#Tried doing this thing digital and it took me three hours to make a single frame that i ended up scrapping

[rosegoldorigins]

Sneak peak to an edit I want to drop at some point-

If it were coloured the X on his eye would be glowing purple.

(His eye just got taken out and he's looking at Wukong in betrayal)

I would also LOVE for the X to flicker in and out of existence over his normal vs damaged eye but alas it's a vision that stays in my head for now :(

Hope you all like the art in the meantime :D

[izurou]

“kats, you’re worse than i thought.”

this is the third weekend in a row that katsuki has gotten stuck with an overnight patrol—a gruelling twelve hours that starts friday evening at seven, and ends the following morning, at seven.

but, it’s just past five am—the sun is desperately trying to rise somewhere off in the distance, and you’re sitting beside your boyfriend, who is face down in bed—a little out of it, and in a lot of pain.

“how bad?” he mumbles, referring to his back—the spot that clearly took the brunt of whatever, or whoever it was that cut his night short.

you don’t ask for details. it doesn’t matter how he got here, just that he is here—that he would come back home after presumably being relieved of his duties by another hero from the agency, choosing to skip proper medical care altogether.

he’s earned himself a scolding for that little stunt, but it’ll have to wait. for now, your job is simple—do what you can to take his mind off of the ache pulsing up his spine.

“like, borderline slut, i would say.”

do whatever you can, to take his mind off of it.

“huh?” he cranes his neck to look at you, wincing as he moves, and through the dull orange hue of the candle sitting on your bedside table, you see his brows furrow, and his nose scrunch up.

he hit his head too hard, he must’ve.

“i’m serious, baby. you have one, two, three,” you start gently placing your finger over various spots on his back—stifling a laugh when you catch him staring at you, dumbfounded. “nine, ten, eleven.”

he tries to peer over his shoulder, but is quickly humbled by the persistent throb radiating from just above the waistband of his boxers.

“fuck,” he mutters, shoving his face back into his pillow with a groan. carefully, you run your fingers through his hair, and he turns his head to the side—peering up at you through tired eyes. “eleven?”

“eleven! and that’s just on your back,” you smile, and he knows you a little too well—he recognizes the glint of mischief behind your eyes too easily.

“the hell are you talking about?” he asks.

“look, you have one,” you pause and place your finger on his forearm, right next to a pigmented little circle—a beauty mark. “here, too.”

his gaze shifts back and forth between you and where you’re pointing, but he just can’t seem to connect his own dots.

“they’re places where your lover used to kiss you most often,” you explain as you lay down beside him. “you know, in all your past lives.”

oh, and because he has eleven on his back, he’s teetering on the edge of promiscuity? that has to be one of the single most ridiculous things he’s ever heard—and he spent three years at ua with kirishima and kaminari. but, it’s coming from you—so he finds it endearing all the same.

what a sweet way of seeing things, how very you.

“you made that up,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut momentarily as sleep threatens to swallow him whole.

“did not,” you insist, “i mean, look at izuku.”

katsuki simply snorts in response before shuffling around—bearing the intense pain as he rolls onto his back and motions for you to snuggle into him, because it’d hurt more to not have you close.

at least, that’s what he’d say if he was a romantic—someone who’s beauty mark numbers are in the single digits.

“how many lovers do you think he’s had?” you hum, running a hand across katsuki’s chest in a soothing motion.

“none.”

“oh? two hundred you say?”

he sighs this time, muttering a shaddup under his breath as he allows his eyes to close once more. he’d like to leave it at that and drift off into dream world, but you follow up with a sentence that makes his heart flutter.

“don’t worry kats, none of them were me,” you laugh, like music to his ears—his favourite song. he can’t help the boyish grin that creeps onto his lips, and he thanks his lucky stars that you aren’t looking.

though your words make him wonder, if you were ever his in a past life—maybe you’ve always been his. yeah, he likes the sound of that, even if it is the single most ridiculous thought he’s ever had—it’s you, so he’ll think of it forever.

“good,” he says—feeling your weight shift a little, and when he opens his eyes, you’re there.

you’re close, inches away from his face, and you get even closer—pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, one that seemingly numbs him from the inside out, taking away his pain for that brief moment.

and as you both settle back down—snug in each other’s arms, he thinks he can finally fall victim to his drowsiness.

but you have one last burning question.

“baby, do i have permission to count izuku’s?”

“not even in your next fuckin’ life.”

[uravitypng]

𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

pairing: denki kaminari x reader, (hanta sero x reader)

word count: 4.9k

content warnings/things in part four: one paragraph of a sex dream, drinking, petnames(babydoll & pretty girl), reader cannot be trusted keeping secrets when drunk, jealous denki(?), written with a chubby reader in mind, i think that's it for this chapter! /// minors do not interact (in later chapters there will be more smut and more explicit content!!)

a/n: this part took awhile to come out and i'm sorry about that but aaahh this chapter had me squealing at multiple parts while writing! i hope you all enjoy!

summary: it's terrible when you're in love with your best friend. it's terrible that he's in love with someone else.

<< previous | next >> | masterlist / polls for this chapter: 1st & 2nd

"Does that feel good?" You whimper and nod your head. His dick is so big that with every single slow, teasing, torturous thrust he's hitting that special spot that makes you see stars. Your back is arching as you try to get closer to him. He sticks two of his fingers in your mouth and you suck on his digits like they're his cock, he grins that signature grin of his and takes his fingers out, running his hand along your body making you shiver as you feel the cool metal from his rings. Afterwards taking his hand and going back up towards your neck. He's holding one hand to your throat, squeezing gently, and with the other hand he's grabbing onto one of your thick thighs tightly, he chuckles, "need words, pretty girl." Pretty girl? Where have you heard that before?

Your morning alarm wakes you up at that moment and as you wake up you can still picture that dream so vividly. Did... Did you just have a sex dream about Hanta?

That has certainly never happened to you before. You can only remember having a couple sex dreams and they were all when you were younger, you've had three in life up until this point, all about pro heroes, even now it's hard for you to look Hawks in the eye. You've never even had a sex dream about Denki in the past and you hope to god you don't. You wish you didn't have this one either. You know sex dreams don't necessarily mean anything and hopefully you'll be able to brush it off when you see him tonight. It was just a dream in the end, that's all.

It's Friday, the 30th, meaning it's Mina's birthday. Mina's house is massive, it's basically the size of a mansion, the opposite of your quaint flat. You shiver just thinking about how cold it must be in that house and if it isn't cold the heating bill must be huge to keep warm all those empty rooms.

Everybody has tried to take time off to spend the night to celebrate and no doubt get very drunk if Mina gets her way.

A few people from her agency are going to be there but she said she mainly wanted to keep it as her close friends from UA. When she told you that you felt less than thrilled about Friday knowing how close she is to Jirou, you've just seen her last month, do you and denki really have to see her again? It turns out though that Jirou is one of the people who couldn't take time off. Momo tried to get time off as well but she couldn't.

You spend your day leisurely getting ready. You shower when you wake up to try and get rid of the dream you've just had from your mind, after you decide to put a movie on while applying expensive strawberry scented moisturiser that you own for special occasions.

You leave yourself some hours to get ready in the evening. There is a few hours until you're suppose to be at Mina's and a couple hours until Denki's home. You know it's not some fundraiser or charity event and you know that there's not going to cameras or judgemental looks from anyone, you're going to be surrounded by friends but you still want to look nice so you start getting ready, giving yourself plenty of time in case your make up goes wrong if you decide to wear any or your outfit doesn't look right on you.

By the time Denki's home it's later than you expected, he was held up at work, and you're all ready to leave at this point but you stay in your room out of Denki's way knowing that he'll probably be rushing all over the place. You don't want to be in the living room if he comes out half dressed, not after your less than innocent dreams last night. You scroll on your phone aimlessly until you hear a knock on your door, "you in here 'doll?" Denki calls out.

"Yeah, just a minute," you reply back and grab your bag, opening the door. You and Denki unknowingly coordinated, black clothes and a leather jacket, combat boots and matching friendship bracelets that you made out of string when you where children that you both still wear to this day, the friendship bracelets colours influencing your future hero costume colours. You leave the house on time, knowing that if you get there late Mina will complain.

When you ring the doorbell Mina hugs you immediately, "oh my god, babe, you look so good, you're the best, let's get you a drink." You chuckle over the fact she completely ignored Denki. She's already tipsy and it's only seven thirty. She drags you both inside and kicks the door closed behind her.

Ochako is already there sitting on the floor in the living room holding a cocktail in her hand. You grin knowing that you get to see drunk Ochako. 'She's so fun when she's drunk.' You didn't know you spoke out loud until Denki responded back, "you're fun drunk too but that's mainly because you're loose-lipped when you've had a few."

"Hey! I take offence to that y'know and I don't even know what you're talking about." You sit down next to Ochako and Denki sits on the sofa.

"Hi guys," Ochako says smiling at you both. "What are you taking offence too?" She asks curiously.

"How when she's drunk she's loose-lipped," he says back to Ochako while laughing causing her to laugh too.

Mina comes backs to you three, overhearing the conversation, with some drinks in her hand for you and Denki to take, plus another one in her hand for herself.

"Denki is right though. You're not very good at keeping things to yourself when you're drunk. Remember when you admitted that you thought Aizawa sensei was attractive?" Mina says, cackling at your dismay.

"Please let's never talk about that again." You bury your head in your hands, they all laugh.

With the coaxing of the others you end up having a drink, beforehand getting Denki to promise to not let you get too drunk. You make idle chat while nursing your second drink by the time you hear the doorbell ring. Mina gets up to open the door and in walks Katsuki and Toru. You all perk up seeing the two together, you knew Hagakure was coming but you never guessed she'd turn up with Katsuki.

Katsuki turns to you all, scowling, already having his arms crossed, knowing exactly what you're all going to say. "We met each other at the door dumbasses," he explains ahead of time before you even get the chance to question him.

Toru comes up to you and starts talking animatedly. Her energy is so contagious it's impossible not to match her energy as you say hello and ask each other about your day. You don't notice that Denki smiles as he watches you catch up and look so enthusiastic talking to everyone. Soon everyone is sitting around, all settled and talking when some people from Mina's agency come in. Not that long after that Hanta and Eijirou arrive last.

Hanta comes around the sofa to the floor right where you're sitting and sits in between you and Ochako. "Hey ladies, what are you drinking on this fine evening?" He asks peering into your glasses. You and Ochako reply and Hanta grins, "oh what a treat, we get to witness you both drunk tonight."

Denki takes note that straight away Hanta came to you and his knee jerk reaction is that he doesn't like that one bit. Mizuki, one of the people from Mina's agency swoops in and comes into the living room looking for a seat. "You can have my spot if you want. I don't mind sitting on the floor," he responds having his own private short interaction, using it as an excuse to join you on the floor.

"I know right Sero! I can't wait until they get really drunk and they both start spilling all their secrets," Mina says eagerly.

"I don't do that." you defend yourself once again, this time Uraraka nods her head agreeing with you as now she's been lumped in with you.

Hanta grins mischievously after seeing you get defensive at the statement, "I don't know about that remember that time when you told us about how you thought a certain pro hero and old teacher of ours was attractive," he teases you. You tell him to shut up but he carries on, "and didn't you once also admit that you kissed Monoma prior to graduating and then there was that time you-"

You cut him off, "you're all the worse," you groan, "and that was a moment of weakness," you add on referring to your kiss with Monoma. You don't know what he was going to say if you didn't stop him from speaking more and you don't want to.

Laughs fill the room at your mistakes and misery. "You might have to fill us in on some of that guys," someone from Mina's agency announces and Kiri starts filling them in on any of the missed context.

"Sayaka isn't there this perfect girl who just started at the office who would be just right for Sero?" Mina sits up to momentarily kneel leaning towards her, giddy, before sitting back down down.

"That new secretary? She is very cute. I don't know about perfect but I think they'd be good together," Sayaka responds and it's clear that she's the more rational one out of the two.

Hanta stretches out, "what's she like?" He inquires and you vaguely pay attention to what he says and the way his top somewhat lifts up as he stretches but still converse separately with Katsuki about the new issue of a manga that you both are a fan of.

Mina tells him about her hobbies and her appearance. She's thin, with sleek black hair and bright vibrant green eyes. She likes baking, singing, going to the gym and going on walks and hikes, when Mina's explaining all this it sounds like it's been ripped off a dating profile. Following Mina's description you then heard Sero say, "she might just be the one Ashido."

If you were paying full attention to them you would of noticed his kidding tone but you didn't. You whip your head around in shock, "what?"

Hanta's signature grin get's impossibly wider, "I'm only joking but I'm curious why you're so invested." He rests his chin on his palm, smiling toothily.

Denki downs the rest of his drink.

"It's not like I'm interested Hanta. I'm just surprised that you were talking about settling down." Maybe he does want to settle down, you suddenly remember that you'd forgotten to ask Kiri if he knew if Hanta wanted a relationship or not.

"I'm surprised too if I'm honest Sero. I thought you'd be that playboy type forever." Kirishima agrees with your opinion.

"Really?" Hanta looks perplexed. "I go on dates all the time."

"I never thought they were serious. I just assumed that Mina convinced you to go on them," Kirishima explained.

"Mina does convince me but that doesn't mean I don't want a girlfriend."

"I never knew that," Uraraka comments.

"I've got many layers," he responds playfully.

"Like an onion," Denki adds on making you snort and push his shoulder.

"Does that mean I can give her your number?"

"Yeah, if you want. She doesn't seem like my type at all though Mina but you never know."

"Ugh what is your type then?" Mina complains.

Hanta chuckles as replies, "not her."

Hanta flicks his eyes over to you and grins as you catch his eyes you grin back. "I expect another date story Hanta."

He leans close to you and hums tipsily, "of course pretty girl," before leaning back to his original position. Your face flushes fleetingly as you hear the petname he has said to you twice now, three times if you're counting your dream.

Denki shuffles towards you and holds up his drink, taking your attention off what Hanta just called you. You look at him questioningly. "Try it, it's nice. It's some drink that Yaoyorozu brought back from when she went abroad. I think you'll like it," he beams at you and you feel your face heat up at the proximity, you're definitely tiptoeing on the line of drunk now. You doubt you'll like whatever's in the cup, you and Denki have drastically different tastes when it comes to alcohol. Either way though you take the straw and take a sip pleasantly surprised that you like it. Denki lights up even more as he watches your reaction. "See, I knew you'd like it. It's not really my thing, I think it's alright but I knew you'd enjoy it. You should trust me more."

"I always trust you Denks," you take another sip from his drink.

His eyes soften and his voice sounds more sincere and less humorous than before, you're too busy toeing the line to notice his sincerity, "yeah you do, don't you." He softly smiles at you and offers you the rest of his drink.

A little later on in the night most of you are completely drunk, Katsuki, Sayaka and Yukio are the only completely sober ones out of the group. Even Hanta is still buzzed which is uncommon as he's got a fairly high tolerance for alcohol.

"I heard through the grape vine that you hooked up with Tsu," Mina asks Uraraka with a mischievous glint in her eye. That is complete news to you, the last you knew is that Ochako was still hung up on Midoriya, forever waiting for him to make a move.

Uraraka hums while smirking, "a girl doesn't kiss and tell."

"Boooo!" Mina responds and you giggle.

Toru speaks up trying to get more information out of her. "What about the last person you had any kind of sexual moment with?"

"Sexual moment?" Sero snickers.

"I'm trying to be broad here Sero, I'll start, mine was kissing Ojiro." Hagakure states.

"That's not very shocking he's your ex," Mina deadpans.

Toru hushes her and starts speaking again, "do you want to know about Tsu or not?"

"I'll tell you mine as well if you tell us," Mina promises.

"I'll tell you if you all say it."

"No way," you speak up after listening into the conversation but putting in no input. 'Sexual moment?' Would that include what happened to you last night and if it did it is rotten luck. You don't want to admit that you thought about Hanta last night but you know that you've drunk a fair amount tonight and it's plausible that if someone goads you on the matter you would let it slip.

You get up from where you were sitting and wobble while trying to stand up straight, you fetch another drink from the side and plop back down to where you were sitting. Hanta grins while watching you sway. "You alright there?" He says with a teasing tone.

"Shut up," you say, slightly slurring your words.

Hanta looks back at everyone else after looking at you and grinning for a couple beats, "I'll tell you Uraraka. I don't know what counts as a 'sexual moment'," he puts sexual moment in quotation marks and gleefully continues the sentence like previously said and says, "but I had a one night stand about a month ago." Ochako excitedly questions who it was while stumbling over the sentence drunkenly. "Someone from a nightclub."

"Boring," Ochako elongates the 'o'.

"You tell us if it was Tsu then."

"Not telling," Ochako replies cheekily.

"Boring," you copy what she previously said, laughing because of that though her attention switched over to you.

You thought you were able to leave unharmed by her questioning by getting a drink and Sero answering but apparently not, "what about you?"

You play dumb, in hindsight it wasn't the best idea you've ever had but you had three shots at this point, you had drunk whatever denki had given you and you were currently on your fourth usual drink. "About what?"

"You know what."

"I really don't."

"Sexual moment." Ochako replies. This causes Hanta to chuckle again.

There's no way out of it this time. "Oohh, that... I'm not telling." You respond and stick your tongue out.

Ochako doesn't approve of your answer, she keeps asking you and you're too intoxicated to realise that she's being hypocritical.

Because of her constant demanding that you tell her people who previously weren't apart of the conversation look over to you wondering what was happening. Out of panic you quickly mumble, "I had a sex dream last night."

"Who was it about?" Mina and Denki respond at the same time. Mina was practically bouncing with joy wanting to know who it was but Denki's tone was different, his was curious and cautious.

'No one important, it doesn't matter. I answered your question about my last sexual moment.' You thought you answered them out loud when you said that but it seems that instead your mouth said something wildly different to what your brain wanted to say. "Someone here," your eyes widen and you slap your hands over your mouth.

"Oh, really?" Sero smirks at you.

You down your drink and avert your eyes from everyone. "What about you then, huh, Sero?"

Sero laughs, "I've already told everyone."

You pause for a second, furrowing your eyebrows, "oh yeah." Everyone laughs at your expanse and you pout. Your response has piqued everyone's interest. Picking up your drink and going to take a sip of it you remember that you finished it in one go, you look back at Denki and take his drink out of his hand. "I'm in serious need of this Denks." You're unaware of this but he is in serious need of that drink too, he lets you have it of course but his brain is going at a hundred miles per hour. You had a sex dream and it was someone here. He's here... he's not the only one who's here though. His palms are sweaty and he tries to wipe his hands on his jeans inconspicuously as he see's how close you're sitting to Sero. Sero's here too.

"Come on," Uraraka whines. "You've got to tell us!"

"I really don't Ochako." you say flatly.

"If you tell us I'll tell you."

"It could of been about any of you, you're all attractive. Is that an efficient answer?"

"You think I'm hot?" Mina says gleefully.

You groan and lay down on the floor. "You're all terrible people."

"Kaminari! What about you?" Even though she's invisible, Toru is practically gleaming as she gazes at him.

"Yeah, come on. You're just as much of a playboy as Sero, always flirting," Ochako presses.

"Hey! I don't do that anymore. Sero is way more of a playboy than me. I don't even know what my last sexual moment was, it was so long ago."

Hanta smirks against the rim of his glass before drawing it away from his lips, "I don't believe that for a second if it was 'so long ago' you'd remember what it was."

Denki yields, "I guess mine was also a sex dream, I get them sometimes."

"'Sometimes' huh?" Hanta smirks.

Denki's cheeks become tinted red and the tops of his ears are the same as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. You can't help but think how cute he is when he's all red. Your inebriated brain is trying not to think too much about who those dreams might be about because if you did find out it would be hard to swallow no matter who they're about, even if you know he has no control over the dreams and they don't explicitly mean anything, just like yours didn't.

Your inebriated state can only do so much though as while you try not to think about who they are about you picture yourself in their place. You blink a few times briskly in an attempt to not remind yourself how Denki looks when he's shirtless around the house or at the beach or when he's just come out of the shower, water dripping down his chest, lean body that you've gazed at more times than you'd like to admit and his happy trail that matches the colour of his hair. Faint freckles that dust his shoulders and surprisingly built upper arms. You've never seen the rest of his body though, you wonder what- you shake your head rapidly to try and stop thinking about him, this time more successful than the excessive blinking.

You opt to save Denki from any more further teasing from Hanta, even if your decision was mostly a selfish one to take your mind of his answer. "What about you Kiri?"

He makes a sound of confusion, "huh?"

"What was the last time you did something sexual with someone?"

"A sexual moment," Hanta adds on with an easygoing smirk, subsequently making you laugh.

Kirishima responds by telling you all it was his ex-girlfriend. You're not particularly stunned by this but others are even if they broke up close to a year ago. Kiri has never liked the idea of flings or sex without feelings, he's always labelled himself as a romantic.

Bakugou vehemently refuses to answer the question when directed at him.

Later into the night you and Yukio are discussing the last gala, both of you attended but neither of you saw each other. Yukio was only drinking water tonight and because of that he was still more put together than others, including yourself, whose outfits were all askew by now and hair in disarray. Yukio has a very comforting presence with his warm smile and snow white hair. His slate gray eyes making him look half a decade older than he really is due to all the stress of hero work. Maybe that's one of the reasons why he notices the same things you do, perhaps you're both equally overworked and need a break.

"There was rather a lot of photographers that night, wasn't there? More than normal I thought, it was fairly odd." You nod your head in agreement, you thought the same thing. Maybe you should both take some time off at your respective agencies. "Hopefully they caught my good side though," he jokes and you share the same sentiment, only this time it's genuine and not a joke like him. You'd hate if they took bad angle photos that showcase your insecurities. Your body self esteem has been decent of late, you don't want some paparazzi to make it lousy.

After more alcohol and even more gossiping and chatting somehow you get dragged into doing karaoke, singing duets with Kirishima and Hagakure at the top of your lungs. They're better singers than they let on, you on the other hand not so much. At the best of times it's not your forte but when you're slurring your words the skill set difference becomes even more noticeable.

"Has anyone told you that you look beautiful tonight?" Sero grins at you, always the flatterer. Mina was the only one to mention your outfit and your appearance. After spending so long on it it's wonderful hearing someone else compliment you and also say you look good.

"Not as beautiful as you fine gentleman," you say play along, laughing. Hanta does look good, just like everyone else, wearing a grey button up with jeans and an orange and silver chain link drop earring, really tying in the whole casual alternative look that he normally has outside of his hero persona.

"Thank you I try my best," he teases you. You lean on his shoulder and snicker calling him a dumbass. "Careful there you're starting to sound like Bakugou."

"Oh goodness anything but that!" You joke.

Katsuki and Toru are standing pretty close together and you wonder if it was truly a coincidence that they came to the door together. Coincidentally your intoxicated brain ignores the fact that Kirishima is standing even closer to Bakugou on his other side.

You don't know what they're talking about but you caught a couple words 'group, beach' however you may have misheard because it also sounded like 'grope, bitch.' You believe it's likely the first set of words you heard because you highly doubt they'd say the other words, unless they were quoting something someone said, like Mineta.

No one's doing karaoke anymore but music is still playing in the background, not too loud to not have conversations but loud enough that you can still dance and sing to the songs. "Denkiiii, dance with me!" You grab Denki's wrist and try and pull him up with you so you can dance.

Denki chuckles and doesn't move, "you'll fall over if you dance babydoll."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is."

"Well that's more of a reason for you to dance with me so you'll catch me," you giggle trying to pull him up again, unsuccessfully.

Instead of letting you pull him up, he pulls you down making you shriek. You land right next to him so close your foreheads almost bash into one another and he laces your fingers with his while you were falling down. "Meanie," you pull a face. Unlinking your fingers from his, you wrap your arms around his neck and whine trying to convince him against the crook of his neck, "come on! Dance with me." You try and pull him up again while still holding onto him but from where you're sitting the only thing you manage to do is to get Denki to wrap his arms around you. You're currently still draping your arms around him and he's wrapped his arms around your plush waist tightly like he's afraid to let you go.

You stay like this for some time, holding each other, you can't tell if the hug lasted for five seconds or five minutes. When he separates from you he makes sure you've also separated from him so he can look at you properly and make eye contact. Denki smiles at you fondly, "promise you'll try not to bump into anything or fall over? I've been drinking as much alcohol as you, I might not be able to catch you. We might just end up falling down together."

"Sounds perfect," you reply happily pulling him up by linking your hands again, this time he lets you pull him up and you successfully and safely dance together, without falling over, until you're out of breath, him spinning you around and the both of you dancing up and down.

When it gets even later in the night you're getting more and more drunk and because of that you are in fact becoming more talkative and more likely to blab about your secrets and feelings like everyone said. You should leave soon before you spill anything but you're talking to Ochako and tell her that you thought she still liked Midoriya.

"I'm just stunned that's all. I didn't realise you were into Tsu." You grab hold of her hands and slightly shake them up and down, leaning close to her so she can hear you over the music. "I'm so pleased. I thought you'd like Deku forever," you whine at her and pout. "You're the best. I love you, you know, and you deserve better than to wait years for Midoriya to confess."

Ochako giggles and shakes your hands up and down with you. "I know," she whines back. "Deku's great and all but I'm so glad I've got Tsu now."

"So you and Tsu really are a thing?" You gasp. Ochako beams at you and nods her head. You squeal in giddiness.

"If we're here telling secrets you've got to tell me about Kaminari. It's pretty obvious that you're dating but I still want to hear you say it," she tells you. "I don't want you to ask me to be your bridesmaid before you even let me know you're together."

"What are you jabbering about?" You grumble starting to fiddle with your fingers bashfully.

"Come on, it's not fair if you don't tell me otherwise. I don't know why you were acting so elusive earlier about the sex dream you had, it was clearly about Kaminari."

Your face heats up at the implications and drunken images flash through your mind about Denki in bed for the second time tonight. Is it that obvious about your true feelings? "I swear there's nothing going on. He's my best friend. That's all."

"I don't believe that." Uraraka crosses her arms and looks at you.

"I'm telling the truth, Denki's been into Jirou since UA and my dream last night wasn't even about him."

A smirk appears on her face at this new founded information and the unfamiliar tone you used that she didn't recognise as you spilled. "ooh, who was it about then?"

"This might be the worst drunken experience of my life," you mumble.

Ochako laughs, "I'll get you to tell me one day. I'll get you to tell me everything."

"I'll never tell," you respond adamantly.

You turn your head to look at Hanta, Denki, and Eijirou who are all engaged in conversation. A gentle smile appears on your face.

taglist: @stabbygabyy @boreaswrites @cherribxio @st4r-girl-official @xnorthstar3x @kelly-fushiguro345

[tonksiefea]

How I know You|| Original Fantasy Romance

So this is Chapter 1 of a story I've been working on. It's currently 17 Chapters and counting but I'm hitting that point in my process where I want to delete everything and never touch a computer again so I figured I'd got some reasonable people to tell me I'm right! LOL I kid! Thank you to @soinspiredbyyou Who kindly encouraged me to post it Summary: Raziel "Rae" Marsh is an anxious newly published author who moved to a mountain town to escape her loving but overbearing parents. Things get a little complicated when a Fantasy Writer meets a Forest Ranger who starts making her books seem a little more realistic than Fairy Stories ever should.

Chapter 1

“No. Mom, I'm fine. I promise, I’m doing great. You and dad do not need to come get me. I'm an adult. Yes, I’m eating, no I’m not dating anyone, yes the book tour went fine and the new house is beautiful. I even found a coffee shop to work in.” Raziel, who would not share her full name under penalty of death and instead preferred Rae, loved her mother. She really did. 

Rae got a lot of things from her mother. Her red hair, her green eyes, her freckles, her talent for language, and most of all her overwhelming anxiety and worry for the slightest change to her life. 

What she did not get from her mother was the woman’s constant insistence that she find a husband, settle down, and start pumping out children like she needed to single handedly re-populate the earth. That part she could do without. 

It was part of the reason Rae had taken the money from her first successful fantasy book, touted to be the next “Chronicles of Narnia”, and moved to a secluded mountain town in Colorado where the population fluctuated between triple and quadruple digits depending on the season. She much preferred the quiet town life to anything else and she was finally able to live her dream of a quiet secluded life as a hermit writer. 

“Mom, I gotta go! I’m walking into the cafe. I’ll call you when I get home. No, mom I’m going to write. I can't spend my whole time talking on the phone. Because, mother, it’s rude.” Rae rolled her eyes as her mother launched into another tangent that would take forever. “Goodbye Mom. I love you.” She sighed and hung up instantly feeling a surge of overwhelming guilt for hanging up. 

She knew her mom meant well and she loved talking to her but right now Rae just needed some quiet. She needed to delve into the world of her imagination and ignore reality for a good three hours or so with a mug of cinnamon coffee so big people would confuse it for a bowl. 

She took a deep breath of the silence and looked down the streets seeing the one or two off-season tourists that wandered through the town for hiking. Summer was about to end but kids were going back to school and this little town was nearly abandoned. Even most of the locals either lived off the land, or worked in larger cities just down the mountain. Somehow, without her mother’s voice in her ear, anxiety started to well up in her. Something else too. 

For the past year, any time she was alone, she got this feeling but any time she tried to pin it down it ran away. She was sick of trying to chase a ghost but she couldn’t quite bring herself to give up on it either. Something in her soul said this feeling was important and that she had to solve the puzzle. She was pretty sick of the urgent feeling in her stomach and right now was not the time. Anxiety she could handle, the other thing could wait. 

Rae walked into the door of the tiny, eclectic, coffee shop and looked around. She had found it the day before, relieved to find a place that wasn’t a chain. If anyone knew how anxious she always was they would have assumed she was the type to order everything on an app and use self checkout. Except there was a certain charm, in her opinion, about having the sort of social anonymity of having a place she was considered a quirky regular. A place where the barista knew her order and the check out guy knew how to bag her eggs just the way she liked. The sort of pseudo social bond that made it so someone would notice if you went missing but you were still a little bit of an enigma. It was part of why she'd picked such a small town. She wanted that place where everyone sort of knew each other.

Rae walked up to see the same woman from yesterday behind the counter wiping  it down and humming to herself. “Hey! Welcome back! So I guess the coffee wasn’t too bad then?” The woman greeted, warmly. She had a sort of spirit about her that Rae hadn’t found at the cafe near her parent’s house in the giant suburb where nothing really felt local, even the local shops. She loved Burbank, but she was thrilled to be rid of it.

“I loved it, actually. Had to come back and try another one.” Her tone was friendly and she was proud of herself for being able to sound confident even if she didn’t feel it with ehr stomach bubbling and twisting and her heart beating a bit too fast.

“You want the Honey Nut latte again then?” The woman asked, turning to the computer.

“Actually I was looking at the Cinnamon vanilla cappuccino.” She admitted. Rae had a huge soft spot for cinnamon. She loved the sweet and spicy mix. It felt sort of fantastical, like the sort of thing a fairy should drink.

“Oh! Good choice! It’s one of my favorites. Biggest cup I can find?” the barista asked, quoting yesterday. Rae was surprised but she supposed in a small town like this new people always stuck out. Not to mention she was the crazy red head with the coffee addiction that spent half her day writing in the back corner and muttering to herself while she wobbled the table. That probably helped make her memorable.

“Please and thank you!” She said brightly as she pulled out her card to pay. The Barista was quick to process the purchase and say they’d call her name when it was ready and Rae nodded turning to the room to get to work when she was stopped short. 

She looked at her table. Her table, she had quickly decided, was perfect.It had a slight wobble to fidget with when thinking and just enough light that she could see but not too much in the sun as to need to take off her sweater and she could angle her computer just so in order to not get glare. Yes, her perfect little table was another part of the charm and allure of this place. Except right now, her table had a man sitting at it. 

There were plenty of other tables, that wasn’t the problem. The thing was Rae was a creature of habit if nothing else. She liked normal and same and comfortable. She didn’t just want any table she wanted her table. 

She was the kind of person that was one mental breakdown away from having the same outfit in 12 colors just because it was comfortable. Finding a new table once she picked one took time, it took effort. Yes, she’d only had that table once but it was her table! Now her choices were go find a new one: torture! Or talk to the man and ask if he could move: torture!

“Iced Cinnamon honey Latte for Liam!” was called next to her and the man stood up. She quickly averted her eyes to look at the menu pretending she was busy. As soon as he was engaged with the Barista she quickly slipped to the table into the same seat she had been in the day before, thankfully not the one the man had been in, and opened her computer.

“I suppose I don’t mind a little company.” A voice drawled over her. It was deep, and sounded like it was amused, and absolutely terrifying. She looked up to see warm chestnut eyes and a beard and shaggy brown hair and sun tanned skin. He was taller than her but not by much. Other than looking a bit ragged he was just a normal, average guy. So why did she get the instantaneous need to flee? Oh yeah, because she stole his table.

“Oh umm Sorry?” She asked, she tried her best to sound innocent and confused. Maybe if she could play it off well enough he’d just give up and move. It was her favorite table after all. 

Mistakes were clearly made when he sat down in the same seat he had left. “My table.” The statement was simple and plain and was accompanied with a rather self satisfied looking smirk.

“No one was here when I sat down so–” Rae started powering up her laptop and pulling out notebooks hoping it would be enough to stake her claim and scare him off. That was until the man pointed to a black bag resting on the seat next to his. “Oh. I must have missed that. Sorry I can–” She started to get up with tense shoulders and probably too perfect posture.

“There’s plenty of space. I mean the table is meant for like seven people.” It was an exaggeration, but not by much. The big, round table had been useful because she had been able to spread out her notebooks and books and still had about half a table left for cups and plates. “Besides, looks like I won’t be here half as long as you will.” He mused.

He gave a slow look over her bag of books and papers and pens and highlighters, it always looked near to bursting at the seams. His look had her blushing from embarrassment. Then his eyes slowly moving over her face like he was drinking in her appearance. His look had her flicking her eyes shyly down to her keyboard and suddenly feeling very warm in her comfy knit sweater. 

“Thank you. It’s just that this is the perfect table. It’s the right distance from the window to get light but not be too warm or reflect on my screen and it’s got a little wobble that I can play with when I’m thinking.” She explained in a rush. Why was she telling him this? Why did she want to tell this guy everything she’d ever thought? 

She fought the urge to look back up to the chocolate eyes of the man in front of her. She did not do relationships. She had knocked aside every single person who had even looked her way for as long as she could remember. This guy wasn’t even her type! Sure he was handsome in his own way, and he had a great voice but she wanted something else. She just wasn’t really sure what that was.

“Good to know I have good taste.” He said with a tone that had her looking up in panic. It sounded so weighty. Was he complimenting her? That was very daring. “In tables.” He clarified like he could read her mind.

“Right.” She said, nodding and trying to remind herself to breathe. There was no way she was letting this guy get to her. She was just a nervous person. So why was this guy so disarming? Why was he terrifying in a totally different way from every other human she’d ever met? Why did she want to know more about him? “You do. So umm… do you–”

“Cinnamon Vanilla Cappuccino for Rae!” The barista called. Rae nearly tipped her chair over when she shot up like a bottle rocket.

“That’s me!” She called. The Barista, thankfully, just smiled warmly and motioned to her with the coffee. Right she had to go over and get it. “Be right back. Can you watch my stuff?” She asked the mystery man as she, much more carefully, picked her way around her bag and towards the counter. 

She felt so stupid. Genuinely, she felt like an idiot. She had just made a total fool of herself and her anxiety was flaring like crazy. Her heart was pounding a thousand miles a second and her palms were sweating and her stomach was even a little nauseous. She took the coffee and the Barista smiled kindly.

“He’s the last new guy, moved in about a year ago. Nice guy but I’ve never seen him talk to the same person that long.” The barista commented. What was that supposed to mean? Was she special?

“Oh. Yeah well I tried to steal his table so...” Rae trailed off awkwardly. Maybe she should just go home and never leave her house again. She took a sip of her coffee and comfort washed over her body. “Wow.” She breathed for the first time in what seemed like forever. “This is great!” she complimented savoring the sweet and spicy flavor that made her feel magical.

“Told you! It’s my favorite. Enjoy.” The Barista turned in a way that clearly dismissed her.

Ok, so she couldn’t leave until she finished her coffee now. She looked around the empty cafe, empty except for her table that had the guy at it. She tried to pick another place to work but every single one just had too many glaring issues. That one really was her perfect table. So she just had to deal with the guy. Besides, something in her told her that if she moved the guy would just follow. A traitorous part of her loved the idea too.

She moved back to her seat and nodded a greeting to the guy sitting there. “Thanks.” She said putting her coffee down and moving to sit. 

“That’ll be 20 dollars.” the guy said with an impish smile that made her stomach flip uncomfortably and had her flopping into the seat she had just been trying to sit gracefully in.

She was a scared wreck 99% of the time but the other 1% of her personality was all redhead. Instantly her face flared red and rage boiled in her blood. “Excuse me?!” She asked, her chin cocked down and teeth clenched almost as tight as her fists.

Instantly his hands raised in surrender but his face was entirely covered in a smug smile. “Joking.” He assured with a wave of his hands to draw attention to his surrender. “Good to know you’re a fighter though.” He commented, taking a self satisfied sip of his own drink.

A fighter? She was not a fighter! She was a runner and a hider or a freezer at best. His words soothed her somehow though. It was like he was seeing someone completely different than who she was but for some reason she really wanted to be that person. “I just couldn’t believe you thought your services were worth 20 bucks.” She countered. “Maybe Five…cents” Was she teasing him? She was pretty sure she was teasing him. Where had she learned to tease random men in coffee shops?

“Ouch.” He said covering his heart like he’d been wounded but his smile was impossible to miss. It lit his face with an impossibly enchanting glow. She couldn’t take her eyes off the way his eyes crinkled in the corners or the way his laugh lines framed his lips. She ripped her eyes forcefully to her coffee and took a long drink of the soothing cinnamon. She hoped the drink would bring some much needed reality to her boggled mind. “I’d be happy to show you just what my services are worth.” He offered and she caught sight of him wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

A laugh caught Rae by the throat and she nearly choked on her coffee as she snorted. Coffee assaulted the back of her throat and splashed all over her computer screen from her coughing. Oh God she looked like an idiot. “Sorry.” She choked out as she put down her cup and desperately tried to get her breathing and hacking under control.

She looked up to see an empty seat where he had been. He was gone. She tried to insist to herself that she wasn’t sad or upset or anything even remotely like it. She was glad that she had her table to herself. The problem was that inexplicable feeling was instantly back. It was like an itch inside of her ear so deep there was no way to scratch it. She hadn’t realized but for those brief moments talking to this strange man, it had been gone. Now that he was missing it was back. She didn’t know what to make of that. It was like her skin was crawling, looking for something. Her eyes darted around the shop, without her permission, to see where he went.

“Don’t go dying on me, now.” His voice pulled her instantly to look next to her. “I know I’m funny but even I’m not that funny.” He joked offering her a napkin. She tried not to feel relieved seeing his face there smiling like he was hilarious. She reached up taking the napkin and wiped her face as he sauntered back to his seat and dropped himself haphazardly into it. 

“It just took me by surprise.” She insisted, not sure what to do with herself. Why was she so relaxed with this guy around? Why had it felt so cold when she had thought he left? 

All this was a lot to think about and she was supposed to be writing. She winced as soon as she looked at her screen and saw it covered in drips of coffee. That was going to be gross to write through all day. She wiped the screen but it just wiped streaks of cream and sugar across the surface.

“Everything ok there, kid?” His voice called for her attention again. Somehow the nickname, which should have been demeaning, didn’t set her anger ablaze again. It seemed so casual, almost natural. Not that the man in front of her could possibly be too much older than she was. She was in her mid thirties and would probably pin him at around forty, maybe younger.

She sighed in frustration at the streaks on her screen needing to be careful of the LCD screen but there was no amount of wiping that would fix this mess. “Fine it just– my screen is a mess now. So it looks like I won’t get any writing done. My publisher will love that.” She sighed, closing her screen probably a touch harder than she should have.

“Publisher?” He asked with a tilted head. He didn’t really look surprised, which surprised her. She could say he looked vaguely curious, but even that was too strong a word for the expression he was portraying.

“Yeah I um,I guess you could say I’m a writer. Or at least I wrote a book and it got published so, write.” She said instantly, self conscious. This was the part that always felt awkward and wrong. Plus it got two reactions, half the people were so excited they instantly wanted to be her best friend and get a free copy, the other half were patronizing and passed the words off as her  bragging. “Now I’m supposed to write the follow up.” She explained awkwardly. “It’s supposed to be a series.” She was babbling again. “About fairies.” She finished. 

God why couldn’t she have written about something so much cooler? Why wasn’t she writing about dragons or werewolves or even bigfoot! Why was it fairies? He would think she was twelve. Why the hell did she care what he thought?

“Fairies are cool.” His voice was so casual she couldn’t stop herself from looking up with what she was sure was a stupid, hopeful face. 

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not talking like two inches tall with butterfly wings or anything. They’re more like elemental forces. They’re mostly warriors and guardians. It’s not as dumb as it sounds, I swear.” She tried desperately to defend her book and let out an awkward laugh. She was trying not to give into the overwhelming shame and embarrassment she currently felt. 

She never talked about her novels to anyone that wasn’t her mother or her publisher. Even her dad hadn’t actually heard much about her book. She’d given him a copy of the first round of printing but it was still sitting untouched next to his armchair in California. This stranger actually looked interested though. Not even complimentary, not amused and mocking. He was just passively curious.

“What’s it called? I’d love to read it.” He said, taking a slow sip of his iced drink. Why was he drinking an iced coffee? It may not be fall yet but the colder weather had already stolen into the mountains enough that she needed a sweater.

“I have a spare copy at home. Maybe I could bring it to you tomorrow?” She offered.

“I can’t be here tomorrow.” Why was she disappointed by that? She nodded, refusing to let her face fall but either she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as she wanted to be, or he was more perceptive than average. “I work on call in the ranger outpost up in the national park. I’m on three days off two. But I’ll be here Friday? Maybe I can pick it up then?” he offered. “Buy you lunch to pay you back for it?” He looked hopeful. That was a surprise. The look in his eyes made it seem like he was holding his breath as much as she was.

“Sounds good. I’ll be here.” She agreed with a shy smile. Had she just agreed to a date? Three days from now she had agreed to a date! Maybe it wasn’t a date. Maybe he was just being nice.

“It’s a date.” He commented with a smirk. Ok so definitely a date.

“Yeah!” She shouldn’t be this excited. She was never this excited. She hated dating. Ever since she got dumped at her ninth grade ball for the class siren by the local captain of the jousting team. ‘Real life terms Raziel!’ she chastised herself. She wrote too much. It was the ninth grade semi-formal and the head cheerleader and the captain of the football team, whom she’d had no business dating anyway.

Her mom always warned her about getting too stuck in her stories. They were always telling her if she wasn’t careful she’d never come out. 

“You want me to see what I can do with that screen?” The man’s voice shocked her out of her self-reflection.

“Huh?” Rae shook her head blinking away the voices fighting behind her eyes and flashes of wings and gossamer. 

The man nodded his head to her closed computer. “Your computer screen. I might be able to clean it off.” He offered. “Can’t let you get behind because of my attempted murder.” He joked.

She laughed even though it wasn’t a good joke and nodded. “Sure.” she said, opening the lid. “All yours.” He took a napkin and pulled a bottle of water out of his satchel pouring a bit onto the end and ran it lightly over the screen. 

Rae watched in awe as the streaks cleared up and dried like he’d used one of her screen clothes instead of a napkin and water. “My hero!” She said with a smile looking over to see his brown eyes right next to her. He was close enough to her she could smell woods and smoke and see little lines decorating his face and disappearing into the thick hair of his beard. It was an alluring image to be sure. Almost made her forget to breathe.

“Liam.” His voice was deep and so sexy and horribly distracting. Clearly she was quiet long enough that he felt the need to clarify. “That's my name. Liam.” That woke her up.

“Right! Sorry! Rae.” She introduced in a rush. 

“Short for…?” He prompted. 

“Something horrible.” She informed flatly.

“It can't be that bad.” He insisted with a smile.

“It really is.”

“What Rachel? Rainbow? Ray of sunshine? Raymond?”

“Raziel.” She burst out if only to stop his insane guesses. She stopped short, her eyes going huge when she realized she had just said her most hated name to a total stranger.

“Hm interesting.” Was all he said. “See ya Friday, Raziel.” He said her name quietly with an impish smile. It was like he was keeping her name a little secret between them. Somehow it didn't sound quite so horrid coming from him which really was a magical thing for him to manage.

“See you Friday, Liam.” She couldn't fight the smile. Her phone started to buzz and she looked down seeing her mom's contact and huffed. Her mother could not know about this. That was not happening. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to stop thinking about it but just the image of her mother learning about the coffee shop forest ranger felt like a threat. A threat she didn’t have time to unpack right now. Those chocolate eyes and the feelings behind them would be unfolded at a later date. For now she had other beasts to battle.

“Hi mom!”

[elite-kawaii]

An interesting fact . . .

. . . about some gamers is: If they have to spend days doing a single thing on a game in order to finish it, eventually they will loose all interest in the game completely, basically it becomes boring and they wont want to play or bother with it any.

Im never going to get passed the stupid King Koco Trial in Sonic Frontiers! Was playing it almost everyday. Then I got to that freaking trial! Over and over and over just battling the same three bosses! Over and over and over looking up tips to beat them! Over and over and over hours and hours and hours a day just running out of rings and failing the trail! No matter what I tried, what tricks I used, my only reward getting told that I was a failure over and over and over! Yeah thats real fun Sega, I love getting told I still suck at playing my fave game franchise! Thanks for that!

Heck I even tried looking up ways to cheat at the stupid game! Which is something I never do! I got nothing! It got boring after a while and slowly I just stopped trying! Im just "not allowed" to see what the fuss was about that blue eyed Super Form or that one weird still shot I kept seeing of Sonic seemingly covered in digital corruption with his eyes looking weird and actually showing his fangs!

"Oh just look it up on YouTube then!" Google took control of my laptop and made it so I cant, so I cant even look the stupid game up there a watch it! I don't know why every single game has to be super Dark Souls hard nowadays and I have had it set to easy for most weeks now! I cant even get the island map fully opened in the last update. Maybe opening it up fully before starting the update would have helped with that, but knowing games now probably not.

Oh and I just love how they reset Sonic so he all the way back to level 1 again for this trail! Yeah because that really helps! I just love how they made all the leveling I did just a waste of time from my point of view! You know other games level the baddies with the player char, why couldn't that have been a thing here?! Oh wait the people who wanted a hard game wouldn't have liked that? Then they can either set it on hard mode or go find another freaking game then! You don't need to make a perfectly fine game super hard just because some players found it to easy or just add harder modes to it! There you go difficulty curve problem solved!

If theres any easy to do glitches that would help lay them on me I dont really care about playing the game fairly anymore, just finding out what happens would be nice, but if none come oh well. Though I know I just ranted about it, I don't much care about the game anymore, just saying I wouldn't mind finding out what happened though.

[this-thing-saved-me]

TMSM - Kinky Boots

During the pandemic, things were understatably bleak. I don't need to wax on about that.

I think one of my favourite things that popped up was YouTube channel called "The Shows Must Go On." Every weekend they posted a full show as a fundraiser for 48 hours.

This particular version of Kinky Boots was one of them.

I'd never watched the movie, hadn't tried the music outside of "The History of Wrong Guys" (because broad strokes on that one as a currently single lady, yep.)

I was wholly and utterly hooked within five minutes.

This is one of my "Get Back Up" songs. That self discovery that comes when you find a thing you're good at.

I watched it three times in the 48 hours it was available. I really should see if there's a legal way to acquire this recording, I just love it.

One of my favourite quotes from the show: "If you're on the wrong road, turn back." Even if you don't always think it's possible, there's always a way to turn back, regroup, and find a new way forward.

At least, that's been my experience so far with the major redirection my life took a few years ago. It's not been a consistently graceful process but it's "Step One" that gets you going.

The Shows Must Go One YT channel gave me something to look forward to every weekend when there wasn't much to get excited about. I'll forever be grateful to Andrew Lloyd Webber and co for making that happen and keeping the lights on for the musical theatre industry.

UPDATE - I can apparently own it on YouTube for $15 and now I know what I'm doing for the next two hours.

...

watching Logan because I haven't yet and I'm going to see Deadpool and Wolverine tomorrow and well.. priorities. But there is much glee over this discovery. Pretty sure YouTube is a safe bet for buying a digital version. Although let's be real, that's the same price we rented new releases for at the video store 15 years ago. The blurays anyway.

What was my point?

Kinky Boots. Incredible and life changing show. Go rent or buy it on YouTube now.

[sesmantelar]

where has the time gone? why have I not been journaling and pouring my emotions here? lately, I have been doing a lot of shadow work so I can stop being in denial and get to the root of all the issues I face. I ensure that I do it in my physical diary because someone somewhere or some website had mentioned how it encourages a deeper connection with the mind and body as opposed to just digital. I still want to update here regularly though. life has been whatever lately. i'm looking to get a stable/consistent job in my city so I can relax and stop doing these crazy long drives. I work here again tonight, which I am not looking forward to, but I'm allowing myself a nice easy and restful day to set me up for success later tonight. I really want to cancel the 4 hour shift tomorrow. I have zero desire to ever come back to this place if I had a say. and to be honest, outside of these final few shifts, I do not believe i'm going to be picking up here again unless I end up in extraneous circumstances again. it's time to put myself first even more, and than means maximizing ice, exercise, and me time aka working closer to home. this coming weekend, I have my first harp recital! my harp instructor is telling me to engage in positive self talk to get through this because I do not feel ready. but im going to do it. it's at a nursing home ironically, so hopefully this may lessen the sour taste I have and give me a positive outlook. im going to go for it, and if I mess up, at least I tried. I need to find an appropriate Dres for this event however. I'm planning on testing bronze and maybe canasta tango this week on the ice. I'[m also hopping back into my OMAD. the last two weeks had two dates. I went on a beach camping trip, and then I met up with the cute coworker I used to work with at that old hospital. both dates went well, and I am proud of myself for not allowing myself to get super attached to knowing the outcome of this situation. I give up trying to know everything and give it all to the universe. I no longer have control. however, I have a gut feeling something is going to come of the situation with the coworker. im trying to think of any new crazy updates but I don't think anything super monumental has happened lately. however, I do know that I have been in a bit of a slump again. my period came twice in a month, after bumping my protein intake up to around 170g. I'm at a point in my fitness journal where every. single. day. makes an aesthetic difference. some days, you can see my 11 line abs - other days I look soft and like a teddy again. I obviously ate out at the beach, and this new guy took me to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. and I have been having some wine lately. Im not forcing myself to not have it because I enjoy it, but it must fit into my macros for it to be a weekly thing. so I need to stage another mini intervention. it now seems that every single week is an intervention for me. number one I keep skating. my weekly lessons serve as a stark reminder about my progress or lack thereof during the week. number two I MUST START STAYING HYDRATED. I need to stop "leaving" It for work because it never happens and I know do not know the last time I drank enough water number three STRICT STRICT STRICT 170g protein 50 net carbs, calories below 1400, 22 hour fasting outside of dating! stay ready so you don't have to get ready number four attend the CODA meeting on Monday night in person! number five sign up for shifts this week and start catching your finances up number six MUST READ EVERY SINGLE DAY. FIRST THING I DO UPON WAKING UP. number seven get your manicure on Monday. for some reason, when every little thing about me is together, I feel much more together in the larger aspects of my life

stay ready so you don't have to get ready.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Get Lucky (S.R.)

Summary: The fire alarm in your apartment building goes off at 3AM after a pipe bursts in the middle of winter. You are soaked and you left your wallet in the apartment. You only (barely) know the FBI agent who lives in the building, but he offers to share his jacket, and eventually a hotel room, with you. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Strangers to lovers, only one bed trope, kissing, oral sex (female receiving), face-sitting, penetrative sex, protected sex (condom), implied weight for Reader (she wears his shirt/boxers) Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

There was supposed to be something romantic about winter nights in the city. The poorly maintained lighting was supplemented with colorful bulbs that caught every snowflake. Each frozen lattice refracted the light and littered the air with rainbows. For a few hours, while Washington, D.C. slept, the prismatic powder would cut through the smog.

There was usually a purity, a serenity to the city soaked in snow. But that night, as I stood in three inches of snow in already drenched slippers, I only had one thought regarding the world around me.

“It’s fucking freezing out here!”

My voice didn’t echo back to me, and instead dissipated into distant honking of an insistent fire truck slowly fighting its way through construction gridlock at 3am.

I hadn’t expected anyone to answer my cry, which had been borne out of frustration and apathy for everything around me that moment.

But someone did answer. And oh boy, did he piss me off.

“It’s actually only 35 degrees, so we’re 3 degrees off,” the man corrected what was an obvious hyperbole.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything to explain just how close this man had come to death. But when I finally turned and spotted the sleepy smile of my neighbor, I couldn’t help but soften at the sight. His eyes were barely open behind foggy glasses he’d thrown on in a hurry and he was swaddled in a chunky cardigan that must’ve been three times his size. It might as well have been a blanket.

A warm, cuddly, insanely soft looking…

“But in your defense, I think we’re close enough for it to count,” he interrupted as effortlessly as ever.

I smiled even though it felt like it should be impossible under the circumstances. Even though I couldn’t feel my ears that were suddenly burning as my face flushed with heat when I saw his eyes quickly scan my body.

“You were about 3 degrees away from getting your ass kicked,” I warned playfully.

He smiled. Then he made it worse.

“Yeah, it’s probably not the best ice breaker right now,” he snickered.

“Say one more cold thing, I dare you.”

With both hands in the air (in a very inviting way), he immediately conceded to my fury.

“Sorry!” he laughed through the surrender, “I’ll stop talking.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I grumbled, “It’s a nice distraction from the fact I can’t feel my toes.”

I looked down at the offending digits as if my glaring would make them any warmer. But it did nothing to make that contradictory burn any less painful when I’d tried to move them.

While I was trying to bend the laws of thermodynamics, however, my neighbor had decided to work within their confines to find a solution. One that consisted of him stripping off his comfy cardigan and baring his arms to the cold.

“Here,” he offered, holding out the knit fabric. “I don’t have anything for your feet, but I do have this.”

I suppose a better person would’ve refused at least once before they took it, but I was not a better person. I was a cold motherfucker standing in the snow with wet socks, so I snatched the cardigan without a single second’s hesitation. As I wrestled to put it on, I swore I saw him smile at just how eager I had been to wear his clothes.

Once I was settled, and a few degrees warmer thanks to his body heat, I sighed, “You’re a lifesaver. Aren’t you going to get cold, though?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m freezing,” he admitted bluntly enough that it made us both laugh. Then, to make me feel at least a little better about torturing the poor boy, he continued, “But I’m also not all wet, so…”

The thought was interrupted by the blaring fire engine horn as it barreled down the street to the building that was most definitely not on fire. The flashing lights illuminated similarly colored Christmas decorations, and I tried to find beauty in the free, albeit shitty, light show.

“Do you think they’ll let us back in tonight?” I wondered aloud.

“Probably, but… Not for a while,” he answered with that annoying honesty. “The pipe burst in your apartment, right? I saw the water.”

“Yeah. I’m basically Murphy’s Law personified.”

“Funny. That’s usually my line,” he chuckled.

While I probably should’ve been offended by how much joy he found in my misfortune, I couldn’t help but join him. There was little else to do when you found yourself half-frozen and swaddled in your cute neighbor’s cardigan that smelled like cinnamon and vanilla.

“Yeah? Tough. You’ve been out-bad-lucked,” I said before sticking out my tongue.

His eyes darted down to it with a startling speed. In the vibrant red light, I watched his lips part to make way for his own tongue sweeping over them. But before the fantasies got too far, he cleared his throat and shattered the moment.

“I’m probably going to go drive to the closest hotel. Did you want a ride?”

“I have a car,” I responded on instinct. After all, it wasn’t often that men offered a ride that didn’t come with ulterior motives. I was satisfied that I’d made the right decision in reacting quickly… until I started to run the mental checklist of where my essentials were.

It was only then that I realized just how badly I’d fucked up.

“… But my keys are upstairs,” I sighed before hanging my head in shame, “… and so is my wallet.”

I was convinced that the worst thing he could’ve responded with was pity, or some white-knight offer to save me from my own misfortune. But much to my chagrin — and in an odd, contradictory way, my delight — he responded in a different way.

He laughed.

“Wow… you really are unlucky.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are very punchable?” I squeaked back immediately, only for him to answer just as quickly, “No, usually they just hit me.”

“Well, now I just feel bad for you. Thanks a lot.”

Again, the self-assured grin he flashed might’ve been off-putting if he hadn’t been so damn charming at the same time. Still, it stoked my competitive spirit a little too well. How nice it would be, I thought, to wipe it right off his face. How sweet a sight it would be for him to be so overwhelmed that he could barely even manage to speak.

“What are you going to do, then?” he asked.

“What? About what?” I answered in the guiltiest possible way.

His eyebrows jumped in response to my quick and confusing reply, but he was kind enough to clarify nonetheless, “Is there someone you can call? A… boyfriend? Or something?”

Smooth move, neighbor boy.

“No, not really. My phone is also upstairs, probably under a foot of water.”

I wasn’t sure I could make it any more pathetic, but somehow, I managed.

“And truth be told, even if I had it I… wouldn’t know who to call. I just moved here a couple months ago and I don’t really leave the house much. Unlike you.”

The ever-attentive listener just nodded along in agreement. While I would normally call bullshit on someone else being as much of a hermit as I had been the past few months, I had already accepted that the strange man next door was anything but normal.

There was something comforting about him, which was hard to say about someone who looked so damn anxious all the time. But there I was, swaddled in his comfortable clothes while his shoulders were damp with snow that clung to unruly brown curls.

And that was the same moment that I realized something terrible.

“You’re basically the only person I know in D.C., and I don’t even know your name.”

I turned to find a contemplative look behind somewhat foggy glasses. There would only need to be a few seconds of silence longer before I wouldn’t be able to recover the embarrassment that was my own audacity.

“Isn’t that sad?” I asked, and he gave the most curious answer.

“Spencer,” he said.

“What?”

“My name is Spencer.”

It suited him. I couldn’t say why, but I knew it had. There was something equally soft about the way it sounded. I mouthed the name, imagining how easily it could roll off the tongue. I was too scared to say it out loud for fear of messing it up — that I wouldn’t say it well enough for the surprisingly bold, peculiar man with mismatched fuzzy socks shoved in slippers on a snow-covered sidewalk.

The same one who was looking at me with a barely put together smile as he chuckled, “Most people would say their name at this point. Unless it actually is Murphy. In which case, I think I’m being rude again.”

Through embarrassment and laughter, I finally offered, “My name is (y/n).”

Spencer responded with… a much more interesting offer.

“Okay, well, (y/n), would you like to come with me to the hotel?”

I’d heard of hearts skipping a beat, but I’d never felt it before that moment. I was half convinced it would stop altogether. Clutching my chest and choking on the word, I managed to ask, “W-What?”

“I know it sounds weird, and I really don’t want to freak you out, but I just really don’t like the idea of you being out here all night,” he explained in a rational, matter-of-fact manner. But behind that awkward monotone was a concern that I desperately wanted to be genuine.

One thing I’d learned about Spencer thus far was that, while he was an oddball, he was a perceptive one. He knew that I was weighing the pros and cons of following a near-stranger to a hotel room in the middle of the night.

And deciding to skip the scales… in some direction, he decided to blurt out, “I promise I’m not a serial killer. I’m actually the exact opposite.”

“What? A mother?”

“Come on,” he drawled, wisely choosing to avoid explanation and instead make more comforting promises. “You don’t even have to sleep. You can leave the door open and the lights on.”

“Oh, if I’m getting in a bed, I will be going to sleep. Even if you’re in it.”

“Oh,” he squeaked before falling suddenly, uncharacteristically silent.

My cheeks started to burn in the absence of his voice, as I had started to develop the sinking feeling that I had said something wrong. The only problem was that I had no idea why what I’d said deserved such a scandalous reaction, considering he was the one inviting me into a hotel room.

So, like a normal person, I asked, “What?”

Spencer cleared his throat, but even that didn’t seem to dislodge the lump in his throat. He tried again.

When that failed, he chose to answer with bright red cheeks and a weak, scratchy voice, “I-I mean… I was going to get two beds.”

“Oh. Yeah, duh!” I said much too loud and accompanied with an awkward, guilty laughter, “I mean, yeah, of course you did. I meant… the room.”

If my ineloquent rambling accomplished anything, it was convincing him that I was most certainly lying. But he must not have minded my perverted tendencies, because he was smirking like the cat that got the canary when he whispered back, “Right.”

“But I would kill for body heat right now, not gonna lie,” I responded to justify my previous — inaccurate — assumption. I’d expected him to return with his own flirtatious banter.

He chose… a different route.

“If you kill them they wouldn’t be very warm. At least not for long.”

“Dude, aren’t you supposed to be convincing me you aren’t a serial killer?”

Spencer just sort of shrugged as if to emphasize his point. And call me crazy, but I couldn’t help but find the whole thing insanely adorable.

Even when he whispered with a sudden shyness, “… Is that a no, then?”

“Ugh. I guess it’s a yes,” I said with a roll of my eyes that strongly contradicted the smile stretched across my cheeks.

Spencer let out a deep, satisfied sigh before he mumbled, “What every guy loves to hear from a pretty girl. A reluctant, begrudging ‘I guess.’”

Despite his words to the contrary, though, he looked downright pleased with himself when his hand found my lower back. Staying as gentlemanly as possible, he guided me through the crowd of our neighbors in the direction of the parking lot.

The silence would’ve been uncomfortable if it hadn’t been for the unending contact. Even when we finally made it to the beat up blue Volvo, he insisted on helping me into the car with hand in frozen hand.

The car roared to life, blasting cold air into the cabin and reminding me just how damp I really was. It strongly contrasted the way my body was burning in the two places he’d touched me, but I couldn’t let him know how fast I’d grown fond of his touch. So, naturally, I did what any girl would do.

I threatened him with violence.

“I will throw myself out of your car if you’re creepy.”

“Duly noted,” he agreed in stride.

I figured that he’d deserved at least a little bit of sympathy, considering I was still cozily settled in his cardigan while the poor thing was a chattering, shivering mess.

At the same time, I cursed him for somehow looking good while puffing hot breath into his closed hands. Those silly grandpa glasses fogged up immediately, but he didn’t let it discourage him from continuing whatever method he could of warming up any small part of him.

Deciding to be a little compassionate, I reached forward and grabbed his hands. He seemed surprised, or at least confused, for a couple seconds. That was, until I began vigorously rubbing my also freezing hands over the top of his. Then, he was just smiling. Beaming, really.

I had to do something to combat the overly affectionate way he was looking at me. Unfortunately, the best thing I could come up with was, “I’m sorry I’m going to make your car all wet.”

“Oh! Right,” he squeaked, not moving his hands from mine but throwing his head towards the backseat as he explained, “I uh, I have extra clothes in the back of my car if you… want to change when we get there.”

And then we were back to square one, with the both of us being way too nice to each other for strangers about to (potentially) share a bed.

Pushing his hands back towards the wheel, I moved my own to the heater now blasting lukewarm arm and pointed out casually, “That will not stop your car from getting wet, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to change now,” he drawled sarcastically. He waited until I turned a quirked brow to him before he explained, “You said you would throw yourself out of my car if I was creepy, and I’m pretty sure telling you to strip before I let you in is firmly in ‘creep’ territory.”

“How considerate of you,” I laughed.

For all the oddities about him, there was no denying that Spencer was clever. Cute, too, if I hadn’t made that obvious enough. His stature, held up with horrendous posture, reminded me of someone who would be easy to push around. But that dark undercurrent in his eyes told me the exact opposite.

Always brief, always fleeting — there was a darkness inside of him somewhere. And despite my curious nature, I had no intention of seeing that side of him that night. I was more interested in the more obvious. The compassion of a man who would give his only source of warmth to his dripping, cursing neighbor.

The warmth in hazel eyes was still obscured by the soft layer of fog borne from his cheeks. Now that we were away from the red lights of the fire engine, I could tell that he had been blushing after all.

He was peculiar, but charming. Maybe that explained why, of all the flirting and witty banter, he remembered one thing above all else.

“So you’ve lived here a few months and haven’t made any friends?”

Then, like it always seemed to happen with the two of us, he clarified the possible insult before I could bite his head off.

“I thought that only happened to me.”

“Ha. Yeah, we’re a match made in heaven, apparently,” I sighed.

Once again dedicated to correcting the most obvious of metaphors, he bounced his head back and forth for a second before he broke down and had to say something.

“Or hell, depending on how you look at it,” he decided.

But if he’d wanted to figure out which divine cosmic eternity we would end up in, I was more than happy to help him figure it out.

“I will crash this car,” I deadpanned. The apathetic show earned me a chuckle, which then broke into a more entertained laughter after another moment of silence.

“You’re very violent,” he muttered under his breath.

There was no worry that he’d been put off by the threats, though. If anything, he looked downright enamored with me when his eyes quickly jumped over to see if he’d made me smile.

He had. Arrogant little shit.

“Yeah, you better watch out,” I warned in an attempt not to let things get too chummy.

That time, he was happy to follow my lead.

“You know, I never stopped to ask. Did I agree to room with a serial killer?”

“Yep. And you’re going to pay for it,” I shot back a little too quickly for comfort.

So, I turned to him to reassure him, but he was already looking at me. Not just a glance this time, either — his stare was so full of wonderment that it actually made me choke on the clarification that made its way out, anyway.

“The room, I mean.”

“Of course,” he said with a curious little smile.

He said nothing else. Neither did I. Not because I hadn’t wanted to, but because I couldn’t quiet the butterflies swirling through my chest.

The drive was both regrettably and thankfully brief. Regrettable because I had the feeling that once we were actually in private, we would both lose our nerve. Nonetheless, I was thankful because I was pretty sure if he said one more clever, infuriating thing to me, I was going to jump him in the hotel lobby.

That fear did not wane in the slightest once we were there. The sterile, cookie-cutter lobby left much to be desired, but it was still a more romantic atmosphere than standing outside in the (not-quite) freezing cold. It was also the first opportunity for me to ogle him with impunity, albeit from a distance.

That night wasn’t the first time that I’d noticed him. It wasn’t the first time I’d wanted him, either. There had been many brief meetings that my mind had chosen to fixate on. Many fantasies to be weaved from small smiles and peripheral glances.

But as I watched him glance over at me between the awkward exchanges of information with the front desk, I realized that the reality was very different from the fantasy.

It wasn’t a bad thing. Just different. In fact, when he finally started to make his way back to me, I realized that I preferred this version of him. The real one.

The Spencer that was stumbling over his own words and fumbling even more awkwardly with the two keycards shoved into one envelope.

“So… I have some awkward news. It’s sort of funny, really, if you think about it. Fitting, too, considering the trend of your night—"

“There’s only one bed, isn’t there?”

A stiff, dejected nod was his only answer.

My response, however, was two-fold. With a cluck of my tongue, I shook my head and sighed, “Such a cliché.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whined, almost like he hadn’t realized just how excited the news had made me. He remained solemn and serious as ever while he continued to explain, “I even asked them if they had an extra cot but they just sort of shrugged, which… isn’t a very helpful reply.”

Oh, Spencer, I thought with a dreamy sigh he wouldn’t understand, What am I going to do with you?

“Hey, like I said, I’m sleeping in that bed whether you’re in it or not.”

That odd man continued to fidget but made no meaningful movement. I could see on his face how terrified he’d been that he’d made a number of mistakes to lead him here.

But even with the horrifying, soul-crushing awkwardness that was this situation, I still got the feeling that he had wanted this all as badly as I did. He was just too scared to make it known.

Different from the fantasies.

Better than the fantasies.

“Come on, I’m literally standing in a puddle.”

As I ushered him forward towards the general direction of the elevator, I didn’t hesitate to lock my arm with his. I greedily stole his body heat and bolstered both of our confidence with a boldness that couldn’t be ignored. And despite being drenched, exhausted, and nervous, I smiled.

Because contrary to what he’d believed, my luck was finally starting to turn around.

Despite the chill still emanating from my bones, I almost welcomed the cold porcelain floor of the hotel bathroom. That oxymoronic burn was the only thing keeping me grounded. Even the normally sterile smell of the building was lessened by the comforting aroma of vanilla and cinnamon that seemed soaked into Spencer’s clothing.

I pressed the impossibly soft shirt against my face and refused to feel guilty for it. I let the thought of his kindness and his innocence stoke the flames that had burst from the sparks of his smile. I swaddled myself in the well-loved clothing and imagined a world where this was a regular occurrence, rather than an odd circumstance of combined misfortune.

But just as my fingers began fiddling with buttons, I had a thought. Just the one. Lifting my head to look in the mirror, I saw the opportunity to make something more out of an otherwise pitiful night. There I stood, with his boxers tightly hugging my hips and his shirt resting gently on my shoulders.

Then, with not a single button done and the bare skin of my chest visible, I opened the door.

I didn’t leave at first. I just peeked my head out from the door until I spotted the man. His legs were bouncing so intensely that I could hear the sheets rustling below him. It felt wrong to bother him, but I knew that — if I played my cards right — he would appreciate the distraction.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yeah?” he answered faster than should be humanly possible. His head turned just as quickly, his eyes landing on me with perfect precision like he’d manifested the moment through sheer force of will.

“Could you help me?” I asked, and he found nothing odd about the request. He’d had no reason to. Not yet.

Not until I stepped out into the light.

“With wh—?”

The poor thing had only barely stood from his seat before he fell back down. His legs, once shaking, were now paralyzed in place. His eyes were also frozen as I’d been a few minutes earlier.

“My fingers are still numb, and the buttons are hard to get,” I explained.

Spencer didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at me with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. When he was able to compel himself to move, to do anything other than ogle a mostly naked woman, he was unsuccessful. His stare merely became affixed on the space above my fingers that loosely held the shirt shut.

Taking his silence as something akin to acceptance, I took a step forward. Then, when he didn’t object, I took another, and another. I didn’t stop until my thighs were resting gently against his knees.

It was then I realized that his legs actually were still moving, just in a different way than before. In fact, his whole body was filled with energy.

That poor, sweet thing was trembling.

“Spencer?” I called.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, sure. I can…” he started with a stumbling tongue and his pitch growing higher with each syllable. “I can help b-button your shirt… which is… my shirt… on you.”

I almost felt bad about it, too. I almost felt bad for torturing him when he’d been nothing but sweet to me. But the rest of me felt something else; something powerful and encouraged by the deep red shade creeping up his neck.

“Thanks!”

To his credit, though, his hands were surprisingly skillful. It took me a second to remember that it had been his shirt, after all. But for all his ability, he seemed to be taking his time. Starting at my stomach, he slowly made his way up to more dangerous territory. I couldn’t blame him for being afraid to touch me there just yet.

Which was why it was particularly odd to me that he hadn’t shrunk away. If anything, he’d grown closer. Then, with one swift and powerful tug on the sides of the shirt, he almost succeeded in pulling me straight onto his lap.

But just before my knees buckled, I caught myself. My arms wrapped around his neck and my hands grabbed the mousy brown curls that were far softer than I ever could’ve imagined.

Soft like his shirt, soft like his eyes, and his smile. Soft like everything about him.

I thought that I’d figured him out, but I had been wrong. Because the next time he spoke, it was quiet, but it was anything but soft.

“Interesting,” was all he’d said.

When he didn’t expand on the thought, it was my turn to be nervous.

Without releasing my hold on him, I made the only sound I felt capable of making and hummed, “Hm?”

His answer came, swift and playful and sending a chill down my spine.

“You lied.”

At the same time as the words hit me, his pointer finger dipped beneath the fabric of the shirt. He dragged his knuckle down my sternum like a dare, and I realized that I’d dramatically underestimated his ability to be something other than soft.

There was something sharp, something dark in his stare when he slowly leaned back against my hands tangled in his hair. He smiled while my heart beat hard enough that I was sure he could feel it against his finger still roaming the bare skin of my chest.

Then, he chuckled, “Your hands aren’t cold at all.”

I had been caught.

But I had not given up.

His words were issued like a dare, and so, I accepted it. Filled with spite and a little bit of embarrassment, I stole back the power by taking his lips with my own. I kissed him and was met with no resistance.

He was every bit as sweet as I’d hoped he would be. Even though his glasses bumped against my nose, I didn’t hate the feeling of cold metal and foggy glass. I welcomed every part of him, including his hands as they left my chest in favor of my waist.

Spencer hoisted me onto him the best he could, but it was never going to be graceful. It was silly and messy and fun the entire time we struggled to find our way to the top of the massive king-sized bed.

We never really made it, either. We made it as far as we’d needed to and abandoned any unnecessary effort. But our ideas of necessary clearly differed. Because as soon as I pulled away from him, his hands were quick to bring me back in for another kiss.

Hot, heavy breath filled the little space between us with a gentle dew that our tongues would forever chase after. His was more adventurous than mine, but I didn’t mind. It was hard to feel anything but lust when he’d begun his descent down my neck. Still, the goosebumps raised, our bodies on high alert from something entirely different from the cold.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. Each time he kissed me, each whimper and moan against my skin felt like fire in my veins. I had to do something to hurry him along because I wasn’t convinced my frozen bones would be able to handle the blaze. I would choke on the steam before we ever got a chance to feel the unique kiss of ice and fire.

I tore myself away despite his insistence. To my surprise, and disappointment, he was more willing to let me go than I’d hoped. Then again, it was hard to be upset when he didn’t let the new position stop him from worshipping whatever was in front of him.

Trying my hardest to ignore the steady line of kisses he was laying down my stomach, I reached for my purse on the bedside table. I was on a mission that I knew he would thank me for later, the same as I would thank him for the cool trail of spit he left behind on heated skin.

As soon as I’d managed to dig the condom from my purse, however, Spencer decided he was also tired of waiting. Boxers be damned, he didn’t let the fabric stop him from wrapping his arms around my hips. Then, with another quick, impossibly powerful motion, he brought my hips down to bury his face between my thighs.

The gasp that he’d elicited was nothing compared to the deep, rolling moan that followed as he puffed hot breath against the flimsy fabric. His lips continued their motions, his tongue still swirling despite the barrier. He paid it no mind because we could both still feel it. The quickly growing dampness that threatened to bring me crumbling down before I’d ever had a chance to even touch him.

As hard as it was, I had to stop him. Exactly like before, he whined as I left him, but he still let me go. I couldn’t help but laugh when I did look down. Spencer’s glasses were crooked and had completely fogged over from the sudden change in temperature as he stayed begging and whimpering between my legs.

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest, most pathetic little thing,” I cooed as I reached down to pull his glasses off. I’d done it for no reason other than missing the sight of soft caramel eyes.

But I had not been prepared for what I would find. That dazed, lovesick stare filled with desire for more.

“Please. Please let me,” he begged, all the while pawing at the clothing keeping us apart. He could have pulled the boxers down if he’d tried, but he stubbornly waited for permission. Until then, he continued with his pitiful pleading, “It’s not fair to tease me like that. I want to make you feel good, please.”

The sound was like music to my ears. I had no reservations about my answer.

“By all means,” I sighed happily, “go right on ahead.”

But for the second time that night, I realized that I had underestimated Spencer. His response to permission was as quick and strong as ever. His arms, still wrapped safely around my thighs, exerted even more force to pull me right where he’d wanted me.

I was barely able to follow his instructions fast enough for his liking, but eventually, I fell back onto the bed with a light bounce. Like inertia of the best kind, Spencer jumped up from his spot and tore the boxers — his boxers — down my legs until there was nothing else in his way.

And at first, I just laid there, rubbing my legs together and waiting for him to pry them apart again. But that wasn’t what he’d done. Instead, Spencer grabbed hold of me and used his entire body weight to pull me back on top of him.

It wasn’t until then, when my trembling arms were resting besides his head, that I’d realized what he wanted. His hands, strong and broad across the back of my thighs, he urged me closer.

I obeyed, forgetting for a moment that I was supposed to be the one in charge. But the eager boy below me was more than happy to give up control. The closer he came to his treasure, the more his body squirmed with energy.

There was still a softness about him. Still something gentle, something sweet in the way he peppered my thighs with light kisses when I was finally close enough to touch. Insistent hands remained on me at all times, although they roamed the space more freely.

It almost felt like he was memorizing each inch of me before he’d moved on to the next. But before I knew it, he was ready. Applying pressure to the small of my back, he pulled me down.

At first, I hesitated. I hovered above his face and I tried to will my body to stop shaking. But the sudden shock of the heat after coming in from the cold made every puff of his breath burn.

One of my hands found his fluffy hair once more. The other, however, sought out the headboard. It would turn out to be the smartest decision I’d made all night, because not soon after I’d grabbed it had he begun.

The same tongue that had been lovingly tracing my folds through clothing returned, this time unimpeded by the fabric. This time, it wasn’t a gasp that escaped, but a sob. I could already feel my stomach knotting and my chest filling with butterflies, and he’d barely touched me.

Because it wasn’t just the physical touch, but the obvious enthusiasm behind it. Although he tried so hard to be gentle, he couldn’t help but grip me tightly. He noticed my fear about crushing him and chose to put an end to the insecurity once and for all. Using all his remaining strength, he pulled me down.

I had no clue how he was able to breathe, but it seemed like the least of his concerns. Even with the crushing force of my weight, he moaned as he laid open-mouthed kisses at the small bundle of nerves at my crest. With his whole body, he urged me to continue on to new levels of pleasure.

He wouldn’t stop until my hips were rocking and my hands were gripping tight enough that I swore I’d splinter the wood. I still tried to give the poor thing room to breathe, but each time there was space between us, he’d close it again. I could feel the bridge of his nose digging against my pubic bone, and every time it would make my legs start to shake again.

It was that enthusiasm, that unadulterated love and worship that would cause me to fall apart. When that tension started to build, I finally allowed myself to follow his obvious direction and let go.

I didn’t bother worrying about him because I knew that he would be alright. I could still feel him, burying his tongue inside of me and lapping at the juices smeared between my legs. I felt that desire, that unending need to please me, and I gave in to his begging.

Spencer welcomed my orgasm with a similar fervor, moaning while he lavished my most sensitive point with all his worship. Even when he’d felt my body relax, he continued. He didn’t even hesitate to start all over again, no matter the fact that I was practically suffocating him. He practically welcomed an end between my thighs.

But I wasn’t done with him yet. I was only getting started.

Somehow, I managed to gather enough effort to pry his hands off my hips and throw myself off him. Still, he once again whimpered at the loss. I turned to him as soon as I could, happy to catch a sated smile between each attempt he made to taste me again. He wiped his face clean, but still carefully cleaned each finger between his heavy breaths.

Our eyes met again during his shameless indulgence, and his smile grew wider at the sight. He inched closer, his lips seeking mine for a kiss far more tender than the kind I quickly growing used to.

Again, I gave into his begging. I kissed him back and tasted myself on his tongue. The heady, intoxicating scent of me on his skin made the throbbing ache between my legs even more obvious. And for the first time, I allowed myself a chance to consider the bulge in his pants.

I pressed my thigh hard against him until I heard him squeak. I continued to grind my leg until he moved — a gentle thrust against my leg that demonstrated exactly what I’d needed to know.

“Take off your clothes,” I ordered the second he’d opened his eyes.

He’d already started before the words had even left my mouth. I watched with rapt fascination at how his hands were still quick and his eyes were still burning, still sticking to me like soft caramel and the cinnamon he smelled of.

I was so distracted by the way he looked in the dim, golden light, that I’d almost forgotten the second order I had. Once his pants were off, I floundered until I found the foil wrapper I’d dropped on the bed during his pleading. I held it up with two fingers, and issued another simple order.

“Put this on.”

His answer was not what I was expecting. Not a no, but certainly not an answer as enthusiastic as I’d been hoping for.

It was a fucking tease.

“You really think you can keep going?” he chuckled.

And despite the way exasperated chuckles floated between my words, it was no laughing matter.

“Oh, you did not just say that,” I gasped.

If it had been his intention to encourage me back into power, it had worked. That competitive spirit reared its head again. I drew from every reserve left in me and I climbed atop him again. This time, I also permitted myself the opportunity to ogle him as shamelessly as he’d done to me.

But I still found myself fixated on his eyes, which were in turn following each line of my body. His hands that had been busy searching my skin for some unknown answer were still there, gently running fingertips and knuckles anywhere that he hadn’t felt yet. He sought out the shivers and goosebumps until I caught his hand in mine.

Then, he looked up at me. Again, he smiled something soft.

“Spencer, believe me when I say that I intend on paying you back for that ride,” I assured him, but he was still not taking it seriously.

“Which one?” he snickered, instead.

I stopped trying to hide my laughter. I just leaned into it, leaned forward until I was close enough to feel dewy breath on my lips.

“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered without doing what he’d so obviously wanted. Even when he tried to chase after my lips, I refused.

That frustration eventually came to be too much for the pathetic boy’s heart, and in a moment of weakness, he issued a dare he wasn’t ready for.

“Make me.”

“Oh, Spencer,” I whispered with a low voice laced with a promise, “Nothing would make me happier than to render you totally and completely speechless.”

To prove my point, I knew exactly what I’d needed to do. Reaching a hand down, I wrapped one firmly around his dick. The slippery latex aided me in slow, strong strokes down his length. And immediately, any hint of opposition left him.

“Not so bratty now, huh?” I teased.

His lungs emptied with a broken sob that turned into a drawn out whine. It still sounded as beautiful as ever, and I found myself seeking out those sounds with a newfound vigor. The energy and color returned to him, too. His cheeks began to flush from pink to scarlet. I wanted to paint him with every color I could, but I would need my hands to do just that.

Slowly, and with utmost care, I began to lower onto him. All the while, I made sure that his half-lidded eyes stayed locked on mine. I didn’t want to risk missing the moment when the head of his cock breached my entrance. I wanted to watch those sweet brown eyes roll back and his sneaky, devilish tongue peek from between his lips as he tried to stop himself from finishing so soon.

“Tell me how it feels,” I whispered. I should’ve known better than to dare the man to speak, but I’d missed his voice too much to be upset by the sound of it.

Especially when he was still panting when he blubbered, “Y-You feel even better than you taste.”

Then, continuing the trends from earlier in the night, he dug his fingers into my hips and dragged them down as he begged, “Please. Please, fuck me.”

It was such a sweet, humble request that I’d felt compelled to follow it. I spared him the torture of anticipation and dropped my weight on him once again. This time, it wasn’t his tongue, but something much more appealing that was buried between slick folds. The wet heat still felt like steam and fire, even though my body wasn’t cold anymore. Nonetheless, I threw myself into the fire without hesitation. My hips would rise, and his would follow.

In an effort to get him to relax the same as he’d done for me, I pressed two hands against his chest and sat up straighter. Immediately, his eyes lit up with an adorable adoration that would quickly fade when he’d realized my plans.

I had wanted to paint him with as many colors as possible. That was why I drew crescent marks into his chest with my nails. Spencer didn’t protest, and in fact thrust into me harder in response. He urged me on with eyes and body alike. So, using my nails like brushes, I drew angry welts on an empty canvas until I could make something out of the mess of pink and red.

“Fuck!” he shouted when he couldn’t keep it in any longer. The exclamation was quickly followed by whimpers that strongly contrasted the filthy sounds between us.

He’d sounded so pitiful that I couldn’t help myself from drawing it out. The next time my hips fell, I stayed with him fully inside me. Grinding down with wide circles, I used some of the same fingers that had tried to draw blood to do something else. Something soft.

I traced bulging veins across his temple. I followed the sharp angles of his jaw all the way down to his neck. There, I pressed the pads of my fingers against his pulse and felt how it shifted the longer my palm was pressed against his throat.

But even through that pressure and delirium, he managed to croak, “You’re so amazing.”

And although I’d been satisfied by the praise, which had no hint of brattiness left, I’d still held a grudge for his earlier flippancy. I wanted to torture him the same way he’d tortured me with kindness and quiet longing. Because if I hadn’t made a move, who knows what we would have done that night instead?

I had a feeling we always would have ended up there, though. That was why I giggled when I asked, “Is that why you wanted to get me alone?”

“Please,” he whimpered in response.

“You were hoping that I would let you touch me?” I taunted before immediately beginning to lift my hips. The cool air tickled at the burning heat between us, and I felt every muscle in his body tense as he tried not to chase me.

He stayed put, like a good boy, gripping the sheets like a vice and throwing his head back to bare his throat to me once more.

“Please, let me,” he blubbered. I could barely understand him through the begging that seemed never-ending.

“Please,” he said, “Please.”

I dragged it out just a few minutes longer. I listened to the song-like quality of his desperation and rejoiced in the feeling of him filling the empty space between my thighs.

But eventually I missed the sweetness of his lips. I leaned forward until our lips collided together, sloppy, imprecise and entirely perfect. My exhausted arms shook, but still found the energy to slip under his pillow.

His hands didn’t hesitate for even a second. He welcomed me into the fiery embrace and buried his face in my shoulder. Even his hips had stopped. All his attention was focused on the simple task of holding me until I gave into his pleading one more time.

“Go ahead, pretty boy,” I whispered in his ear.

That elusive, ever-shocking strength brought us together again. Although, it felt different that time. The enthusiasm remained, but so did the softness. Even when I called his name, he quieted me with a kiss that was gentle enough to make goosebumps ripple over my skin.

“Spencer,” I whined when he began fucking into me hard enough that I could hear the headboard knock against the wall. But he was too focused, too enthralled with the power and the possibilities that he barely registered his name on my tongue.

“Spencer,” I said louder.

That time, he’d heard me, but it had done nothing to dissuade him. In fact, he went harder, seeking out that sound again and again and again.

I gave it to him, over and over, each time he forced himself to the hilt and held me down against him. I focused on nothing but the feeling of being full of him. The friction of sweat slicked bodies that never got enough of each other.

“I’m…” he struggled, the words breaking with gasping breath, “I’m gonna…”

We didn’t need the words to know what was coming. We could feel the steady beating of hard working hearts as they echoed in our bones. His hands kept me steady, kept me with him as his hips continued. It was my turn to find shelter in him, to press soft kisses against his neck until we were both ready. We both held on until I gave him the permission he sought.

“Do it,” I begged, “Come for me.”

I’d said it just in time to feel him twitching from deep inside of me. Despite the latex between us, I still felt the heat of him grow until I joined him in the euphoria. My arms pulled myself closer and a moan poured from my chest until it rumbled against his neck.

Although I couldn’t look him in the eyes as he came undone, I had no regrets. I basked in his warmth, treasuring these few moments where I got to feel the comfort of his embrace. In that quiet moment, I realized that it had been so long since I’d felt at home with someone like that.

So, I clung to him the same as the soaked clothes when we first spoke and I hoped that he wouldn’t want to discard me as quickly. But in the end, it was me that climbed off of him. I grabbed his glasses before I’d crushed them under my weight and I wiped the foggy lenses clean before I turned to the man half-asleep beside me.

“Hey Spencer?” I slurred.

He turned to look at me, and his eyes still burned with something pure, something innocent. Something soft as the hands that reached out to take his glasses.

“Thanks,” he mumbled with a laugh.

“You’re welcome,” I sighed. And although I was a coward, and my breath had barely evened out again, I felt compelled to explain to him the real reason I’d abandoned his embrace.

“Hey Spencer?” I called again, only to find that he was still staring at me, albeit now with more clarity.

“What?”

He’d said it so innocently that I couldn’t help but laugh. Because at that moment, I realized two things. One was that I really needed to stop underestimating that strange, soft, pathetic thing. And the other was best shared with an incredulous laughter at our luck of finding each other on such a cold night.

With a dramatic groan, I shouted, “It’s so fucking hot in here!”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[360iris]

Wanna Be Down (George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley)

Warnings: Pure smut! She/her pronouns for the reader! No funny business between the boys I promise! There’s bound to be some typo that I missed, sorry ‘bout that!

Word count: 1,628

Summary: There’s a birthday, a bunny costume and The Twins... What could go wrong?

A/N: This was originally meant to drop on their birthday, April 1st... I’m 28 days late for that but hey, better late than never! It’s been collecting dust for the entire time and I wanted to set it free. I hope someone enjoys it!

“You want me to- to wear a bunny outfit and have the two of you…” You faltered nervously, the words seemed foreign on your tongue.

“-fuck you in it.” Fred finished for you with a wide grin, as if this was the most in the ordinary activity to plan.

The twins wanted to sleep with you? This was the first you’d heard of it, that’s for sure. And though the thought sent waves of excitement through your body, the prospect was daunting.

You’d been friends since diapers, a meager six hours separating your births. And whether the bond that formed later was predetermined by fate, or by pure chance, it was wholly indestructible.

Through the years, the three of you operated perfectly insync. Remaining quite persistently glued at the hip; completing every task deemed worthy enough as an odd unit.

There was an unspoken rule that each of you would make sure that the others felt equally included in activities.

So why should taking your virginity be any different?

“We’ll be twenty in a few hours, Y/N. Don’t you want to kick off the new decade with a bang?” George asked, his face genuine and voice laced with just the right amount of sweetness. He always did know how to persuade you into going along with Fred’s crazy schemes.

“Quite literally in this instance.” Fred added cheekily and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Both of you have had sex before though. Plenty of times in fact! You told me about it afterwards! In vivid detail at that! Why are you so worried about me now?” Your brows were furrowed, lips turned downwards in a pout.

Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you tugged one of the many pillows on your bed into your lap. Squeezing it tighter when you met their gazes again.

Fred had his hands tucked into his jean pockets, happy as ever. He acted as if it was only a matter of time before he’d get the answer he wanted.

George on the other hand, at least looked like he was having a conversation with you; and not like he was just waiting for you to realize you’d never actually said no to them before. His eyes were soft, assessing your demeanor before approaching your spot at the foot of the bed.

“You know you’re our favorite girl. Don’t you, Y/N?” He questioned and you suddenly felt smaller looking directly up at him. Ginger waves caressing his cheeks and pooling at his shoulders.

“I mean- I suppose.” You replied dumbly.

“Who do we always come back home to?” He asked again, his left hand lifting up from his side to comb through your hair. The pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as they went.

“Me.” Your answer was hushed, though it was only the three of you in the flat. They’d closed the shop downstairs hours ago.

“And who trails after me as much as she can during the day, practically jumping into my lap the first opportunity she gets?” His voice was getting lower and his gaze remained fixed to you, you tried your best not to squirm.

“M- Me.”

“Lastly, whose the babygirl that slips into my bed at three in the morning because she stays up too late and gets scared?” He was teasing you now, you knew it, but still gave him a reply.

“Me, George.” Both of his hands were cupping your face now, fingertips laced in your hair, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“So when I ask my favorite girl to put on the outfit I picked out for her, so I can make her feel good on her birthday, what do you think I want to hear back?” A single brow arched as he waited for your answer, ignoring Fred’s quiet “I helped choose it too, y’know.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrists, you thought about all the times he and Fred had slept with other girls. How deep down you’d wished they’d looked at you the same way.

He allowed you to remove one of his hands, a dark smirk splitting across his face when you’d slowly brought it between your legs. Only coming to a stop when he was cupping your heat.

“I think- I think I’ve been holding out for you.” It was no higher than a whisper, but it’d been the truth nonetheless. He smiled wider at this confession, leaning in and pressing a light kiss on your forehead.

“All the more reason not to disappoint.” He responded, you faintly registered rustling from behind him.

“Y/N, dear?” Fred called.

“Hm?”

“Time to put the outfit on.”

It’d been relatively easy to slip into the get-up. The bodysuit, wrist cuffs and neck piece fitting like a glove.

“When did you get my measurements?” You asked, looking down at yourself.

“Since when have we not had your measurements?” Fred laughed, pulling you onto the bed with him until your back was flush against his chest. Your head comfortably leaning back on his left shoulder.

George following after you, settled for sitting up in front of you, his knees digging into the pink duvet.

“The ears are a nice touch.” He remarked with a pleased smirk. “Don’t you agree, Fred?”

“Absolutely. All white suits her.” He replied matter-a-factly, hands already roaming your torso. Ghosting over your exposed thighs, he hooked a finger under the bikini line of the bodysuit and let it snap back into place. Your hips jutted outwards at the impact.

“Want to hear you ask for it, Y/N.” George was palming your calves, making you feel small again.

“What do you want me to say?” Your brows furrowed curiously at the request, breath hitching when he utilized his grip to pull you further down Fred’s chest. Your ankles eventually hooking against George’s shoulders.

“Want him to play with your little cunt, don’t you baby?” Fred asked from above you, heat rushing to your face at his words.

“Y- Yeah.”

“Then ask, darling.” He grinned at your eyes widening as you met his gaze upside down.

Turning your attention back to George, you absentmindedly bit at the end your thumb nervously. Sure you’d used curse words like anyone else in the world, but the thought of actually asking the twins to fuck you was on a level you’d never thought you’d reach.

“Georgie?” You tried carefully.

“What is it, baby?” He replied softly, a smile playing on his lips, patiently waiting.

“Want- Want you to make me feel good.”

“How?” He prompted, delighting in your fidgeting. Fred however wasn’t feeling as patient, sending a soft smack to your inner thigh.

“Don’t have all day, bunny.” He chided, slowly massaging the site.

“Want your cock, Georgie.” You finally relented, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in your hands, but you feared being spanked again by Fred. 

George rewarded you with a kiss, palming your clit through the material. He swallowed up every whimper that escaped your lips, only answering by expertly thumbing the area faster. 

“Let’s see how wet you are, bun.” Fred whispered, pulling the bodysuit aside to reveal your heat. Running a finger through your folds, he promptly brought it to your mouth. Smirking widely when you began meekly sucking at the digit.

“I’m gonna get you ready, okay sweetheart?” George asked, mouthing at your neck. He didn’t move until you garbled something close to “okay” through Fred’s fingers sadistically pressing down your throat.

Armed with plenty of lube, the first finger sliding into you felt like nothing. By the third, he resorted to distracting you by rubbing your bud to ease the initial stretch. Although nothing could have prepared you for how uncomfortable taking his tip was.

It was a slow process, full of the boys tenderly guiding you to breathe deeply and relax your muscles. With the abundance of their attention focused on outweighing the discomfort with pleasure, eventually the mild pain began to blur around the edges. 

The level of satisfaction that rolled over you when you’d finally reached the hilt was like no other. 

“Good girl.” Fred purred into your hair as George wiped away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “Took it like a champ, didn’t she, Georgie boy?”

“Sure did, Fred. Squeezing me so nicely too.” He replied smiling proudly.

“Full- So full.” You whimpered blearily, not sure which boy you were grasping for. Each accepted one of your wandering hands, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl. How about you let me make you feel good now, hm?” George’s voice was gruff as he patiently waited for you to nod back in response.

Soon the discomfort had melted away, leaving only the easy slide of George’s length and the gratification of being engulfed between the loves of your life. 

You promptly got lost in the jumble of mouths, hands and pleasure. 

“Gonna come for us, love?” George asked, holding your hips done to focus his thrusts. 

“Can I- Can I, please? Please let me come!” You whined desperately, unable to distinguish whose hands belonged to who.

“Go ahead, bunny.” George answered and it was all you needed to hear. Your visioned blurred as your toes curled, the only thing you could register was that he was fucking you through it. Fred’s fingers circling your clit didn’t let up until you were pathetically trying to pull at his wrist.

A weak mewl fell from your lips as George pulled out of you spent. Simpering under his praises, you closed your eyes. 

The sudden smack against your face was sobering, leaving you blurrily blinking up at Fred’s eager grin.

“I hope you didn’t think you were off the clock, bun.”

[letterstotheflre]

my drug is my baby

summary: sirius is glad he was patient enough with you and takes part of what he has been craving most

warnings: daddy kink, a smidge of religious references, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering and oral sex (fem receiver), innocence/corruption kink

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this now but i think it’s because i read it too many times, idk || i think it's a universal experience to not being able to cum from your own fingers... right?? and we all know that sirius has a crying kink... also i think it’s so hot when they make you thank them for letting you cum, sue me!!

Sirius Black liked to believe he was a patient man when he needed to be.

He was known for being reckless, always jumping into the next adventure without much thought, ready to follow James wherever he went. Most of the time he spoke without thinking, especially if he knew his comments would make his parents red with rage. Sometimes he didn’t even mean what he said, he just spewed whatever progressive or controversial opinion he had in hopes of making his mother’s heart stop beating.

He revelled in making rash decisions, somehow always ending up being benefited by them. He never gave much thought to anything: always doing his homework last minute yet somehow still getting top marks, taking some jokes too far, never taking into consideration other people’s safety unless they were close friends.

Some may call him selfish, but he liked not having to put too much thought into every single action. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing and being punished or worse, Regulus taking the beating for him. But now that he finally escaped the Black family, he enjoyed the freedom that came with leaving Grimmauld Place.

He enjoyed breaking rules and creating chaos. It made him feel mighty, knowing he had the power to make all of those choices, still coming out on top, and see how they affected certain people. Most applauded him, revered him for being so spontaneous and adventurous; others couldn’t stand him, complaining about his mean jabs and sometimes harmful pranks.

Yet he knew how to wait for the things he deemed important or worthy. He knew that it was best to wait for Euphemia’s cherry pie to cool down before eating it, to wait for three days after the full moon to make a werewolf joke to Remus, to wait a few hours after James lost a Quidditch match to suggest a quick trip to The Three Broomsticks. And he knew it was best to wait for you.

Good things come to those who wait, that was his mantra. Of course, most of his restraint when it came to you was because he cared deeply about you and your comfort, but his conscience also drove him to keep his hands to himself. Every time his hands were about to go under your skirt, every time he heard your breathy moans when he kissed your neck, every time you looked at him with pouty lips begging for a kiss and his fingers craved to squeeze your neck, he took a step back. He felt so guilty for tainting something that in his mind was so pure, so he just held you close and peppered your face with kisses until you giggled.

But the thought of you being so untouched and how bashful you looked when he teased you or someone made a sexual comment made him want to ruin your innocence. Something inside him craved to see you tainted, to have you writhing under him as he rolled his hips against yours while you clutched his shoulders. He wanted to take that holiness you had and turn it into something so sinful that there was no way for you to ask for redemption.

And when you opened the door and took the first step, who was he to deny you?

He dragged everything out. Since the day when he taught you how to touch yourself, he wanted to make you wait for every sexual act that followed. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg him for some relief.

So today during a lecture when you looked at him with glazed over eyes and begged him to help you relieve the strange ache you felt in your stomach since you woke, he decided to be benevolent and give you some relief. He swiftly moved his hand under your skirt (thanking God that most of your closet consisted of that particular piece of clothing and dresses) and pushed aside your underwear before his fingers made way between your dripping folds. He didn’t enter you, just played with your clit until you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle your moans.

But when you whispered a small “thank you, daddy” and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, the only thing he wanted to do was take you back to his room and press you to the bed until your legs shook and tears ran down your cheeks. His eyes quickly scanned the classroom to make sure no one saw or heard anything, shoulders tense because of your words. All he could see were students with their own glassy eyes as they listened to whatever the professor was talking about. Fucking tease, Sirius thought.

And now, as he watched you on your knees and clutching his leg, lips pouty and cheek nuzzling his jean covered thigh, he was thankful for being patient enough.

“Please, Sirius, they’re back,” you said. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but played dumb as one hand petted your hair. “What’s back, baby?”

“The tingles,” you explained.

“And you need me to fix it, hm?” A small taunt was evident in his tone. “Your hands aren’t enough anymore, right bunny?”

Your cheeks warmed up at the implication, nevertheless, you shook your head. You still managed to make yourself cum, but the way Sirius could play with your clit like an experienced musician and how his big hands moved your hips along his jean covered leg would never compare to your dainty digits. The thought of his big fingers inside of you was enough to increase the tingles, and your hands pressed down on your stomach trying to soothe the pain.

“Please, Sirius, it hurts so bad,” you whimpered.

“Use your words, angel. Be good,” he said. You looked up at him with watery eyes, your mind already slipping and not letting you form too many coherent thoughts. “Please, daddy,” you sniffled.

He kept petting your head. “What do you want, angel?” He asked, looking almost bored with the situation as he listened to your pleads. “Anything,” you whined.

He shook his head, mocking disappointment. “You know you have to ask for what you want, puppy.” Even though he wasn’t angry, honestly a little amused at your desperation, his voice was stern, trying to engrave his rules in your fuzzy brain.

Your hands squeezed his leg, “I need you… down there.”

“You need to be clearer.''

You closed your eyes. You hated being so crass, but Sirius certainly had no qualms about it. “I need you… in my pussy,” you got out. But it wasn’t enough, not for Sirius who longed to ruin every aspect of your innocence. “What do you want, baby? D’ya want my fingers or my tongue?”

“Both,” you whined. Bingo, he thought with a dark smirk that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you weren’t absolutely drenching and desperate for his touch. “Up you get, puppy,” he said, “lay on the bed f’me.”

You got on the bed right next to him, your head laying on one of your fluffy pillows. Your dress rode up a bit with your movements, but it didn’t really matter, and you pressed your legs together trying to relieve some of the tension while you waited for Sirius to do something. He simply watched you, taking in the image of you wriggling in place and toying with the rings he bought you for your birthday.

You felt a soft touch on your calves, and it gave you a fluttering feeling in your stomach. Sirius’s hands were moving slowly up your legs, nudging them apart without needing much force since you complied immediately. You were about to burst, ready to scream at him to just get on with it, but decided to keep quiet.

One of his hands made its way to the edge of your dress, swiftly going under it and his fingers slightly grazing your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked at the soft touch, but then just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No, come back!” you implored, reaching for Sirius’s wrist but being too slow.

Sirius arched one eyebrow, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, “M’sorry, I just need you so bad. It hurts.” But Sirius remained where he was, arms now crossed over his chest as he looked at you. His eyes were full of disappointment and you wanted to cry, “What’s gotten into you today? You were so demanding in class before, so bratty, I don’t think you deserve it at all.” He was stretching the truth, you were by far the least bratty person he had ever been with, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw how much his words affected you.

A few tears fell at his words, “No, no, m’not bratty. I’m a good girl, daddy. I promise I’ll be so so good, your best girl! I won’t ask for anything more, m’sorry.'' You were saying anything you could to convince him that you were still his good girl, his angel.

Your lips were quivering and your chest was heaving with sobs you tried to keep inside; babbling apologies and trying to convince him that you would never act like this again, and he finally took pity on you. His hands gripped your ankles and opened your legs so he could lay comfortably between them. He could see a dark patch on your lavender underwear, and he huffed out a laugh with a slightly amused shake of his head. “I forgive you, bunny, but you’ll have to take everything that I give you. D’you think you can do that f’me?”

You nodded eagerly, choking a small ‘thank you’ as you tried to control your breath. He grabbed the ends of your dress and bunched it up over your waist, not bothering to take it off. He licked a strip over your underwear and the combination of his warm tongue with the friction of the cotton cloth was enough to make you mewl.

Sirius could not deny that he had been craving to taste you once more after he licked your fingers clean that day, and now only getting a smidge of your taste from what seeped through your underwear drove him insane. He needed to taste you completely, so he quickly pulled them off and pocketed them in the back of his jeans.

He used his fingers to spread your folds wide open, staring hungrily at all the slick that had gathered. “Oh puppy, look at the mess you’ve already made,” he crooned. “Y’re dripping, d’ya really need me this bad?”

“Yes, so so bad. Please, daddy.” He was so close, his warm breath hitting your wet folds and making you tremble in anticipation.

You watched, using your elbows to raise yourself a little, as he slowly started to take his rings off. “Hold ‘em for me, bunny, don’t want them to get dirty,” he said as he slid his chunky rings into your fingers. The metal dangled a little because of the size difference, so you closed your hands to keep them from falling.

Finally, his tongue made contact with your clit and you sighed in relief. It was followed by a moan when he started to suck on it, making sure to swirl his tongue all around before slurping. He looked like a starved man that finally came into contact with some sweet fruit, moving his head around your pussy to have you gushing on him. The ache in your tummy was slowly decreasing, now replaced with a nice fluttering feeling.

Your whines and moans echoed through his ears, resembling the most beautiful angel choir he had ever heard. He pulled away for a moment, “I’ve been waiting to taste you for days, puppy. S’better than I remembered.”

The more he pushed his tongue inside you, the more your legs shook. You involuntarily closed them, your pillowy thighs acting as earmuffs around Sirius’s head. He let them rest there for a few seconds before pushing them open once more, adding more fervour to his movements, eager to drink your sweet ambrosia.

Your closed fists went to his head, and you opened them a little to grip his hair, trying to ground yourself. “Gonna cum, daddy, can I?” You breathed out. Sirius just hummed, sending vibrations that were enough to make you let go. You tried to close your legs once more, but his shoulders prevented you from doing so. You felt like you were floating, your brain shutting off for a few seconds before returning to earth.

But Sirius didn’t stop moving his tongue, one of his fingers circling your hole before entering you slowly. Just one of his fingers felt like two of yours, even though you knew it wasn’t an accurate comparison. The stretch this time burned more than when you touched yourself, and you whined while shaking your head. “Too much, s’too much.”

Sirius paused for a moment so he could press your legs to your chest with one hand while the other kept moving in and out of you. The sudden switch in position made you gasp, but not as much as when Sirius thrust his fingers hard. “Are you dumb? I told you you had to take everything I gave you. D’you want to make me mad again?”

More tears fell when he curled his fingers, expertly finding that spongy spot inside you that pumped white heat through your veins. The way they twisted resembled a musician fiddling with a harp, your needy whines accompanying them like the main act. “No no, I can take it” you gasped, drowning in bliss as his fingers kept hitting the perfect spots.

You were already so close, Sirius giving you no respite as he quickly pushed his fingers. Your hand gripped his arm, fingertips digging the ink-covered skin. “C-close,” you whined, eyes rolling back and mouth open as you felt the tension ready to break.

“Going to make more of a mess, angel?” he grumbled, and you tried to nod as much as you could in your constricted position. Sirius chuckled, “Dirty little thing. Go on, I’ve got you.”

You whimpered brokenly as he pulled another orgasm from you. It felt like his fingertips were scrapping your insides to drag it out, and your feet dangled in the air as you swung them while trying to grab his wrist to stop him from moving.

Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes from you, with your pretty tears dripping down your cheeks and your chest heaving with small sobs from how good you felt. For him, all for him and only ever for him, because no one had ever touched you like he has and no one else ever would. “You look so pretty like this,” he cooed. “God I love your tears, baby, look how hard you make me.”

Your eyes moved down his body—when had he taken off his shirt? His tattoos splayed over his toned muscles made you clench around his fingers. You adored the small drawings that covered most of his body, they looked so beautiful on him and you just wanted to cry even more at how pretty your boyfriend was. When your eyes moved lower, following his previous instruction, you could see there was already a bulge in his pants that you knew was his cock, and your mouth watered at the thought of it just resting against his stomach like it did the first time you sucked him.

“I wanna feel you,” you cried while stretching your hands to touch him. He let you, your soft palms going over his chest and grabbing his shoulders so you could pull him down. “Kissie,” you breathed, letting his lips hover over yours for a second before kissing you hard and messily. His tongue played with yours and it only added more fuel to the fire inside you.

A moan broke you apart when his fingers resumed their pace, “P-please, no more” you babbled, the stimulation too much to bear.

“How are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers, hm?” He asked and you whined, his fingers burying themselves up to his knuckles and making your eyes roll back once more. Your mouth was dry from being constantly open, whimpers and moans constantly escaping from the open cavity. “Come on, one more, I know you have it in you. My good girl aren’t you?”

The squelching sounds were so dirty and they rang through your ears,  yet even through your fuzzy mind you could discern the important words, “Y-your good girl,” you managed to get out with a smile, glad to be praised by him.

His other hand pressed down on your legs even more, and now you could see the way the digits moved in and out of you, a slight sheen coating the skin every time they came out. “God, you were right, bunny, you are tight,” he grunted, “I don’t think I’ll ever fit, m’gonna break you.”

At that, your eyes widened. “No no, you’ll fit, daddy!” But he just chuckled at your desperation, “M’gonna break you in half, angel. Do you want that? Do you want me to split you open?”

A small chant of ’yes’ and ‘please’ echoed through the room. You could feel another wave coming, ready to wash over you as your toes curled in anticipation. It was like you were dangling on the edge, your hands holding on for dear life as you tried to hold on, and your moans grew louder and louder with every thrust Sirius gave.

Your clenching walls around his digits were warning enough for him, and he kept his eyes on your form as you struggled to keep it at bay, waiting for his permission. He watched as your ring clad fingers scrambled to the sheets, gripping them tightly as your head moved from side to side. “That’s it, bunny, let go f’me” and with one harsh thrust, you slackened the hold you had on your release and finally let go.

If you felt like you were still on your body you would’ve screamed. A white heat engulfed you as your vision grew hazy, your hips raising of their own accord and aiding Sirius in dragging your orgasm out. You looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty sheen on your skin and now tangled up hair sticking to your forehead. Sirius leant down, tongue cleaning the fallen tears before they dried, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.

He grabbed your face, squishing your spit covered cheeks. “What do you say, angel?”

With a shuddering breath, you looked into his stormy eyes as he cleaned your release from his fingers with his tongue. “Thank you, daddy.”

You tried to lower your legs, but Sirius kept them in place. You stared at him, confused, yet he was staring at your puffy cunt, all shiny and stretched out for him. A smirk covered his lips as he finally looked at you, “I think y’re finally ready for m’cock, angel.”

TAGLIST: @ildm4ev @capsmischief @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @remusjlupinisdead @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour @emmaev @gxtitobxby @sam-hollandsgirl —if you want to be tagged tap here

[v-hope]

Heartcuffed

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, established (kinda secret) relationship au

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: The moment Jeongguk and you saw the pink heart-shaped handcuffs that would be a part of his outfit for the photoshoot that day, you both knew what was coming your way.

Warnings: Fingering, unprotected sex, handcuffs (obviously), dressing room sex, quickie, creampie, Jeongguk is a whole tease in this one. Also they almost get caught?

A/N: You guys know smut is not my thing, but, I mean. Pink heart-shaped handcuffs. Do I need to say more? This doesn’t have much of a plot (I think), but I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I apologize for any mistakes that there might be, as I’m running short on time and couldn’t edit is as thoroughly as I usually do.

Little were the times you were able to go on set to support your boyfriend. The fact that not every member of the staff knew the two of you were dating, along with no one outside of the industry knowing about your relationship either, only made things complicated for the two of you. However, with a comeback on his end and finals on yours being just around the corner, it was either that or having to wait three more weeks until you could see each other again.

You had managed not to draw attention most of the day — acting like a good friend with all seven members of the group, which you were, and eventually sneaking out with Jeongguk whenever he was done shooting his parts, so the two of you could have some much needed alone time in any empty room he could find in the building.

It was only when they had changed for their last photoshoot, Jeongguk dressed in a black coverall with a matching belt that made his waist look tinier than ever, as well as leaving half of his sleeve uncovered, that you found yourself breathing heavily.

Especially when a member of the staff went up to him and hooked something pink to his belt, having to tilt your head to the side so you could take a better look at it.

Handcuffs.

More specifically, a pair of cute, pink heart-shaped handcuffs.

As if on cue, Jeongguk’s eyes went to you, a smile curving up his lips as he teasingly raised his pierced brow when your gazes met. That was all you needed to know you were thinking of the same thing.

The rest of the photoshoot? Absolute torture for you.

“So,” he came closer to you after finishing his solo shoot, having Namjoon leave your side and going to have his. “What do you think?”

“Hot” was your simple answer, earning an amused bunny smile from him.

“Hot? That’s it?” he pushed it. “What about the heartcuffs?”

A laugh made its way out of your mouth at that. “Heartcuffs?”

“Jin hyung called them that” he laughed too. “They’re kinda cute, though…” his eyes scanned the one that wasn’t attached to his belt as he held it up. “Kinda resemble our hearts”.

“I’m pretty sure our actual hearts look a little bit different than these” you teased him over his cheesy words.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “I meant that they’re attached, you smartass”.

“So our hearts are cuffed to one another” you gave him a dramatic, understanding nod. “Does that mean there’s no way out for me?”

He chuckled, taking a dangerous step towards you. “Absolutely no way out, sweets”.

“Yah…” you stopped him before he could lean in for a kiss. “Anyone could see us”.

“Half the people here know we’re dating” he whispered without a care.

“And the other half don’t” you pointed out.

Jeongguk huffed, causing you to bite your lip as you thought about it for a moment. After all, and as frustrating as it was, the less people who knew about your relationship, the better.

“How about…” you mumbled, hooking a finger to the handcuff he was holding to pull him just a little closer. “You take these home so we can make up for the lost time later?”

Liking that idea, he found himself smiling, only to later have his cheeks turn a bright pink after having looked around at the people on set.

“They will know what I want them for if I ask to take them home”.

“Bummer,” you lamented.

Jeongguk bit his bottom lip, once again looking both sides around the hectic atmosphere surrounding you as everyone worked on getting the other members ready, before his eyes focused back on yours and his head tilted to the door.

“Let’s go”.

He didn’t hold your hand until the two of you were alone in the hallway, intertwining his fingers with yours and rushing over to the same dressing room the two of you had lovingly been making out inside during his last break almost an hour ago.

This time, however, all sweetness had been left aside.

Mouth hungrily sucking on your bottom lip as soon as your back pressed against the door, he wasted no time on locking it, effortlessly lifting you up and having you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the closest drawer.

Placing you down on it yet not letting go of your butt as he gave it a hard squeeze and pulled you closer, a soft moan escaped your mouth when his wet lips trailed all their way down from your neck to your collarbone.

“We don’t have much time” you reminded him in what came out in more of a huff, knowing well enough he was trying to take his sweet time with you — something you truly did not have that day, not when he was working.

Jeongguk huffed, planting one last kiss on your chest before his mouth went back to yours. “I won’t see you in like three more weeks”.

“And you won’t get to fuck me either if someone comes here and interrupts us”.

That had seemed to convince him.

Taking the handcuffs off his belt, internally thanking the fact that they weren’t real ones and hence he didn’t need a key, he motioned for you to stick your hands out. You didn’t hesitate to do as told, watching him accommodate their particular shape to your wrists so they wouldn’t hurt you, and then, before you could either notice nor protest, lifting one of them up so he could also close it around one of the hooks from the rack you had not noticed was stuck to the wall right above your head.

Unable to move your hands, you caught him smirking at the sight of you.

“You know,” he mumbled, lips brushing against yours while his hand gently stroked your thigh. “I could get used to this”.

Your teeth biting on your lip were replaced by his own as his mouth once again crashed on yours, grinding your hips against the desk when his hand went down to your center, stroking you over the thin fabric of the black pants you had decided to wear that day.

“So needy, aren’t you?” Jeongguk chuckled, thumb rubbing small circles over your core. “Have nearly touched you and I can already feel how wet you are”.

A light moan escaped your lips, pretending to entangle your fingers in his long, purple locks to pull him in for a kiss and shut him up, yet finding yourself being unable to by the cuffs around your wrists.

It was then when it hit you, you were completely under his mercy right then.

Another chuckle escaped his mouth, digging his hands under your t-shirt and pulling you closer to the edge by your waist — keeping you in place as he slowly rocked his hardened member against your center.

“Jeongguk…” you pleaded in a moan.

“Yes, baby?” he sweetly replied, pressing a small kiss to the uncovered skin on your chest.

“Don’t tease me”.

He laughed under his breath. Fuck, there was nothing he wanted more than to take his sweet, oh sweet time with you.

Your words, although had succeeded to bring your point across, had not been enough to convince him. If anything, he only wanted to tease you more — your head going to the side as you tried to muffle a moan against your arm when he slipped a hand inside your underwear and one of his fingers made it inside you, was all the confirmation he needed to keep on driving you to the edge.

“Fuck, Jeongguk” you breathed out when he added another digit, involuntarily moving your hips away from him at the sudden wave of pleasure.

With his free hand grabbing tightly onto your hip, Jeongguk kept you in place, burying his fingers deeper inside you in pistoning and curling motions, having to muffle another loud moan of yours with his mouth as he had seemed to find that one soft spot of yours in no time.

“J-Jeongguk, please” you begged, melting under his intense eyes. “Please, I need you”.

If the two of you had been back home, he could easily have taken hours with you. However, after looking at the clock by the door and hearing a few staff members talking through the halls, he knew, just like you had told him before, that you were running short on time.

Not letting another second go by, he took your pants off. Rushedly unbuttoning his coverall, he couldn’t help but tease you once more after catching up on the way you had fought against the handcuffs to reach out to the white t-shirt that remained under his first layer — the one covering his toned chest you had always loved kissing, and the one he had decided to keep on just to drive you mad.

“You’re such an ass” you recriminated him.

Jeongguk laughed, pushing his underwear down enough for his hardened member to stick out. Pumping himself a couple of times under your intent eyes, his mouth came close to yours.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to be in handcuffs, sweets?”

Feeling your heavy breathing mix with his, he sucked on your bottom lip, grabbing your hip with one of his hands to keep you steady while his other one made your panties to the side as he lined himself up to your entrance.

“Quit the teasing” you warned him this time, not being able to take it anymore.

With a low laugh and one last kiss, he entered you without a warning. Not being able to hold the throaty moan that had just escaped your mouth, you closed your eyes as you let your boyfriend fill every single inch inside of you over and over again with each thrust of his hips.

Burying his face on the crook of your neck, you felt his hot breath hit against your skin as he tried to muffle his own moans.

“Fuck, you always feel so good” he panted.

Still holding you tightly with one hand as he fucked you hard, one of his hands pulled your top up over your chest, keeping it there and pulling one side of your bra down so he could attach his lips to your breast and tease your nipple with his quite needy tongue.

Closing your eyes as you let yourself get lost in the extra pleasure his wet mouth was giving you, you jumped up after hearing a noise coming from the door. Eyes immediately going to it, you watched the doorknob moving forcefully yet not being able to turn, thanks to Jeongguk, who had been careful enough to lock it minutes ago.

“Hello?” you heard a woman ask from the other side of the door.

That hadn’t seemed to bother him, not for more than a second, at least. And even when she kept trying to turn the doorknob and a part of you wanted to tell him to stop just in case someone managed to make their way in, you couldn’t find it in you to actually tell him to. Not when his cock inside you felt so good, not when you could feel yourself getting closer by the second.

“Shh,” he hushed you when a moan slipped from your lips, thrusts becoming slower yet deeper for them not to hear. “They can’t get in, but they can still hear us”.

Although wanting to protest, you found yourself being unable to form any kind of coherent sentence when one particular thrust of his had been about to send you over the edge.

“Jeong—” your loud moan was cut off by his hand on your mouth.

Another moan was muffled by his hand when he pulled his cock almost completely out of you, only to slam it inside the next second. Pressing his forehead against yours and letting you feel his hot, heavy breathing on your face, he removed his hand from your mouth once you were quiet again, only to stick two fingers inside of it just in case.

You could tell he was enjoying this new little game of keeping it quiet — you, on the other hand, were truly struggling.

Once the doorknob had stopped moving and no one seemed to be by the door anymore, he was quick to replace his fingers with his mouth, tongue massaging yours and moaning against your lips when you rolled your hips on his.

“Jeongguk, I’m c-coming” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

“Hold on a little longer, baby” he rasped out.

Taking advantage of the hook holding your cuffed hands up, he lifted you up from the desk, making you wrap your legs tighter around his waist as he held you up — this new angle allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

“Guk, I—I can’t—”

With your walls pulsating around his cock, you couldn’t hold on any longer, having no choice but to let yourself come undone as he kept thrusting hard into you — nails digging onto your skin when he felt his orgasm approach as well.

“Y/N, f-fuck…” he rasped.

Placing his hand under the curve of one of your breasts as he kept pulling you up and down into his cock, he forgot about the people outside for a few seconds — low grunts escaping his throat one after another until he reached his high.

Feeling his release spreading inside your walls, a light moan escaped your lips as well, being unable to move still while he buried his face in the crook of your neck as the two of you came down from your high and tried to catch your breath.

Breathing heavily against your hot skin, he pressed his swollen lips to it, later peppering a trail of kisses down to your chest, fixing your messy bra and then pulling your t-shirt down.

“Do you think they heard us?” you wondered, quietly watching him dress you up again and then button his coverall just enough to cover his underwear.

“I hope not” his answer didn’t sound very convincing.

Pouting in defeat, you let him press his red mouth to yours. Sweetly, as if nothing else had happened only one minute ago.

“Will you uncuff me now so I can touch you?”

A mischievous smile parted on his lips, lifting you up just enough for you to unhook your arms from the rack, yet not unlocking the handcuffs around your wrists. Instead, he placed your arms over his shoulders, around his neck.

“Let’s stay like this for a little longer” he pecked your lips.

“They must be already looking for the key to get inside” you reminded him.

“So let them” he shrugged, one of his hands going up to the heart-shaped handcuff around one of your wrists, staring at it for a couple of seconds. “I wanna keep them”.

“Please, let’s keep them,” you agreed in a heartbeat. “I need to take my revenge on you and all your teasing”.

“Revenge?” he played it innocent. “I was actually thinking, when we go public we can walk out with them on so that everyone knows we’re heartcuffed for life”.

Throwing your head back, you let a loud laugh out, later resting your forehead on his and entangling your fingers in his purple hair like you had so badly been aching for earlier that day.

“Jeongguk-ie?”

“Yes?”

Not being able to erase your smile, you shook your head. “No”.

Oh well, there would always be other creative ways to let the world know your hearts belonged to each other anyway.

[harryspet]

please don’t bite | p.parker, s.rogers, b.barnes

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark!steve x reader, hints of dark!natasha/dark!bucky x reader, vampire!steve/bucky/natasha, vampire au, vampire blood addiction, withdrawals, kidnapping, dubcon, intoxicated sex, oral sex (female recieveing)

A/N: hello, it’s been forever! I was in the middle of writing this when @cherienymphe announced her  “Cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge” so I decided to join in! She’s one of my favorite dark writers so please check her out if you haven’t. 

In which addiction leads you into a den of vampires. 

taglist: @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan

main masterlist

word count: 3.7k

You piled all the dollar bills you had in your pocket on the table, “There. We can just use this.” You plopped down beside your boyfriend on the couch, fully feeling the headache you’ve had for the past two weeks. It was like your brain was pounding against your skull and sending painful waves through your body. 

“This is twenty bucks and a … grocery store coupon for … shampoo,” After counting it, Peter flicked the money back onto the coffee table, leaning back with you. You tossed your legs over his lap and he wrapped his arm behind you, “So we have fifty bucks between us … great.”

“That’s enough, right?” You asked, barely able to hear yourself think through your headache. 

“It’s like two-hundred just for a small vial,” A shiver ran through your body and Peter pulled you closer. Not only did the heat not work in the shoebox you two called an apartment, you were starting to get random chills and it was another rough winter in New York. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, “Fuck, fuck-”

Peter shushed you, “We’ll be okay,” Peter said, trying to be strong for the both of you though his body was punishing him even more than yours was, “I got a gig by the pier, and by the end of the week, we should have enough.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you clutched his chest, “That’s too long. We’ll die before then.”

“We’ll be okay,” Peter insisted though he didn’t quite believe himself. 

Vampire blood was one cruel mistress. It was hard to remember your lives before you took your first sips of the addictive potion. You both had everything going for you, highschool sweethearts that became successful college students but that was all gone now. You can’t hold a job or go to school when you’re on vampire blood. The highs last hours and, when you have enough of it, weeks can go by without you noticing. 

“What was it like? Drinking from the vein?” You asked him, the taste of the blood was faint on your lips as you tried to remember the exact taste. 

Peter’s head tilted back as he stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, “Like Heaven on earth. Like eternal life …. like nothing any normal human would ever feel. So good … jesus.”

Sometimes Peter wished he never introduced you to the taste but he’d forget all about it when you were high together. The sex was unbelievable, vampire blood being a strong aphrodisiac, and your love felt even stronger, “I want to try it,” You thought out loud, “If I’m gonna die soon, I-I wanna try it.”

“You’re not gonna die. Our brains are just totally miswired right now,” Peter groaned, turning his face towards yours. He kissed your forehead and, for a moment, it eased the pain. You tilted your head up to kiss the sides of his mouth. He tilted his head to the side and you kissed deeply. He pulled away suddenly and his eyes gazed into yours, “What would you do?”

“W-What?”

“What would you do to taste it from the vein?” You swallowed and your throat ached. 

You nodded your head, “Anything. Oh god, anything, Peter.”

You’d sensed he’d had an idea and a weak grin began to pull at your lips. That quickly fell as Peter pulled away from you. You expected him to be excited but he was completely solemn, “I have an idea,” He said, “You can say no … but if you don’t say no, you have to promise that things will be how they used to be afterwards.”

“How they used to be,” You couldn’t even think that far back. You couldn’t imagine a single date, single birthday card or New Year’s Eve kiss while you were in so much pain, “Sure, Pete. We just need a taste a-and that’ll clear our minds and things we’ll go back to how they used to be.”

+

As if things couldn’t get any worse, your stomach growled. You’d gotten dressed up, put on light makeup, and styled your hair for whoever Peter had taken you to meet. You didn’t quite care anymore because your headache continued to cripple you over the past few days. 

You pulled your jacket tighter as you waited on the steps of the gentrified brownstone. Peter pressed the doorbell nervously, watching as you shiver in your small, black dress. Peter dressed in his finest slacks and button down but was very aware that he probably wouldn’t be the center of attention tonight. He reached out to grab your hand which you happily took. 

“Why is he making us meet him so late?” You whispered, shivering. 

“He’s a vampire,” Peter shrugged, “They’re like nocturnal, I guess.”

Peter had reached out to ring the doorbell again when the door suddenly opened. A red headed woman opened the door, her hair cut short and a sultry smile on her face. You could tell instantly by the shine in her skin and darkness in her eyes that she was not like you. 

“Peter,” She greeted, smirking, “You look … hungry.”

“And cold,” He added, sensing your uncomfortableness as she took him in like he was her prey. 

“Right, come on in,” Peter led you inside the expensive home and out of the cold winter. You pressed yourself closer to him, not only because you were still shivering but because you’d never been alone with a vampire, “Steve will be here any moment.”

The woman led you down a corridor and you passed modern art sculptures and other expensive decorations you didn’t quite understand, “Steve?” You perked up at the mention of someone else. 

“That’s, uh, who we’re meeting,” Peter said quickly.

“Unfortunately, I’m booked tonight. A sweet young thing I met a few weeks ago. British accent, total dreamboat, but Steve will take great care of you two,” She led the two of you into a dining room where wine and horderves were laid out, gesturing for the two of you to take a seat, “Let me take your jackets.”

You looked at Peter and he nodded, “It’s okay,” Hesitantly, you slid off one of your sleeves and you felt her eyes begin to burn into the skin of your neck. Your arms weak, you lifted it out to her and she graciously accepted it. Peter did the same, taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. Your eyes were still on the mysterious woman until Peter grabbed your hand. 

“I hope to see you both soon,” She smiled again, leaving the room, “Keep your eyes on this one, Pete.” 

You turned to him, your eyebrows raised, “How do you know her?”

“That’s her,” Peter said, grabbing the bottle of wine, “I told you about the first time I tried it from the vein. I think she has a thing for young guys. Or young anything.”

As he poured himself a glass, you reached out for a cracker and tried not to eat too fast as you pushed them into your mouth, “Why’d she look at me like that?” You asked, covering your mouth. 

“You’re a virgin,” You almost snorted, “I mean, your veins are. You’ve never been fed off of.”

“Oh,” You swallowed, taking his glass from him as you washed down your food, “I don’t wanna be. That’ll hurt, right?”

“Don’t worry, that’s not what we’re here for.”

Feeling some of your energy return, you stood up from the dining table, deciding to look closer at all the artifacts, “Y/N, what are you doing?” Peter asked, his fingers rubbing his temples, “Sit down, please.”

“Why do they have food if vampires don’t eat?” You asked out loud, annoying him further. There seemed to be a million framed pictures on the wall and you studied them as you passed along. They seemed to transform from black and white to fully in color, polaroid to digital. 

“For their human prey, probably.”

“Prey?” A deep voice spoke up, surrounding the room, bringing Peter out of his chair and your head turning quickly, “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Mr. Rogers,” Peter rushed out, and you wondered how he could muster up so much energy to be nice, “I didn’t mean …”

“No worries, I try to be polite but I am a blood sucking demon after all,” The blonde-bearded man smiled. He was so muscular, you’d pictured someone skinny and frail. “Won’t you introduce me to your …”

“Girlfriend,” Peter said a bit sadly. He wasn’t sad that you were his but that this was the saddest excuse for a date night, “This is Y/N.”

You raised a hand to wave but he crossed the room to take your hand. He kissed your knuckles, smiling charmingly as he looked into your eyes. Blue eyes, you weren’t expecting those either. Despite the porcelain skin he looked quite human. His suit was black, and his white shirt was pressed nicely beneath it, like he’d just returned from an important event. You smiled back weakly, “Pleasure to meet you, doll.”

“It’s … nice to meet you too.”

You felt Peter’s eyes on you as your hand fell back down to your side, “You two look like you’ve seen better days,” You moved closer to Peter because, despite his kind smile, you didn’t fully trust him. 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Is it that obvious?” The nice clothes couldn’t hide the fact that they hadn’t had any vampire blood in almost three weeks. It was amazing that they were still standing. 

“I think I can help you both out,” Steve assured you two, “If you had enough of the horderves, you can follow me upstairs.” He turned and Peter grabbed your hand as you all left the room. 

“What exactly do we have to do … you know, for the blood?” Looking up at Peter, you worried that he was nervous for reasons that he was not telling you. Steve led you to the stairs and, as you climbed, you couldn’t help but look at all the photos that lined each wall. The upstairs wasn’t lit, making it feel like you were stepping into a story with a not-so-happy ending. 

“Peter didn’t tell you?” Steve asked, not bothering to turn around. He led you down the hall to what you assumed was the master bedroom. 

“Not everything,” Peter said quickly. 

You expected some kind of evil den but the room was quite normal. High ceilings, brown upholstered bed, a view of the neighborhood, and a fireplace. You and Peter stood awkwardly, looking around, as Steve made his way over to the fireplace. He leaned down to turn a dial and moments later, it sprouted with fire. 

“Peter,” You nudged him, your brows furrowed. He didn’t say anything which worried you more. Steve stood up, taking off his jacket which made your heart begin to race. Some of the fear disappeared quickly as he rolled up his white sleeves … exposing lower arms. 

Now, your mouth was watering, “There’s no need to worry, doll. I already promised Peter that no harm will come to the two of you. But you do understand that this is a trade? I give you my blood and you give me what I want.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted, “And what do you want?”

“I want to watch,” He stated, looking the two of you over, “I consider myself somewhat of a voyeur, I like to watch when people are intimate.” You looked back and forth from him to Peter. 

“Y/N, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter spoke quietly, worry in his eyes. 

“Of course not,” Steve smiled, already a bit aroused by your shocked expression. He reached into his pocket to pull out a pocket knife, its handle having an old and intricate design, “But I think it’ll be very enjoyable on your side of things. The blood will certainly take the edge off and I won’t overstep my boundaries, I promise.”

“And we’re supposed to trust a vampire … ,” Steve stepped closer, pressing the knife to his skin. 

“We don’t have another option,” Peter said, his eyes focused on Steve’s vein. Peter let go of your hand, the addiction taking over as he moved closer to Steve. Steve cut into his arm, the crimson running down it but not a drop touched the floor before Peter pressed his lips to the wound. 

When Peter pulled away, his head tilted all the way back, as the sweet serum traveled down his throat. You were still staring in shock, the scent reaching your nose, and drawing you further in. It took everything in you to keep your feet planted and your fingernails dug into your palm as you watched. 

Peter smiled, blood on his lips and mouth, “Y/N,” He drawled, “Please, taste it …” He walked towards you, his hands outstretched. The blood on his lips, you could smell it, and you wanted to taste it so bad that it was hurting you. When he leaned into your lips, you didn’t stop him. His tongue entered your mouth and you felt the high he was feeling. 

Your vision began to blur a little as your head tilted back. Peter’s hands were holding you steady as the biggest smile spread across your lips. It was like tasting heaven, something beyond reality and you wanted to never let that supernatural feeling go. 

You felt a foreign hand against your back but you felt like welcoming any touch under the influence of the drug. As Peter pulled his lips away from you, your eyes opened to Steve’s as he was offering you his wrist. With the taste already on the tongue, you gladly accepted more, Peter’s hands roaming over your body as you drank. 

You weren’t sure how you made it to the bed, it felt like you had floated. Peter was right, he was so right, were all the words you could think. You heard those words, felt Peter’s hands, and watched as Steve’s lips turned into a mischievous smile. 

Steve stepped away, the cut on his arm already healing, as he made himself comfortable in a lounging chair by the fireplace. He had to give it to the kid, he seemed to know your body much better than he expected for a guy his age. Either that, or you couldn’t tell what was what at the moment and it was all just pleasure in your glazed over eyes. 

Your head tilted to the side so Steve could analyze every detail of your face. Your dress was pulled down at the top and the bottom rolled up past your stomach. Peter held your legs firmly, biting and kissing your thighs as he made himself comfortable between your legs. 

“God, I fucking love you,” Steve smiled at Peter’s words. Your back arched up as he finally pushed your panties aside, tasting your warm center, “You smell so good. You taste so good.”

You cried out his name, biting down on your bottom lip, and Steve imagined you accidentally drawing blood.  You wouldn't have noticed, there was already blood dripping down your chin. Steve liked how loud you were, he didn’t like the girls that held everything in, and he liked even more how Peter took your mewlings as encouragement to lap at you faster. 

“Fuck,” You cursed, gripping the sheets tightly. Steve felt his pants begin to tighten though he promised himself he would wait, “Fuck, fuck!” You finally came and Peter crawled up your body in order to kiss you on your lips. 

He fumbled with his belt and Steve felt his desperation to be inside you. He was still slow with you when he finally entered you, much more patient than Steve imagined he would be. He kept things slow so you could adjust. He made love to you, kissing your neck, “Is that good?”

You nodded eagerly, “Y-Yeah! Like that …. I love that, Petey. Feels so good … feels so good.”

It was more than ecstasy. The blood mixed with the love of your life, you thought you might cry knowing that no other feeling could compare. 

+

Steve watched the young lovebirds through several rounds and several different positions, your stamina never seeming to run out. Like any other drug, the high relieved the side effects but it didn’t last forever. Eventually, you and Peter floated to sleep. 

You slept through the entire morning and you thought you’d wake in Peter’s arms. You could face any shame and guilt if you were with him but, when your heavy eyes finally opened, you were alone. Your palm against your head, you sat up in the bed, a little bit of sun creeping through the curtains. Looking down, you were completely naked most likely from last night's escapades. 

You felt dirty, for more than one reason. “Peter,” You whispered, stepping out of the bed to look for your dress. Covering your chest, you kneeled down to check beneath the bed, “Peter.”

You breathed heavily, trying to push down your anxiousness as you struggled to find your clothes. When the door of the room opened, you panicked, grabbing ahold of the comforter and pulling it against your body. 

It wasn’t Peter or Steve but a dark haired man, abnormally muscular for a vampire just like Steve. He tilted his head as he looked at you, “Where’s Peter?” You asked immediately. 

“Who?” He raised an eyebrow, shutting the door, “Ohhh, Peter. Right. The boyfriend.”

“Where’s Peter and who are you?” You continued, your eyes wide with fear. Bucky ran his hand over his beard before folding his arms over each other. 

“I’m Steve’s … friend,” You began to recognize him from all the photos, “There’s a few of us who share this house, you know. And I heard you all last night, I asked Steve if I could join the fun but sitting on the sidelines is a bit boring to me.” 

You didn’t care, “If you’re not gonna tell me where Peter is-”

He rolled his eyes, “He’s with Natasha I think. He woke up still craving. Are you craving something too, dollface?”

“Nothing from you,” You shook your head though the idea of his bleeding wrist did pop into your brain, “I-I need to see him.”

“Be my guest. Are you going naked?” You scowled at him, “Go clean up first, please. There should be something for you to wear in the bathroom.”

The two of you stared awkwardly until Bucky realized you weren’t going to move until he left the room, “Fine,” He raised his hands in defeat, “They always get shy in the morning.” He mumbled to himself as the door shut. You quickly hurried to the bathroom, shutting and locking it. 

Why the hell was Peter with Natasha? She’d look at him like she wanted to devour him, in a completely non-vampire kind of way. And he’d left you all alone for that man to find you. Sure, you’d done things last night you weren’t proud of but he’d promised that things would go back to normal after. 

You freshened up in the sink, throwing on a night blue, silk nightgown. You had to scrub the dry blood off of your lips and your inner thighs and you were forced to relive the night. Everything was perfect but as soon as you thought about who watched and probably got off to it, you only felt guilty. You felt even more guilty that you were craving more blood. 

The room was empty when you stepped back into it. Tip toeing over to the bedroom door, you made sure to check to see if the coast was clear before stepping out into the hallway. You thought you could find Peter, snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and take the two of you home even if you had to carry him out on your back. 

“Natasha warned me to keep an eye on you,” He appeared in front of you so suddenly that a small shriek left your lips. You backed up quickly only to run into another tall figure. 

“Bucky, you’re going to hurt her,” Steve warned, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. 

Bucky smirked, “No blood, no foul.”

“You say that now.”

You stepped away from both of them, your back pressing against the nearest wall, “Would you like breakfast, doll?” Steve asked, catching you off guard. 

“You should get something on your stomach, doll,” Bucky seemed to mimic Steve’s concerned nature which caused Steve to press his lips into a frustrated, thin line. 

“Where. Is. Peter? I want to go home.”

“He’s-”

Bucky interrupted him, “You can’t go home.”

“Buck-”

“There’s no use in sugarcoating it,” Bucky stepped closer, resting his arm above you, “We need new blood bags and it’s not like you guys have much to go back to.” 

“We’re not blood bags-”

“We’re all blood bags,” Bucky chuckled, “You guys need us too. Anyways, it’s not a request. Steve is just nicer than me but we’re all going to take what we want.”

You slipped away from him, your feet pushing you even though you knew you were faster. The only reason Bucky didn’t chase after you was because of Steve, “Peter!” You called out, running down the hall, “Peter!” You frantically opened each door you walked past until you got to the end of the hallway. 

When you stormed in, you found him shirtless, sprawled on a bed. Natasha, in a robe, was in front of a vanity, brushing through her red hair. You hurried over to the bed, grabbing a hold of his shoulders, “Peter, we have to get out of here.”

He smiled, softly grabbing ahold of your arm, “My love, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” He was so high that you weren’t even sure if he was really seeing you. 

Tears pricked your eyes, “You promised, Peter. You promised.”

He shushed you, “It’s okay, just give me a few … hours. We’ll be … okay.”

You felt hands on your waist that you didn’t fight. She brushed a piece of hair from your face, touching your cheek with her freezing hand, “I knew you’d like her, Buck. They're both so perfect,” Natasha guided you away from the bed and towards the door where the other two vampires were standing, “So who gets the first bite?”

“Steve’s had his fun. She’s mine tonight.” 

+

hope you enjoyed that fun little one-shot!

[erimeows]

Feverish

You were surprised to have been called to the med bay a little bit past nine in the evening, woken up by your phone ringing and Ratchet on the other end. You clutched your robe close to your body as you raced through the hallway, sleep in your eyes and worries in your head.

The lead medic had given you no explanation, only telling you to come meet him outside of the med bay as soon as you could before he hung up on you.

You wondered if it was an emergency, if someone was injured or dying, if something had happened during patrol- Wait, no. Their night patrols didn’t start for another hour or so, and if it had been an emergency, someone like Bumblebee or Optimus would’ve called you in a panic.

Still, the whole situation was weird, and you were worried, so when you saw Ratchet outside of the med bay leaning against one of the walls, you immediately approached him with your concern etched in your features. 

Upon seeing you, Ratchet stood up straight, then put a strong servo on your shoulder in a reassuring manner before looking down at you. His pale blue optics burned into your (e/c) eyes, and though you tried your best, you couldn’t read his expression.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the medic spoke.

“Optimus Prime has fallen ill.”

“What?” You immediately sputtered, and your eyes flew to the door of the med bay; closed, you couldn’t even see Optimus. You just prayed that he was okay. In the time that you’d known the Prime and his team, you’d seen him injured or sick plenty, though the former was much more common. He never prioritized his own health and tried to push himself to do things, even when he was unwell, so he took forever to recover... Hopefully it wasn’t something severe. “How bad is it? Is he awake? Have you told the team yet?”

“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s nothing crazy, (y/n), so don’t worry,” Ratchet’s words, said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, soothed you, if only a little. If it were serious or ‘crazy’ as he put it, he would’ve told you directly instead of lying, so you believed him. “This morning, I was the first to wake and go into the kitchen to make myself an energy booster when I saw him stumble in... As in, he was literally stumbling over himself and I could see steam rolling off of him from overheat. He insisted he was fine, but something was off, so I dragged him to the medbay for testing. He’s low on energon and coolant, he was overheating, and there was a minor glitch in his vents from some battle damage that I had to fix. He’s recovering fine, but my main concern is that his chassis seems to be overheating to kill an infection. I think it’s just your run-of-the-mill space bug based on the labs I did, so I gave him some antibiotics.”

“You didn’t answer some of my questions-” You started, now concerned with whether you could actually go and see Optimus or not.

It wasn’t uncommon for the red and blue bot to ignore his own needs, but for him to have ignored symptoms that could’ve turned into something much worse had Ratchet not caught them... You wondered if there was something bothering Optimus that was making him neglect himself, more than he usually would.

“So demanding, you youngin’s,” Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics at you. “It’s not that bad, he’s awake, and no, I haven’t told the others yet. Our nightly patrol is soon and I have to break the news to them somehow, which is why I called you here. You can’t go with us anyway and they need me since we’re down one bot, so I want you to stay with Prime. He responds the best to you...” You blinked and then blushed at that, (s/c) cheeks burning bright. It was true that you and Optimus were close, but for Ratchet to acknowledge it like that... Well, you were flattered. You’d loved Optimus for as long as you could remember, and even though Ratchet surely meant that in a platonic way, it was nice to know that the effort you put into your relationship with the bot meant something. “His condition isn’t from a decline in his physical health- I had to pry like hell to find out what it was, but Prime finally broke and told me that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an energon cube or ran a self-evaluation to make sure he was functioning properly, which is why he’s energy-depleted and why the damage to his vents went unchecked. He’s so stressed from the leadership that this team needs that he isn’t taking care of himself anymore, and now, it’s led to him falling sick again. I think there’s something else going on in that processor of his, too, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else... I just know it’s more mental than anything.”

You stopped, frowning. What else could Optimus be hiding from everyone? Was he doing something dangerous? Had something happened? Was he breaking down from stress?

“O-Oh.. Okay,” You mumbled and leaned into the servo of Ratchet’s that was on your shoulder, sighing when he ran his thumb over a sore spot on the groove between said shoulder and your collar. The two of you had developed a close bond over the past couple years since they’d been on earth, with you, Sari’s tutor and caretaker, also acting as a second medic for the team with Ratchet’s training. While he’d trained you in how to care for the Autobots, you’d given him the basics of human anatomy and medical care, so with that time spent together, you were close- whether the old grump admitted it or not. “What about his medicine? How often does he take it? Is there anything else I need to do?”

“One pill every six human hours, they’re the white gel capsules that are rationed out on the table by Prime’s med-berth. I just gave him a dose, so don’t get him another one until three in the morning. He also needs to drink plenty of energon, coolant, and lubricant to get better, so make him do it, even if he gets pissy with you- shove it down his throat if you have to... But those are all things that I already told him, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself. I don’t need you in there to take care of him so much as I need you to stay in there to make sure he doesn’t get up and do anything stupid. You know how he gets when he’s sick.”

“Unfortunately, I do...” You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. It was going to be hard dealing with Optimus- hell, you could already imagine how he would be trying to sneak out of the med bay to go on patrol or trying to make you bring paperwork for him to do. You wouldn’t allow either, but considering how much larger he was than you, you’d have to convince him to relax instead of just being able to hold his aft down like Ratchet or Bulkhead could. “I’ll make sure he stays put. I’m assuming you’re taking over leadership until he recovers, Ratchet?”

“As the team medic, I’m second in command, so yeah... I have to. I’d let Prowl do it, but Primus knows he doesn’t want to, and I wouldn’t let Bumblebee or Bulkhead within a ten mile radius of any form of responsibility like this. I’m really the only option.”

“Right...” You imagined what a patrol without Optimus, led by a stressed and grouchy Ratchet would be like, and then cringed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

With that, Ratchet withdrew his servo from your shoulder and waved at you before turning around and walking down the hallway. You figured that Optimus shouldn’t be left alone for too long, so you quickly entered the med bay and shut the door behind you.

It was dark, with a small night light plugged into the walls that illuminated the room just a bit. You could see Optimus, who looked uncharacteristically pathetic, weakly laying on a med berth with a small side table on the ground next to him. On the table were some energon sticks, a cup of coolant, and the white pills that Ratchet had mentioned. 

“(y/n), is that you?” Optimus asked, trying to sit up, but immediately groaning in what you assumed was pain and flopping back down. His eyes squeezed shut, a strained grimace taking over his face-plates. You pulled one of the stools by a wall-counter to the side of the room where Optimus’s berth was and put it right by his side table so you could sit by him. You were close to his face, so you leaned down to look at it as his optics slowly opened back.

He was sick, and it would take at least a few days if not a week to recover; you could tell just by looking at him. His ocean-hued optics were abnormally dark and foggy, his powder blue faceplates were stained dark with heat, and though he wasn’t steaming like Ratchet had described this morning, there was definitely still heat radiating from his frame.

“Yes, Optimus, it’s me... I’m here to watch over you,” You leaned in to kiss the top of his helm, able to feel just how hot the metal felt against you. When you pulled back, you frowned at the absurd amount of heat- almost hot enough to make your lips sting, while Optimus’s normal temperature was a bit cooler than that of an average human’s by a degree or two. “Ratchet called me down here and told me what’s going on a bit ago. The team’s on patrol right now.”

“Slag, I can’t believe Ratchet told you,” Optimus groaned again, this time in annoyance instead of pain. “I told him not to earlier when he was fixing my vents... He’s probably going to tell the rest of the team, too. I have to get up and go supervise the patrol-” He forced himself to sit up this time, forced back a wince, forced his optics to open fully, but the second you pressed a rushed hand to his chest plates and attempted to push him back, he froze.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You argued, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as a pout formed on your face. 

“Oh, yes I do!” The Autobot argued back without hesitation, but didn’t actually move to push your hand away or leave even though he was fully capable of doing so, only resting one of his servos on the one of yours that was on his chest- stumbling and overheating or not, he was much larger and much stronger than you. Then again, he probably knew that Ratchet would beat him to a pulp the second he recovered if he dared lay a single digit on you to escape the med bay. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I don’t want it nor do I need it, and I certainly don’t want it from my team. It’s bad enough that you know. I know they’ll start asking questions when I don’t go on patrol with them, and if they hear that I got sick from overexerting myself and not getting enough rest and energon, they’ll never let me hear the end of it-”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need, so lay your stubborn ass down! I did not come here with my hair all fucked up and in this stupid robe in the middle of the night when I could’ve been sleeping just to have you run away from me when I’m trying to take care of you! You getting up right now just drives home how bad you are about prioritizing yourself,” Optimus’s plump and normally soft lips, now chapped from dehydration, pulled together into a tight frown- it was the face he made when he knew he was in the wrong. “You’re getting out of your bed when you’re supposed to be resting so you can go lie to your team and tell them you’re fine when you’re not, and for what? Your pride?”

“No, I just don’t want them to worry for me. I’m already stressed out enough and the last thing I need is for that to contribute to their struggles. They’re all dealing with so many of their own problems, and I’m sick of being a burden to everyone around me...”

Optimus huffed, but gave up and laid back down, much to your relief. He still held your hand, though, and you let him- even if he was sick, you didn’t want him to let go.

“You’re not a burden, and just like how they’re dealing with their problems, you’re dealing with yours. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved and respected, and not to insult your acting skills, but... They won’t believe you if you walk out there overheating and struggling to stay standing to tell them that you’re perfectly fine. Ratchet told me how you were stumbling around this morning.”

“I hate that you’re right,” He mumbled, and you wondered why he always had to be so childish when he was sick. 

Then again, as much as you hated Optimus’s stubborn personality, it was a major component of who you’d gone and fallen in love with all that time ago. It was crazy, you thought; just the extent that you loved Optimus Prime to, and how terribly unaware he was of it. You thought it best to keep the fact hidden, as you didn’t know what his feelings were, and he had so much on his plate already... It hurt to think that he didn’t know how loved he was- not just by you, but by everyone around him, who he was always bending over backwards for, completely unaware that they’d do the exact same for him.

“And I hate that you treat yourself like this. Plus, as much as Ratchet threatens us all with consequences for our actions, he’s not going to tell them what’s going on in depth; just that you have a fever and that you’re resting, you know he respects patient confidentiality. He’ll probably even downplay it because he knows that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“No, you’re just trying to reassure me, but...” Optimus paused and let go of your hand, fully settling back into the berth. You took your hand back and looked off to the side, already missing his touch. “I know you want to, and that Ratchet probably told you to spend the night here and take care of me, but I’m alright now. I’ll stay and rest, I promise. You can go to your room to sleep, I know you’re usually not up this late, and I’d hate to keep you up with my problems.”

You didn’t really want to leave him, but you were tired, and you believed his words. His tone was genuine enough.

“Are you sure?” You asked and received a nod in return. So, you stood up and collected yourself. “Okay, if you’re sure... I’ll leave and go get some rest, then come back at three to give you your antibiotics and make sure you’ve got something on your stomach.”

Silence. 

The second you turned around to leave, though, Optimus was grabbing the back of your robe and holding the cloth between his digits, tone low as he spoke again.

“Actually, (y/n), wait... Don’t leave me. I need you.”

You turned back around and looked at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told you seconds before that he was fine and that you should leave to go get some rest so that he could fall into recharge as well? What was with the sudden change of heart? Was there something going on with his physical condition, or was it something else?

“Huh? But Optimus, you said you needed to rest...” You muttered, which earned you a shake of his head in return.

“I will,” Optimus promised. “Please, just stay and don’t question it. I lied to you, I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone right now. Don’t leave me.”

The plead from him was unexpectedly vulnerable, honest, open. You appreciated it, but at the same time, you were concerned about what exactly was going on with him- you felt like there was more to the story than stress and leadership and lack of self-care. While all of that was definitely in character for Optimus Prime, there was something else that he wasn’t telling you about, too. With how close you were to him, it wasn’t abnormal for you to have deeper discussions, but for him to admit that he wanted- no, needed you there with him and couldn’t be alone was something you’d never thought you’d hear in your lifetime.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you tell me to go, then. Thank you for being honest with me.”

With that, you sat back down on the stool and looked at him. A little bit of that light had returned to his optics, but he still seemed like he was in rough shape.

“Thank you.”

Silence again.

Instead of adjusting to get comfortable and slip into recharge, Optimus just sat there with his back against the board of the berth, optics trained on you. It had taken a while to get used to when you’d first met him, but nowadays, you were used to the Prime’s intensity, especially when it came to eye/optic-contact. Still, though, the way he was staring at you now... You couldn’t quite interpret it. Then again, could you usually? Optimus was hard to read sometimes.

“You’re not resting,” You teased, but received a serious response in return.

“I’m thinking, and then I’ll rest.”

“You’re sick, the last thing you need to be doing is overthinking like you always do,” You reached out to him, rested your palm on the side of his face and tenderly ran a thumb over the apex of his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch with a smile.

“What if it pertains to you? It’s either I tell you and get my closure, which is daunting, or I sit here overthinking it like I always do.”

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and flinched. It had been obvious that something was on his processor, but it had to do with you? What was it? Did it have to do with your feelings? Tense, you talked again.

“...Have I done something? I’d rather you tell me.”

“You’ve made me fall in love with you.”

The words were whispered but still felt so loud, filling the room with their impact in a way that made your cheeks hot and your heart beat hard against your chest.

“Your illness must be making you delusional,” You laughed nervously, but Optimus only gave you a sloppy grin and laughed. You moved your hand to the top of his helm to check his temperature, but it hadn’t changed- as much as you wanted to believe it, you were sure he was being serious and not having feverous hallucinations like you’d initially suspected. Still, you thought it proper to ask. “Do you feel hot? Are you overheating again?”

“No, (y/n), I’m just in love with you,” Optimus peered at you, smile falling a bit. “I mean, yes, I am sick, and I’m still overheating, but I’ve been in love with you for- Ah, I’m actually not sure how long it’s been... I just know it’s been too long.”

There was a pause, in which the two of you seemed to be processing what important things were said; in the span of just a minute or two, Optimus had boldly laid his feelings out for you on the table, unabashed and proud, the tension that came with two years worth of pining that you’d been doing solved so... Quickly. You were surprised you hadn’t felt your jaw hit the floor.

Had he really loved you the whole time? Or was this a recent development? Why was he only telling you now? Had his stress over his feelings for you also contributed to his sickness?

“I’m not sure I can talk about this in good conscience when you’re so vulnerable,” You smiled back at him, (e/c) eyes meeting his ocean-hued optics as you removed your hand from his head. Shyly, he reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “It feels selfish, but... I love you, too, and that’s why I want you to rest and get better, maybe not stress out so much.”

You kissed the back of his servo as he pulled it away, earning what you hoped was a blush and not more symptoms of overheating.

“I’d kiss you if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick,” Optimus sighed. You were sure that you probably couldn’t catch whatever he had going on since he was a Cybertronian and you were human, but you didn’t want to test that theory, so you left it alone.

“It’s okay,” You reached out to hold one of his servos in both of your hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I can feel the sentiment. Just focus on getting better, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

“Sometimes I fear we don’t- Have all the time, I mean, and I suppose that’s why I finally broke down and did this- I like to believe I’m impervious to everything around me, but I’ve already died once, and every time I get sick, I always think about what will happen if I go offline without telling everyone around me just how much they mean. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, not when it came to you.”

“I...” You stood and got on top of the berth so you could sit next to Optimus, curling into his side. “Me, too.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” The Prime asked and wrapped an arm around you. Gentle. Strong. Warm.

“Would you like me to be?” You asked in return with a tilt of your head.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be here,” Optimus looked at you, clearly somewhat doubtful, but you only shook your head with a smile. “I promise, I won’t leave you. Just get some rest, okay?”

“...Okay.”

So, you stayed, and when Ratchet walked in the next morning to see you curled up by Optimus’s side on the berth with your (lip/chap)stick smeared on his servos, both of you sleeping peacefully for once, he couldn’t help but think that Optimus getting sick once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stupid Game...But They’re All in High School This Time AU (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)

Trigger warning for very graphic attempted sexual assault

"What are the rules?" Jay asked you as you double-checked your backpack to make sure you had everything for the first day of your freshman year of high school.

You sighed and zipped up your backpack. Your two older brothers, Jay a junior, and Will a senior, had already gone over and over this with you. "No spaghetti straps, no backpacks in class--"

"Not written school rules," Jay told you, abruptly cutting you off. "Unwritten school rules."

"Oh," you said as Will entered the living room, holding his car keys in his hand. "Walk on the right side of the hallways, always remember your locker combination or write it somewhere so you will remember it after long breaks, and no talking to the varsity football players unless it's Adam, Kevin, or Kelly because all the rest of them are absolute douchebags."

"There it is," Jay said and grabbed onto the handle of your backpack. "And if someone does this?" He tugged hard and you flew backward.

"Turn around and swing," you told him and quickly regained your balance once he let go.

"Jesus, Jay," Will said and smacked Jay upside the head, resulting in Jay letting out an ow in response. "Don't scare the poor girl. No one's gonna do that. It only happens in the movies." He turned back to you. "Don't listen to him."

"So, all that unwritten rules stuff I can just forget?" you asked.

"No, that was all legit. Just the backpack tug thing was a lie. Now let's go before--"

"Will, Jay, Y/N!" The three of you groaned when you heard your mom's voice calling you and then stepping into the living room. "Take off your backpacks and go on the front porch."

The three of you groaned again.

"Mom," Jay whined. "Do you we have to take a first day of school picture every single year?"

"Yes. And it's your brother's first day of senior year and your sister's first day of high school in general. So, get out on the porch and quit complaining. The faster I take this picture, the faster the three of you can leave."

You all grumbled and then went out on the porch to take a picture. Even though it was early September in Chicago, it was sweltering hot out. You thanked your lucky stars that Will's car had working AC because you knew that some of your friend's older siblings didn't have working AC in their cars and they always complained about how hot it was on the ride to and from school. But, it was better than taking the bus.

Once you had finished taking the pictures (and Jay pulled your hair in one of them so Will told Jay he has to sit in the backseat on the way to school and you got the passenger seat), you got in Will's car.

***

"So, meet you right here after school?" you asked Will when you entered the high school through the double doors of the main entrance.

"Yup. Jay, you got a ride home from soccer practice?" Will asked.

"Yeah. Adam's dropping me off at home. But I swear to God if I have to sit in the backseat one more time--"

"Give it a rest. I could've stepped on your foot, but I figured you'd need it for soccer. So, I let you off easy."

"Whatever," Jay mumbled.

You started to walk towards the freshman hallway and wondered why Jay and Will were still walking with you when you passed the junior and senior lockers. But, then you saw a huge group of varsity football players in the long hallway between the sophomore and freshman hallways, pointing at girls they thought got prettier or skinnier over the summer or new freshman girls for them to hit on or have a one night fling with.

"I'm gonna need to tell Kelly to keep his boys in line," Jay said to Will.

"No shit," Will replied.

"Don't you creeps have anything better to do?" Jay yelled at them. "And, I see at least three of you who are eighteen, so I'd recommend you stop ogling at minors and get back to watching tapes or something so we can actually make it to the playoffs this year."

"And what are you--" a football player who was obviously new on varsity stepped forward and started to say, but another one pulled him back.

"Dude, he's stronger than he looks and they're both best friends with Severide. So, shut the fuck up," he told the new varsity player.

"Yeah, listen to your friend," Will said. "C'mon, Y/N, just keep walking."

You did as he told you and shook off the weird encounter.

"They stop after homecoming," Will told you as he took a piece of paper from you and looked at what locker number you had.

"What do you mean after homecoming?" you asked.

Jay and Will shared a look. They had never told you about the game the football players had from late September/early October until homecoming which was usually mid-October/late October.

"We'll explain later," Will said. You walked a few more steps until you found your locker.

Next to you, there was a girl with blond hair who was wearing a flannel and jeans and brown combat boots who was helping a freshman with their locker as well.

"Alright," Will said. "So, this is your combination. Don't feel bad if you forget it after Christmas or spring break. Everyone goes to the office to ask for their combo when they get back, so don't feel embarrassed about it."

Will showed you how to unlock your locker, but it didn't budge. He tried it again. Nothing. Then, he let Jay have a go at it. Again, nothing.

"Need help?" the blond next to you asked. She was now done helping the other freshman with their locker.

Jay opened his mouth to tell her no, but you said yes faster than he could answer.

Will handed her the paper with the combination and she tried it. Nothing.

She looked down at another paper she was holding. "Ah, I know why this one isn't working. It's on the flagged list."

"The flagged list?" you asked.

"Yeah. They didn't have time to fix  some of the lockers during the summer, but they'll be getting to them this weekend, so you should only have to deal with it being crappy like this the first week," she answered.

She tried your combination again, pushed up on the lock, and then kicked the bottom of the locker.

It opened.

"Upton!" A teacher yelled. "No kicking lockers!"

"This one was flagged!" she yelled back. "Only way to get it to open!"

"Fine. I guess it's okay for this week." The teacher narrowed his eyes. "Halstead."

"Mr. Williams," Jay said and then turned back and rolled his eyes.

"What's up with him?" you asked Will.

"Yeah, Jay may or not have fired spitballs at Mr. Williams freshman year," Will answered.

"That was you?" the girl asked. "I remembered hearing that a soccer player did it, but I never got the name. Guess now I know it was you, Jay."

"Yes, it was me, Hailey." So, this girl's name was Hailey.

"Wait, you two know each other?" you asked.

"We had what, an English class together last year?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, first semester because then I got put in the honors class," Hailey said.

"That class always seemed so much more for than the normal class," Jay mused.

"Too bad you can't write papers for shit," Will told his little brother.

"Shut up," Jay groaned.

Will looked up at one of the digital clocks in the hallway. "We should get going," he said. "We've only got fifteen minutes until we have to be in homeroom."

"Good luck, fresh meat," Jay joked and you rolled your eyes as your two older brothers walked off to their wing of the school that housed their lockers.

"Want some help putting your things in here?" Hailey asked. "I have a pass to get to class half an hour late since I'm on student council and helping you guys out."

"Uh, sure, since you're here. Mind if I close my locker and then try opening it myself?" you asked.

"Go for it."

You closed your locker and then did the exact same thing she did to get your locker open, including the kick. It opened on your first try.

"Perfect!" Hailey said. You unzipped your backpack and you and Hailey stooped down to grab folders, binders, and notebooks out of it. "I'm sorry, I never actually introduced myself. I'm Hailey Upton."

"Y/N Halstead," you replied. "Those two doofuses who just left are my brothers, Jay and Will, seems like you already knew Jay, though."

"I mean, I don't really know him. I guess I know of him if that makes sense."

"Makes total sense."

The two of you continued to put stuff in your locker until everything was in there, just in time for the five-minute bell to ring.

You looked at your schedule. "You don't happen to know where Mr. V's room is, do you? My brothers told me it's not in the freshman or sophomore halls."

"Oh, yeah. You just go down the connecting hallway and past the junior and senior lockers and then you'll see-- you know what, I'll walk you there. It's kind of hard to find."

"Thank you."

"No problem. We've all been freshmen before."

***

Hailey entered her AP biology class just as the late bell rang. She took the first empty seat she saw...which ended up being next to none other than Will Halstead.

"Hey," Hailey said. "This seat wasn't saved, was it?"

"No," Will replied. "It's yours now." He looked at Hailey. "You were the one who helped my sister with her locker this morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Hailey."

"Will," he told her.

"So," their teacher, Mr. Davis began, "since this is an AP class, there will be a lot more homework than a typical biology class. I also know some of you are juniors, so I hope that you take AP anatomy and physiology next year with me if you do well in this class. As for you seniors who are taking this AP class and AP A and P--which stands for anatomy and physiology by the way--I know that the first three chapters of this class overlap a lot, so I'm sorry if you get bored.

"But, the person you have chosen to sit next to, will be your partner for any projects we have this semester. And, they aren't typical projects like presentations and the like. They're mostly practice AP tests that I want you to take with another person so that you can talk over the answers and make sure you don't make the same mistake twice. Obviously, around February, I'll ask you to take the practice tests by yourself so that you can practice for the real tests.

"Every chapter there will be presentations. I will give each pair a sub-topic of the chapter and I want you to do a five to ten minute presentation on it for the class. I also want you to put together a Kahoot for your subsection after the presentation because I found that that makes students pay way more attention than when there isn't one because everyone wants to win."

Hailey raised her hand. "Yes, remind me of your name," he said when he pointed to Hailey.

"Hailey," she told him.

"Hailey," he repeated and scribbled her name on the piece of paper with the seating chart on his desk. "Oh, and after I go over all this, I would like all of you to come and write your name on the seating chart. Hailey of course won't have to write her name because she doesn't need to be on there twice. Anyway, what was your question?"

"I was just wondering how many practice tests we'll have to take and how often you were should meet up with our partner outside of school?" Hailey asked.

"Both great questions. For the practice tests, we'll start taking them in November because that gives us time to go over the format and content. Don't worry, I won't put any new content on the practice tests. I'm not that mean. You'll take one in November, one in December, and one in January. These will all be done with your seat partner. Then, from February on, you'll have one every month, but these will be taken by yourselves so that you get used to it before the actual test.

"As for meeting up with your partner, I'd recommend every two weeks. That way you won't fall behind on the presentations."

Hailey nodded and scribbled this information down in her notebook. But, she was also nervous. She couldn't let Will come to her house. She just had to hope that Will would have all the meetings at his house.

***

"How was your first day?" Will asked when you met him at the main doors after school.

"It was good. Not as scary as you guys made it seem. Still need to make sure I get to my classes on time, though," you replied as the two of you walked out of the building and through the parking lot towards his car.

"They'll give you a grace period to get to class on time," Will told you. "It's usually a week, week and a half until they start handing out tardies."

You were about to ask how his day was, when someone yelling stopped you.

"Nice ass, Halstead!"

Your jaw dropped and your eyes bugged out of your head as you and Will both turned around. Of course, it was a varsity football player who yelled that, of course, it was.

Will put his hand in front of you. "Y/N, I'm gonna give you my keys and you're going to unlock my car and get inside."

"Will, he's not worth it," you argued.

"Y/N, take my damn keys. I don't want you anywhere near this."

You relented and took his keys and then went and got in the passenger seat of his car. But, you watched as everything unfolded.

Will stalked up to the football player, who he knew was Derek Evans, the school fuck boy who every girl liked because he was a shoo-in to get drafted by the NFL right after high school and had really good looks even though he was a total sexist asshole.

"What the fuck did you just say to my sister?" Will roared.

"Said she had a nice ass," he replied while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You son of a--" Will lunged at him but Kevin and Kelly ran in to hold him back. Turns out they were walking out of school and saw the entire exchange.

"Will! calm the fuck down!" Kelly shouted as he pushed Will back.

"Did you not hear what he said?" Will yelled as he kept reaching out to Derek.

Kevin was pushing Derek back, too.

"We did. But you can't be fighting on the first day. If you're gonna do it, do it somewhere else not on school grounds."

"Both you, take a damn breath and walk away," Kevin told them.

Kelly pushed Will back and then grabbed his arm and walked him towards his car while Kevin walked Derek towards the football field.

"You better fucking do something about that, Severide," Will told him.

"Believe me, I'll make sure he runs lap for the entirety of practice."

"I meant punch his face in."

"Can't do that, man. I got scholarships on the line."

"At least let me bring my baseball bat to school and bash his face in. If my batting average is any indication, I could knock him out and kill him in one swing."

"That would be murder and then you'd be in prison instead of going to med school." Kelly paused and took a deep breath. "I guess now's not a great time to tell you, but freshmen are up for grabs in the game this year. The players all said they weren't going to do it because the coaches banned it, but they're going to try and be sneaky. Only writing the points down on paper and burning it, no texting about it or putting it on social media, you can only talk about it on the phone or in person, and it can't be talked about at school."

"Fuck. So the girls won't really know what's going on until it starts."

"Exactly. Just, let Y/N know, okay? And have her pass it on to some of the other freshmen...because we both know if they go to Principal White he won't do shit."

"Yeah, he's as much of a son of a bitch as Evans. But, I'll tell her. Thanks, Kelly."

***

"Jay!" Will yelled when Jay walked inside all sweaty after his soccer practice.

"What? Dude, I need a shower," he said as he threw his soccer bag and his backpack down by the door.

"Better pick that up before Mom gets home. She'll be pissed if she comes home at 3 am and trips over it."

Your mom was a nurse and worked from 2:30 pm-2:30 am, which meant she only saw you in the morning for four days a week...even though she's only supposed to work three days a week, so 36 hours, but she always picked up an extra day so that she could put some money in all of your guys' college funds. Sometimes, she'd even work five days a week and she'd be exhausted once her week was over. But, she was the hardest worker you knew and inspired you to work as hard as you possibly could at everything you did; you never did anything half-assed because you never saw your mom do that. She always gave it her all.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I want to shower," Jay said.

"Wait five minutes. This is important," Will told him.

Jay sat down on the couch next to him. "Fine. What is it?"

So, Will explained what happened when he and you walked out of school today and how Kelly had to hold him back so that he wouldn't beat Derek Evans to a pulp. He also told him that the game was still on...and this time freshmen are fair game.

"Fucking hell," Jay muttered.

"Yeah," Will agreed.

"Should we tell her?"

"Probably. The sooner the better, too."

"Okay. Let me jump in the shower and then we can tell her and tell her how to protect herself."

Ten minutes later, Jay was out of the shower and he knocked on your bedroom door, Will right behind him. When he didn't get an answer after a few rounds of knocking, he opened your door.

"She's sleeping. Guess we'll have to tell her when she wakes up," Jay said.

"As long as we tell her tonight," Will said. "The more time she has to prepare for what's to come, the better."

***

"Jesus. Fuck," you muttered as you rolled over and looked at the time on your phone. After stretching and jumping out of bed, you walked from your bedroom into the kitchen, to see your brothers both eating pasta. "Neither of you two bothered to wake me up? It's 6:30."

"Figured you needed the sleep," Will shrugged. "Dinner's in the fridge. Mom made lasagna."

You grabbed yourself a plate and then put some lasagna on it and put it in the microwave. Then you sat down across from Jay and Will who were both sitting on the same side of the kitchen table.

"How was your first day?" Jay asked.

"Good...other than Wiliams making me sit in the front right in front of his desk. I don't mind the front because then I can see the board easier, but his desk, really? This one's all your fault." You pointed your fork at Jay.

Jay held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, really wasn't thinking about you when I fired those spitballs."

"What were you thinking about?" Will asked.

"That I needed to aim for his head."

"My god, you're a child," you laughed. "And, Will about ripped a football player's head off today. I think his name was Derek? He would've, too if Kelly didn't hold him back."

"But he said you had a nice ass," Will quoted. "Pretty sure that warrants me ripping his head off."

"Will's right," Jay agreed. "I would've pushed past Kelly and beat Evans to a pulp."

"Good to know you guys have my back. But, I'm in high school now. You can't keep fighting my battles for me."

"Too bad," Will said. "You're stuck with us."

"Ugh," you groaned and took a bite of your lasagna. "How was your day, Will?" you asked once you had finished the bite. "Any talk of what the senior prank will be?"

"We didn't actually talk about that. But, the girl who helped you with your locker, Hailey, she's my partner in my AP bio class," Will answered. Jay coughed. "You alright there, Jay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Anyway," Will began, "she'll be coming round here a bit because we have to do these presentations. She said her brothers are usually home, so she'll probably come here most of the time. Oh, Y/N, she also told me to tell you that if there's ever a day where you can't find anyone to sit with at lunch, that you can always sit with her."

"Really? That's so nice of her. I wish I had classes with her," you said.

"Okay, since it's obvious neither of you is going to ask about my day because I'm the forgotten middle child," Jay started, causing both you and Will to roll your eyes, "I'm just gonna tell you. Nothing important happened. They just drilled that we have to take the SAT into our heads. Oh, and we have read like this 16th century crap in English 11, so that sucks."

"English 11 is the worst," Will agreed. "Good luck."

The three of you continued to eat and the Will started talking again when he and Jay were finished and you were almost done.

"So, Y/N, there's this sick and twisted tradition at school," Will began with a worried look on his face. "And it ends after homecoming."

"So that's what you were implying earlier," you said.

"Yeah, so what happens is that the football players kinda sorta get dares to do, but they aren't specifically dares. It's like there's a list of things they do with a girl and there's points attached to them. Like, apparently if a guy grabs a girl's ass in the hallway or anywhere else on the school's campus or at a school event, it's 50 points. But, since that's pretty tame, that's the only one that actually has to be done on campus. The rest of them can be off or on-campus...but they'd probably be off-campus," Will explained.

"I'm confused. So they get points for assaulting us?" you asked.

"Technically, it's just harassment...but some of the other ones could be classified as assault. But, those ones are supposed to be consensual, so the only risk you really run is having your butt grabbed in the hallway. Jay, you wanna take it from here?"

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered. "Usually freshmen are off-limits, but this year they changed the rules, so they're allowed. But, Kelly, Kevin, and Adam opted out because they're decent human beings, so if you see them in the hallway, you're safe; you don't have to be scared of them."

"But the rest...?" you trailed off.

"The rest of the varsity football team you need to be aware of."

"So, when does this game start and what do I do?"

"It starts in two weeks and goes on for a month, so until homecoming. As for what to do, well most girls just wear long shirts to cover their butts and not wear super tight pants," Jay told you.

"And if me or Jay have a class close to one of yours, we can walk you to your locker or to your next class. That should help a bit," Will offered.

"Thanks. That might help. But, why hasn't Mr. White stopped it?" you asked.

"Because he's as much of a sexist asshole as the football players. But, it's only a month. You can get through it," Will promised.

"God I hope so."

***

It had been two weeks since you started high school and in two days that stupid game of grab ass would begin. Hailey and Will were currently working on their presentation in the kitchen and Jay was playing at an away soccer game...which is where your mom was, too. You were sitting in your room working on your planner for next week.

You looked at your planner and saw Monday was circled and said The Game in black ink. God, why did guys have to be such sexist pigs? Just because they were the football players didn't mean they got on pass on all the school rules and hell, even all the general rules of society.

You shook your head and turned up your music and started writing in your classes for that week in your planner.

A few songs later, you thought you heard a knock on your door, so you took out one of your headphones. "Yeah?" you asked.

"Y/N, it's Hailey. Can I come in?" she asked from the other side of your door.

"Yeah," you told her as you took out the other headphone and paused your music. "What's up?" you asked when she entered.

"Will told me you're really nervous for the game starting this week?" she motioned to the spot next to you on your bed. "Can I sit?" You nodded and she sat down. "Honestly, you just have to be on high alert for a whole month. Try to walk by other people whenever you can and, I think Will said they already told you this, but don't wear tight-fitting clothing."

"They did. I just don't know what to wear."

"Well, I can help you with that. Let's go through your clothes and we'll take out what you can't wear during this and put it in another drawer, okay?"

"That sounds good." You closed your planner and you and Hailey began going through your dresser and closet.

"Another tip," she started, "if you have the chance to knee one of them in the balls, then do it. Why do you think they stopped coming after me halfway through the game last year?"

"You kneed a football player in the balls?" you asked as your eyes went wide.

"Mhm. Did it to the captain of the football team last year. He was a senior, so he's not here anymore, but now all the football boys know not to mess with me."

"I will most definitely keep that one in mind."

***

Jay met up with you that Thursday after one of his classes because it was in the same hall as yours. "Day going good?" he asked as his eyes darted side to side, clearly in overprotective big brother mode.

"Yeah, and no one's tried anything yet, so I guess that's a good thing," you told him.

You were focused on dodging people in the hallway so you had time to stop by your locker and change out your books, go to the bathroom, and then get to your next class all within the span of five minutes (your school really needed to make passing time at least seven to eight minutes instead of five), so you didn't hear the booming laughter of a few varsity football players behind you...but Jay did.

"Back the fuck off," Jay growled as none other than Derek Evans reached out to grab your ass. But, Jay stopped him by turning around and walking backward to shield your backside and then grabbing Derek's outstretched hand.

"Aww, look guys, the little freshman needs her big brother to protect her," Derek mocked.

"From you, yeah she does. You're a sick fuck, Evans...and that goes for your posse, too."

"Let go of my hand, Halstead."

Jay narrowed his eyes, but he let go. "Next time you try to grab my sister, that arm will be twisted so far back behind you that you can kiss your senior season goodbye."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes and then turned around to go back the other way, towards his actual class.

"Thanks," you said as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Don't mention it."

***

Jay made his way out of a classroom later that day and saw Hailey, so he made his way over to her.

"I don't need protecting, Jay," she told him.

"I know," Jay replied. "Everyone knows about you kneeing the captain last year. Great job on that by the way. I know I'm a year late, but that was a good move on your part."

"Thanks. It was just a reflex, honestly."

"And thanks for helping Y/N with the clothes thing. She was really nervous."

Hailey waved a hand flippantly. "That was nothing, just a girl helping another girl out."

"As the world should be," Jay agreed. Hey, his mother taught him to look at women as equals and he was going to treat Hailey as such...now that he knew she could protect herself from all these assholes. Because if she hadn't kneed that captain where the sun don't shine last year, you best believe he'd be on high alert for the varsity football players just like he was with you a few classes ago. "So, our practice got canceled because of the rain and the football game got canceled, too. So, me, Adam, and Kelly were gonna go out for tacos at that place across the street, but Adam's bringing his girlfriend, Kim, and Kelly's bringing his girlfriend, Stella, and I don't want to third-wheel, so do you maybe want to go with me? That is if you don't have to be home right after school."

Her dad didn't get home until 5:30. "Sure," she told him. "I just have to be home by 4:30. But, I normally take the bus, so unless one of you can bring me home, I can't come." She figured getting home an hour early would work well so that she wasn't rushing.

"Adam's bringing me home, so I'm sure he can stop by your house, too. Where do you live?" Jay asked. She told him her address. "That's only a block away from me. I'm sure he can bring you home. I'll text him and then text you." He held out his phone. "Put your number in."

So, Hailey put her number in his phone. Then, she handed it back to him and they hurried to get to their respective classes before the late bell rang.

But, she was wondering why she was blushing so much as she turned away and why all these butterflies had erupted in her stomach when their fingers brushed against each other's when she handed his phone back to him. She wasn't falling for Jay Halstead. There was no way, right?

***

"So, party this weekend. Everyone in?" Adam asked as the six of them ate tacos.

"Whose house?" Kelly asked.

Adam said a name of a football player and told them it was Saturday night,  and they all agreed to go...except for Hailey, who spouted off some excuse about how she had to be up early on Sunday, so she couldn't go. Jay was disappointed that he wouldn't have an excuse to dance with her, but he figured there'd be other parties.

"Mom's working that night," Jay said. "So, as long as I'm home by like 2:45, I should be good. Will will probably be down, too. Then Natalie will probably come."

"Great. I'll text him so he knows how much beer to have his older brother buy...but I'm sure they'll buy extra because more people usually show up anyway."

They talked and ate for another hour before they had to leave so Hailey could get home on time.

Jay and Hailey sat in the backseat of Adam's car while Adam and Kim sat in the front.

When they pulled up to Hailey's house, Jay offered to walk her to the door, but she told him no, that he didn't have to. He insisted, but she still said no, so he let it go and she got out of the car and went inside her house.

"Dude, you so like her," Adam said as they drove another block to his house.

"I do not. I don't know what you're talking about. She's just a friend," he argued.

Adam snorted. "Yeah right. And I'm the fucking king of England."

"You should ask her to homecoming," Kim suggested.

"Kim! Not you, too!"

"It's obvious. You should ask her. She might just surprise you."

***

You woke up Saturday night to your phone ringing and breaking you out of a peaceful sleep. You rubbed your eyes and looked at the time and the caller. Why the hell was Jay calling you when it was past one in the morning?

"Hello?" you asked sleepily.

"Y/N, me and Will need your help," Jay said.

You immediately sat up. "What do you mean? I thought you were home. Where the hell are you?"

"We went to a party and we couldn't risk you telling Mom, so we snuck out around 11 when we knew you were sleeping. But, Kelly's the DD and he had two drinks, so he can't drive us home. He's not drunk off his ass, but if we get pulled over and they pull out a breathalyzer, we're all shit outta luck."

"Why can't you do it?" you asked. "You sound pretty sober to me."

"I'm two and a half beers deep and it'll probably be four by the time you get here."

"Fucking  hell, Jay. And me? You seem to forget that I don't have my license yet, just my permit. I can't come get you. You're just gonna have to wait until Mom gets home and call her."

"No! No way is Mom finding out!"

"What's in it for me? I'm not breaking the law and coming to get your dumbasses for free. And I need something from both you and Will."

"Fine," Jay huffed. "Name your price."

"You do my laundry for a month and Will does my algebra homework for a month."

"Two weeks. We'll do those for two weeks," Jay said.

"No. Three weeks or I'm not coming and you get to suffer the wrath of Mom."

"Fine," he relented. "I'll text you the address."

***

You drove Will's car like an old grandma on the way to the house party, sometimes going ten miles under the speed limit. There was no way you were getting busted for your brothers.

You turned off your car and parked in the closest spot you could find to the house where the party was at. Then, you pulled out your phone and texted both Jay and Will that you were there.

Five minutes passed...then ten and still no answer from either of them.

"Fucking hell," you muttered as you unbuckled and then grabbed the keys and got out of Will's car and locked it, safely zipping the keys in one of your sweatshirt pockets. "I swear to God if both of them are three sheets to the wind and I have to drag their asses out of there, I will not be fucking happy."

You started to walk towards the party, looking at your phone every couple of seconds to see if either of your brothers had texted you back.

You gasped when you felt someone grab your ass.

"Fifty points," he whispered in your ear and then grabbed your wrist.

Derek Evans.

"Let me go!" you told him as you tried to pull away from him.

"No can do, freshman. It's 500 points for fucking a freshman and there's no way I'm passing up that opportunity."

"Let me go!" you screamed. You even dropped your phone to the ground to try to use your other hand to pry his hand off your wrist. But, he just laughed and kept holding you. Then, he stomped on your phone, breaking it into pieces.

You kept screaming, but the music was so loud that no one could hear you. And, you tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him, but it was no use; he was too strong.

Eventually, he got tired of dragging you and just picked you up. You punched and kicked him, but it didn't seem to work. It was like this senior was immune to pain.

He got to a shed near the side of the house and quite literally threw you against it. You groaned and took a few deep breaths. In that time, Derek had ripped his shirt off and grabbed your wrists with one hand. You dug your nails into his hands. You weren't going down without a fight.

"That's cute," he laughed. "You think some nails are going to stop me."

He dragged you over a few inches and then used some of his shirt to secure your wrists to the fence that separated this house from the one next to it.

"Help! Help!" you yelled. "Somebody help me!"

Your head flew to the right as he slapped you across the face. "Shut the fuck up!"

You whimpered and then started kicking your feet. But, he just walked away and watched you struggle as he removed his pants. Then, he sat on your legs. You couldn't kick anymore, so you started screaming even louder. He slapped you a few more times across the face until you finally  shut up because, fuck, that hurt. That just left you whimpering at his mercy as he fumbled with the string on your pajama pants. (You hadn't bothered changing your pants when you came to get your brothers, only threw on a bra on under your t-shirt.) You didn't know what to do. No one was going to save you and you were completely and utterly helpless.

***

Kelly Severide knew you were coming to pick them up as Jay had told him that when he was on his way to grab his fourth beer. He hadn't heard anything from Jay or Will yet but figured they were both shit-faced. So, he tried to text you. No reply. He tried to call. No answer.

So, Kelly walked out onto the back porch and started around the side of the house to see if you had parked. But then, he heard whimpering and what sounded like a slap and then a yelp. He started running.

When he saw what was happening, he saw red.

You were lying on the grass whimpering while Derek was just in his boxers. You wanted him to stop smacking your thighs and face because god, you were fucking hurting and you were also fucking terrified about what was going to happen next.

"Please," you whimpered. "Please, st--"

"You son of a bitch!"

Before you could even register who yelled that, Derek was thrown off of you and to the ground.

You caught your breath and just laid there panting and crying while Kelly did a number on Derek's face. He sent more punches to his stomach until he finally doubled over and groaned in pain. Then, he kicked him in the back and he fell to the ground. Kelly placed his foot on Derek's back. "Stay the fuck down you fucking bastard."

He pulled out his phone and called 911. "Hello, I'd like to report a sexual assault."

***

Will felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "Kelly, where the hell are you, man?" he asked as he dirty danced with Natalie on the dance floor.

"Will, you need to come out by the shed now," he said, still with his foot on Derek's back, keeping him down. Kelly felt terrible that he couldn't untie you, but he couldn't risk Derek getting up and trying to finish what he started.

"Why? You snorting coke out there? Because count me out. I don't do that."

"No. It's Y/N. She was- she-- It's that stupid fucking game some of the bastards I call teammates are playing. An ambulance and the cops are on their way."

Will's mouth went dry. It went dry when he heard the game part, but now it was as if it was sandpaper.

"Jay's by me. We'll be there in a second."

Will pocketed his phone and let go of Natalie. "Baby, what's wrong?" she asked.

"It's Y/N. I think one of those football players got to her."

"Fuck a freshman." Adam's eyes went wide as he let go of Kim.

"What? What about fucking?" Jay asked as he went to take another sip of his beer, but Will swatted it out of his hand.

"We need to go. Now." He grabbed Jay's arm. "Adam, explain."

The three of them started running, Jay barely being able to run in a straight line and Natalie and Kim hot on their heels, and Adam explained how he heard about one part of the game that was called fuck a freshman. But, he thought it was a joke because he didn't know for sure because he didn't sign up for the game.

"Well, obviously it's not a joke!"

Will saw Kelly with his foot on Derek's back before he saw you.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" he yelled.

"Will!" you cried.

"Y/N, hold on. We're here, we're here." He knelt down next to you and untied the t-shirt that kept your wrists tied to the fence.

It took Jay a minute, but then he realized what happened...it also took Kim shaking him and telling him she was going to slap him across the face and then actually doing it. Now that sobered him up.

You could hear sirens in the distance.

"Me and Natalie will go get them," Will said. "You three good here?"

"We're good. Now go get help," Kelly said.

***

The ride to the hospital was a blur. You were still freaking out, so the paramedics had to give you a light sedative to calm down. You remembered your brothers being in the back of the ambulance with you and you remembered Jay puking in a bucket from all the beer he drank.

You vaguely remembered the doctors asking you questions and taking pictures of your bruises. You also remembered them telling the three police officers that they couldn't question you yet. And then, you fell asleep.

***

You slowly opened your eyes and squinted against the bright hospital lights.

Damn, it must've taken me a helluva long time to get the boys out of that party if I'm waking up when the sun is this bright, you thought to yourself.

But, then you looked at your surroundings and it all came flooding back to you.

"Mama, Mama," you cried.

"I'm here, honey, I'm here," she said as she gently grabbed your hand.

You tried to sit up, but your thighs and stomach hurt so bad from Derek hitting you that you couldn't.

"I want a hug but I can't sit up," you cried as tears started to stream down your face.

She stood up and bent over the bed and wrapped her arms around you. It was an uncomfortable position for her because she was bending over to hug you, but she didn't care. You were her little girl and she'd do anything to make you feel safe and loved.

Will and Jay sat in the chairs on the other side of your bed. You hadn't even realized they were there. Will had tears in his eyes and Jay had a hand over his mouth trying to stop a sob from coming out. God, if he wouldn't have called you to pick them up, then this wouldn't have happened. It was all his fault this happened to you.

A knock on the door sounded and your mom let go of you and the two of you looked towards the door.

It was Hailey.

Jay looked to you to see if it was okay that she came in and you nodded.

"Hey," she said as she entered. "I brought donuts. Figured you might be hungry."

You were glad she didn't ask if you were okay because it was apparent that you most definitely were not okay.

You nodded and she walked over to you and opened the box. "You get first pick."

You picked a raspberry-filled one and then proceeded to take tiny bites of your donut. It hurt too much to open your mouth a lot because your cheeks and chin were heavily bruised.

You almost finished your donut, when there was another knock on the door. This time it was three police officers. Then, they opened the door.

"Y/N, I'm Trudy Platt and this is Detective Alvin Olinsky and Detective Hank Voight. We're here to take a few statements about what happened," the officer told you.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked. You did drive without a license.

"No, not at all. We just need to know what happened. We can give you a minute to finish eating if you would like?"

"Can I do it now?"

"Of course." She turned to your mom. "Mom, you want to stay in the room?"

"If I can--"

"I don't want you to know the details, Mom. Please," you pleaded as more tears fell.

"Are you sure? I'll love you no matter what, honey. Good or bad, you're still my little girl."

"I know. But I just- I want to be alone."

"Okay, me and the boys and Hailey will be right outside."

The four of them left and the two detectives left as well, leaving only you and this officer known as Trudy Platt.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked when the door shut.

"Oh, honey, no," Trudy said as she sat down in the seat your mom was previously sitting in.

"But, I drove without my license be- because they asked me to pick them up and then- and then--"

"Y/N, you are not in any trouble. Kelly Severide told us most of the story about what happened, but we need to hear it in your own words. And you can take as long as you want. Take as much time as you need."

So you told her what happened.

"It's all my fault. If I would've never agreed to go pick up Will and Jay--"

"This is not your fault. None of this is your fault," she told you.

"But why does it feel like it is? If I could've just fought him off, maybe this wouldn't have happened." You wiped your eyes with the heels of your hands and let out a strangled sob which was more like a yell. "Why do boys get away with everything?"

She pulled the chair closer to your bed. "Y/N, you have my word that he won't be getting away with what he did to you. I promise you he won't get away with it."

"But how do you know that? You can't possibly know that!"

"Because I have two of the best detectives working with me and I just know that he won't get away with what he did to you."

After a few more minutes and explaining that you really didn't want to go through a trial, Trudy left the room. She also handed you her card in case you changed your mind about the trial.

Then, Trudy Platt went to the bathroom where she saw the other girl who was in the room with you while she was washing her hands. As the girl was scrubbing her hands, Trudy noticed a bruise on her arm, a little above her wrist. It was low enough that it could be hidden by long sleeves, but that it could also ride up when the girl was washing her hands.

"You're one of Y/N's friends?" Trudy asked.

"Yeah. Me and her brother got paired up for a project and I was supposed to meet him this morning, but he texted saying family emergency. So, I thought I'd bring them breakfast," Hailey answered.

"That's very kind of you. Were you at the party last night?"

"No, I was at home."

"Is that where you hurt your arm?"

Hailey quickly pulled on her sweatshirt sleeve "No, I uh, I hit it on my locker a few days ago."

Trudy knew this girl was lying. She had worked enough domestic and child abuse cases to know the usual excuses. So, she pulled out her business card and handed it to Hailey. "This is my business card. My cell phone number is on there as well. Call me if you need help getting out."

***

Trudy, Hank, and Al entered the district and then went into the basement where there were no cameras.

"I think we can all agree on not putting that the girl was driving without a license in the reports," Trudy started.

"Agreed," Al said. "What about the boys?"

"We leave out that they were drinking, too," Hank said. "The only people who know that they were drinking are us three and them since they obviously can't take a breathalyzer now, there's no use in putting it in the reports. They were just kids being kids."

"Yeah, except for the asshole who assaulted her," Al stated.

"Yeah, except for him. We're throwing the book at that bastard," Hank agreed.

"She said she didn't want to go through a trial," Trudy said.

"What? Why not?" Hank asked.

"She said that she didn't think that anyone would believe her. He's a senior who everyone likes, hell, this whole town knows he's going to be drafted. So, she thinks he wouldn't get in trouble if he does actually go to trial."

Hank sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Well, we have 48 hours to hold him, and then me and Al will figure out how to take care of this."

***

"Are you hungry?" your mom asked when you got home later that day. The hospital had discharged you since all your injuries were superficial, such as the bruises on your face, wrist stomach, and thighs.

"No," you muttered. "I'm gonna go to my room."

"Okay, well if you want to be alone, that's fine, but I took FMLA leave, so I'll be home for a while. Take all the time you need, honey."

You nodded and then walked into your room and cuddled under your blankets. Since it was the afternoon, there was still a bit of sunlight coming in from beneath your blinds, which you were thankful for. You turned on your fan and allowed it to blow lightly on you. You were glad that you always used your fan for white noise so that you could sleep, but it also helped to muffle your quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow.

Meanwhile, Hailey, Will, Jay, and your mom were in the kitchen. Hailey had come home with you and your family so that she and Will could work on their presentation. She said it was fine, that she could go home, but Will said working on the presentation would be a welcome distraction.

"What's FMLA leave?" Jay asked.

"It's the Family Medical Leave Act," she answered as she sat down at the kitchen table. "It means I can have up to twelve weeks unpaid leave at work and still be guaranteed a job when I get back. But, I'll probably just take half of that, because uh, I won't be making any money during that time."

"I can see if I can get my summer job back," Will immediately offered. "I know I said I can only work during the summer, but I can work on the weekends even if it's only ten hours a week and I've only been off for a month, so they should probably be able to rehire me--"

"Honey," your mom said, cutting him off. "I really appreciate you thinking of that. But it's your senior year and you're taking four AP classes. School comes first. We'll get through it. This is only temporary and I do have a savings account in case of emergencies and we should be fine."

"Okay, well, you can always tell me to talk to my boss if I need to," Will said. Then, he turned to Hailey. "I'll go grab my stuff and then we can work on the project."

Will walked away to his room, leaving Jay, your mom, and Hailey. "Can I get you anything, Hailey?" your mom asked. "Water, coffee?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine," Hailey said. This wasn't about her. She knew that you needed your mom and that your mom needed time to feel what happened as well. "Thank you, though."

"I'm gonna go check on Y/N and then go for a drive. If anything happens with her, Jay, I need either you or Will to call me right away."

"We will, Mom, don't worry."

Your mom pulled Jay into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom." Normally, Jay wouldn't have hugged his mom when his friends were around--or whatever he considered Hailey--, but he knew his mom needed it, so he returned her hug.

"Be back soon."

Then, she checked on you and seeing that you were asleep, grabbed her keys, and left.

"I'm gonna put on a pot of coffee," Jay said. "I know you said you were good, but you can have some if you want." He made his way to the cupboard and grabbed the container of ground-up coffee beans and started putting them into a filer.

"Thanks. Might take you up on that when me and Will are working. A little liquid focus never hurt anyone," she replied.

"No doubt."

Hailey paused, she wanted to keep talking with Jay but didn't know what to say. She didn't want to mention last night either. "So, are you taking any AP classes?" she asked. "You know, since Will's apparently taking four."

"Will's a psychopath and no, I'm not. Too much work if you ask me. If I was planning on going to college, I might take a few, but I'm not."

"Oh. Then what are you planning to do?"

"Maybe the army. My mom doesn't like the thought of me fighting in wars, but she supports my decision. I just don't feel like studying is for me."

"What branch?" Hailey asked.

He raised his eyebrows at how interested she was. "I was thinking the Army Rangers. They're the first ones on the ground in war zones."

"Sounds dangerous. You're practically flying blind."

"Oh, but that's what makes it fun."

Hailey laughed. "You're an adrenaline junkie, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah. I love rollercoasters...and anything else that gets my heart racing."

"Hear about that new coaster at Cedar Point?"

"Yeah!" Jay exclaimed. And, before he even had time to process what he was about to say, he blurted it out anyway. "Maybe we could go together sometime."

Did he just ask me out? Hailey thought to herself. "I'd like that." She smiled.

"Am I invited?" Will asked as he walked down the hallway, overhearing their conversation.

"Uh," Jay blanched.

"Dude, chill. I know you were trying to ask her out--"

Jay's phone rang before he could yell at Will to knock it off and Hailey just took a seat at the table blushing really badly while she did so.

"It's Kev," Jay said while glaring at his older brother. "I gotta take this." He accepted the call and started to walk down the hall to the bedroom that he shared with Will. "Hey, man."

Jay closed his bedroom door and sat on his bed. "Adam just told me that Evans tried to rape your sister?"

Jay ran a hand down his face. "Uh, yeah, if Kelly wouldn't have gotten there when he did, who knows what would've happened."

"Is she okay? Is he in jail? Is she in the hospital?"

Jay knew that Kevin would react protectively since he had a younger sister, Vanessa, who was in seventh grade, just two years younger than you.

"I mean, physically her injuries are just bruising." He took a deep, shaky breath to stop himself from crying. "I think they're holding Evans and we just got home from the hospital. Y/N's sleeping now."

"Evans is so fucking lucky I wasn't there. Adam said that Kelly beat his face in pretty bad, but I'd do worse. I probably would've killed him, at least given him brain damage from a concussion."

"You and me both."

"And, uh, Adam said the cops are gonna talk to all the football players?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. The detective did mention that. He also told me and Will not to go after Evans, but--"

"You're not gonna listen?" Kevin asked.

"I'll probably wait two weeks so he thinks he's safe and then go after him. You're more than welcome to help."

"I'll cover for you that night."

"Thanks, man. So, the cops talk to you yet?" Jay asked.

"Not yet. But I really don't have anything to say. I didn't participate and I would never participate. Might mention that White never tried to stop it and Coach Davis said it was off-limits, though."

"You think Davis knew what was going on?" Jay asked.

"There's no way. If he knew, he would've kicked all of them off the team. He doesn't fuck with stuff like that. White, on the other hand, well, we both know how that cat rolls."

"I should've mentioned that when they were talking to me earlier this morning. I was just, I was so worried about Y/N."

"I get it. I'd be the same way if this happened with Vanessa. I'll tell them about it. You just make sure she's okay. And, if you, her, Will, or your mom need anything, gimme a call. I'd be happy to help."

"Thanks, Kev."

"Good luck planning your revenge. Tell me what the cover is."

"Oh don't worry, I will."

***

Two weeks later

Jay popped the screen out of his window. "You can put this back in, right?" he asked Will.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Go give Evans hell for what he did to Y/N," he replied as he got out of bed and stood by the window.

"You know, still time for you to come with me."

"I got accepted to college already. I'm not about to jeopardize that. Cover still that Kev called and needed help babysitting Vanessa and Jordan?"

"That's the one. I'll crash at his house after this is done just so it seems believable. See you tomorrow."

"See you. Don't get beat up too badly."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right."

Then, he started the three-mile walk to Derek Evan's house.

So, Jay had decided not to actually beat him up because his parents were home and he didn't want to have to deal with the parents. Derek and the cops he could handle, but having his parents yell that they want to press charges and scream at him, yeah no. He had stashed a can of black spray paint in a bush in his front yard and grabbed it when he was leaving. He planned on spray painting rapist on Derek's white car. Even though he didn't technically rape you, he tried to, so the word still stands.

Jay got there and pulled his hat down over his face. Then, he walked up the driveway and to Derek's car. He shook the can of spray paint and took the cap off. His finger was down on the button--

"Chicago PD!"

Fuck.

***

"Your last name's Halstead?" the cop who picked him up asked when they entered the 21st District.

"Yes, sir," he answered, his head hanging low and the can of spray paint still in his hand.

"Well, I need you to take a seat right there while I make a phone call. Do not move."

"Yes, sir."

Jay sat down on the bench across from the front desk and pulled out his phone. He sent texts to both Kevin and Will.

Cops caught me. At a police station right now. Will, don't you fucking dare tell Mom.

They replied that they were shocked, but Kevin said he could always come pick Jay up if he needed it. He figured Jordan and Vanessa would be okay by themselves for half an hour. And Will promised he wouldn't tell Mom...unless Jay needed bail money, then he'd have to tell her.

"Halstead," a gruff voice barked from the side of him.

Jay looked up to be met with one of the detectives who had worked your case. But, instead of being in his uniform, he was in normal clothes. The only thing that could tell anyone that he was a cop was the badge pinned to his jeans and the gun in its holster at his side.

Jay stood up.

"I had a feeling something like this might happen," Hank Voight stated. "So, I put a patrol car in front of the Evans' house."

"Am I under arrest?" Jay asked.

"You're not. But follow me."

Hank opened the door to the office next to where the bench was and Jay followed him in.

"Have a seat." Jay sat down in the chair in front of the desk and Hank sat in the chair behind the desk. If Jay didn't know any better, he'd say he was in the principal's office. "Jay, listen."

"Wait, how do you know I'm not Will?" Jay asked.

"I know that Will had red hair. And, you told the responding officer your full name, remember?"

"Yes, sorry."

"It's okay. A little questioning never hurt anybody. But, Jay, listen. You can't go and beat this kid up or destroy or vandalize his property." Jay opened his mouth to protest, but Hank put a hand up to stop him. "I understand that you're angry and want to get revenge for your sister. But, that's not going to make it like it didn't happen. And, you'd be the one getting in trouble, not him. Severide already did a number on him."

"But, Y/N doesn't want a trial because she doesn't want to relive it!" Jay argued. "I just have to let him get away with it?"

"He's not going to get away with it, I can promise you that. I just don't want you to be the one getting in trouble for bringing a little justice to the world. I can promise you justice will be served, though."

"How? If there's no trial and I can't go after him, how will justice be served?"

"Jay, just let it run its course. Now, I'm assuming your mom doesn't know you're here?"

"No, she doesn't. I planned on going to a friend's house after."

"I'll drive you there. All this vandalism stuff will stay between me, you, and the patrolman."

Jay's jaw dropped. "Wow, thank you so much."

"Hey, I would've done the same thing if I was in your shoes. Now, c'mon, let's get you to that friend's house."

***

One month later

It was your mom's first day back to work. She said she would stay home longer if you wanted her to, but you told her you were fine. And, she thought that as well because you had been coming out of your room more these past two weeks.

You walked to the kitchen to go get some water which was normal for you. All you had been doing since you were almost raped was sleeping. You'd occasionally have dinner with your family, but that was it. You also started seeing a therapist a week after the attempted rape, which helped immensely. But, when she saw your symptoms, she had suggested anti-depressants after you had talked to her for a couple weeks. So, you were on them.

After a week, you started to gain some energy back. It wasn't back to normal yet, but it was enough that you would watch movies and tv shows, read, and journal in your room instead of lying in bed staring at the ceiling and sleeping all day.

You were on your way back to your room with your glass of water when you heard a familiar opening line to one of your favorite Disney Channel movies: Lemonade Mouth.

You poked your head into the living room. "Are you guys watching Lemonade Mouth?" you asked your brothers.

"We were gonna change it to watch some hockey," Jay said. Then, he saw Will's pointed look. "But, if you want to watch Lemonade Mouth, then we can."

Will paused the tv. "Are you sure?" you asked.

"We're sure," Will replied. "I'll go make us some popcorn while you get comfortable."

And thus started the plan of watching a movie every night to get you out of your room. Sometimes, Will would have too much homework, so you'd watch a movie with Jay. Sometimes Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with Will. Sometimes, Will would have a ton of homework and Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with your mom. Either way, it was nice to know that they were there for you and that you didn't have to talk about anything with them.

"Hey, like my new shirt?" Jay asked.

"When did you go shopping?" Will asked as he looked up from his textbook.

"Practice got canceled because Coach is sick and Hailey wanted to get some food and go to Goodwill, so we got food and went to Goodwill."

"Jesus, man, you are so whipped. Didn't you just become boyfriend and girlfriend last week?"

"Yes. Y/N you-- what's wrong?"

Your breath was caught in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. If you could see yourself right now, you knew you'd look like a ghost.

"Nothing. I- I just need to get some water and then I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Okay," Will started, "you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, but you also grabbed your bottle of antidepressants and put them in the pocket of your sweatshirt. Then, you made your way to your bedroom and locked the door.

How the hell did Jay manage to find the exact same shirt at a thrift store? It was a navy blue shirt with the Abercrombie and Fitch logo on it...the same exact shirt Derek was wearing on the night of the party.

It all came flooding back to you. You screaming...him slapping you...you crying...

You couldn't breathe.

"Ahhh!" you sobbed and dropped to your knees and curled up into a ball, taking the pills out of your pocket.

You continued sobbing and then you heard a knock on your door and heard the doorknob rattle.

"Y/N, Y/N, I need you to open this door," Will told you.

"No! Leave me alone!" you yelled.

"Can't do that. Mom left us in charge since she went back to work. If you don't open this door in three seconds, we're coming in somehow."

He got to two and you relented and opened the door.

"Y/N...what--"

You thrust the bottle of pills in his hand. "Take them! Take them, please!"

"Were you...?"

"I don't know! I don't know, Will! Just get them away from me!"

He pocketed them. "Okay, what's going on? What happened?"

Jay came around the corner.

"It's the same- the same--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath for me and then we can talk about this."

After five minutes of Will calming you down, you were finally able to catch your breath enough to talk.

"Jay's got the same shirt!" you wailed.

"The same shirt as who?" Will asked gently, careful not to touch you for fear that it would send you into another anxiety attack.

"Derek!"

Will turned around. "Jay, go rip that fucking shirt off and fucking burn it!" Jay just stood there, shellshocked. "Jay!"

He turned around and went to his room to take it off and get rid of it.

"Now, can I give you a hug?" Will asked. You nodded and allowed him to embrace you. When he pulled away, he asked, "Were you really going to do that? With the pills?"

"I- I don't think so," you told him. "I just saw them when I was getting water and grabbed them. I don't want to die."

"That's good. That's really good. But, you know we have to talk to Mom about this, right?"

"Yeah. And, I know I'm supposed to go back to school next week, but I- I don't think I can handle it, Will."

"Then we'll talk to her about that, too."

Jay ran out of his room--in a different shirt--holding his phone in his hand and looking frantic. "We have to go now!" he yelled.

"Why?" Will asked. "Where?"

"Mom just called and said she had to check out Hailey in the hospital."

***

"Hailey!" Jay yelled as he entered her room. He saw her bruised face and her arm in a sling. "Baby, what happened?"

"He- he--" And then she erupted into sobs and reached her good arm over to Jay.

You noticed that one of the officers who worked your case was also in the room.

"Hailey, honey, do you want to press charges?" Trudy Platt asked.

"I can't!" she wailed as she lifted her head off of Jay's chest. "I know I called you, but he's my dad!"

Jay let go of her. "Your dad did this? That son of a--"

"Jay!" your mom yelled.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Hailey reached for her water, but you noticed it was slightly out of her reach so you handed it to her. You hated seeing the girl who you considered your best friend in this much pain, at the hands of her father of all people.

Since you were only in school for less than a month before everything happened and didn't have time to form real, long-lasting friendships you didn't really have any close friends besides Hailey. And now, you knew how she felt when she saw you in that hospital bed six weeks ago.

"Hailey, I can't let you go back to that house," Trudy said.

"But I don't want to press charges! Can't you just pretend you didn't see that? That I didn't call you?" Hailey argued.

"Honey, since you're a minor, I'm supposed to press charges no matter what."

"But he's my dad!" she cried. "I know he's horrible, but I don't want him to rot in prison."

"Hailey, listen to me," Trudy began. "I am giving you an out here. I won't press charges, but for me not to press charges, I need you to be in a safe home."

"You're saying I need to find to find someplace else to live?" she asked.

Trudy nodded.

"Mom, can she...?" Jay asked as he looked up at his mom.

In that moment, your mom saw in Hailey what she had seen in you six weeks ago: a scared little girl who needed the comfort and love of a parent. And, your mom knew she wasn't her actual parent, but she had been over so much recently that it was hard for her to see Hailey as just one of Will's classmates...especially now since she was your best friend and Jay's girlfriend.

"She can stay. As long as she doesn't mind sharing a room with Y/N," your mom agreed.

And, it was that day that Hailey Upton decided that she wanted to become a cop.

***

Hank Voight pulled over Derek on his way home from school.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Derek asked as he rolled down his window.

"First of all, it's detective. And second of all, there is a problem. The problem is that you almost raped a girl," he stated.

"And she didn't file charges, so until she does, I didn't do that."

Hank reached over and grabbed Derek Evans by the collar. "Listen here. In two weeks, you are going to write a letter to your parents saying that you're running away because of all the ridicule you've faced because of this. And then, you're going to meet me at this address." He thrust a piece of paper into his hand. "Oh, and if you think I'm not serious, let me know if your principal shows up to school tomorrow because I can promise you he won't be there. He'll be in prison...or dead. I'll let you think over which one it is." He let go of his collar. "If I were you, I'd show up or it will be a whole lot worse for you."

Derek swallowed. "Okay."

***

Two weeks later

Hailey was settling in at your house, but you still weren't ready to go back to school.

"Y/N," your mom called from the kitchen. You walked out there. "I talked to one of your counselors. They said that they think online school would be helpful. Is that something you might be interested in?"

You never thought your mom would cave to this, but you were on cloud nine. "Yes, please."

"Okay, but can you try to go back at the beginning of next year?"

"I don't know, Mom."

"That's okay. I shouldn't have asked you that. You'll know when you're ready." She paused. "But, one of the things I'm worried about is you not getting any social interaction."

Will walked out of his room. "What if I do it with her?" he asked. "I could go to school for my AP classes and then take the other ones online. The AP ones are really the only ones that matter."

"Will, it's your senior year," your mom argued.

"I know. I can still do all the fun senior stuff, but I wouldn't have to be at school all day."

"Can I do it, too?" Jay asked. "And, I can still go to school for math and English because we know how I am in those subjects. I can even ask Hailey and text some friends if they want to do online school, too," he suggested.

Tears formed in your eyes. Your brothers were giving up their high school experiences for you.

"Boys, I don't know--"

"Mom, you said the issue was social interaction," Will began, "if we're there and other people are there, she wouldn't be missing out on social interaction."

Your mom sighed. "Are you two sure about this? This isn't a decision you can take lightly." They both said they were sure. "Okay, I'll call the school."

"I'll ask Hailey and make some phone calls," Jay said.

And so, three days later, you, your brothers, Hailey, Kim, Adam, Kevin, Natalie, Stella, and Kelly were all sitting in a coffee shop working on online school.

***

Derek Evans walked a block before he got in Hank Voight's car.

"You have everything?" Hank asked, referring to Derek's backpack filled with clothes, toiletries, and other necessities.

"Yes, sir," Derek answered. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," was all Hank said and then he started driving.

They pulled up to a dirt area on the water with four huge silos. "What are we doing here?" Derek asked.

"Get out of the car."

Derek listened and then Hank followed him around the car. He pulled his gun out of his holster and pressed the cool, black metal against Derek's temple. Derek froze.

"Walk," Hank commanded.

Derek listened and he walked with Hank still holding a gun to his head.

Hank told him to stop and then he drew a line in the dirt with his foot.

"You see this line?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Derek answered while visibly shaking.

"If you ever cross this line again, there will be a bullet in your head. Walk and don't come back." Hank lowered his gun and Derek started walking, not looking back, doing exactly as Hank had told him to do. "Nobody fucks with my city, Evans," Hank said to his retreating back. "Nobody. Not even you."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this rewrite! Thank you for reading! Please remember to reblog/like and comment because I always love when those notifications pop up and I love reading your comments!And, if you like my writing, you can support me at buy me coffee here. It's only a dollar and it's through Paypal and any currency can be used, no subscription required! (I write these fics for free, so I figured I'd try this out!) As always, if you want ti be added to my taglist, just comment that and I’ll add you

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[multific]

Plan a Wedding

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: When you are asked by your best friend to help her plan her wedding, you don't know what to do, you want to help her, but have the biggest crush on the groom's best man, who also helps with the planning.

When your best friend, Kate, asked you to not only be her maid of honor but help her with the planning of her wedding, you of course said yes, without even thinking twice.

It took you about four hours before you realized what that truly meant.

It meant that you will spend a lot more time with Chris. The man you had the biggest crush on since he was introduced to you and the best part, Kate knew exactly how you felt.

So, now here you were in a florist shop, pretending that you were not blushing furiously as you tried to hide behind every bouquet. 

You took a deep breath and focused on Kate instead. She was looking at at least five different bouquets and table decorations when you stepped in to help her.

"Which are the ones you do not like?" you asked.

"Hmm...The yellow ones wouldn't fit with the theme. But I don't want there to be too much white, so they might work."

"Alright, Then how about the pink ones? You want pastel colors, those are too dark. Let's get those off the table then." The florist helped you and now there were only two bouquets and two smaller decorations to chose from. 

"Which ones do you like more?" she asked turning to you.

"It's not my wedding, but the place you rented for the wedding has a dark wood interior. I think the green would make it too cold. But if you use the yellow with the light pink, it could bring that spring feeling you want."

She nodded. You didn't even notice Chris and the groom, Sebastian, arriving at your side.

"I like the one Y/N said." Seb helped and Kate finally picked one. They gave the order to the shop assistant and then you moved on.

The next stop was the bakery. 

Honestly, you weren't sure which couple asked other people regarding their cake, but you didn't mind it, you liked cakes.

And as the slices kept on coming, your eyes kept on shining. You only got out of the trance when Chris laughed a little.

"You really do like cake," he noted when Seb and Kate were too busy.

"I do, yes," you never really talked with him, you were afraid he might think you don't like him or something, but it was the exact opposite.

"Thank you for helping her pick flowers. I thought we will die in that store she kept on looking and going back and forth."

"She has a hard time saying out loud that she doesn't like something. She thinks it rude, but you will see, I bet she will have a harder time here."

You gave Chris a look and he smiled, both of you turned back to see Seb eating cake and Kate thinking rather hard.

"How many layers will it be?" you asked and tried to help.

"Three," Seb answered.

"Alright. I would say the biggest layer should be something like vanilla and chocolate. It's a safe choice and everyone likes it. Then you can have something fancy which tastes nice like the dark forest one. Then you can have something like red velvet or chocolate only," both of them nodded, understanding your point.

"I quite liked the pistachio one." Chris said, "It's light and nice, I think everyone will enjoy it. I agree with the bottom two layers, those are very popular flavors." 

"Then we will have vanilla and chocolate then black forest and finally, pistachio." Both bride and groom agreed and you were out of the shop quicker than you thought. Now the four of you are headed to have some lunch. 

You and Chris sat at a table as Seb and Kate went to use the toilets.

"What are you planning for her bachelorette party?" Chris suddenly asked.

"Oh, yes, so the idea was that we go to a bar, play some small games. I wanted to get a dancer for her, but nothing too wild or anything." 

"Good, I was planning a striptease bar but then I remembered his brother would freak out so most likely we will go to a bar or have some drinks at my place."

"Sounds good to me," you smiled at him and the pair arrived back. You all ate some pizza before heading to the next place.

Your day went on like that. Going from one place to another. You ended up offering to make the invitations yourself since the place wanted to charge a lot more for them than they should have. Chris offered to help

***

Kate sent you a template of what she would like for her invites to look like. You bought everything you will ever need and more.

You made the text itself digitally then printed it out. Now, they needed to be put together, so Chris was coming over to yours to help. 

Just as you finished preparing everything, your doorbell rang.

"Sorry, I'm late, traffic, but I brought the things you asked, I have an amazing scissor that cuts paper like a dream," he said as soon as you opened the door.

"Hi. It's okay, you are just in time,"

You let him in and the tedious procedure of preparing hundred and fifty invitations began. 

You were about halfway done when you felt your back start to hurt.

"I will make some lemonade for myself, would you like to have some?"

"Sounds good thank you, I started to feel like my eyes will melt." he laughed and moved to the kitchen with you. "So, you have a dancer for Kate, does she know?"

"Oh, no it will be a surprise all of the girls know about him, would you believe that her mother was the most excited?" you poured some ice into the cup and moved to the living room to sit on the couch. "Why are you asking?"

"Just interested, I didn't tell it to Seb or anything."

"Good, I'm so happy for them."

"Me too. But they are both can't decide on the simplest things."

"Really? Would you be better?"

"Oh, please I have my whole wedding planned in my head, flowers and all."

"Says the guy who is still single."

He laughed. "I even know who I want to marry."

This almost made you choke on your lemonade. You felt a bit jealous but didn’t ask any questions. 

"I always thought you didn't like me. I know I can be loud and annoying even, I laugh loudly which I know some women don't like. But when you accepted for me to help you today, I thought there is hope."

"I like you, Chris. A lot actually, and I like your laugh. It's loud but it gives me a smile."

You didn't notice how close he got to you only when he lifted your chin up. He waited for you to pull away but you didn't.

"All I could think about last week was you. I pretended it's our wedding you are picking flowers for and our cake you are tasting. Call me a creep, Y/N, but I am in love with you. I have been for a long time now."

"You are not a creep. And I think I am in love with you as we-" he didn't let you finish as his lips met yours in a soft kiss. 

You dreamed of this moment for so long and now that it was here, you felt like you could faint. You couldn't believe this is actually happening, but it was.

***

"So, you finished with the cards, can we send them out?"

"Ooh, we got halfway done with it yesterday. I promise for tomorrow I will have all." 

You and Kate agreed to have breakfast the next morning. She squinted her eyes and looked at you, then as if lightning struck her eyes opened wide.

"Oh My God, Y/N you and Chris had se-"

"Shhh!" you put your hand against her lips, stopping her. "Don't yell, please." "Finally! I was waiting for you to get together for two years now!"

"Yes, so it's not a thing."

"Great! So tell me everything! How it happened, when it happened, and where? Hope not on my invitations!" he lifted her cup to her lips and you just knew this will be a long day.

But you were happy, extremely happy now that you and Chris were together.

As you told Kate the story of last night, your phone notified you that Chris wrote you a text. 

You will never forget the smirk on Kate's face as she made more sexual jokes, she will never let you live this down. 

Part 2

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[kojinnie]

With The Exception of You

I dislike everyone in the room.

Pairing/Character: Reiner x Reader (she/her), Porco Galliard

Tags: SFW, fluff, college!au, Reiner Braun is a jock who is tired of his own friends, secret relationship

WC: 3.2K

Summary: Reiner had agreed to be in a discreet relationship with you, but after six months and with the arrival of Porco Galliard around you, he couldn’t help but to mark his territory.

Reiner couldn’t seem to fathom the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. It came out of nowhere, as it often happened to be. Once in a while, he could feel his guts twisting as his chest filled with overflown emotions at odd times. Reiner hated it when it happened, because as much as he wanted to convince himself that he wasn’t self-aware of his image, those feelings could potentially strip himself off of his cool guy status.

Reiner had come to realize that such strange feeling often occurred caused by the sight of you.

It could be anything. Things so mundane, so simple. Like the way you twisted the pen in your fingers, the way you squinted your eyes at the blackboard during a lecture, and how you hastily scribbled things on your leather-bound notebook.

Or maybe it’s the way you sighed deliberately loud when someone uttered a dumb, sexist remark in class with no trace of shame, after they tried to debate your sound, well-researched opinion, and how you’d resolved it with a sarcasm that could disintegrate a man’s ego. Reiner sat on the corner of the classroom, disguising his chuckle by clearing his throat, finally coming to experience what they had called butterflies-in-your-stomach all along. 

At that point he had found himself painfully and helplessly in love with you.

He was well-aware of how different the two of you were. Reiner was the athlete, admitted to the uni through football scholarship, and you were the hard-working academician that mostly kept to yourself – hard to approach, hard to tame. Reiner hated how stereotypical he was – tall, buff, blonde, jock, with cheerleader exes and a DM full of thirst trap from his assembly of admirers. Reiner once wished he was anything but a cookie-cutter of everything you had been appalled of.

Reiner could feel every ounce of confidence he had ever had shriveled around your presence. It’s the way the two of you almost collided to each other at the campus hallway, and the way you threw an acknowledging, formal smile at him before striding away that made his heart ached. He wished you’d run to him and shriek his name with affection, but Reiner realized you were not one of his cheerleader exes, and not that he wanted you to be one. You were an anomaly he had yet to understand. A misplaced figure sticking out of his history of penchant for conformity.

“I really like you.” one day he finally said. Never had he been weak on the knees for a confession to any girl before, but this one occurrence? He did.

He didn’t know how he mustered the courage, but after hours, days and weeks he had spent trying to know you – learning your favorite song, accompanying you for book hunting, baking your favorite muffins, texting you good morning and good night – he finally got you alone, in the campus library, only five minutes before closing time.

You laughed at first, because the confession sounded ridiculous to you. The last thing you needed was a horde of girls sending you anonymous hate comments on Insta because you took the campus’ most eligible hunk off of the market. But he didn’t laugh along, and that was when realization hit you.

“So, is that why you’ve been following me around?”

Reiner furrowed his thin, almost non-existent brow, “What do you think?”

“I thought you were just bored with your jock friends,” you scoffed, “because you know, I’d be bored out of my ears too if all I ever heard all day is insecure men constantly praising themselves.” you glanced at Reiner, trying to discover even the slightest amusement on his hardened face to no avail.

“Reiner, are you serious?”

He sighed, couldn’t believe his ears. The first time ever Reiner caught you being stupid beyond recognition, “For the millionth times, yes.”

“You’ve only said it once, though.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the jock grunted, but there was a slight smile arose from his face, “I like you, really much. Times eight hundred ninety-eight thousand.”

“And?”

“So would you be my girlfriend?”

And you said yes, after three minutes of hesitation, you said yes. With a laughter. Because the absurdity of you being with someone like Reiner was lurid. Yet still, you were in no capacity to lie when his good morning text had been the most unsubstantiated text you looked forward to every day.

You wondered why? It’s just text. But maybe, you tried to convince yourself, it’s because of the effort he put, of trying to wake earlier before you every morning although he was hardly a morning person. Or it’s the way he listened to your kind of music although he was practically tone deaf, and returned to you the next week with his analysis on why your favorite band’s first album was their masterpiece and that sadly they never outdid it with any of their following albums.

And maybe, it’s the sight of the topless Reiner in the football field, after a home match. The way he was quick to run to the side of the field with his Captain instinct, lurching himself towards the start of a brawl between the two teams’ players, heated by animosity over the match result. Reiner was strong enough to break at least ten muscular jocks apart from throwing punches at each other, and with his deep, stern, authoritative voice, he commanded them to “Stop it. Fuck off.” You remembered immediately leaving the bleachers and found the nearest toilet because you needed to breathe and that you felt things simmering in your nether area. You never felt like that before to any of your exes.

Reiner knew the mutual pining between the two of you was evident, and so he was left puzzled when you said, “But please don’t tell anyone yet.” He asked why, but you only shrugged your shoulder with an answer that gave very little explanation, “I just don’t feel like having people talk about us.”

Reiner trusted you, because at first, he thought it was for modesty, you were not a fan of the limelight, evidently. Or it’s for practical reason, you don’t want to be burdened by society’s expectation on how two adults in relationship should be. Reiner could make 1,000 excuses for you that would justify your terms and conditions, so he went with what you wanted, because he was so hopelessly into you.

Nonetheless, still he enjoyed holding your hand in the dark alley of the campus – away from all the prying eyes, or the girls that’d giggle walking past the beautiful giant. Still he liked to have you sleeping naked in his embrace, making lazy circles with his calloused digits on your small back, at the emptiness of his dorm room when his roommate was home early for Christmas. Still he enjoyed teasing you at unassuming place, at the quiet library, studying together in silence for the upcoming exams, he’d be sitting next to you, leaning to his chair and slithered his right hand underneath your sweatshirt, to playfully and quickly unclasped your bra, only for you to smack his stomach in annoyance. He liked you, and he liked how you scurried to the restroom to fix your bra. He liked to be with you, no matter in silence or in noise.

However, after six months, questions started to throb incessantly inside Reiner’s mind. Even after all the time you had spent together, why must still he go alone to the football team soiree? Why would you let his team mate thought that Reiner was single, and promised him chances with girls, left and right? Why were you unfazed to see the girls sliding into his DMs? And when you put on that tight, backless black dress on New Year’s Eve, why would you put it for your friends’ party, and not for his eyes only? Why would you color your lips with the blood red Chanel lipstick Reiner gave you, and smile at other people that’s not him?

Reiner could not make sense of you. He pondered, he wondered and he became jealous. He’d look at you intently and see whether there was any trace of other man on you that he had not recognized? He’d become quiet and his friends thought he had gotten sensitive over nothing. The captain had become agitated, irritable and his head was hardly in the game – all with seemingly no reason.

Reiner began to think that he knew the reason why. He thought it’s the boy you’d met at the Academic Writing class, with stupid name and equally stupid undercut. Porco Galliard, you said his name was. In an instance his name had become a staple in your conversation. When Reiner asked you out for a dinner, it’d be like, “Ah sorry babe, I got this assignment with Porco.” A trip to the zoo? “You know, Porco have this funny experience with apes.” A night out in his dorm? By the point Reiner had a half-boner forming already seeing you in your lounge shorts, you’d be giggling and stayed busy with your phone. Reiner asked, “What’s so funny, babe?”

“What’s so funny, babe?” he asked again, because you didn’t seem to hear the first time he asked you. Distracted, you showed a stupid meme on your phone, “Porco sent me this.”

Porco here, Porco there. Reiner was sick of hearing that dumb name.

He had tried to look up for his background, and he hated to find that all that ever came up about him were amicable. His friends knew him, said he was chill, said he was smart as fuck, said he had a cool family, said he turned down a track and field scholarship for law school. Porco Galliard is a cool dude, they all said.

At certain point Reiner had grown to be furious, and the more your text messages became sparse or the more you spent your Saturday nights without him, the more he set his mind to do something about the two of you. He had become so sick of hiding and he wanted the whole world to know that you were his. Especially that guy with a name that sounded like her mother hated giving birth to him.

So came that day. You hadn’t been replying to his texts since morning, and only did so after chains of messages he left.

[you | 11.35] oh my god reiner!!! I’M SO SORRY, i left my phone uncharged all morning. i’m heading to cafeteria rn, it’s muffin tuesday 😵👅

[reiner | 06.37] good morning baby

[reiner | 07.49] you awake now?

[reiner | 08.15] sleepyhead 😪💤 see you today pretty

[reiner | 10.23] i got practice today until late. see you tonight? my room?

[reiner | 10.55] are you in class rn?

[reiner | 11.36] wanna go together?

[you | 11.45] haha noo a lot of people there

[reiner | 11.45] who r u going with?

[you | 11.55] with pockooo haha we got class together after lunch

Pocko. Is that an endearing term you came up with for the jizzhead? Reiner thought, pissed off beyond compare. He paced restlessly in his room, trying to figure out what did Porco have that he didn’t have? Thinking of how his undercut made his head looked way bigger for his neck, just like sperm; and it made Reiner mad angry. “Fuck you, Jizzhead”, he hissed, kicking the pile of dirty laundry on his dorm room.

The cafeteria was bustling busy when you arrived with Porco. The two of you immediately joined the line for lunch and the muffin. The man was busy babbling about yet another stupid thing that he had done back in high school, but your mind was darted on the muffins that were sold off fast. You looked around and almost everyone you disliked were present – mostly Reiner’s jock friends and their girlfriends. The prospect of one day going public with Reiner and having to spare days in your life to socialize with these loud people made you squirm. Not that you were completely against it, you were just… enormously reluctant to do so. Also, what would they say about you? You barely existed for them, evident by how they just greeted Porco with huge affection, yet pretended like you were invisible despite the fact that you were talking and standing close to him.

Your mind was elsewhere, between eyeing the muffin and managing your detest towards the it crowd, you weren’t even listening to the small talk that Porco was having with some of the jocks, until the mention of your name spilled out of Porco’s mouth, “Hey, have you guys known ___ before?”

You blinked with surprise, and they looked at you unenthusiastically, “Ummm, no?” one of them said.

Porco stared at them in disbelief, as if not knowing you was a big sin, “Get to know then! She’s cool, she’s really into—” but even before Porco could finish his words, they averted their attention elsewhere, pulling out their phone like it was the most important thing in the world, and talked amongst themselves. How fitting, because the first thing they talked about as an excuse for ignoring you was to talk about Reiner, “The captain’s been grumpy. Haha. That man. What’s up with him?” You cringed, because you knew there was no weight in talking about Reiner that must be done at that time, that moment. They just wanted a reason not to be roped into talking to you, obviously because you didn’t think you were cool enough or some other shit excuse only them and their bobbleheads understand. So, conveniently throwing out Reiner’s name was an effective way to basically say ‘haha look at us talking about the coolest guy in the campus so you know we’re in this cool clique unlike you’. You read them too well. You couldn’t even be amused anymore.

Porco looked embarrassed, he smiled at you awkwardly and stayed silent, until one of the girls threw their attention back to the man dirty blond undercut, “Anyway, Porco, do you know Reiner?”

“Ah, I haven’t had the chance to.”

The girl frowned rather dramatically, “Oh my god, we all should totally hang out together with Reiner, right? He’s like—super cool.” her question was obviously in exclusion of you. You rolled your eyes and turned away to see new text from Reiner appearing.

[reiner | 12.15] im going there

[you | 12.16] convenient. right in time. your cool friends are all here and you can sit with them and be cool with them or whatever I guess haha

You immediately pulled your phone to your chest; you could feel your heart thumping. Is this it? Is this it? The question became menacing in your head, because you were not sure on what Reiner was planning to do. The line to the muffin was still far away, and it would be stupid to run away.

[reiner | 12.17] idgaf about em

[reiner | 12.19] i want u

You could hear the girls were still talking about Reiner. Reiner this, Reiner that. You were nowhere to lie that you could feel your chest heat up with annoyance. The way their squeaking voice praised Reiner’s body, Reiner’s personality, Reiner’s wit. For the first time, you knew you were experiencing jealousy, vibrant and up-close.

“You know what? One time, Reiner thought that the way I did my hair was so cute that he wanted—”

Just in time, one of the boys raised his voice, “Oi Reiner!” and in unison the jocks erupted, welcoming his arrival like they were in some goddamn party.

You could see Reiner walking towards the line you were in, his face was hardened and his walk was swift. You immediately turned away to look at the opposite direction, not wanting to see him.

“Yooo Reiner! Where have you been? We’ve missed you dude,” one of them said. You cringed at how they all tried so hard to sound cool, “have you met Porco, by the way? And his friend—”

“—hey, what’s her name again?” one of the girls chimed in, asking Porco instead of asking you directly, as if you were not there. At that point, Reiner was standing not too far behind you, and you pretended like you were too busy with your phone, hoping the floor would engulf you instead.

“Is she like, deaf or something?” the girl whispered to Porco with a jeer, before getting back to Reiner, “So, Rei, I’ve got this party—”

“—yo Capt, do you know that—”

“—have you heard about the news, dude? Like—”

The way all these people tried to suck up to Reiner was so pathetic and incessant, they all chirped like hungry birds all in a matter of couple of seconds. You hated them and you hated the situation.

“—come on, Capt, that would be awesome—”

“—oh my gosh, Rei—”

“—you must try it, Rei—"

“Shut the fuck up,” Reiner said. Rather abruptly. His voice was cold and deep, like he couldn’t give a damn in this world about any of them. Surprised, they all dropped quiet in an instance. You looked over your back at him. Reiner was staring at you, and at you alone, not even at the Jizzhead he had grown to hate so much, “you all talk too fucking much.”

You snorted, suppressing a laughter to escape from your mouth. Clearly, it was too audible, that the girls were now looking at you with complete disdain.

“Babe,” Reiner said, staring at you, while you were still facing the opposite direction, “babe, what are you doing with this Jizzhead here? I can bake you muffins remember? If you want it so much.”

Your surrounding fell deep in silence. Everyone was either confused or surprised. Murmur started to sweep over the crowd, most audible was: ‘Who is Jizzhead?’

You scoffed, finally turning your back, although still closing your mouth trying to prevent the laughter and the embarrassment to display itself.

“What the hell?” one of the girls asked in dismay, obviously she was one of the girls sliding into Reiner’s DM and sending him bikini photos by the pretense of ‘Rei, you should join us for summer holiday!’ when all she wanted to do was to show her tits.

“Shut up,” Reiner said to her, baffling the girl to complete silence, “and stop sending me your beach photos. They’re ugly.”

An uproar of restraint laughter was heard throughout the cafeteria.

“Babe,” Reiner said again, this time extending his arms toward you, gesturing for you to come closer, “now you know why I need you, right? My friends are fucking whack.”

Few laughter was starting to break. Yet Reiner was unfazed.

“Reiner, what—”

“—yo dude, what the hell?

“—who is she?”

“—are they dating?”

“And listen here, you hag,” Reiner now turned his attention to the girl who called you deaf, “she’s got a name. Her name is ___, and she’s my fucking girlfriend.”

Embarrassed yet amused, you finally let out a small chuckle, “Reiner, please you’re humiliating me.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged off. Reiner now turned his attention to Porco, “and listen here you, Jizzhead. You can be nice to her but keep in your fucking mind, she’s mine.”

Without hesitation, Reiner pulled your hand and yanked you closer to him. You stared at him for a second, eyes broadened and heart thumping, “Reiner, what are you gonna do—”

“—shut up.” he said, cupping your face with his gigantic hands, and pulled your face roughly to him, before landing his dry, chapped lips to yours. He had gone sick of pretending, and doing things in secret. So there Reiner Braun was, hungrily, longingly, sloppily devouring your lips with his mouth, so deep, so thirsty of your taste. He finally showed the world who the true owner of his heart was. You.