ankles.

Donnie moved your legs, scooting closer to you with an unreadable expression. You didn’t register holding your breath until you reached for his glasses. Setting them aside you inched closer towards his lips. Donnie closed the remaining space, catching your lower lip between his lips, he kissed softly chastely leaving you somewhat hanging for what you hoped would be a deep kiss.

“You’re such a needy baby” His smile spread and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Oh. So that’s how he wanted to play.

You were ready to crash your lips onto his but felt his hand wrap around your throat, the way your pupils dilated only made him chuckle softly. “Call me vanilla again” His thumb caressed your throat, the sensation soothing but only making your stomach flip flop on itself. You were about to let another sass laced comment fall from your lips when his hand slid up, cupping your chin, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your lips.

God if he didn’t jump you by now you were going to scream.

“Donnie-“ He slid said thumb into your mouth and on command your eyes closed, where the fuck and how the fuck was he being this cocky and sure of himself?

Feeling the bed dip and said digit in your mouth disappear your eyes shot open. Donnie was pleased as punch with how stricken you looked. You bit the inside of your cheeks, pressing your thighs together. Time to level the playing field. You smoothed out your skirt, sitting up better to entice him with your legs.

“Chicken” You smirked.

“You can do better than that, Y/n” Donnie made sure the space was safe and no interruptions would take place, he toned down the colors of the lights. For a fraction the air of cockiness left him. “Are sure about this? Do you want to keep going?” Ever the gentleman, you gave your answer by hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer. You backed up into the nook, Donnie knelt on the bed, astride your hips, eyes focused on taking in the details he’d often fantasized about.

“You already know how this one will end” You ran a hand up that hard plastron, the sensation making you curious, gently you placed open mouthed kisses. You felt him inhale deeply as you slowly undid the button of his pants. His hand came to rest behind your hair, digging into the scalp as you continue your trail of kisses.

“This your plan all along?” You snapped off his suspenders. “Too obvious I’ve been wanting to fuck my best friend silly?” Donnie swallowed, hands untying his signature mask, he tugged you down onto his bed, he’d never seen an image so beautiful and right. Without hesitation his hands cupped your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. He buried his face between them, all tension rolling off those broad shoulders in shuddering breaths. “You smell perfect” Came his muffled reply between your breast. You raised your hips, trying to find some friction which Donnie was happy to provide with a roll of his hips.

That felt big, that felt way too good. “I feel better I can assure you” That definitely caused a deep churr to vibrate from within him. Explorations can be resumed for another time, right now you wanted him to feel the mess he had caused with such simple touches and words. Somewhere around breathing each others hard gasps, you felt your skirt being pushed up, as you nudged his pants further down with your foot. Donnie was super glued to your lips, even as hands explored, cupping, grabbing, running along the product of his torture.

With a plead that you pressed against his throat you felt Donnie throw your leg over his hip, your hand disappearing between the two of your to guide his hard slick cock to your aching core. There on your sides you met eyes as he pushed into you so deliberately slow, not just to not hurt you but to watch that very second where your gaze comprehended the sensation of him. Your knuckles ran the edges of his shell before landing at his neck. Each thrust sending waves of dizzying pleasure.

Donnie pressed his forehead against yours, that cockiness replaced by pure bliss, mouth agape and eyes shut tight as he moved with each of your wanton sounds. “Donnie look at me, want you to look at me when you cum” Your voice trembled when his eyes fluttered open and you saw such a debauched display. This time you grinned breathless as you wrapped a hand around his neck. “Yes, just like that baby, for me come on” You moaned when his hips began to stutter ruthlessly.

Kissing Donnie as he started to cum was possibly going to be your favorite thing from now on. He went to limp against you but still kept a bruising hold on you as he filled you up and made you so warm. Running the tips of your finger across his cheek you saw that sated smile appear. Slowly disentangling you he slid down moving your legs apart, and already you knew that there was no stoping this.

You were both simply hooked.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Based on a wonderful song fic request I received from @itsametaphorbriansblog for the song Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat by Del Water Gap. I'd never heard the song before but trust me when I say it's awesome and my head was full with these lyrics. And yes, Alice in Wonderland is my favorite book.

Requested: Yes l No

CW: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of smut but nothing too explicit, some angst but happy ending.

Plot: Spencer wants to believe he can have a casual relationship with you. But just the thought of someone else touching you the way he does sends him into a tailspin. He wants you all to himself.

WC: 3.9K

—————————————————————

I do not want to fight this anymore

I just want to lay back

And watch you pin me to the bed

How he ended up here was somewhat of a mystery to Spencer but he had no intention of complaining.

He was sure he’d have time to think about it later, but right now all he was focused on was the way you pinned him to the bed, your soft hands wrapped around his wrists.

He was too enamoured taking in every beautiful curve of your body, the swell of your breasts and hips, the feeling of your silky thighs pressed against his own much hairier ones.

He drank you in as you kissed him, your tongue tasting like coffee and vodka. Your lips against his felt as though they’d found their rightful place in the world.

And when you finally lowered yourself on his throbbing member, everything else slipped away. The only thing in the world he could focus on was how fucking good it felt to have you wrapped around him.

It was as though all the stars had aligned and all his birthdays and christmases had come at once.

He never thought he’d have a shot with someone like you. This was better than even his wildest dreams.

I used to call you my best friend

Way back before you were my everything

Now I’m sucking on your neck

You’d worked together for several years and quickly became best friends. But there was always something more between you. Lingering glances, a few too many casual touches.

An odd tension that Spencer had never been able to put his finger on until the first time you saw each other naked and it vanished.

It had started after a few too many drinks at Rossi’s and ended in Spencer’s bed. That had been six months ago and since then the two of you spent all your free time between the sheets together.

It just made sense.

But you had made it clear it was simply sex, a means to an end. You were seeing another guy who knew about Spencer too. You told Spencer he was free to see other women.

He didn’t want to see other women. He only ever wanted to see you. He wanted to see you all the time, preferably naked and sitting on his cock.

He had agreed this was fine. He was ok with this arrangement. He’d told you he was fine with this other guy you were seeing if he was fine with you seeing Spencer.

Fine. Everything was just fine.

And you wrote my favorite song

Now I’m fucked up and carrying on

I do not know the words yet, oh

It had been a lie.

He thought he could separate the physical from his feelings but he wasn’t that kind of man. He wished he could be. But the idea of not having you all to himself made him feel sick.

And it hits me

I don't want anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

He thought he was ok with it until he was lonely in his apartment one night. He text you asking you to come over.

Your response told him you were with your other man. And he spiralled.

He couldn’t help his mind wander over the things you would be doing together.

Did he kiss you on your neck the way you loved? Did he know the way you liked to be touched?

Did he make you feel the way Spencer did? Did he make you come the way Spencer knew how?

The thought of you naked being pleasured by another man made his heart ache. Images of you touching him, being fucked by him, screaming his name; it was too much.

He wanted to be the only one who got to touch you like that; to see you at your orgasms peak.

It really wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to share you. He didn’t want to be left alone in his room wracked with sadness at the thought of you with another man.

Is it okay?

That I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

Yeah

“What did you get up to with Matt last night?” Spencer asked as he made you both coffees the next morning.

You rolled your eyes.

“Mark.” you sighed as you spoke. You knew Spencer knew his name, he had an eidetic memory for god sake. He was doing it deliberately.

“Matt, Mark same difference.” he shrugged, pouring sugar into his cup.

“We just hung out.” you took the other mug he’d filled and twirled your spoon around in it. “You know, usual stuff.”

You leant back against the counter, holding the warm mug between your hands and inhaling the smell.

Spencer turned to look at you.

You had a noticeable hickey on your neck, one he certainly hadn’t left. You must know he could see it.

“The usual stuff you and Morgan would do when you hang out or the usual stuff you and I do when we hang out?”

You rolled your eyes again and pushed yourself away from the counter and headed back towards your desk.

Spencer followed close behind you.

“Just because you don’t speak doesn’t mean you didn’t answer.” he whispered as he caught up with you. “Nice hickey.”

He practically stormed to his desk and threw himself in the chair.

You sighed to yourself. You should have known Spencer would be this way.

A little while later Morgan passed by your desk as you had your nose buried in a case file.

“Ohhh looks like pretty girl got some loving last night! The size of that mark on your neck Miss thing!”

You looked up at him, your cheeks stained crimson.

You made brief eye contact with Spencer. If you weren’t mistaken, his eyes were filled with tears.

He pushed his chair back and stormed away from where JJ and Emily were now getting a good look at your hickey too.

“What’s up with him?” Morgan frowned.

“I don’t think he’s feeling too good today.” You replied.

It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Tell me that nobody else touches you

Like I do, like I do

Oh, tell me that nobody else touches you like me

Tell me that nobody else touches you

Like I do, like I do

Oh, tell me that nobody else touches you like me

There was no case to take you out of the state and you were looking forward to going home.

Spencer caught up with you as you stepped in the elevator and shoved his way inside just before the doors closed.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked the second the doors shut behind him.

“Not tonight Spence, I’m exhausted.” you stifled a yawn as if to prove your point.

“Did you use all your energy on Mike?” he sounded so bitter.

“I did not use all my energy on Mark. I’m tired from dealing with a whiny, jealous baby all day.” you rolled your eyes yet again.

“I’m not jealous.” he scoffed. “Or whiny. Or a baby.”

“Sure you aren’t.” The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

You patted Spencer on his shoulder as you stepped out.

“Goodnight Spencer, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pouted a little as he watched you go.

Maybe it was time to just let you go entirely.

You’re pulling on my habit lines

The more I smoke the more I find

I can’t just fall asleep instead

One am and Spencer’s phone startled him awake. He was used to being called in the middle of the night for work so he was wide awake in an instant.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and put it to his ear.

“Reid.” he spoke, expecting it to be Hotch calling about a case.

“Hey,” your voice was low and sultry.

Spencer swallowed.

“What?” he knew what. He knew exactly what you were calling for.

He had to say no. He had to stay strong. He couldn’t keep giving in to you. Not anymore.

“You know what. Don’t play dumb Spence, it doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Well I’m touching myself.” you moaned softly. “But I do wish it was your hand between my legs.”

You heard a breathy sigh leave his lips. You knew that was enough to make him hard.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned. “I’ll be over in a half hour.”

You grinned as you hung up the phone.

Spencer wished he wasn’t so weak. He wished he could say no to you.

He wished he could tell you it was him or Mark. You had to choose.

He would if he didn’t fear the answer.

And you’re not my protector

I hope you know it wasn’t her

That kept me off your side of the bed, oh

He put his all in that night. He wanted to make you feel the best you’d ever felt so the next time you saw Mark you were thinking of him.

He made you come seven times, you honestly didn’t think you would walk for days after. By the time the sun came up you were so sensitive you didn’t know if you’d be able to dress for work without your clothes flustering your sensitive skin.

“Jeez Spence, I hope we’ve got another office day today.” You ached all over. “I don’t know if I’m going to be any good in the field like this.”

He felt an odd sense of pride. You’d remember this, you’d remember how good he’d made you feel.

He hoped he’d fucked Mark right out of your head.

And it hits me

I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like I do

Like I do

Like me

“Jesus pretty girl, your hickeys have hickeys!” Morgan chuckled as you walked into the BAU with no sleep and only one coffee in your system.

Spencer tried to hide the smug look from his face.

“Another night with your lover boy aye?” Emily nudged you in the arm as you made a beeline for the coffee machine.

He felt very good about himself right now.

“Speaking of your lover boy,” JJ piped up. “You had some flowers delivered this morning.”

Spencer’s face fell. No. No that wasn’t fair.

You forgot all about the coffee and headed to your desk where a beautiful array of red roses awaited you.

Spencer wanted to take them and stomp on them. The way you were stomping on his heart.

“Oh wow.” You smiled as you read the note. “How sweet.”

“If you ask me he’s trying too hard.” Spencer tried not to sound bitter or sad as he spoke. He failed miserably.

“Well good job no ones asking you.” You shot him an annoyed glance.

The tension suddenly grew thick. You and Spencer glared at one another while Morgan, Emily and JJ stared on in confusion.

“We have a case.” Hotch’s voice broke the stare off.

Thank god you thought. Saved before you had a chance to say something you’d regret.

You put the flowers down and headed towards the round table room. You heard Spencer shuffling behind you.

“What was that about?” JJ frowned.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Emily shrugged.

“I think I’ve got an idea.” Morgan smirked as the three of them started to follow. “Pretty boy has a crush on pretty girl.”

It is okay?

That I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like I do

Like me

You barely said two words to Spencer in the four days you spent in Missouri unless it pertained to the case.

Everyone could tell something was amiss between the two of you. The team was so used to your playful banter and inside jokes you had with one another. It was painfully obvious something was going on.

It was late when you arrived back at Quantico so Hotch sent you all straight home.

Spencer caught up with you in the parking lot.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

“No.” You didn’t turn back to look at him as you headed to your car.

“Y/N please we need to talk.”

“I’m sick of this.” You groaned as you reached your vehicle. “You said you were ok with us seeing other people Spencer.” You spun back to look at him.

He was playing with the strap of his messenger back in an awkward fashion.

“Well...I’m not.” He shrugged.

“No shit.” You scoffed. “I’m sorry Spencer but I can’t do this anymore. I like Mark, he’s nice. We have fun.”

“So I’m not nice? You don’t have fun with me?” He stepped a little closer to you.

“You’re draining Spencer.” You confessed. “I once thought maybe you and I could be more than, whatever this is, but it’s exhausting Spence. With Mark it’s just easy. We spoke yesterday and he said he wanted us to get serious. No seeing other people. I told him I’d like that.”

Spencer’s heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. He felt as though you had punched the air from his lungs.

He fought for a breath, stumbling on his feet a little.

“You’re...you’re choosing him?”

“Yes.” You chewed your lip guilty. “I’m sorry Spencer but honestly, you’re too much like hard work.” You turned away from him and opened the drivers door, closing it quickly behind you before you changed your mind.

You watched Spencer in your rear view mirror as you pulled out of your parking space.

He hadn’t moved. He just stood there, dejected and sad staring in your wake.

You were barely out of the parking lot before your first tear fell.

You’re in his living room

And it may not mean much you

But your plates are in his sink

And your sweaters on his bed

Won’t you text me when you’re home?

My baby, spare me all the rest

It had been little over a month and Spencer wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He wouldn’t speak directly to you. He wouldn’t even be in the same room as you if he could help it.

At this point the whole team knew something was up. Hotch had pulled you both up on it but you’d both lied and said everything was fine.

Everything was far from fine.

Every night for just over a month Spencer had cried himself to sleep. He’d spent his waking hours in his apartment imaging what the two of you were doing.

Were you laughing at movies? Reading together? Having romantic dinners or walks in the park hand in hand? Were you making love over and over again?

His sleep was haunted by thoughts of you too. No where was safe. He’d started wondering if he could even work with you anymore. Maybe it was time to go into teaching?

Being around you every day just didn’t seem like an option anymore because every time he saw you, his heart broke all over again.

Please just tell me

That nobody else touches you like I do

Oh tell me that nobody touches you like me

It wasn’t just that he’d lost the woman he had started developing feelings for, he had lost his best friend too. He wanted to talk to someone about the heartache he was feeling and usually that someone would be you.

He wanted his best friend back. It was killing him.

He didn’t know how to deal with losing you so he didn’t. He didn’t know how to talk to you anymore so he stopped talking to you altogether.

The flower deliveries stopped after a few months which made it slightly easier for him to forget about you dating another man.

After about seven months your demeanor shifted a little. You stopped talking about Mark as much and were more vague about your weekend plans.

By the time it was coming up to a year you stopped talking about him entirely. When Spencer overheard you speaking to JJ or Emily about your weekend plans it was always along the lines of “TV and pizza for one.”

For Garcia’s birthday the whole team was going out for drinks at a local bar. Since you ended things with him Spencer avoided hanging out with the team outside of work when you would be there. He would always come up with some kind of excuse.

But Garcia was not the kind of person to take no for an answer.

So reluctantly he went along. Emily helped him pick out a gift for her, a unicorn charm for her bracelet. Certainly not something Spencer would have chosen but Emily insisted the tech analyst would love it.

Whilst in the jewelry store a delicate silver necklace had caught his eye. It had an intricate charm of a bottle with a little label with the words “Drink Me” etched into it.

It had taken him back to a conversation from years past.

You were still new to the team and trying to keep your head down and not get in anyone's way. The team was all so close and you didn’t want to step on any toes.

On the way back from your latest case in New York you didn’t sleep like the rest of the team. You were wide awake, probably on a high from the adrenaline brought on by the case.

You sat at the back of the jet alone with your head buried in a book. You didn’t notice someone watching you or approaching you until you heard the leather seat opposite you squeak a little as your company sat down.

You looked up to see Spencer smiling softly at you.

“What are you reading?” he asked with genuine interest.

You blushed a little chewing your lip, turning the book over in your hands.

“Alice in Wonderland.” you slid the old book across the table to him.

He picked it up cautiously and turned the worn pages.

“First edition.”

“Yeah.” you nodded as he looked back up at you. “It was my dad’s. He used to read it to me when I was young. He passed away a few years ago and it helps me feel close to him.” it was the most open you’d been since joining the team.

Spencer smiled at you sadly and handed you back the book.

“I’m sorry about your dad. But that’s nice you have that.”

“Yeah I suppose it is.”

Emily had stepped out of the store to take a phone call and he had found himself purchasing the necklace. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t help himself.

Garcia had loved her charm, she’d squealed and hugged him so tightly Spencer felt the air being squeezed from his lungs.

She opened the rest of her presents while the rest of the team drank. You and Spencer kept making accidental eye contact and each time you would both smile awkwardly at one another.

You got up from the table to buy a round of drinks. Spencer watched you go. It would be his perfect chance to get to talk to you. He needed to know what was going on. Had you and Mark split up? And if you had, did that mean there was anyway he still stood a chance with you?

He’d wanted to ask for so long but every time he went to say something, the words got stuck in his throat, refusing to leave.

But this time he was determined. He needed to know where he stood once and for all.

At the very least could he get his best friend back?

And it hits me

I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like I do

Like me

“Thought you might need a hand.” Spencer sidled up next to you. It was the closest you’d been to one another in almost a year.

“Thanks.” you smiled softly, a little awkwardly.

You looked at each other for a moment, neither of you sure what to say to each other.

Not so long ago the two of you could talk about anything and everything until you were blue in the face. You never ran out of things to talk to each other about. So much had changed.

Spencer reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the small jewelry box. He turned it over in his hand a few times before he held his hand out.

“I saw this when I was getting Garcia’s birthday present and I couldn’t help myself.” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

You chewed your lip as you cautiously took the box from him. You ran your fingers over it for a few seconds before you slowly opened it.

Tears immediately sprang to your eyes as you looked down at the little Alice in Wonderland themed necklace cushioned inside the box.

You looked back up at Spencer with a sniff.

“Spence,” a small tear escaped your eye. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything about you.” he shrugged again.

You sniffed back any more tears that might fall and gently lifted the necklace from the box.

“Could you help me?” you held it out for Spencer who nodded and took the necklace from you.

He unclasped it as you turned around. He gently draped it around your neck and secured it.

You turned back to face him, you fingers on the necklace charm.

“Thank you so much Spencer, I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled. “I hope Mitch doesn’t mind you wearing it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“We broke up.” you didn’t bother to correct him on his name. “A few months ago.”

“Oh.” Spencer tried not to look too pleased about this. “Do you mind me asking why?”

“I think you know why.” you stepped a little closer to him. “He wasn’t the right man for me.”

“Oh.” he squeaked a little. “That’s uhm...I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No you aren’t.” you laughed, stepping even closer to him.

You placed your hands carefully on his shoulders and you felt him practically melt into your touch.

“Anyway I’m the one that should be sorry.” you whispered.

“For what?” he croaked, feeling weak at your proximity.

“For choosing the wrong man. I should have known better.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, your body so close he could feel your warmth. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but I have a guilty pleasure for rom-coms.”

“You’ve definitely never told me that before. I would have remembered giving you a hard time for that.” he laughed a little and so did you.

“Yeah, I figured as much.” you nodded. “Anyway, with my extensive knowledge of rom-coms I should have known.”

“Should have known what?” he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“That the girl always ends up with the best friend.” and with that you pressed your lips against his.

Spencer immediately took hold of your face in his hands and deepened the kiss.

You didn’t care that your whole team was probably watching. You didn’t care the whole bar could have been watching. All you cared about was Spencer.

When the kiss broke you both had tears in your eyes. You kept your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist to keep you close.

“I never want to have to think about someone else touching you the way I do again Y/N. I want to be the only person who gets to touch you.”

“Ok.” you smiled brightly at him. “But only if I get to be the only person who gets to touch you.”

Spencer laughed, kissing you again.

“That my love,” he smiled. “Is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Is it okay?

That I don’t want

Anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

—————————————————————

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[evafrechette]

With A Little Help From My Hyung

↠ yoongi x seokjin | smut | friends to lovers, slow burn | 18+ | 2.4k

↠ Summary: Seokjin is the best roommate Yoongi could have asked for, he’s funny, respectful, a good cook and incredibly handsome. That’s a big problem though - because Yoongi has a constant boner over him.

↠ Warnings: eventual smut, drama queen yoongi, oblivious seokjin, blowjobs, standing sex, yoongi enjoys seokjin carrying him around, anal sex, yoongi is clumsy and hurts himself, which is a great excuse to have seokjin look after him, the other members make a small appearance, my fic usually has a few swear words, hyung kink???

"Hyung, stop it. Leave me alone." Yoongi's deep voice grumbled defiantly.

"Aish, quit being a baby Yoongi-yah, let me help." Seokjin held his hand out to the smaller man who sat on the cold concrete ground below him, food scattered around his aching body, tangerines rolling down the sidewalk.

Yoongi slapped away Seokjin's hand, scowling at his annoying roommate. He got onto his knees and attempted to stand, wincing in pain the moment he put pressure onto his left foot. Only moments before he and Seokjin had left the convenience store, arms full of energy drinks, jelly candy, ramen and tangerines. But Yoongi being Yoongi was busy in his own world and didn't notice the patch of ice on the footpath right in front of him, once his foot touched the slippery ice he slipped and wobbled about, struggling to balance before his legs came out from under him, falling directly onto his ass. Paper bag flying out of his grip, contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

He tried to stand again, taking his time as he clung onto Seokjin's arm, managing to get himself upright, left foot hovering above the ground, but when he placed it firmly against the sidewalk pain shot up his leg and he suddenly felt faint. "Shit, I think it's broken Hyung." He looked up into Seokjin's eyes, refusing to let the tears spill. Yoongi was in pain, a lot of fucking pain but he couldn't let his hyung see him be a cry baby.

"You hit the ground hard but it's probably just a sprain or something, I doubt it's broken. You're a real drama queen Min Yoongi. Can you stand by yourself for a bit?" Yoongi nodded in reply and let go of the elders arm, watching as he carefully rushed around picking up the spilled food and shoved it into his own bag. Seokjin walked back to Yoongi, spinning around so his back faced the man. He crouched down, holding the overfilled paper bag tight against his chest. "Jump on Yoongi-ah, and don't even try it with me. I'm your Hyung you have to listen to me."

Yoongi rolled his eyes but slowly hobbled over to his taller roommate, awkwardly jumping onto his back, arms wrapping around Seokjin's neck, and his short legs around his waist when the older man stood. "I don't have to listen to shit." He mumbled into Seokjin's messy brown hair. Seokjin let out his trademark high pitched laugh as he carried his injured roommate back towards their apartment, "You're so full of it Yoongi."

The walk would usually only take five minutes, but carrying a grown man (who enjoyed complaining every few minutes) had a part in the trip taking close to twenty. Yoongi laid his head on Seokjin's wide shoulders and enjoyed the way his oversized blue shirt smelled of a calming mix of lavender and vanilla bean, he took a mental note to check what brand of washing powder the man used when he got home.

Something about being carried on Seokjin's back made Yoongi's belly flip, he had never felt so small and vulnerable in his life. He was the strong one of their group - the pit bull, small but tough, with an acid tongue that could make a grown man cry. But being carried around by his cute, tall, goofy roommate was actually kind of comforting, it felt nice to snuggle against his broad shoulders.

Yoongi could feel his cheeks heating up, he had been crushing on his video game loving roommate for a few months now. At first the blond thought they were just compatible roommates, respecting each others boundaries and privacy, they quickly became friends bonding over their love of cooking, but along the way Yoongi developed feelings. His eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than what was socially acceptable, sneakily scooching closer to his side on the couch while he watched Seokjin get annihilated playing video games and "accidentally" falling asleep during their movie marathon nights, head resting comfortably against Seokjin's shoulder. But Yoongi knew nothing would come of his little crush so he kept his feelings locked away and instead tried to focus on their good friendship instead.

Seokjin carefully placed Yoongi on the couch, pushing a cushion under his now swollen foot. He rushed off to Yoongi's room and returned with a blanket which he draped over the smaller man. With a happy hum he walked towards the kitchen and Yoongi watched with lovesick eyes as he put away their food shopping. Everytime Seokjin reached up for the top shelf his shirt would raise a little, giving Yoongi a glimpse of the tantalising caramel skin underneath. Yoongi longed to drag his calloused fingertips along that skin, to leave small kisses down Seokjin's spine, along his lower back and down over his firm ass. He sought to taste Seokjin, to feel his cock heavy on his tongue, to feel the burn of his cock stretching him out.

"Hey Yoongi are you okay?" A cool hand placed against his forehead brought Yoongi out of his Seokjin induced daze. His roommate was looking at him with fondness and concern, "Your cheeks are really red but you're not hot or anything. I thought maybe you were coming down with a fever." Yoongi knew he was even redder now, but he allowed himself to relax against the man's hand. He sighed when Seokjin withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bean bag on the floor. "Yeah, no I'm fine. Just a bit embarrassed about this." Yoongi waved his hand over his ankle.

"Aish, these things happen. Just have to be more careful. And Hyung is here to take care of you okay? Anything you need you let me know. Keep that boney ass of yours on the couch."

The pair spent the rest of the night watching a marathon of Law of the Jungle, empty containers of ramen and Kloud draft beer scattered across the coffee table. Yoongi as usual was unable to keep the snarky comments to himself, "Pfft look at them! Useless. I could survive on that island so much better than any of them." He quipped as a team of celebrities dived into the ocean to try to catch fish with just their hands.

"Errrr Yoongi-yah, did you forget that I had to carry your tiny ass home this evening? Your weak ankles wouldn't last a day on that show." Seokjin doubled over in laughter, clapping his hands loudly as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Jin-hyung," he scoffed, "Like you'd do any better."

"Pretty sure I'd do great on a show like this! You've seen me fishing Yoongi, I'm practically a professional at it now."

Yoongi groaned at this, Seokjin had dragged him out fishing more times than he could even count and he was nowhere near a professional level. The last time they went fishing together Seokjin didn't catch a single fish. He did manage to catch some seaweed and disintegrating plastic bag though.

Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and instead of fighting the feeling allowed himself to drift off to sleep, which wasn't hard as sleep was his favourite hobby after all. Yoongi was having a beautiful dream, he was being carried in Seokjin's strong arms as the brunette carried him along the golden hues of a sandy beach, gentle waves breaking along the shore splashing against Seokjin's bare feet. He mirrored Seokjin's smile as his Hyung looked down at him, carrying him bridal style while the breeze whispered sweetly around them both.

"Aish, Yoongi you are a pain in my ass, but you're kinda cute so it's okay I guess." His gummy smile widened at the sweet but slightly insulting words. "What are you smiling about you weirdo." Seokjin let out a small laugh.

Yoongi was confused, why was dream Seokjin insulting him? It took him a few seconds to realise that he was actually awake and that he was no longer asleep on the couch, but rather in the arms of his Hyung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let his body go slack against Seokjin's chest, adding a few very realistic soft snores for good measure. Yoongi felt his body fall gently against the cold mattress on his bed, shivering slightly at the loss of heat from Seokjin's warm body. A blanket was dragged up his body, before footsteps retreated out of the room and the door clicking shut quietly.

Yoongi's eyes widened once he was alone in the dark room, had he heard correct? Did Seokjin just call him cute? It took all his self control not to squeal like a teenage girl. He wiggled down the mattress, throwing the blankets over his head and snuggled into his soft pillows. That night Yoongi had the best sleep of his life, with a smile on his face and a hard cock in his pants.

-----

The following weekend Yoongi found himself squished between his friends Jungkook and Hoseok in the back seat of Jimin's tiny Hyundai Pony hatchback. Usher's 'U Remind Me' thumped out of the piss-poor and incredibly outdated sound system, tinny and grating on his ears. His friends, including Taehyung who was sitting in the passenger seat, were singing along at the top of their lungs, he threw his head back and groaned. Why did he get stuck with the loud idiots of their group? Yoongi peered through the windscreen, tall, shapely pine trees lined the dirt road they traveled along. Dust swirled around the car, a curtain of brown blocking the view of the car travelling behind them. The sky was dotted with grey clouds, slowly drifting across the sky hiding the sun, who was trying it's hardest to make an appearance.

The car full of friends pulled into a small gravel parking lot and climbed out of the stuffy vehicle. They watched as the trailing car pulled up beside them, excitedly chatting and joking around now that everyone had finally arrived. Today was Namjoon's choice of activity, one Yoongi was secretly dreading - Hiking. He cast a glance towards Seokjin who was dressed in a pair of black and white track suit pants, sneakers, wide brim bucket hat with drawcord and a fluffy cream jumper. He swallowed hard at the thought of wrapping his arms around Seokjin's waist and resting his head against his fleece covered chest. He looked so snuggly and warm and cute, yeah, really really cute.

Yoongi zoned out while the others planned their trek, his mind too focused on Seokjin's beautiful plush lips, enthralled by how his Hyung randomly pouted while he spoke, his plump bottom lip puffing out before returning back to normal. Yoongi found this habit of Seokjin's incredibly endearing and wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Or at just how crazy it was making Yoongi feel.

"Is everyone okay with the plan?" Namjoon asked, slipping away a map into the front pocket of his jacket. The group all spoke at once, loud and chaotic as usual. "Okay well let's go!"

The group trekked for a few hours, enjoying the challenging course. Up and down steep inclines, weaving through lush forest and snaking between narrow boulders that sat unsteadily on either side of their path. They eventually came across a small stream that separated the gravel path, Yoongi looked down at his feet and whined. "Do we have to go through that? I'm wearing brand new shoes." His nose scrunched as he caught sight of the shallow murky water he knew he would have to trudge through.

"Why would you wear new shoes on a hike Yoongi?" Hoseok laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. Yoongi glared at his friend, tempted to turn around and walk back to the car. Fuck nature.

"Don't worry about it Yoongi-yah, climb on." Seokjin smiled, bending down in front of Yoongi, memories of the previous weekend flooded Yoongi's thoughts. Without hesitation Yoongi climbed onto his back, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. He placed his chin into the crook of Seokjin's shoulder and sighed as herbal scented hair brushed across his nose.

"O-okay then, well errr let's get going then." Namjoon raised his eyebrow, the rest of the group watching quizzically as Seokjin happily carried Yoongi across the stream. They exchanged looks with each other, hushed whispers at what had just transpired, Yoongi knew the others would be talking, getting a piggy back ride was pretty out of character for him, but he was blissfully peaceful at that very moment. So fuck what anyone thought.

-----

Back at their apartment that night the pair settled into their usual routine of cheap ramen, beer and trashy kdramas on the television.

"Hey Hyung, thanks for picking me up today," Yoongi bit nervously into his thumbnail, a habit he struggled to free himself from, "You didn't need to . . Hobi was right though, those shoes cost $300 why did I choose to wear them today?" Yoongi knew exactly why - he was trying to look good for Seokjin. He had dashed out to a Camping and Fishing store after work to purchase an entirely new outfit for the day. He settled on a long sleeved yellow and green flannel shirt, khaki trousers and a blue and black fleece fila jacket. Plus those damn tramping boots that cost as much as his share of the rent.

Seokjin leaned in, inches away from Yoongi's face, breath catching in the back of his throat, heart hammering against his rib cage. "It was my pleasure," Seokjin grabbed Yoongi by the cheeks and pinched, jiggling the flushed skin between his thumb and index finger, "That's what a good Hyung does, helps their cry baby friends out." He laughed, letting go of Yoongi and plopping back down onto his side of the couch. Yoongi's hand shot up to his cheek, fingers brushing along his warm skin. Seokjin's touch felt amazing, electric sparks coursed through his body, Yoongi wanted those hands touching him in places that crossed the line from friends to lovers, those long fingers curling up inside of him brushing against his sweet sensitive spot, wrapped around his cock pumping him until it was too much to handle and he was screaming Seokjin's name while he spilled his release over his Hyungs hand.

Yoongi found it hard to concentrate on the television in front of him, eyes constantly drifting towards his roommate who looked amazing in a pair of grey shorts and loose white T-shirt, his feet curled up underneath him, strong thigh muscles catching Yoongi's attention. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes, Yoongi wasn't sure how much more of Seokjin he could deal with. He was the perfect roommate, but his desire to be fucked by the man was becoming an every minute of the day kinda thing. Maybe Yoongi needed to hurry up and move out. He thought about Seokjin at work, while doing his laundry, on the bus to the grocery store, while putting the rubbish out, when pumping his dildo in and out of his ass, Seokjin was on his mind 24/7.

Yoongi's cock twitched as he watched the couple on television, the male lead carrying the female through a cherry blossom lined park while a terrible ballad wailed in the background. He decided that being carried was his newest kink. Or maybe Seokjin's entire existence was his fetish? He tugged on his hoop earring as his thoughts travelled to a million different scenarios in which Seokjin would need to lift and carry him around. He recalled the previous weekend, waking up while Seokjin carried him to bed, how nice it felt to be held in Seokjin's arms, to hear him call Yoongi cute. He wanted, no he needed that again.

Yoongi glanced out of the corner of his eye, the brunette’s head was down as he browsed at something on his phone, he watered his lips and decided now was the perfect time to enact his master plan. Yoongi closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn, arms stretched high above his head, "Mmmm what's the time?" He asked Seokjin drowsily. "Huh? Oh it's  9:23, are you tired already?" The brunette placed his phone on the coffee table and shifted to face Yoongi. "You're not? We walked a million miles today, of course I'm tired." For theatrics he let out another yawn. Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Guess I've got a better stamina than you."

Over the next half an hour Yoongi let out more fake yawns, complaining about his sore muscles and tired bones - which Seokjin informed him wasn't a real thing and that he was being a whiny old man again. His body sunk into the couch, head lolling against the arm rest as he feigned falling asleep. It would only be a matter of time before he would be whisked away in Seokjin's arms and it was making him giddy, trying his hardest not to crack a smile. Yoongi heard the room fall silent, the television now switched off. His heart was racing, this was it - the big moment - his hands were softly shaking, breath uneven and shallow.

"Hey Yoongi, wake up." A large hand shook his arm attempting to wake him from his faux slumber. His eyebrows furrowed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Seokjin was supposed to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom, whisper a few sweet words in his ear and maybe jerk him off a bit. He opened his eyes and glared at the handsome man standing over him, his plans were ruined and he and his neglected cock were pretty pissed off.

"Why didn't you just carry me Hyung?" Yoongi sulked, crossing his arms against his chest like a defiant toddler.

"W-why would I? You can walk your legs aren't broken."

"Well you've been carrying me around a lot recently so I just thought you'd do it again tonight. Ahhh fuck it whatever." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Aish, Yoongi-yah do you enjoy Seokjinnie lifting you up and carrying you around?" He could no longer hold it in, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Yoongi's cheeks burnt bright red, he was already a small man but he had never felt as small as he did right at this moment. Tears threatened to spill over his long lashes, he knew he was being a little dramatic but his heart was practically ripped out of his chest by his crush. Yoongi bowed his head refusing to look anywhere other than at his hands which were clasped together tightly.

"Wait, shit Yoongi I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry," Seokjin dropped down onto his knees and engulfed Yoongi's hands with his own. "So you do enjoy being carried by me?"

Yoongi sniffed, "Yeah. I like a lot about you Hyung, the carrying thing is one of my favourites though."

An awkward silence filled the room, Yoongi's sniffles the only sound to break the dead air. "Well uh, there is a lot I like about you too," he stroked his thumb against the back of Yoongi's hand softly and slowly. "I like your dry sense of humor, the way you screech when you're excited - that is so adorable. I like how passionate you are about music and I really like how your cheeks turn red whenever we touch each other by accident. I sorta brush up against you on purpose just to see it."

A gasp escaped Yoongi's lips, head snapping up to look into the dark chocolate eyes of his roommate. Seokjin's cheeks puffed wide as he gave Yoongi a sweet smile, his thumb continuing to draw circles over Yoongi's hands which were resting in his lap. "I think you're cute Yoongi-yah, and I'd love to kiss you. If you'd allow me to of course."

Yoongi's eyes darted to Seokjin's plump lips, inviting and glistening. He couldn't hold back any longer, throwing himself forward as he smashed their lips together, hungry and desperate. In the wild rush of lips and tongues exploring new territory their noses bumped together, deep chuckles slipping out between kisses. Yoongi's hands frantically grasped onto Seokjin's hair, pulling him down so their body's were close but it still wasn't enough, he needed to feel naked flesh against his own. Yoongi's long fingers travelled underneath Seokjin's thin cotton T-shirt and brushed against his soft stomach, over his nipples rubbing the hard nubs between his fingers and then back down his chest. He played with the elastic waist of Seokjin's shorts, dipping his hand inside, fingers grazing the wiry mound of pubic hair just above where his hands really wanted to touch, "I-is this okay Hyungie?" Yoongi whimpered, Seokjin's tongue running along the exposed skin of his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin.

"Mmmm yeah, touch Hyung Yoongi." Seokjin bit down gently his teeth scraping the skin. He attached his lips against the smaller man's neck, alternating between sucking on the warm flesh and sly little nibbles, creating deep purple bruises that contrasted beautifully against Yoongi's pale skin. While Seokjin was busy marking his neck, Yoongi pulled his cock out of the shorts and stroked sensually up and down his length, which was growing harder and stiffer in his hand. His hand glided over Seokjin's length at a quickening pace, flicking his wrists and gripping tight around the head before pulling off and pumping again. Yoongi added another hand on Seokjin's shaft and slowly twisted in opposite directions, up then down, left then right.  His fingers played with the tip of his cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, stroking playfully over the head.

"Fuck your cock feels amazing Hyung," Yoongi sighed, Seokjin's cock pulsing in his grip, "C-can we fuck?"

Seokjin removed his swollen lips from Yoongi's neck with a 'pop' and took his time licking along the already fucked out man's lips, pressing their soft flesh against each other, gentle kisses that were in in opposition of the acceleration of Yoongi's heart beat. Seokjin sat between Yoongi's legs on the floor, hands roaming over the blonds thighs. When he reached Yoongi's crotch his fingers ghosted over Yoongi's hard cock visible through his sweats, he bucked his hips desperate for Seokjin's touch.

"Hyung's got you Yoongi, just sit back and relax hmmm?" He placed a sloppy wet kiss against the fleece material and helped pull them down to Yoongi's ankles. "Such a pretty cock Yoongi-yah." Seokjin's voice was smooth and sweet. His fingers grazed against Yoongi's balls, eyes flicking back up to watch Yoongi's reaction. He continued to massage his sack, pulling lightly and wiggling the weight in his hand. He rubbed his cheek along the soft skin of Yoongi's balls and then up and down his incredibly hard shaft. Tongue flicking out to leave small licks along the side, down to his balls and then further below to the sweet spot between Yoongi's balls and warm inviting hole.

Yoongi's slit was leaking precum so Seokjin lapped it up, moaning sinfully. A groaned escaped the back of Yoongi's throat when Seokjin took his balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing all over. He took his time enjoying their heat in his mouth. He stroked the blonds length while sucking the pale skin of Yoongi's inner thighs. Seokjin sat back and removed he and Yoongi's bottoms completely, throwing the pants into a small pile in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for Yoongi to stand with him. Their lips crashed against another's once more, Yoongi standing on his tippy toes to match his Hyungs height. A knee slipped between Yoongi's thighs as the two men continued to taste and explore each others mouths.

"Shit, we need lube, uhhh, don't move Yoongi-yah! I'll be back quickly." Seokjin ran towards his bedroom leaving Yoongi standing naked from the waist down in their living room, cock red and hot. He gripped onto the base and squeezed tight, moaning at his own touch. Seokjin returned cock glistening from the lube, bouncing with every step. Yoongi gulped, Seokjin was longer than any cock his ass had taken before but god was he eager to have it inside him.

They kissed passionately while Seokjin fingered Yoongi's hole, stretching him open enough for his cock. Yoongi's mind had turned to mush, absolutely lost in the moment. It was as though Seokjin had flicked a switch in his ass to become a whimpering, whining mess. Seokjin bent his knees and using his right hand guided his cock into Yoongi's tight hole. Once inside he allowed Yoongi to get used to his size while his hands reached out to wrap around Yoongi's small waist. Without warning he lifted Yoongi, a squeak echoing in the silent room. "You are adorable Yoongi-yah, can't wait to hear more noises come from those pretty lips." Yoongi's legs wrapped around Seokjin's waist which readjusted their position, cock now deeper than before, big hands reached down to Yoongi's ass holding him in place as they walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

Yoongi held on tight, gripping onto strong shoulders as he was pushed against the wall with a thud. Seokjin's arms trembled from Yoongi’s weight so he started to pound into his ass before it was too much and he would have to let him go. Yoongi let out tiny pants and whimpers, eyelids half closed, mouth so slack drool was starting to drip from the corners. Seokjin's cock grazed over his prostate, hitting deep and hard with every thrust. "Hyung, hy-hyung ahh ah so good." His hands roamed over Seokjin's back leaving red and pink marks underneath the thin material of his shirt. His cock was trapped between their bodies, friction from their movements driving him insane.

Sweat dripped down Seokjin's face, his arms close to giving out. This was more intense than any workout his personal trainer at the gym had given him. He slammed his cock into Yoongi repeatedly eager to cum inside his ass. Yoongi's whimpers in his ear pushed Seokjin to his peak and exploded his white hot cum into Yoongi's warm hole.

They stood still while Seokjin caught his breath, Yoongi hanging onto his neck for dear life, almost as though the floor was lava. "Hyungie make me come, pleaseeeee I'm so close." Yoongi whined, nipping at Seokjin's lips then pouting against the plush flesh. He would rather be dead than admit it, but Seokjin was right - he was a bit of a drama queen. "I'll have to put you down though, I think my arms are about to fall off." Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi detached his legs from around the brunette's waist and placed them on the floor.

Seokjin reached down and gripped tight onto Yoongi's aching cock, moving his hand in a steady rhythm. Their foreheads touched, breathing in each others air, hushed pants and whimpers shared between the pair as they kiss messily, lips grazing chins and teeth clinking. Yoongi bucked into Seokjin's grip, incredibly close to his high. Seokjin's cum escaping slowly out of his hole and running down his creamy white thighs and the hand around his cock pushed Yoongi to his release, "Ah-ah Hyung don't stop, ahh I'm going to come, shit ahh." His body tensed as he came harder than ever before, Seokjin barely moving his hand as his cock throbbed and pulsated.

"Hyung, you have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen." Yoongi sighed, wrapping his hands around Seokjin's neck, fingers crawling their way up to thread through short dark hair. "I've wanted to do that since the day I moved in," Seokjin whispered in reply, ears turning crimson, "Come on let's get cleaned up and then cuddle."

-----

The pair made their way into Seokjin's bed, snuggled between a mess of cushions and soft toys, their limbs a tangled mess as impatient hands explored naked skin. They laughed as revelations of their feelings for each other were finally said out loud, cheeks tight and sore from smiling so hard. "Seokjin-hyung can we do this more often?" Yoongi's eyes avoided the naked man beside him focusing on the window pane instead. "Well I would hope so since I want to make your my boyfriend Yoongi-yah." Fingers caught hold of Yoongi's chin as his face was guided towards Seokjin's, a shy kiss planted on his lips. "Yes Hyung, fuck yes I'll be your boyfriend."

The roommates turned lovers drifted off to sleep that night with satisfied smiles on their faces, excited for what the future would hold for them both.

[sugar-sweets-fanfic]

Andrea × Preg!Reader

Word count - 1,694

Prompt - A divorced pregnant woman lives next to Ursula and Janet. As the months past it gets harder for her to do much by herself. Andrea starts to help her here and there after he gains his mobility. One afternoon things grow intimate between the two.

Warnings - 18+(NO MINOR READERS PLEASE), fingering, pregnant kink, a bit of a mommy kink, handjob, fluff, and it's not proof read so sorry for any typos!

Readers note - this is my first fanfic so please bare with me 😅

It's been about a month since Andrea has helped you out. At first he would mainly just clean and head home. Then he began to practice or just play his violin for you. The more he visited the closer you got to him. Yes, you were a tad older than him. However, you couldn't let go of these wants for him. Still, you put them aside and continued to only be friendly towards the young man. Until he came over today, it was as though God had a special plan for you two this evening. Something you definitely weren't expecting.

As usual, you heard a knock on the front door. His knocks normally came in a silly little pattern. It always brought a smile to your face. Slowly, you gathered some energy to get up. Holding your big swollen tummy as you made your way to the door. Not even bothering to look through the peephole. You opened the door up and greeted Andrea.

"Good evening, Andrea. Come in, it looks like it will storm soon."

"G-Good evening, y/n."

He shared a warm inviting smile with you. As he made his way inside. Shutting the door for you and locking it. His eyes glide down to your belly. His smile grew as he met your gaze again. "You're getting so big." Andrea chuckled. You roll your eyes playfully. Giving him a gentle slap on the arm. Turning away from him as you waddle to the kitchen. "Gentlemen aren't suppose to comment on a woman's figure." You smile to yourself. As you grab two glasses from the upper cabinets. Pouring you both a glass of water. Your brows crease as it aches to stand for too long.

Andrea rubs his arm and let's out a soft laugh at your critique on his manners. He was about to make a snarky remark. Until he notices the pained look on your face. Quickly, he heads over to your side next to the counter. "You should sit down. Remember.. I'm here to help you. You need to rest." He said with a frown on his face. While you simply shake your head in response. "No.. I got this. The least I can do for you is get you a drink. Andrea, you do so much for me. I haven't done anything for you. Not even once, I feel bad."

Andrea stood there silently for a few moments. About to walk away he gathers an idea. Stepping behind you, his hands are planted on your hips. Causing you to jump lightly. Before you can protest whatever he was about to do. Andrea softly shushes you, while his hands snake around your waist. Your loose dress bunch under your belly. As his hands settle on that section of your body. Soon he lifts your baby bump, relieving all that pressure and weight from you. A deep sigh escapes you as your cheeks lightly heat up.

"There you go.. I hope this can help." Andrea says softly against your ear. His chin nearly resting on your shoulder.

"Oh yes.. Wow, it feels incredible. Thank you, thank you so much Andrea." You moan lightly. Unable to help, but lean against him. Your hands end up on top of his. As you close your eyes for a moment. Suddenly you feel his lip grace the side of your neck. Causing you to tense up and open your eyes. Pulling a bit from him, but not escaping his hold on you. Looking over your shoulder at him. Before you could question him he captures your lips with his. Pressing nice and tender kisses against your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as you couldn't help but kiss back. Geez, it felt crazy how he hand you wrapped around his finger.

"Andrea.. We shouldn't. This would never work." You utter between kisses.

"Mm.. Shh. Don't say such things. I know how you've been looking at me. To be honest, I've been looking at you the same way."

"R-Really?"

"Mhm.. And I know...Mamuśka potrzebuje masażu."

"Heh, w-what did you just say?"

"Mommy needs a massage." He smirked.

Your eyes widen at his translation. Gently, you fully pull away from his grasp. Turning your body to face him. As you step back a bit. "Andrea, I'm too old for you love. Please..you're making this more difficult." You say in a shy manner. As he moves closer to you. Backing you up into the corner of the room. Your back pressed against the angle of the walls. Your eyes stay focused on one another. As silence fill the space between you. "It's only a four year difference. C'mon mami.. Let me be the man you need. Because you're the woman I need.. I want." He leaned in and kissed your forehead.

A deep sigh leaves your lips, "okay.. But just this once."

"Fine, but I promise you'll want more of me." He chuckled.

Andrea reached down, lifting her dress a bit. Caressing your belly carefully as he kept eye contact with you. One of his hands slowly slid down. Feeling the warmth of your nether region. His cheeks grew rosey, biting his bottom lip. "Didn't know you weren't wearing underwear." He smirked. Causing you to shiver from a heated manner. "I couldn't put any on.. It's too hard to do now." You admit. Reaching up, you cup his face and smile. Spreading your legs a bit for him. Making Andrea more excited. He stared down at her tummy. As he focused on pleasuring you. Fingers delved deep through your folds. Massaging your pussy gently. Caressing your folds as his thumb circles your clit.

"G-God.." You whimper softly. As you pull him closer. Locking your lips against his jaw. Kissing down his neck in a rough manner. Deep kissing noises echoed in the room. Which was mixed with the moans of yours and Andrea's. Leading to Andrea pushing his index and middle finger inside you. "Ahhh.. Oh baby." You whimper against the crook of his neck. Your breath tickles his adam's apple. Giving him a semi hard on. Pushing you more against the corner. Pumping his fingers at a steady pace. Jamming them past his second knuckle.

"Baby, you are t-too good to me. Lemme touch you too, sweetheart." You whisper as you reach down. Having a little trouble reaching to get to his pants. Andrea chuckled and moved his hips forwards for her. "There you go, mami.." He uttered out softly. Taking his fingers out and moving his arm to give her better access. You subtly whine at the loss of his fingers. However, you couldn't help but chuckle at the reason for it. Getting his fly open you reach in and felt his erection.

"Mmm… we can please each other together.." He mumbled. Pressing his forehead against yours. Already rolling his hips up against your touch.

"Since you've been such a good boy.. I'll allow it." You tease.

Yanking his cock out of his pants, free it. You quickly spit on your palm. Reaching back down to wrap your hand around his shaft. Causing a gruff groan to escape him. You stare deep into his eyes. Starting to pump his shaft nice and swiftly. While he reaches back between your legs. Stuffing his fingers back into your cunt. Making your mouth hang out from pleasure. There you two were. Jerking one another off in such a tight corner. It felt so warm, from how heavy you two began to breathe. The way he throbbed in your grasp made you hunger for his climax. Your grip tightened and stroke grew faster. Earning you a loud cry of pleasure from the young man.

Out of nowhere he pulls his hand away from your core. Which makes you rather sexually frustrated. Before you can comment he pulls your grip away from his hard on. As you raise your eyebrows he lowers onto the floor. "Fuck me.. Please y/n. I want you to make me a proper man." He desperately begged. Staring up at you with those soft hazel eyes. How could you refuse? You had no words, only a hand gesture. Informing him to help you down, which he did.

You hovered over his lap, sitting up on your knees. Andrea had sat up, ready to cradle you in his lap. Wanting to help you be as comfortable as possible. You hold onto his shoulders as he holds the sides of your belly. You lower yourself onto his precuming erection. It slid in nice and easy, due to how wet you both were. Both you erupt into a sharp gasp. Sitting there a moment to adjust. Though, soon enough you began to roll your hips.

"Nnn... Mmh, oh Andrea. I don't need to make you a man.. You're already the man I need." You purr in pure lust. Cupping his face as you hump harder.

Andrea couldn't even speak from how good you made him feel. Whimpering at each hump you gave him. His mouth stayed agape. Your belly rested up against his flat stomach. So he let go of your baby bump. Moving his hands up the back of your dress. Groping your ass firmly, to help you bounce. His hips jerked up a bit to meet your collision. Both of you are speechless, only able to cry out in pleasure. Andrea squeezes your ass harder as he gives you an intense gaze. "I-Im gonna cum.." He said in deep moans

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Do it inside me.."

Those words pushed him over the edge. Gasping harshly as he shifts his arms. Wrapping them tightly around your torso. Holding you down as his erection spews his warm love inside of you. The erratic orgasm threw you into an orgasm as well. Hugging on to him tightly as you sigh heavily. As you calm down from your climax. You feel his hand pet your back. Followed by gentle kisses on the side of your head. A smile grows on your face as you continue to relax against him.

"I love you.." You finally admit in a hushed manner.

"I love you more."

[everafterkeiji]

Song: drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo

Summary: How the flashing lights in the street bring you to the moment that was once yours and Oikawas.

Parings: Tooru Oikawa x fem! reader

Word count: 7.3k

Genre: angst

A/N: fuck it honestly, self control we don't know her boo, pls be careful with the flashbacks and little details, enjoy pt. 1 <33

next

"Can't you give me just one more kiss?" Oikawa begs, leaning his arm behind your seat as you see his irresistible pout resting on his lips. You chuckle before leaning close to him and him copying your actions.

Lips lingering with each other, as he removes his arm behind you to ghost upon your cheek. It was so intoxicating, a distance too great that was covered in tension. He glides his finger through your lips before resting it on your chin.

"Run away with me."

He states, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead to yours with a shaky sigh, his hand now running through the hair from the back of your neck. You smile at his words, caressing his arm, shutting your eyes like he did, embracing his warmth in his car.

"And we'd go everywhere?"

"Everywhere, any time, you name it babe." He whispers with desperation in his tone. This close. Why can't he hold you like this forever? A tear nearly escapes his eye as he cherishes your touch. Why did he have to lose contact with his true self?

He opens his eyes to see yours closed and in full serenity. He bites his lip before allowing the tears to cast down his cheeks. He tried not to sniffle so you'd let this moment last without any trace of pain.

"In that case, I'm not driving."

You joked, making him let out a soft laugh as he wipes his tears before you can see. Instead, he leans in finally breaking the distance between you two. You kissed back, not knowing his cheeks were tear stained as he lets his lips tell his apology. This wasn't him, this wasn't a kiss that could last more than once.

He hesitantly pulls away as you caress his cheeks as he leans into your touch, melting in the skin he's adored every inch of. He takes in the way you stared at him, the lights of the passing cars glowing on your face as his hands shakes at the sight of you.

He wished the silence wouldn't give out how painful it was to watch you like this, so with a disguise, he smiles.

"You'll be able to in the future." He says, earning him an ache to surround his heart. You intertwine your hands with his, your thumb assuring him since you've noticed a change in his aura.

"Maybe, but it's still you and me right?"

His eyes wander around his car, reminiscing on each memory that you've made in just a vehicle. Every moment where you'd leave the window open, freedom in your clutch. Every time your voices were close to being gone from furiously shouting the lyrics. All the times you'd rather sleep in his car and run from your problems. Even the random placements of clothes from the two of you, to scattered photographs and snack wrappers.

Just one more, Tooru.

"You and me, love. That's all it takes. "

You let your head rest on his shoulder as he turns on the engine, surprising you with your hands still intertwined with his.

"What'd you say babe? One last drive?"

You nod happily as he chuckles looking at you before driving, his facade weakening with every mile.

One more.

-

"Pick up, Tooru!" You shout, aggressively clicking the button on your phone as each call was heard with his voice mail. You threw the phone to the floor as you let out a scream, your throat begging you to stop torturing yourself.

"Pick up!" You scream once again before lying down on the bed, not giving a care that your sobs echoed outside his apartment. Your cheeks were warm, with heavy eyes and mascara staining the pillow cases. Tears nonstop with the crumpled paper in your hand. Shaking uncontrollably as you denied what he's done.

Running to your door, the breeze greeting your legs since you wore his hoodie to sleep and little shorts to cover the weather. Frantically turning left and right to reach the entrance of the building.

You let your hand cover your mouth as you see his car nowhere in your sight. You gripped on the handle of the door to steady yourself from falling, with your sob catching the attention of strangers.

"Y/N! Fuck- I'm here- hey I'm here."

Clouded with water, you barely recognize the person who was hugging you tightly. Falling to the rough surface of the ground, he joined you in your downfall and it seemed that nothing made sense anymore. The noise of the world drifted far from you as the only sound that replayed was his words, and you despised it.

How come it was only you?

"Y/N- I got you, it's okay now." Iwaizumi whispers but you shook your head punching his back as you fell into a state you didn't know Oikawa could put you in, solitude.

Iwaizumi hated hearing you cuss at the universe. It still scares him the way the color was drained out of your body when he saw you got out of the apartment looking like an absolute tragedy. Your punches felt numb to him but he couldn't ignore how painful it was to hear you scream Oikawa names, and for him to desperately come back.

"W-why-" You couldn't form the words properly since you were having trouble breathing. Iwaizumi carried you in his arms since he noticed your knee had been scraped, as he tried his hardest not to fall in rage for his best friend.

"I'll be here. C'mon, let's calm you down yeah?" He assures you making you nod, left with no energy but what remained was your heart torn by the person you loved the most.

-

You woke up to Iwaizumis voice making you shift in the sheets, mistaking him for your Tooru. When you opened your eyes, you didn't see your favorite pair of brown eyes instead you were face to face with the same hue but a different person.

"Y/N- hey I got somewhere to go to today but I made breakfast, is that okay?" He asks softly, a comforting hand to your shoulder. You nod as he smiles standing up to open the curtains now that you were wide awake.

"Thank you, Hajime." You bid him as he sits down on the bed, beside you. You turn to where he is and stare at him, overwhelmed with how he chose to stay.

"I'll be gone for half the day." He states as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes.

"I've never seen a birds nest this up close before." He jokes making you glare at him before punching his shoulder as he laughs.

"Says the fucking spikey ass hair." You threw back as he laughs, delighted that your past self was resurfacing every now and then.

"What about you? Don't you have any plans today?" He asks as you check your phone. You sigh as you saw the reminder on your phone as he takes a peak and his heart drops at it.

"It's nothing."

"You have to go. "

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"Okay now put your foot here babe." You obeyed Oikawas words as he pecks your cheek. Before you could insert the key in, he stops you. Questioning him, he turns to you with a smug smirk before leaning close to your lips.

You expected him to kiss you the way that he does but instead he pulls away before strapping you in, putting your safety first before kissing you. He laughs at how you were clearly upset that he lead you on. He strapped himself in as well.

"You'll get that kiss if we make it out here alive." He jokes as you gasp in betrayal, making him stick out his tongue, still taunting you.

"I'm kidding baby! But you will get that kiss when we reach that pole over there." You glanced to where he was pointing as you sighed in relief at how easy it was. Turning on the engine, he smiles at how eager you were to succeed.

"Then I'll get us there."

"Y/N-" he bites his lips before he could throw you something he'd regret. You look to him, wondering why he became silent. Clicking in your mind that he's being careful with his words since Oikawa left, you leaned your head on his arm.

"I know, Iwa. I'm sorry." You apologized so suddenly, surprising him that you'd catch up on his behavior. He shakes his head before wrapping his arm around yours, just like he always would.

"I know how much this means to you. Hate me for saying this, but he'd be proud to see you get it." He says, making you smile at how honest he was. If he were here, he'd immediately bring you to your favorite restaurant and go all out just because you aced it. To others, it'd look like another step into growing up, learning how to drive and how to maintain the quality of the car.

It wouldn't be this important if his words didn't paint you perfect memories.

"You know what makes me so excited?" Oikawa asks as you continued to run your fingers through his brown locks. His head was laid on your lap as he draws constellations in the air, smiling to himself.

"What is it babe?"

"I'll get my drivers license." You whispered as Iwaizumi pats your hair, happy that you managed to push yourself through that cloud of sorrow.

"Okay that is extremely random, Tooru." You chuckled but he shakes his head before sitting up to meet with you. Slowly, he pulls you into his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck as his hand loosely finds its home to your waist.

"We don't have to wait anymore, think about it." He asks making you focus on what he's hinting to. Once he realizes you couldn't figure it out, he chuckles before pulling you to him gently. Your heart beating too quickly for you to even realize that it felt normal for you to be this dangerously close to him.

"We can come home to each other."

At first you questioned why he was so worked up in teaching you how to drive and finally getting your drivers license, but now it was too clear for you and you hated it.

"Call me when you get it ok? Maybe by dinner we can celebrate?" Iwaizumi suggests as you nod, genuinely smiling that he was there to celebrate with you. You immediately wrap your arms around him as he does the same, closing his eyes, proud of you.

"You got this." He whispers as you embraced him longer, desperately wanting to cry at how thankful you were for him. Iwaizumi feels a flush to his cheeks as he pulls away, fearful of the pace of his heart.

"Well don't get my shirt wet with your tears again- I need to look presentable!" He jokes make you wipes your eyes as he smiles when he hears your laugh.

-

Hajime: I'm sorry I can't make it tonight, Y/N. I'll promise I'll make it up to you by morning.

That was the message that was sent to you hours ago yet here at 11pm, you were staring at the movie in the ceiling. Oikawa insisted buying a projector for the two of you to enjoy movies in the comfort of your own space. So using it now felt nostalgic remembering how much he loved this movie.

Sighing, you sat up as you lift the drink to your lips, relieved at the sensation of alcohol entering your mouth. It's been a while since you've got a hold of it. Iwaizumi being protective of the amount you could consume while he was gone so he kept the alcohol cabinet away from you. He promised that he'd allow you to drink once a month because he was indeed worried for your health if you allowed yourself to drink everyday.

On this day, you chose to ask him if it'd be okay to drink. Understanding the pain that you were in, he agreed. Before he went away, he got the key and unlocked the cabinet handing you your favorite drink. You thanked him as usual, now being satisfied with being alone with a bottle of liquor that could temporarily drown the pain.

Hearing a smack from where the projector was set up, the bright lights of the ending movie flashed through your eyes so you shield yourself from it. You immediately turn your back to the projector that was now facing you since it's lost it balance from your previous angle.

The credits rolled in as you reached for your laptop to stop the screening but then another video plays, making you read the date of the video.

"Hello! Unfortunately I'm still here in the car but I'm making this video as proof if I died, it's because of my girlfriend right here who can't drive properly."

It's him.

Turning your attention to the video playing in front of you. You scoot to the left so your silhouette doesn't create a barrier while you watched.

You had a hand to your mouth, lost at words for this unexpected video to play. His voice immediately brought you to tears as you gripped the pillow beside you as your laughter in the video echoed in the background.

"For the record- I'm learning so get this camera away from me, Tooru!" You defended yourself as Oikawa looks at the camera before rolling his eyes.

"On this episode, I'm teaching her how to park! So wish me good luck- maybe prepare a casket for my car." You immediately slap his shoulder as he lets a loud laugh. He sets the camera in a better landscape angle.

You smiled at his teases. It struck you how much you missed his little remarks that would always make your day. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you watched the way he looks at you as you tried to figure out which direction to turn to. His stare was one of the things many people wished they could experience.

A look as if you were the reason they believed in love and how endless it was.

Surprisingly, in your last drive, he still looked at you the same way.

Your chest tightens as you fell for his illusion. It felt like it'd be an eternity for you to move on from how he looked that night. You should've asked him why a tear landed on your clothes, why was his fingers cold and trembling? You thought that his kiss felt like the one you'd receive when you finally hear the priest bid you two as husband and wife but it was a kiss that held farewell in secret.

"Would you look at that! I'm alive and barely a scratch on my car so far- good job baby!" He cheers engulfing you in his arms. You swarmed him in sweet and tiny kisses as he giggles at each one before placing a delicate to your lips, closing his eyes as you pull him closer placing your hand on his cheek.

You wondered if there was something that could hold you back from how much you allowed yourself to endure the pain this long. Moving closer to the wall, your chest heavily coming up and down, difficulty in finding a way to breathe properly.

Kneeling to reach him, you let your hand touch the wall as your hand lands in Oikawas face as he laughs at something you said in the video. You felt how you closed your eyes and reminiscing on what it felt like to hold him in your hands again. His soft lips, his skin that warms you up during your cuddles, his hair that would be snuggled in your neck when he embraced you.

"I love you, Y/N."

He says, leading you to sob as you turned away from the wall, the light of the projector passing through you as you dropped to the bed with knees to your chest, the walls of the room was familiarized with your cries again.

You felt every part of you crumble as you continued to scream, having another miserable night. You'd rise from your knee from time to time to gasp for air from the unstable breathing.

You felt like a stranger to him.

That alone was enough for you to be swallowed by darkness once again.

-

How careless was he to assume you'd give him a call?

You're probably out with Iwaizumi celebrating and driving freely with him. Oikawa sighs as he removes the reminder from his phone as he takes another punch to the steering wheel as he feels the irony hit him that he's jealous of his best friend.

For someone who has been with you since you went to Aoba Johsai, Iwaizumi would've been perfect for you, Oikawa thinks. To keep you grounded, to take his position in making you the happiest.

He's everything Oikawa is but the difference is that Iwaizumi was the one who could give you more, and importantly, he stayed.

And nothing scared the setter more than to lose you to a person that can truly love you more than he ever could.

Though it feels like he's defeated already.

"Sir! Good morning, this is Oikawa from room 104?" He greets through the phone as the man smiles fondly at the sweet boy who he's seen chasing around in the hallway with his girlfriend.

"Ah! Mr. Oikawa! I barely see you nowadays what happened?" Oikawa sighs, running a hand through his hair, debating on what answer to give to the landlord.

"I've been okay sir, I just called to ask about the payment due-"

"No worries Oikawa-kun, the man took care of it for this month!"

Man?

"E-excuse me sir?"

His heart was beating too loudly at the sudden information. What man? He feels sweat rushing to him, heavily anxious of what happened to you and his apartment.

"Hajime was it? Ah anyway he's covered it this time!"

Iwaizumi?

It felt as if he was struck down by force as he drops to his couch with his mouth agape and eyes widened with his heart raging too fast for his liking. He let out a gasp, putting each piece into its place as he feels a swift of the threatening atmosphere surround him, along with anger.

"H-he's my friend sir- does he stop by often?" He asks, biting his fingers in anxiousness. With his other hand, he reaches for a pillow, gripping it tightly like he'd want it to collapse in his hand.

"Often? He lives there silly. I was honestly surprised you'd let him but I guess young love isn't for everyone, son."

He didn't even notice that he's thrown the pillow all the way across the room as he stands up, his phone held tightly in his hands, wanting nothing more than to be slammed to the floor but with sourness in his tone, regret in his heart then he replies.

"You're right."

After that day, even if it's been months since he was informed, he chose to feel numb but there was a tug on his heart at the thought of Iwaizumi taking care of you. You deserved every ounce of effort that the ace gives you. Oikawa is more than thankful that Iwaizumi was there to wipe your tears and embrace you since he was the one to cause you this overwhelming amount of pain.

But he didn't expect this.

"Iwa-chan, how are you?" He asks with envy hidden from his true intentions of calling him. Iwaizumi stretches, tired from the workout as he answers the boy.

"I'm tired. What about you?" Oikawa lets out a mocking laugh as he leans on the couch, hands behind his head but both hands were formed into fists as he converses with him.

"I'm sure Y/N is there to patch you up huh?" He exclaims making Iwaizumi sit up, nervous at the outburst but then he looks at the apartment, seeing your sleeping state on the couch, and he sighs. Oikawa was bound to know sooner or later.

"I'm sorry Oikawa but-"

"Hajime that's my apartment!"

"And she was your girl wasn't she? But where are you right now!"

He was at lost for words, like the life of him was knocked out of him, deeply taking in Iwaizumis words. It was unhealthy with how much he was shaking and how he felt so cold and empty. On the other end, Hajime bites his lip, suddenly regretting his words but he can't turn back knowing it struck a nerve to Oikawa.

"Oikawa, listen to me." Iwaizumi starts as the setter was left to no other option then to obey since he couldn't think of anything else to respond to him.

"I know you love her but you're never going to be there for her. You asked me to go to her when you left and it's been a year. I know it's a dick move to move in with her but I don't trust her when she's alone. If you ask her, it feels like it's been forever so I'm just- being there for her cause she needs me."

He hated how right he was. If he would be honest, leaving you alone would be the least appropriate thing to do. All he can hear was your screams and imagining the way you look made his heart throb with too many emotions.

What made him lose was the fact that he can come back with hundreds of medals, but he'll never have you.

And Iwaizumi was more than ready to win.

-

He was surprised to see you awake at 12am but seeing how distraught you were, he couldn't help but want to end the day with you smiling or at least a reaction where he'd feel his heart flutter at the sight of it so he sighs before asking.

"Wanna go for a drive?"

The question that left you with so much trauma, sounded so soft when Hajime said it bringing a new feeling to it. It didn't sound like an unfulfilled promise and you nod to him knowing he could never hurt you the way Oikawa did.

Maybe it was best for you to escape the apartment.

Spending time with Iwaizumi as you drove around made you realize that there was a world where you can enjoy life without wondering about him.

Or maybe because it was suffocating.

Being in your apartment and Iwaizumi moving in with you was something your heart can never handle. To this day, you couldn't put into words how you despised that Iwaizumi had to care for you so much, even letting him living with you for a year. You admired the way he's known you since high school and now that you all had to choose different paths but he still took the one that had you in it since Tooru left you stranded.

With every tear that left your eyes, he was one step ahead to wipe them away and comfort you with his embrace. His patience when he sees you passed out on the couch from binge watching a series you were never really interested in, even to bringing you to random events just to spark your interest like you had back in school. Taking the time for you to fully open yourself to him by sharing your memories with Oikawa and why you've gained an attachment to his white car that held too many memories for you to just let go instantly.

At first, Iwaizumi wanted to laugh at how simple it was. What was so special about these late night drives and basic driving lessons from him? Wasn't that just one of the little things included in a relationship?

But then he sees the way you'd always ask him to put the windows down and how you preferred driving at night, driving without a specific location. Even when you'd clung to the seatbelt when he'd drive in the rain. He was more than curious. There were so many questions in his head but he had to give you some space knowing these memories course through your heart and mind everyday.

Now looking at you as you leaned on the seat with a solemn look on your face, he realizes how heavy it was for you to drive like this, without him by your side.

"He's proud of you, you know?" Iwaizumi whispers as you shift your body to face him, leaning your head on the seat.

"If only that was true." You whispered as he shakes his head before hesitantly sets his hand on your knee as a way of reassurance.

"I never understood it at first but now I guess it makes a fuck lot of sense why you didn't wanna get your drivers license." He comments, making you nod drunkenly.

"Because what's a journey without him?"

Iwaizumi then shifts his body like you did, fully invested in whatever you had to say feeling like this was finally the moment where you'd let him just how bad were those memories embedded in you.

"He used to say- that the best part of getting my license was that distance can never be a problem but says the asshole who's fucking miles away huh?" Iwaizumi knew that even if it was a joke, you held nothing but the truth. He sees the way your eyes didn't hold a sparkle anymore when Oikawas name was mentioned or just the sight of him. You didn't look like the lovesick fool back in high school, that made Iwaizumi realize how love makes such an impact on a person.

"I don't even know who to come home to anymore."

"You have me."

Iwaizumi boldly confesses as your eyes gaze at him, wide eyed at his statement. How come it held something that you could never figure out? Realizing that he held his heart in his hands, he switches the tone of his voice, finding it hard to fight the urge to be real with himself.

"As your friend, idiot. Plus, I don't trust you around cup noodles." He adds, trying to clear the tension that surrounded the two of you. Smiling at him, you close your eyes, wondering why it felt right to be in this moment. You felt your self drown in intoxication as you took him by surprise as you let your hand rest on his cheek as Iwaizumi flinches at the sudden contact but finds himself accepting it, ignoring the pleas of his thoughts to back away.

"Don't fall in love with my broken pieces, Hajime. You deserve someone who is- complete."

You let a tear slip from your eyes as it mixed with exhaustion as Iwaizumi lets out an anxious breath as he takes in every word you said.

Yet there he was picking every piece of you wherever you went, admiring each of them.

Before he could answer, he felt your hand slip away from his skin and he turns to see you asleep. He gently puts you back in your seat, putting on your seatbelt as he frustratedly runs his fingers through his dark hair as he feels the trembling of his fingers. Hands to the steering wheel, gripping it knowing he's betrayed his own promise.

Opening his phone to check the time, what flashes before him was a photo of the three of you when you graduated. He sees Oikawa with a hand to your waist, grinning brightly at the camera while you had your eyes closed with a smile, holding out a peace sign. His eyes linger on Oikawa before he watches over your figure on the passenger seat.

Lastly, he throws his head back before glancing at Oikawa in the picture, closing his eyes before painfully whispering to himself.

"I've never felt this way for no one."

He then shuts his phone as he turns on the engine, hoping that this isn't the night where he'll regret leaving his heart open.

-

"Don't overthink it." Iwaizumi whispers as you sniffle in his arms, he let his hands play with your hair as he removes the phone from your hands. Why did it have to be so early? It's 10am, both of you were utterly exhausted from the night before, one of you experiencing a heavy hang over, and the other just extremely tired from his racing thoughts.

Unfortunately, Hajime found you sat up frantically on the bed as he quickly stepped in just to see an image of a post from one of Oikawas fan pages. Spotted in multiple places were the one and only Oikawa Tooru, accompanied by a certain blonde. Captured in photos were segments of them in a café holding hands, smiles plastered on either lips. Which lead him to sit beside you and embrace you, seeing that your luck was purely running out.

You hated how in each photo, he looked painfully happy. Even if you were meant to skip the photo, how could you when this was real evidence that he's promises were turning into thin air the more you look at it. After a year of constant aches and wasted tears, here he was smiling, which you envied until the end.

"God- she's tall, gorgeous, I can never-" Iwaizumi shushes you as you wiped you tears as they continuously ran through his sweats. Iwaizumi leans his head on yours, sighing as he prepares himself, wishing that you'd realize that not enough words were there to describe how beautiful you were.

"Don't try to tell yourself that you can't compare to her- because you're all he could ever want. "

"Shit, I'm so sorry. " Iwaizumi says as he watches a figure pick up the ball that landed next to her, a ball that was spiked by him, almost hitting her directly. You turn around, the ball in your hands with a smile.

"No it's fine!" You say but Iwaizumi was struck with the view of you. You hand the ball to him but the beating of his heart was as loud as fireworks during New Years. He knows you, of course he does. Oikawa never stops ranting about you anyway, showing him multiple photos of you, completely bragging about the fact that he's got you to himself.

And fuck- you were prettier than what the pixels display you in the setters phone, you had the ace momentarily blank at your presence.

How lucky. He thinks.

"Iwaizumi was it? I'm Y/N!" You reach your hand out as he smiles at you, taking in your hand shaking it lightly, as he stared at your eyes and admired the way your lips were tugged in a beautiful smile.

So this is her. He says to himself and the feeling washes away when Oikawa walks up to greet you with a kiss to your cheek. Turning away, he shrugs his shoulders returning to play.

She's his.

"Believe me that Oikawa can never look at anyone else the way he does with you." He puts your face in between his hands, wiping your tears as you sobbed holding onto his him. Iwaizumi wanted to scream at how the world kept pushing you through your limit.

Seeing the images felt like the universe added salt to your open wounded heart. It felt like your heart was progressively being tossed around like it was nothing. How come everyday felt like you weren't given a chance to be at peace? How come the moment you felt the tiniest amount of calmness was being in the car with Iwaizumi and then the next day you were back to zero all over again.

The image of yourself was already broken when you let yourself completely fall for the insecurities, but how can you rise from all of it? When it was clear that she was all you ever wanted to be.

"Hey, why don't we take a break? For real now, Y/N. Let's just put the phone down and- rest." Iwaizumi whispers, caressing your cheek as you closed your eyes, desperate to remove all trace of emotion. You wanted to blur out the world even for a second and Iwaizumi could promise you a silence worth more than you could ever want.

Your lungs were giving out, every muscle in your body, every function. It felt like any time you could collapse from the lack of sleep, the lack of proper nutrients, the lack of a smile. Your confidence was down to one as you held onto Iwaizumis words, drifting off into what he said before about Oikawa.

If all that he could ever want was you, how come you didn't feel like you weren't what he needed?

-

"You know that you're just being an asshole at this point, Tooru." Iwaizumi says as Oikawa sighs at the other end of the line. The blonde casually looks over to the setter as she takes a sip of her coffee. Oikawa leans on the pillow as he chooses his words wisely.

"How is she?" He asks, he can imagine the way Iwaizumi would roll his eyes, followed by a disappointed scoff. Oikawa knew the way your mind would work, and it never grew on him how every motion of his would bring destruction to you in any shape or form.

"What do you think? She's fucking crying again."

Even if there was a pinch to his heart, he simply took a deep breath to sustain how painful it was.

"Who is she, Oikawa?" Iwaizumi asks desperately. Oikawa turns to the girl sat in the dinner table as she meekly smiles unknowing she was the certain topic of the two best friends. The setter tiredly runs his hand over his face, wondering if there could be a way that he can exit without stepping on you and Iwaizumis heart.

"You owe me at least one explanation. If you can't give me one, then I'll be-"

"I'm ready. I'll tell you who she is."

And with the following sentences, the ace felt his ears ring along with a ruined heart.

-

Driving has never felt so rueful before but with every passing mile, all Oikawa wanted to do was stop and turn to where you were.

With a stab to his heart, he promised himself that he can never come back until he's found the silence in his mind.

"This is for us. I'll be better, Y/N. I'll come home to you- and I hope you can wait."

Those words may seem like they were directed to you but Tooru can feel himself stand small to his own declaration. He knows you're willing to wait for god knows how long, but he's indecisive if he has the power to wait for this emptiness that surrounds him.

He couldn't allow the rage in his soul to sit around and act like he's deaf to the screams of it. He needed to stop the sensation of his hands missing the way the ball was placed in it and how each serve leaves a breathtaking reaction on any crowd. The hole in his heart was too big enough for him to ignore, and he'd allow anyone to call him selfish knowing it was the inescapable truth.

Hearing all your voice messages to him the following morning had his heart begging for release. Every crack in your voice had him tipping over the edge. He deserved it- god he deserved it more than anyone else because he would have never heard such pain if he didn't book a flight to Argentina.

"Tooru, baby what happened? Please tell me this is a joke."

"Please fucking answer I need you- god Oikawa please!"

"Come back to me, Tooru- I'll do anything please."

"I love y-you, but I guess you've changed your mind huh?"

"Tooru, let's go home yeah?" A soft voice calls out for him as he averts his gaze to her. He sees how his bags were packed as well her tiny suitcase next to her, all dressed up to go. He stands up from where he is, gripping the handle of the luggage as the girl turns to him with such worry.

It was usual for the girl to awake him from his thoughts and he was thankful that she was brought to him, helping him in ways he could never imagine. She was a mere light in his street, a guide in his moonlight trips, and this was finally the moment to stop the waiting.

He takes a look at his apartment, before landing his eyes on the blonde girl who was tying her hair. He smiles fondly as he's felt the adrenaline to finally move again.

"Yeah, let's go."

TWO DAYS LATER ; 9:16PM

"Hajime, stop fucking around!" You laughed as you continued to drive. What a breather it was, to drive with somebody who brought warmth to the passenger seat. Previously, Iwaizumi tested your so called driving skills as he purposely flicks your forehead from time to time for no absolute reason.

You two were on your way home from a movie and Iwaizumi was the star that had grabbed your heart the entire night. He was pulling these jokes, making you cackle to no extent, threatening you that if you'd lose the arcade game one of you will have to forcefully wash the dishes for a week, of course both wouldn't back down.

Maybe for the first time, Oikawa has never visited your mind.

And damn did it feel good.

The part that you found pieces of yourself slowly gathering as you were introduced into a new way of light, it felt too good to be true. Felt like each piece was slowly coming all back together because Iwaizumi was the glue that got you together, it may take a long time to fully be fixed, but the ace proved to you his promise.

You're finally resting.

After the anger that rose above you, Iwaizumi stayed confident to his promise of finally giving you a break you well deserved. He fulfilled you days without technology to shield yourself from any knives from the social world, got you out of bed to watch the sunrise with you, left you places to visit while he was out for his internship. This was more than you could ever ask for.

It felt like flowers were decorating your lungs, heart was slowly being treated with a smile, and laughter that radiated growth.

All because of Iwaizumi.

Now there's a new feeling that has unlocked in your heart and you could feel the burn of it when you noticed how everything felt so light. Unlike before where every step felt too heavy for you to carry on, now that weight is being lifted off by Hajime.

And nothing feels better than that.

-

Inserting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie, you shivered in the nights embrace. Once Hajime has fallen asleep on the couch, you decided to take a stroll and your feet lead you to a place you've yet to visit in a year.

It was a walk meant for you to clear your head, to settle if everything was going to be permanent because you had to know which part of the moments you wanted to hold onto.

This was entirely a mistake- to stroll around his neighborhood like it was always welcoming you with open arms. All the things you wanted to decide on felt like it vanished once you became familiar with the turns of his car when it drove to this place.

This is where it all began. The lessons, the confessions, the blossoming of love, everything. It doesn't matter how many times you try to deny it, this place will always make your heart bleed at how noxious it was. You can never hate the way chills ran up your spine because of how they all rushed to your mind as fast as light.

It's truly a crime to despise how love is formed.

With the sight of his house, a smile creeps on your face remembering your last interaction in this household.

"This is my lovely, Y/N." He sweetly introduces you as you respectfully bowed but you were taken by surprise when you were hugged by his mom, making your boyfriend laugh at your crazed expression. You lose this tenseness when you felt how endearing she was as you gained courage to gently wrap your arms around her too.

"Welcome honey! I've been wanting to meet you so badly since this twat never shuts up about you." She says earning a pout from your boyfriend and a giggle from you. You turn to his dad smiling softly, as he reciprocates your gesture.

"Might as well get used to the house babe, you'll be an Oikawa soon."

You felt your heart clench with his words and you avert your eyes on the road instead. Finding it hard to sustain the bite of how it all turned into a pile of lies.

"No, mom! Please don't embarrass me like that."

You hear a voice shout out making you jolt from your previous stance.

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi awakens with a groan as his phone dings with every second. As he grumpily opens his phone, he was greeted by a flood of messages coming from a certain setter making him sit up and frantic to reach for you. Seeing your door that was wide open, he lets out a gasp as he fidgets for the door, cussing himself at the situation.

"Fuck, Y/N please no."

You suppressed your sobs with a tight hand to your mouth as you felt your feet gain the urge to ran away but your mind demanded you to stay to finally awaken you in this false hope you've been holding onto.

A silhouette of his tall now much more bulky figure was stood next to more of a petite on with hair tied in a ponytail. Wiping your eyes to sharpen your vision, it hit you like a grenade at war.

There he was, proudly introducing the girl that's haunted your dreams.

Oikawa was smiling brightly at her as you watched her look at him with the same expression.

He's right there with someone who isn't you and can never be you.

"You and me, love. That's all it takes."

"Tooru." You whispered as if you'd ever get the chance to let him notice your cries. God, it was unbearable. No words came to your mind, no beating of your heart, it was all gone because the only thing that will forever linger in your mind is the sight of the person you waited so long to come home to, has gone and found the perfect replacement.

Her.

Another glance meant like a sword heading straight to your heart in one swing so you finally decide to turn your back on something you knew you had to forget.

Love.

-

"Tooru, who is she?" His mom asks softly, not wanting to let the curiosity lace her tone knowing the smile on his sons face was an exact look he had when he had you.

"This is Himari." He glances to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, with his lips tugged into a smile, a genuine one that's been kept a secret for too long.

"My dear little helper." Oikawa jokes as Himari rolls her eyes as his parents grew more in confusion at the sight of this stranger.

"Help with what Tooru?"

"To get Y/N to live with me in Argentina."

[sckyie]

word count: 1.8k

genre + warnings: angst; post-break up, alcoholism, depression implied, mentions of death, open ending

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: i needa fix my links, suna imagine after this; valentines event announcement tmo

Death can be a strange thing. As a society, people weep and mourn the death of a loved one or a celebrity. Your body shuts down, scared to move on with life without that certain someone. Everyone responds to differently, but how do you move past the death of a relationship?

It was a rough week, to begin with. Losing the man you fell in love with then losing your job. The endless thoughts of Kageyama filled your head throughout the day. Though you missed him, you always wondered about how he felt.

To Kageyama, the break-up felt like a death in his life. That there was a missing piece of you. His heart hurt at the thought of you. Yet he didn't bat an eye when people asked about you.

You woke up to the bright lights gleaming through your blinds. You sat up, rubbing your sleepy eyes away. The bedroom had become a mess since you broke up. All of Kageyama's things in boxes, broken picture frames scattered, empty beer bottles on the counter. You groaned at the sight but you weren't in the right mind.

You dragged your feet into the bathroom, wishing for something to change. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how worse it's gotten. Your eye bags and dark circles were more prominent than before. Poking at your face, you sighed knowing everything you're doing is becoming more and more unhealthy. Starting small, you decided to shower before cleaning up a little in your room.

Kageyama had stuck to his usual routine. Wake up early, shower, have small breakfast, practice, come home to you. He had always forgotten that you weren't waiting on him at home. He grew this habit of saying "I'm home," but there was no one to respond.

Nonetheless, Kageyama was doing significantly better than you were. Harsh to say but it was the truth. He had amazing practices with his team, he spent time with his best friends, and he had no worry of you needing attention. His mind would clear for the day, only for it to be clouded with the thoughts of you.

A small bit of cleaning turn into a deep clean where your mind was empty. No thoughts of the break up nor your financial situation. You looked at the boxes and bags at the front of your door. Recycling the old beer bottles, a bag of trash from all over the house, and the one box that haunts you. The box of Kageyama's clothes, gifts and old memories in which you wanted to return to him.

You sighed as you looked at them, your stomach growling to break your silence. Your hand flies to your belly as you walked towards the refrigerator. An empty fridge, what did you expect? You hadn't left the house in days. Closing the fridge, you grabbed your bag and keys before heading out to the grocery store.

Kageyama opened the pantry cabinet to find an empty tub of pre-workout. Checking his other shelves, a lack of food and workout powder was evident. He groaned despite it being his day off, getting ready to go out.

You wondered the aisles taking note of what you need to buy and what not to buy. You cringed at the sight of alcohol, turning away from the cold fridges. Your eyes follow the different products into the next aisle. The items in your basket rustle, shifting the weight around as you trailed into the next walkway.

You looked down adjusting your drinks, walking on the side of the aisle. Kageyama had picked up a new tub of energy supplement, reading the back with all the ingredients. He looks up after hearing someone approach him down the aisle. His eyes widened at the sight of you yet you didn't even see him as you passed.

After fixing your basket, you continued down the aisle in which you knew you didn't need anything from. "Y/n?" You heard. You knew that voice, you could never forget that voice. Slowly, you stopped and turned to see the one person you dreaded seeing.

"Tobio," You muttered. He takes a step towards you, afraid of what you'd do. Your heart ached as Kageyama was standing a few feet away from you.

He stared at you, noticing significant changes in your demeanor. "H-How are you?" You broke the silence.

"I'm doing good, I'm just buying some pre-workout...What about you?" He took a glance at your basket, noticing some medicine among your groceries.

"I'm...okay...I just needed to buy some groceries," Your voice was shaky. Kageyama took a step closer to see what medicine you had picked up.

"Are you sick?" Kageyama tilted his head. "Are you sleeping? You look...tired."

"I'm just, recovering," You sighed. "My head does not concern you anymore." You looked at the ground, the pain in your chest intensifying. He's pitying you.

"It does concern me," His voice was stern. "Just because we broke up doesn't me I stopped caring about you."

"We broke up because you stopped caring!" You raised your tone. "We broke up because you called me a distraction and that you were just taking care of a toddler. You're not my boyfriend anymore, don't try to coddle me."

"Y/n, don't talk-" You took a step towards him.

"Shut up Kageyama. Stop trying to act like everything is okay between us," You cut him off.

"So what? I'm supposed to let you drink our break up away?" He defended. His chest began to sting after hearing you call him by his last name. "I'm not letting you kill your body because I left!"

"Fuck you," You spat, turning and walking away from him.

"Don't walk away from me," Kageyama reaches over and grabs your shoulder to stop you. "You're not going to die because you're out of a relationship. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm already dead," Your eyes were watering, you swat his hand away turning to pay for your items. "I'm done arguing with you Kageyama."

Kageyama wanted to go back and stop you but he could tell that you  were truly heartbroken. It was his decision to leave you. The night of the break up, you had asked him if he could pay more attention to you. It spiraled into an argument about time and how you acted with him. He called you a distraction. A waste of time. The one thing holding him back.

Those harsh words had stabbed you in the back as you left him that night. The next morning, you had been let go by your job due to overstaffing and downsizing. You had nothing left, that's when the drinking started. You thought it'll drown out the pain, it didn't. It only made it worse.

Roughly a week after seeing each other in the grocery store, Kageyama decided to go out for a morning run. Down his path, he spots the house you were renting while you two together. Back then, Kageyama had always brought up the suggestion of moving in together. As he encroached on the front of your gate, a particular sign caught his eye. "For rent?" He read aloud. He peeks into the windows to see an empty home.

One of your neighbors had noticed Kageyama as he went out to get his  mail. "Kageyama?" Your neighbor asks.

Kageyama turned to the unfamiliar stranger. "Yes?"

"You're friends with Y/n, right?" He asked. Kageyama stopped at the word friends, hesitantly nodding.

"How do you know my name?" Kageyama walked towards the neighbor, his eyes fixated on your house.

"Well," Your neighbor opens his garage, walking in to grab something. Kageyama watched as the man came back with a box, his name scribbled on the side. "Y/n asked me to give this to you if you ever came by."

"What?" Kageyama took the box in hand.

"Before she left, she gave me that to give to you," Your neighbor explained. "She said something along the lines of 'I'm too scared to talk to him anymore.' She said you'd come by from a run sometime. I didn't know I'd be so soon."

"Wait, before she left? Where'd she go?" Kageyama asked.

"No clue, I saw her donate a lot of her things but last I saw her, she just gave me that box," He put his arm on the back of his neck. "To be honest, she seemed really sad when she came by."

"Did she say where she was going?" Kageyama looked back at your house, noticing a plant sitting on the railing by your door.

"Only that she was saying goodbye to people," He says.

Kageyama bows to the neighbor before leaving, taking the box to his car. Before driving, he decided to make some calls to his friends about you.

"I haven't heard from her in a while, is she okay?" Hinata responded.

"Last I heard from her she said she wanted to leave," Tsukishima said.

"No clue, has something happened?" Yamaguchi asked.

"Y/n? I have no idea, do you need help finding her?" Iwaizumi says.

Then, his final resort. "Y/n-san..." Oikawa's voice was low. Even though he wasn't in Japan, he knew something. "She called me telling me that...she didn't want anything to do with, well all of us. She told me that after the break up she couldn't bear being around your friends."

"Why would she tell you this? You're not even here," There was hints of pain in Kageyama's voice. "Did she tell you where she was going?"

"She told me because I'm not there to stop her," Oikawa sighed. "Tobio, I'm scared for her."

"Do I have to ask again? Where did she go?" Kageyama's eyes were starting to water. "Is she okay?" Oikawa paused, thinking back to the phone call the two of you had before you left.

"Y/n-chan!"

"Hi Oikawa..."

"Oikawa? Y/n, are you okay?" You never called him by Oikawa, not even when the two of you met.

"I just wanted to, well, let go of something."

"Let go?"

"I'm leaving and I won't be coming back."

"Wait what? Where are you going? Why are you telling me this?"

"Because...this is my goodbye to you...and only you. I don't want to be around Kageyama's friends anymore. I can't stand being with them without connecting them to him. I'm only telling you know because you can't stop me from going."

"Where are you going Y/n? You're scaring me now." Oikawa was concerned of what you were going to do.

"Somewhere where no one will find me," Your voice cracked as you spoke. "Goodbye Tooru. Tell Kageyama I still love him for me?"

"Y/n, wait-" You had ended the call before he could continue talking.

"She just- what disappeared?" Kageyama started his car quickly looking for your contact. "She didn't say anything else?"

"No, I'm sorry Tobio," Oikawa sighed.

"I'll call you back," Kageyama ends the call as he began to drive towards his neighborhood. He taps your contact, waiting for the phone to ring. He waited impatiently, anxiously anticipating your answer.

That was until, "We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[impala-dreamer]

I'm not a writer but here's my best try at a 'comfort fic.' hope you like it.

Jensen x Becca

"Fuck! Not again!" Becca grunted, throwing her computer on the floor of her bedroom. The fragile bundle of plastic, metal and glass landing with a less than satisfying thud. Becca had half a mind to take it outside to the garage and beat the damn thing with a hammer until nothing remained.

She begrudgingly dragged herself from her bed, stepping over the object, fighting the urge to stomp on it, as she made her way out of her bedroom.

"Oh, hey." Becca said opening her door to her roommate, Jensen, with his hand in midair about to knock.

"Hey, uh, you okay? What was that thud? You stub your toe or somethin'?" He inquired with a cheeky grin, that is until he seen the unimpressed expression on her face. His tone then became much softer, softer than she was used to. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Becca closed her eyes with a sigh, before releasing the flood gates, and airing her frustration to the emerald eyes staring back at her.

"Nothing, it's just my laptop, it's been messing up for a while now, and it just quit on me. Like completely dead. And now I have no way to do any of my work, or write my stories. Which means I'm gonna be even more broke this week because I'm gonna miss all my deadlines. Which also means I can't afford another computer which will put me even more behind and I'm never gonna catch up, and I'm just so, so very so tired. And-"

"Hey, hey, calm down for a second and take a deep breath." Jensen said, gently cupping her cheek, running his thumb across her cheekbone.

Becca complied.

"Okay, and another."

He paused while she took another deep breath.

"Good. Now come here." Jensen smiled as he pulled Becca into his chest. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, as the other wrapped around her lower back pulling her body flush to his own.

For a long moment he said nothing, gently rocking her while they stood there in the doorway of her bedroom. It wasn't long before Becca burst into tears, crying into his neck as he held her close.

See it wasn't just the stupid laptop eating away at her, actually it was everything. Lately it just seemed like the world was closing in on her. Becca's anxiety had been through the roof for weeks now, and she just couldn't take it anymore.

Not to mention the fact that she was in love with her best friend, who was in love with someone else. Standing there in his arms crying her eyes out, she allowed herself to imagine that he loved her the way she loved him.

She was almost able to believe it, but she knew better.

"Okay listen, here's what we're gonna do-" he started, leaning away from her so he could look into her eyes, wiping away her tears. "I'm gonna go run you a bath with some of that bubbly shit you like, and you're gonna go in there and relax for a while."

"Jensen you don't have to do that, I can run my own bath." Becca sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"I know you can, that's not the point. Now go find some clothes to put on, and I'll go get it ready. Ok?" He confirmed. Becca just nodded, and he grinned before kissing her head and walking off towards the bathroom.

'Stupid, sweet boy.' she thought to herself, opening her dresser to gather her things.

Ten minutes passed before Jensen called her into the bathroom, and when Becca entered she couldn't believe her eyes.

He had done more than just prepare a bath for her. No, he had set the scene entirely.

He had lit candles, and sprinkled rose petals along the floor and over the bubbles in the bathtub. There was a bottle of wine and a wine glass sitting on the counter, and her favorite song was playing from the bluetooth speaker.

"Jensen.. wow." She breathed, already feeling like she may cry again.

"Ah, it's nothing." He dismissed, rubbing the back of his neck and nibbling on his full bottom lip.

"Nothing.. what? Jensen this is beautiful. No one's ever done anything for me, remotely as sweet as this before." She said, gesturing around the room.

"Well.. I'm glad you like it, darlin', enjoy. I'll let you know when dinners ready." Jensen stepped around her, kissing her temple, before closing the door behind himself.

Now Becca's head was swimming with thoughts of what that means. It's not that it's unusual for Jensen to kiss her head, but he'd never done it twice in one day, let alone in ten minutes.

Becca got undressed, clipped her hair up, and slowly eased her aching body into the scorching hot water, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips.

She inhaled the thick scent of lavander as her eyes drifted shut, relishing in the feeling of her entire body relaxing all at once.

It wasn't long before she was fast asleep, the wine long forgotten on the counter. Before she knew it Jensen was gently knocking on the door with the promise of delicious food right down the hallway.

As Becca entered the kitchen, her mouth once again hit the floor.

Jensen had once again set the scene. He'd dimmed the lights, lit candles, put on some quiet music in the background, and the dinner he'd made for the two of them was spread out on the table.

"Omg, what's all this?" She gasped, eyes as big as saucers.

"Oh nothing really, just trying to help ya relax, ya know? Come sit."

Becca slowly walked to the table, becoming even more confused when he pulled the seat out for her, sliding it under her as she sat down.

"Again, Jensen, this is not nothing." She almost whispered, not even sure if he'd heard her until he sat down across from her.

"Just enjoy this will ya? It's no big deal, I just hate seeing you so stressed out, especially when something as simple as this will make you feel better. Hopefully, anyways."

Becca nodded, looking at the juicy burger and crispy fries in front of her, hearing her stomach rumble at the thought of food.

They both sat in comfortable silence as they ate. Becca constantly wondering what had gotten into him. Why was he being so sweet? It's not unlike him to care, but grand gestures like this? Fucking weird.

Occasionally the pair would make eye contact and they'd both smile a little, but they never spoke.

When dinner was over Jensen took their plates to the sink before coming back over to Becca, taking her hand.

"Come with me." Jensen said pulling her to her feet.

He quietly led them to his bedroom, making her close her eyes before he opened his door. He led her into the center of his room and let go of her hand.

"Okay. Open em'."

Becca opened her eyes to see that Jensen had set up his bed with every pillow in the house, her weighted blanket folded up at the foot of his bed, a basket full of the candy they keep in the kitchen was on his nightstand, and her favorite movie was up on his tv.

This time when Becca seen what Jensen had set up, she'd had enough.

"Whadaya think? Movies and cuddles sound good?" He asked, as he slid his arm around her shoulders, leaning in to ONCE AGAIN kiss her temple.

Becca pulled away, taking a large step backwards.

"Jensen enough, what are you doing? This is so weird. What's going on?" She huffed.

"Becca, I told you already I'm just trying to help you relax."

Becca couldn't even stand to look at him. Here he was doing something that was incredibly meaningful for her, but to him it was no big deal? This is what she'd always wanted, especially from him, but not in the way she'd hoped. This was too big, it was like rubbing it in her face that this man, who's done these amazing things for her, would never truly be hers.

"Jensen. I.. I think I just need to lie down. Thank you for all this, but I just need some sleep." Becca turned and started for the door, trying to get away from him before the tears in her eyes could fall..but Jensen stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

"Becca come on, just one movie? Please?"

Becca couldn't look at him, couldn't even speak, and with a gentle tug of her arm, she walked out of his room.

But, to her dismay, Jensen followed.

Becca didn't have the energy to fight him, and as she entered her room, she left the door open behind her. Sure enough, he followed, closing the door behind him.

"Becca please, tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

Becca still hadnt looked at him.

"Nothing's wrong Jensen, I'm just tired." She replied weakly.

"Bullshit. You're crying. Why?"

She couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Because Jensen! Because you're too fucking perfect. I know you're just trying to make me feel better but it means more than that to me." She yelled, finally facing him. "Because you mean more to me than you should, and I can't handle you doing things like that for me, because I know you're not doing it for the reason I want you to be." She finished quietly.

"Sweetheart-"

"Stop calling me that," she shot back.

"Becca. What are you saying?" Jensen asked quietly.

"You don't love me. And when you do stuff like all this, it makes me feel like you do. And I can't take it."

"Don't love you? What the fuck?" Jensen snapped, anger and confusion flooding his system. "I did all this BECAUSE I love you."

"Not like I love you." Becca whispered, tears falling freely down her face.

"And how exactly is that?" He asked, taking a slow step towards her.

"Shit Jensen, you really gonna make me spell it out for you?? I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU." She cried.

Jensen grinned. Actually GRINNED at her.

"Becca, I'm in love with you too, sweetheart. Always have been. I mean shit, literally since the day we met."

"What?" Becca asked dumbly.

"You heard me."

Becca felt dizzy, and her knees felt weak, just as she started to buckle, Jensen caught her. He scooped her up into his arms bridal style, and took her back to his room.

Jensen gently laid Becca on his bed, covering her up with her weighted blanket before climbing in beside her.

He leaned over her and planted a wet kiss on her forehead, before repeating the action on the top of her nose, before finally connecting their lips for the first time.

They kisses for a long moment before Becca suddenly pulled away.

"Wait. You're in love with me??"

Jensen just laughed.

"Yes baby, come here."

Becca cuddled into Jensens side, laying her head on his chest, knee across his groin, breathing in his delicious cologne.

"Get some sleep babygirl, we'll talk about this in the morning, and see about getting you a new laptop, okay?"

Becca didn't even try to argue with him because she knew it would do absolutely no good.

"Okay," she sighed.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jensen."

And together they drifted off into blissfull sleep.

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