#also anyone else sick with nerves about making a present someone will like?

[sevensided]

Checking in!

Hi everyone! I hope you’re having a fun time creating a present for your partner! This is just a reminder that in less than a week the Hawkins Holiday Hiatus will draw to a close. On February 28th you must post your present so your partner can receive it! Don’t forget to ping (@) your partner, and tag it as #hawkinsholidayhiatus so it can turn up in the tags.

Aside from that, how are we going? If you need any help whatsoever - maybe you’re stuck on an idea, or you’re not sure how to contact your partner - please don’t even hesitate to let me know. Good luck! I can’t wait to see what you create!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Trending

Summary: Steve thinks you’re too young to like him despite the obvious hints you’re dropping.

Warnings: unspecified age gap

Word count: 2246

a/n: I’ve clearly spent too much time on TikTok recently, but inspired me to write something so that's good. It was loosely based on a request for a young reader x Steve, but I forgot part of the request so I'm gonna write something else for that one! Also, I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any typos I missed when trying to edit it lol

Masterlist

Messing with Steve is one of your favorite things to do. Tiny pranks, over the top flirting, poking fun at his lack of understanding of technology. Anything you can do to get him to roll his eyes and chuckle.

Nat would say it’s because of your feelings for him. She would be correct. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. So instead, you have your fun, and enjoy the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks redden.

Your newest method of hearing the sweet sound of Steve’s laugh? TikTok. It’s a double whammy. One because he doesn’t understand the app and two because a lot of the trends make him blush.

It started as a fun way to blow off steam. Sometimes, being one of the younger and newer team members made you feel like an outsider. Of course, Peter was younger than you, but he had his own friends outside of the team. You didn’t have anyone else. When Tony found you and invited you to join, it was you against the world. Now you have this makeshift family.

Having your account on TikTok helped you when you hadn’t really become a part of the group yet. You bonded with Peter because of his account, and you found a new way to make Steve blush.

Anyway, you’ve learned way more TikTok dances than you ever would have thought just to see his pink cheeks. It’s not even always over the top dances that have him chuckling. The last trend you did had him laughing the entire day. It was that sound about Wednesday Adams having one thing on her mind. Only when it said homicide, instead of a deadpan expression you panned the camera to show Bucky and Sam arguing over who got the last donut.

Of course, you knew when you made the video it would appeal to Steve’s sense of humor. Sam and Bucky feature in a lot of your videos for that exact reason.

In general, you make a lot of videos featuring the Avengers just to keep Tony happy. He likes to be the center of attention, plus the only way he would approve of your account was if it could also feature as PR for the team. You agreed, as long as you had final say over what you posted. There’s nothing scripted or designed for a specific reason, you just feature the team sometimes.

Like when that sound from the Big Bang theory was popular amongst Avengers fans, you made a video confessing to Pepper that you’d been thinking about the Avengers, panning to show the team during training.

Of course, the text on the screen said “you are an Avenger” instead of “I believe that”, allowing you to play off the joke. But still, it was fun to include the team.

One of your favorite videos features none other than Scott Lang, mostly because nobody else would do it. Scott thought it was hilarious though.

Using the sound from New Girl, Scott played Schmidt and you Jess. The text on the screen read as follows:

Scott: You just walk around all day thinking about America’s Ass?

You: Yeah, don’t you?

Scott: No! How do you get anything done?

You: It’s hard…

Steve blushed like crazy when everyone cornered him to watch it. Bucky, Sam, and Tony wouldn’t stop bringing it up for at least a month. A part of you hoped he might make a move after that video, seeing as you put yourself out there, but he just assumed it was a joke and laughed it off.

Honestly, you were running out of trends that you could use to get him to understand your feelings. You only had two ideas left, and one of them would be mortifying if it didn’t work out…

-

“Steve. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky sighed, exasperated with Steve for the umpteenth time that month. “You’ve been pining for forever, just make a move!” he whisper yelled, doing his best not to throttle his lifelong friend.

Steve rolled his eyes, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s pointed glare. The two men had spent the last hour looking through your TikTok account. Bucky was adamant that you liked Steve, but the blonde didn’t believe it, despite the so called proof Bucky kept forcing him to watch.

“Buck, would you please just back off? We’re friends. She’s too young to want to be with me like that.” Steve blushed, thinking about the context of his words.

Before Bucky could say anything about how repressing his feelings is bad for him, a new video popped up on your account. Bucky smirked when he saw the thumbnail was once again a picture of Steve, this time with a beard. Steve took the silence as an opportunity to escape, walking into his closet to change.

The video opened with a video of you and Natasha just hanging out, you lip syncing to the words “I like you have a cupcake.” You repeated the words as the video cut to you and Tony.

Bucky nearly dropped the phone when “smack my ass like a drum” blared from the speaker. He cackled bending over in a fit of laughter when he realized that’s what Steve’s picture was used for- and one where he had a beard to boot.

“What is it now, jerk?” Steve emerged from his closet, having changed into loungewear. The sight of Bucky fully cackling had him nervous.

Bucky tossed him the phone, doing his best to stop laughing long enough to tell him to watch the most recent video. With a hesitant sigh, Steve obliged.

Again, Bucky rolled his eyes at how obvious Steve’s feelings were. The second he saw you on the screen, he smiled. And not one of those half hearted polite smiles, a full on happy smile.

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his head when he got to the end of the video.

“‘She doesn’t want to be with me like that.’” Bucky mocked his friends earlier words, grabbing his phone back. “Punk, I don’t know how much more obvious she could be.”

With one more glare in Steve’s direction, Bucky finally left him to his own thoughts. Okay, so you made a lot of videos about how you find him attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to be in a relationship with him. Leave it to Steve to talk himself out of everything Bucky had spent so long trying to convince him of.

-

You were desperate at this point. You honestly thought the cupcake one would send him over the edge, but it didn’t work either. It has been three days, and you know Steve’s seen the video because everyone likes to tease him about it.

“Naaaaaat, it’s not working,” you whined, dramatically throwing yourself onto her bed. She laughed at your antics, briefly looking up at you before deciding to stop what she was going and give you her full attention.

“Look, not only is Steve one of the most clueless people I’ve ever met when it comes to women, but he can also talk himself out of believing someone’s interested in him. Especially you.” Nat watched as you lifted your head from her comforter, slowly turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes.

“Especially me?” you questioned. Why would you have a different standard?

“Y/N, Steve’s from the 40s. He’s super old fashioned. You're a hot young thing, super up to date on modern trends. He thinks you're just messing around as friends because he doesn’t believe someone as young as you would be interested in actually having a relationship with him,” she spelt it out for you, sick of trying to get you to figure it out on your own.

You took a minute to fully understand what she was saying, but then sat up when a new idea struck. “So you’re saying I need to be more direct?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve got an idea. Thanks Nat!” you ran from the room before she could question your newest plan, instead checking to make sure her notifications were on for posts from your TikTok account.

-

“Steve!” you shouted when you saw him down the hall, about to turn a corner. He immediately stopped, turning back to see you running at him. “I need your help!”

You pulled him into the gym, briefly glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. Confirming nobody else was present, you set up your phone on one of the weight racks to record the two of you. It was already open to the recording section of TikTok, the sound you needed queued and ready to begin.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked between you and the phone, nerves heightening as he realized what you were doing. All of your videos about him thus far hasn’t actually involved him filming anything.

“I just need you to react to this trend, okay? It’s kind of old, but that doesn’t really matter,” you spoke quickly, trying to start the video before he could decline.

The music started playing instantly, with Steve awkwardly looking between the screen and you. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was reacting to, and it had him on edge. Just as the song reached the chorus, you turned and grabbed his face. Throwing caution to the wind, you followed through with your plan before you could back out, kissing him with all the passion and emotion you’d been holding back.

Steve froze, clearly surprised by your actions. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. He kissed you with equal passion and emotion, no longer paying attention to your phone recording the moment.

Neither of you noticed when the music cut off, too wrapped up in each other. When the need for air overpowered the desire to keep kissing him, you pulled back to gasp in a few breaths. Steve leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and breathing erratic.

The two do you spent the next few moments just breathing, trying to come to terms with what just happened. You gasped when his hands moved, one resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. His eyes were still closed when you chanced a glance at him.

“What was the trend?” he breathily whispered the words, still coming down from the high of kissing you.

“Huh?” you mumbled, unable to comprehend the question when he was still touching you like this.

“The TikTok trend? What was it?” his grip on your hip tightened, but his hand framing your face remained gentle.

“Oh, uh, it was- it was kissing your best friend/crush.” You whispered, heart still racing from his proximity. Your nerves had never been greater. Yeah, Nat always tells you that Steve has feelings for you, but what if he was just being polite? Maybe he didn’t know how to reject you when you kissed him out of nowhere, and now he’s trying to find a way to turn you down gently. What if-

“Was my reaction good enough to post?” he broke your train of thought with another question. You took a minute to think about the question, your brain still moving like molasses

“Um, that depends…” you froze when his eyes opened and stared into yours.

“On?” he prompted you to continue.

“Which caption I can use.” you finished the thought, finally remembering the two most common outcomes of the trend.

“What are the choices?” Steve smirked when you looked flustered, clearly not expecting this conversation.

“Uh, the two-” he began rubbing small circles into your hip with his thumb, effectively cutting off your train of thought again. It wasn’t until he lightly squeezed your hip again that you remember you were answering his question.

“Right! The two most common captions are some variation of ‘this was so awkward’ or ‘we’re dating now’,” you managed to blurt out the choices, blushing when he smiled at you.

“Well, I know which I prefer…” you waited with bated breath as he prolonged the silence, enjoying seeing you so on edge. You nearly whined when he let you go, moving to pick up your phone from the weight rack.

You watched in silence as he typed out a caption, tapping each letter with his pointer finger. A small smile formed on your lips at his adorable old man behavior. He then managed to find the post button, adding the video to your account before handing you the phone to see what he chose.

Your smile only grew after you read the caption, dropping the phone and immediately kissing him again.

-

Meanwhile, Nat had gathered the rest of the team that happened to be around to wait for whatever video you had planned to be posted.

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Clint all watched as the new video popped up on the screen. Peter bounced with excitement when he heard the song, instantly recognizing the trend. The rest of the group watched as you kissed Steve, mouths gaping open when he actually kissed you back.

Fans were already commenting about how long it took for the two of you to get together, but the team was too focused on laughing at the caption to pay any mind to the comments.

She said the trend was kind of old, but that fits because I’ve got a habit of waiting too long anyways.

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

[bakugosbratx]

NSFW 18+ The Assistant— AU Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Smut, degrading, cursing, punishment, dom levi, sub reader, bondage, bdsm, some angst, toxic relationship, spanking, cheating, etc.

Words: 3, 673

Check out my other works here

A/N: Me and my irl moot @idfkwtfgof came up with this idea so I decided to write it out. Enjoy this fifty shades of gray moment. I’ve been working on this for over a month 🙃 I’m sorry it took me forever.

Tags: @idfkwtfgof @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie

You take a deep breath as you approached the double doors in front of you. Your heart pounded against your rib cage. The silent hallways seemed to be echoing the thumps. Anyone in your position would be nervous too if they had to meet with the CEO of the Ackerman Industries. He was not one to enjoy much company nor request it. His gaze alone could intimidate the strongest of people and you are no different.

Fist resting on the wooden door in front of you, you hesitate, but close your eyes and knock anyway. You did not hear a response as you patiently wait. Instead, the door swings open to be met with the CEO himself, Levi Ackerman. Not a word was spoken, but he ushered you inside his huge office.

Scurrying, you slightly jump as you heard the huge door slam. You are in Levi’s office. Only businessmen and women are allowed in here. You feel not even worthy to be stepping on the same floor these successful people walk on. It could also be the fact that the office seemed spotless. For someone as busy as the CEO, he sure did know how to make a stack of papers seem neat in a stack.

“Sit.” Levi instructed as he strolled over to his desk chair and doing the said action. You looked around the room. Behind Levi is a wall of windows to overlook the city of New York. His desk his a beautiful dark brown that was so clean that you could see your reflection. Along with seeing your reflection, you can see —and feel— Levi starring at you. Meeting his silver orbs, you gulp.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Y/N?” Levi questioned, his tone remaining calm as always. Somehow, this intimidated you even more.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You admit. In all honesty, you are not sure why Levi called you into his office. He waited until almost everyone has gone home for the evening to set up this meeting. You have felt nauseous all day about it. Receiving an email from the CEO was enough to make anyone’s breath hitch, but to have a meeting — alone — with him is enough to make one soil themselves.

“I want to offer you a promotion,” Levi explained, his gaze hardening. “That is, if you want it?”

This is way better news than you expected. Levi has employees for a reason. He always calls the shots since it is his million dollar company, but why get his hands dirty when he can pay people to do it for him? Since no one is allowed in his office without special permission, this seemed a bit off.

“What does the job intel?”

“Well, my company is expanding even larger than anticipated this year. I need a personal assistant. Examining the work you have put in over the years, I decided you are cut out for the job. What do you say?”

You take a moment to contemplate his words. The offer is amazing and would definitely look great on your resume, but working so close to the CEO of the company is quite intimidating. Any bad habits you have developed better end swiftly or else it’s your job on the line. Levi is not afraid to terminate anyone not fit for the job.

“I’ll take it.” You smile, the words flowing out before you could even think any further.

“You start tomorrow. I expect you in my office 8am sharp. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Standing up, you straighten out your black pencil skirt and head your way towards the door. Levi’s eyes did not once leave your figure. The way you naturally sway your hips as you walk and the way the skirt hugged your hips just right. His eyes are enjoying the desires most men have yet when you turned to look over your shoulder, his eyes where focused on his paperwork.

You went home that night, excited to tell your significant other about your promotion. He did not even blink an eye in your direction. Instead, he is pissed that you are home later than normal.

“Babe—“

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed.

“I-I was called into the CEO’s office. I got a promotion!” You stammered, nervous under your boyfriend’s glare. He always made you feel small and his anger tends to send you over the edge. This is one of those many times.

“Why would he have you in there this late? Do you think I’m really that fucking stupid?” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Babe, I’m being serious. I would never lie to you.” You argued.

“And how do I know that?” He countered. “How am I certain that you aren’t cheating on me? Or even hurt? Are your damn thumbs broken, Y/N? Can’t keep me updated ‘bout what’s going on? I was worried sick about you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll do better.”

Your boyfriend walked over to you, embracing your body into a tight hug. You had so much more to say, but to prevent any further escalation of an argument, you apologized and kept your mouth shut.

The next morning arrived. You woke up extra early to have time to do your hair and makeup, dressed in your nicest attire, and wear the most expensive of jewelry. Since you are going to be around the CEO for now on, you cannot show up to work appearing sluggish. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

“Dressed quite nicely, huh?” He spoke, meeting your eyes through the mirror. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“I have to be.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his orbs tracing your figure. He hated when you showed confidence. It killed him inside and knowing that other men saw your beauty as well made his blood boil. He just has to ruin it.

“For the circus? Your makeup looks awful and your hair is tremendous.” He scoffed.

You bit your bottom lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you prevented them from falling. You refuse to let him ruin your confidence. You are a strong woman and his insecurities shouldn’t be placed upon you. It is not your baggage to carry.

You meet his eyes again through the mirror. You feel your confidence crumble beneath you, but you remain strong. Turning around, you brush past him as you stroll out of the bathroom. You ignored him calling your name and demanding you to return. All he could do is watch as you left without even saying goodbye.

You arrived to the business earlier than expected. You have checked your hair and makeup more than once in the car review mirror. You are not necessarily even wanting Levi’s approval, — though he is quite handsome — you just want to look presentable. He is your boss, after all. He is not afraid to fire anyone on the spot. You are no exception.

Inhaling a sharp breath, you knock on Levi’s office door. You hear his approval to come inside and welcome yourself inside. You were not even receive a glance as you closed the door behind you. Levi’s gray orbs never left his monitor screen. You gulp nervously as you proceed towards his desk.

“I stopped to get some coffee. I brought you a tea,” you lay his cup on his desk, “just how you like it.”

He nods, still typing away. This did not help your anxiety at all. Is he regretting his decision making you his assistant? Are you disturbing him? Is he contemplating firing you? Your stomach turned at the thought.

The sound of the printer disturbed your nuisance thoughts. Levi grabbed the piece of paper and placed it on top of a neat stack. He stands up, finally looking at you.

“I have a meeting to attend to in an hour. I need these documents assorted in alphabetical order before then.”

Your eyes fall to the tall stack of papers. You definitely need more than an hour to get through them all. By Levi’s facial expression, you knew he was serious. Levi always looked serious.

“Yes, sir,” you grab the stack and meet his a gaze again, “I’ll get it done swiftly.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. Sit over there.” He orders, glancing at the couches and coffee table in the middle of his office. Maybe it is just your nerves, but his workspace seems bigger than remembered. This did not help your anxiety.

You began getting to work. You thought you are doing well on time, but time seemed to have passed you by. Levi is now towering over you, his unsatisfied silver orbs glaring down at you. You hesitate, but force yourself to meet them.

“Thought you said you would have this done?” Levi recalls.

“I-I’m really sorry, s-sir.” You stammered, expecting the worse.

“Sorry doesn’t sort the papers, Y/N.” He scolds, his silver eyes only being shown through slits.

“I—“

“We will discuss this after my meeting. Until then, I want my office spotless.” Levi continues, cutting you off. He begins walking towards the door and pauses once he reaches for the handle. “Oh and Y/N?”

You look up, meeting the CEO’s annoyed orbs. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re on strike one.” Levi warns. You did not even have a chance to ask questions as his office door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone to sulk in your thoughts.

You tidied up Levi’s office like he requested of you. Every paper went into its appropriate home, cushions are straightened out, rug is vacuumed, and you are currently dusting. This man is a clean freak by nature so there was not much to do. Still, your nerves were pulsating. This is only day one and you are not on Levi’s good side. You are becoming worrisome as your job is now potentially on the line.

The door opening made you jump. You can feel Levi’s silver orbs on you as you dust his bookshelf. He did not disturb you, though, as he proceeded towards his desk and went to work like nothing happened. Curiosity is begging you to speak, but you remain silent and complete your task.

You gather the cleaning supplies and place them back into the small closet. Returning on the guest side of Levi’s desk, he does not even look up from his monitor.

“I’m finished cleaning, sir.”

Levi did not say anything. Instead, he stood up and went to the window. His fingers grazed along the exterior which collected dust on the tips. He studied it for a moment. Your heart stopped as your breath hitched. You did not mean to forget the windows, but they look so clean already. They truly do not need much more cleaning.

“Seems like you missed a spot.” He remarks, turning to face you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I thought—“

“Your cleaning is lamentable. Back to dusting. Now.” He demands, cleaning the dust off of his fingers with his handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, gathering the cleaning supplies once again. You sprayed the windows and clean every inch of them until lunch time. Levi was sure to inspect your work before releasing you to go get something to eat.

“You’re dismissed.” He finally speaks. You are quick to collect your belongings leave his office. You stroll the long hallway to the elevator. You are finally alone with your thoughts and honestly, they were overwhelming. This job is very nerve racking and it’s only your first day. You are not making the best of impressions on your boss.

Digging in your purse, you check your cellphone. You have several missed calls and texts from your significant other. A pit in your stomach began to drown your appetite. You know this is going to cause a major fight between you two. A fight you did not want to participate in.

Reluctantly, you call your boyfriend back. He picks up on the second ring.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He hissed, sending chills down your spine. The elevator doors open and you head towards the cafeteria.

“Working. I can’t be on my phone while I’m—“

“So work is more important than me?” He interrupts.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.” You argued, picking up a bag of chips and a drink from the dispensers before checking out.

“Then answer my damn calls, Y/N!”

“I can’t when I’m at work!” You exclaimed. You hand the cashier money before mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ She gave you a worried look, but you disregarded it. This is not the first time that have heard a heated conversation between you and your boyfriend.

You go find an empty table to eat by yourself. The bickering between your boyfriend did not end on a good note as the other line went dead. You slammed your phone back into your purse and forced yourself to eat your chips. You did not even want them. Your relationship is falling through the cracks, you are failing at your job, and you are on the verge of losing what is left of your sanity.

Time really slipped away while you fumed in anger because you are now late to returning to Levi’s office. Tears prickled in your eyes. This is not good at all. Levi is going to be furious. Even possibly firing you.

You raced to his office. You did not even take the elevator as it will take far too long to get to his office. You are panting by the time you arrive and sweat droplets formed at the top of your forehead. Your hands began to shake as your hand rested on the handle. You need to go in there, but your body did not want to move. Your boyfriend is already pissed. You did not want to deal with your furious boss.

Sighing, you forced yourself to go inside. “I am so sorry.” You blurt out as you enter inside. Levi is giving you a disapproving look.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We need to have a talk.”

Following your boss’ orders, you sit in the chair parallel to his. You begin to tremble as you expect the worse. Levi’s glare does not help you feel any less uneasy either. His silver orbs are staring deep into your soul and making you feel small.

“You know you’re on strike three.” Levi begins. You gulp.

“I know, sir. I’m very sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you have in mind for me.” You sigh, trying to remain brave. Levi can see right through it, though. His gaze hardens and he makes his way around to your side of the desk. He folds his arms but does not remove his gaze from you once.

“What punishment do you think you deserve?” Levi ask, hoping you have the same answer in mind as him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll take anything. It’s what I deserve.” You admit, a flustered feeling coming across you. Levi studied your features, clicking his tongue.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?” You whispered, not sure if you heard your boss correctly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His intimidating glare pierced through you.

“Talking to that lame ass boyfriend of yours must have you goin deaf. I said bend over my desk.” Levi instructs, letting go of your chin once you catch his drift. You do as your told, bending over his desk. You are uncertain what he is planning to do, but the removal of your skirt gave you a pretty good idea. Your cheeks felt hot as your bare ass is now exposed to Levi’s viewing.

“Lace panties, huh? You planned on being put in this position later?” Levi chuckles, his digits playing with the strap of your thong. You bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say. A hard smack to your bare ass caused you to release a moan.

“I asked you a question. It’s only polite to answer, brat.”

“Yes. It was for my boyfriend.” You confess in embarrassment for more reasons than one.

“Oh, I see. Your toxic little relationship is in need of fixing, but the only thing you have to offer is your pretty little pussy.” Levi analyzes, rubbing his hand on your ass before delivering another slap. You wince in pain, but you mentally screamed for more. You wanted Levi to continue spanking you.

“That’s not it, sir.” You mumbled. His hand landed down on your sore ass once more while the other hand finds refuge in your hair. He pulls it, tightly, bending your head back.

“What really gets me is this mouth of yours. I suggest you use it to tell the truth before I stuff it.” Levi growls lowly in your ear, letting go of your hair to return behind you.

Another slap was delivered. Little melodies of moans escaped your lips that you attempted to conceal. Levi did not comment on it as he proceed with the punishment. Your cunt dripped with your slick. It is begging to be touched, fucked, anything Levi desires really.

A few slaps and a very red ass later, Levi’s digits founder their way inside your soaked cunt. “Someone enjoyed themselves, hm?” He teased, curling his fingers in you. You shuffle a bit, enjoying the sensation he is giving you. The removal of his fingers made you whine in a needy tone.

“I did, Levi. Please fuck me.” You cry, wanting his cock already. He chuckled at your begging, his hand rubbing your red ass then hitting it again.

“On your knees. Now.” Levi demands. You happily oblige before him. He pats your head in approval. “Good girl. You do know how to listen.”

Levi begins unbuckling his black belt. You are practically foaming at the mouth as he slides the leather out of each loop. He sets it on the desk before proceeding to unbuckle his pants, releasing his hard cock for you to pleasure. Your eyes light up at the sight. The tip of his erection is at your lips, ready for you to move forward. Your tongue teases his sensitive head before you let each inch slide in-and-out of your saliva filled mouth.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Levi praises as you deep throat his length. You choke some, but continue taking all of his cock. Your tongue spends time playing with the veins in his cock while his head relaxes in your throat.

“The cock hungry slut having a hard time deep throating all my cock?” Levi mocks as you pull it out to catch your breath. A string of saliva connected your lips and his cock together as your lust filled orbs met his.

“Not a chance.” You grin, placing his dick back in your mouth. Levi groans in delight as you repeat the same patterns as before. His cock twitches inside your mouth as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down your throat. You gladly swallow it as his cock becomes overwhelmed, releasing his semen onto your tongue. Not a drop was spilled as you milked his cock for all he had to offer.

Pulling away, Levi praises you again. “Such a good little slut you are. Time we give your pussy some attention, huh?”

“Yes, please, sir.” You beg, eagerly. He taps his desk.

“Bend over my desk.” He commands. Following orders, you bend over his desk like before. You arched your back so your ass and pussy is more accessible for Levi. He spreads your legs out more so your weeping cunt is fully exposed. The cold air sent chills down your spine. Levi is already hard again as he stares at your pussy.

Aligning himself, the tip of his cock enters your dripping hole, sliding in perfectly. You moan as he thrust a rough rhythm. His hips slap against your ass and his hands cling onto your hips. You tightly hang onto his desk as he pick up the pace. You sob out pleas for more.

“Better quiet down. Don’t want your coworkers hearing me fuck you like the whore you are now do we?”

You did not even care. You wanted Levi and you wanted him bad. Groans and profanities filled the room from you two as Levi hits all the right spots. You babble incoherent sentences as you start to climax again on Levi’s girth. Your walls clenched on his size and released when he re-enters himself. This does not stop Levi, though, as he chases after his own high.

“Already cumming again, slut?” Levi teases as he is slowly losing himself inside you. He hit your ass again while his dick twitches. “Ask permission next time.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cry out, not wanting him to stop. He pulls on your hair again, bending down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so much that you have to hide it from your boyfriend.”

“Please Levi.” You beg, not even caring anymore. You wanted Levi. You have wanted him for a long time and the feeling is mutual on his end. That is why he hired you, after all.

Levi’s cock could not withstand the pressure anymore. Releasing into the depths of your cunt, he huffs profanities as every drop enters inside of you. You gladly take it as you breathe heavily. He finally pulls out, leaving you a cum filled mess. Giving your ass a gentle tap so you will get up.

“You are dismissed for the day.” Levi grumbled as he situated himself and you did the same. You straightened out your outfit and fixed your hair. You will fix your makeup in the restroom. You proceeded to exit your boss’ office when he called out to you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You purred, looking over your shoulder.

“Let your boyfriend know you’re my slut now.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[tendousthoughts]

hey! what about kuroo and suna calling their s/o annoying? i love your work by the way!

HQ Boys Calling Their S/O Clingy pt. 2

Character(s) included: Kuroo & Suna

Warning(s): Foul language (cursing)

A/N: I realized that in my part one I actually had them call them clingy, I really hope that’s what you meant!! I am really dumb and titled it wrong! So imma make this clingy/annoying now- again I apologize! Anything that is with the line next to it (like now) happened the day before, anything normal is present day! This is my first request on here! Thank you so much for all the support on my first part (here). Thank youuu to the writer on this, I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! As always my ask box is open for request, comment, or if you just have some questions! Follows and likes are greatly appreciated! Reblogs help my content get spread so please if you find it good go ahead and do so thank you! Also if anyone wants to rp as lovers- I don’t care about the gender! They can just be meeting or whatever lmao I’m bored.

Song of the day: I was an island

My Masterlist: here

Credit: @/teesumu

Kuroo

You and Kuroo rarely fought. Almost the perfect couple some might say. But his long nights at his job are getting tough to deal with. With your anniversary coming up, you were ready to just celebrate it together. Yet it didn’t really go as planned.

“Um.. Kuroo you think you can take off of work for like a week. Like two weeks from now?” You smiled thinking of how fun it would be.

“Um.. I don’t know,” he grumbled sleepily as he wrote down some notes.

“Oh okay.. um if you can that would be great be-” he finally turned to you looking dead into your eyes.

“I already said that I’ll see okay? I need you to stop being so fucking clingy and annoying.” He lashed out. He immediately covered his mouth looking at you, realizing what he had just said.

“I didn’t mean to..” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes “I didn’t mean to lash out like that. I’m sorry y/n.” You just stood there and shook your head.

Wiping your teary eyes. It wasn’t like you haven’t ever heard that or even thought that before. But hearing it from the love of your life hurt a lot more. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry..” you whisper as you make your way to the bathrooms to wipe down your teary cheeks.

You guys went to bed after that. The only thing that seemed to keep you guys close, were the empty sheets. The thought of you being clingy stuck.

When you woke up you got up and made breakfast for the both of you leaving his on the table while you began to work. You kept thinking back to the night before. God why did it hurt so much. Were you really that clingy? Were you that annoying to everyone? You pushed all that down. Deep down. When he woke up he didn’t feel the best.

“Morning kitty..” he mumbled as his voice sounded like frogs croaking.

“You okay?” You mumble as you type away.

“Not feeling too good.. I might stay home.” He grabbed the food you left for him. “Thanks for breakfast.”

You glanced over and then looked back. “Okay.” He looked a bit confused and walked over sitting next to you on the couch.

“So you wanna hang out today or..?” He chuckles a bit.

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking. I got a lot of work to do but I’ll talk to you later.” You mumbled as you type some more notes onto your email and send it.

He stood there confused, you never said no to hanging out. It was like you were someone different, but at the same time it could just be that you did have a lot of work to do. “Oh okay..” he mumbled, getting up.

A couple hours pass and he comes up to you again as you watch tv. You were at you breaking point when he asked what was wrong yet you tried to contain yourself. He tried to wrap his warm arms around you yet you dodged it and left the room.

At night he came in and looked at you, “Why have you been so distant today..?” He whispered as he poked at you.

You look at him with tears as you finally broke. “I am sorry.. I.. I just was trying to be less clingy for you.” Your voice cracked as you hid your face from him.

He ran up to you wrapping his tight warm arms around you, even trying to be freed; you weren’t able to break through. “Babe...” he whispered softly. “I told you I was being an ass last night. I am sorry, you’re not clingy or annoying and I know you just wanted to hang out. I know you were trying to just be helpful by telling me in advance and I was being a dick babe. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry.” Hw whispered in your ear as he held you. “I am sorry kitty.. I am so sorry,” he mumbled softly.

You melted in his grasp, “it’s okay..” you mumble. “I just wanna cuddle for a bit if you don’t mind...?”

“Of course baby.. anything for you,” he mumbles just a bit before closing his eyes. “I love you so much..”

“I love you to baby..” you held on tight relaxing just a bit.

Suna

Suna... Suna. He was something, always calm and collected with you. But when he was having a rough day he was quite the opposite. It was like he was a different person.

You clung to him the moment you guys met. Being there with him when nobody else would. Your love language was touch and you couldn’t deny it. Just by holding his hand gave you butterflies.

“Welcome home!” You smiled as he walked in. God, he looked like a mess. He looked tired and sick. “Are you feeling okay?” You clung to his arm.

“Not really..” he mumbled as he made his way to the bedroom.

“Do you wanna take a bath? I can get one started?” You were trying to be helpful, honestly you were but the questions were starting to get on his nerves.

“Uh sure..” he grumbled.

“Do you wan-” he lost it. He couldn’t deal with the amount of questions.

“Can you stop?” He shoved you off. “Just get off me. You’re too clingy, and I don’t need your help with everything. Leave me the fuck alone will you?” You look at him shocked.

“I’m..” you mumble something underneath your breath. “Nevermind sorry for wasting your time, and being so clingy.” You walk off leaving him shocked and feeling like a dick.

You decided to sleep in the spare bedroom that night not wanting to be “too clingy” again.

When you woke up you went to the room he was sleeping in to grab your clothes and head back into the room. When you finished changing you decided to head out and clear your mind a bit.

“Baby can we talk..?” He knocked on the now empty room door. He barely slept thinking about how much of an ass he was. He slowly opened the door. “Ba-” he looked around and assumed you left.

When you walked back into the house he seemed to be waiting for you. “Uh.. welcome back..” he mumbled.

“I guess, you need something or can I just go back to my room?” You look over.

“Uh I was thinking we can talk maybe?” He looked up.

“Uh I don’t know what about but sure.” You sat far away from him looking up at him softly. “So.. what do you wanna talk about?”

He looked over, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.. I’m sorry. Please stop being so distant.. I love you” he couldn’t make up a single thought.

“ ‘s okay... I love you baby..” you mumbled softly tears bribing your eyes as you looked up.

“Um.. can we cuddle or - ?” He looked up as your arms tightly wrapped around him. He sighed contently relaxing into your arms. This was all he ever needed, you.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

[leviiattacks]

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n 

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

[bee-cried]

Welp

I'm a slut for this fic

Expand this post at ur own risk

but i warned you and you're still here

interesting🤔...

🤭

i wonder how sbj feels about fic written for her story? That's why I don't like tagging these posts with the mth tag because I feel like that's both rude and like...

I don't know.

If I made a fanfic for a show I loved, shipping my favorite characters, and I felt like all the ships are basically otp, just for someone who's read my story and liked it, to come and rewrite it to fit their original characters in it, I'd feel... quite odd to say the least. 😐

But I wanted to post this because I was going to post art but it's too late and I don't feel like drawing. I hate drawing rn. It is what it is.

If SBJ ever does come across this post and she's not with it, I will take this down because I get it. It's her idea.

But weird confesstion time: I think I'm more of a fan girl for MTH than PPG at this point. Does anyone else feel this way? :I

I think Racket admitted that once, I don't know, don't "quote me" but.... yeah...

I've been reading this fic since 2014, dead ass, and when I tell you guys I've literally been rewriting the entire story to make my own AU

I'm not lying. It's... very strange, I know :(

okay very weird confession time over. I'll regret that in the future lol.

---

So before the story -i'm going to get to it, I promise- I just wanna explain the premise here.

Such as SBJ has aged up the ppg and rrb, I've done the same for my characters.

In a very odd sense, Lillian Bella ,and Jenna are remarkably similar to Bubbles, Buttercup and Blossom.

In many ways, such as the way they interact with each other, their personalities and blah, you'll see what I mean as you read the bit I'm posting.

But I'm dead ass when I say, I made my characters way before I read more than human.

Their personalities did shift though because of other things that influenced me. Such as, Lillian is literally Cat Valentine TM and I know ppl say that Bubbles is also Cat but no-

I have based Lillian off of cat since like 2015. before the conversation for Bubbles started online.

Lol but whatever, these characters do read as rip offs :( i'm sorry.

Lastly, Lillian and Boomer where in a relationship. In this AU Lillian is basically the stand in for Hailey, and the break up made her fall on her ass hard. So yeah, maybe one day i'll repost that "chapter" where u can obviously tell she's trying to ask Boomer out before he inevitably goes for Bubbles.

Sorry Lillian girl, but the blues are fate 💅🏾

so ALLLLLLLLLLLLL that aside.

here's the damn thing, with a lack of attention to spelling and grammar. it's based off of chapter 10 when the boys get sick.

---

Bella flew on her back as she guided Jenna and Lillian though the sky.

“They live right over there, beyond the other apartment complex,” she ordered them, “see?”

Lillian squinted into the distance, “Wow, you really do have good memory.”

“I’m your fucking sister, you should know this first.”

Jenna flew before them, “Come on, I don’t want to be over here too long. The professor should be on his way.”

“Oh, the Professor’s coming? I haven’t spoken to him in awhile,” Bella said.

“He was at the Introduction dance the other day,” her twin responded.

“I know, but we never got to say hi. Too busy bothered with… other things.”

“Like going to the boy’s house?” Jenna asked.

“Precisely.” Bella nodded.

They continued to chat as they neared the complexes. Talking eased Lillian’s nerves at least. Eventually they made it in front of the door. Jenna knocked.

“Go the fuck away,” Butch’s voice said, hoarse.

“Butchy boy, I brought you a present.” Bella said in a singy songy voice.

“Bella?” he muffled. There was faint shuffling before the locks of the door opened. It cracked as Butch peered.

“You actually came?... and Wow, you really did bring a special gift,” he said, oggling the other two girls. “Too bad I’m too sick to enjoy-”

“Butch let us in, we came to fix you,” Bella ordered bowling open the door. 

He stumbled aside as they walked in, “That’s one way to ask if you can come in I guess.” His slacked expression drifted to Jenna as she crossed the threshold. She didn’t notice him starring.

“This place is huge,” she marvelled.

“So is my room, you wanna check that out?” Butch offered.

Bella snorted, “You’re literally crippled right now, and you think Jenna want’s anything to do with you?” 

Butch was determined, but Jenna moved along the apartment, more interested in the layout and design.

“Butch” a throaty deep voice croaked from a lump on the couch, “I thought I told you to shut up. Why are you inviting fucking guest over?”

Lillian immedeatley turned her head. Boomer was turned to the couch he lay on, blanket over his head.

“Boomer, we’ve got ladies,” his brother grinned.

“I don’t care,” Boomer groaned.

“Don’t worry Boomer, we’ll be out of your hair in no time,” Jenna reassured him. She stood a bit rigid in the dining area, “We’re just waiting on your brother to come so we can get this process over with.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay for the hot tub?” Butch rose a brow.

Lillian was amazed. “You guy’s got a hot tub?”

At the sound of her voice, it seemed the Boomer lump went stiff. 

“Sure, if you guys stay over,” Butch sniffled.

Lillian considered, “Mmmh. No thanks, maybe some other time.”

“Think about it,” Butch muttered.

“I’m thinking about how the fuck you guys are survivng off of just silverware and cereal.” Lillian and Jenna turned to Bella who was scouting their kitchen. “What the fuck are you guys even eating in here? Do you share this?” She shook the cereal box she was indicating.

“Get out of their kitchen,” Jenna ordered.

“No. How about I go get food for their kitchen.”

“Volunteering to be a personal butler?” Butch peered up.

“You’re real funny,” Bella muttered opening their fridge. “I’ve got my own butler to demand around. I cant have a butler and be a butler. That’s just silly.” Just then the front door opened and everyone turned to.

Buttercup and Bubbles stood in the doorway, laddened with grocery bags.

“Huh. I’ve gotta make sure I lock that thing more often,” Butch noted to himself.

“Welcome to the party,” Bella said from the kitchen.

Bubbles instantly rushed to Boomer as Buttercup dropped her groceries, “I didn’t even know we were having one.” Butch helped himself to her bags.

“What brings you guys?” Jenna asked. Bubbles was sat on the edge of the couch, comforting her sick boyfriend.

“We’ve bout some stuff to help the boys feel better in the meantime. I’m cooking soup.”

“You’re going to cook for us?” Butch said, a sparkle in his eye.

“Don’t get too happy. I’m just doing this as a friend.”

“Oh Buttercup, you really are the bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Butch moaned blearily.

“Uh huh.”

“Hey! what about me?” Bella called from the kitchen, closing the fridge door. “I came to help as well.”

“Help raid our pantry?” Butch offered.

“No,” Bella replied back just as snarky, “Help bring my sister so that she can make you guys feel better faster.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Jenna sighed, pulling out a chair for herself, “Lillian is here to help with recovery. But aside from that I have no clue why Bella tagged along.”

“Emotional support.” she said as if it were obvious.

“Guy’s I don’t mean to be a mood killer,” Bubbles said gently from the couch, “but Boomer say’s that he’s really tired and he’d like some rest.”

The room replied with various apologies before ending the conversation. Having nothing else to distract him, Butch eventually fell back asleep on the floor as Buttercup began assorting the groceries, the other girls offering their help alongside her.

------

LAtEr

aye

THIS PART IS LITERALLY SBJ'S WRITING. WORD FOR WORD.

I am just showing off the parts I added in, to show the general vibe of how I weave in my story.

Read More than Human it's better anyway lol :)

continuing

---

“How are you feeling?” Bubbles asked as she poured a fresh glass of water for Boomer and carried it over to the couch. “Any better?”

“I guess. At least until you leave.” He grinned weakly at her, and she smiled.

“Ugh, now you’re making me sick,” Buttercup gagged from the kitchen. Lillian had just finished chopping the carrots and dumped them into the bowl beside her. Jenna was washing dishes and Bella made use with Butch’s playstation portable in the meantime.

Bubbles shot a disapproving look over her shoulder. “Nobody asked you to stay,” she retorted, and Butch raised his hand from where he laid on the living room floor.

“I asked,” he pointed out. “Because Boomer didn’t feel like playing with me. ‘Go play with yourself,’ he said.”

“Hey,” Boomer warned, eyes narrowed. “We got ladies in the house.”

“Ladies cooking for you, no less,” Buttercup muttered under her breath as she set a pot of water to boil. “A little help, Bubbles?”

 She picked up the bowl of vegetables Lillian had just chopped up for her. “Well, at least I got some help. Thanks, Lillian,” she mumbled giving her sister a pointed glare.

Lillian giggled, “It’s no problem. I love cooking.”

“I can tell. You did good with these.” She shuffled the bowl around inspecting the cuts she was granted with.

As she did so, Lillian went to chop some onions, quietly keying on the conversation in the livingroom.

Bubbles looked down at Boomer and smiled again. “Drink your water.”

The look on his face was apprehensive. “Don’t leave me. What if I drown?”

Bubbles stifled a giggle and tried to look serious. “You’re going to drown in that cup of water?”

“I’m very sick, you know. It could happen.”

“You’re just… you’re so silly!” Bubbles laughed, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Hey, how come I don’t get any kisses?” Butch sounded upset.

“Bubbles! Help much?!” Buttercup snapped. “Seriously, for Christ’s sake!”

“Alright! Keep your shirt on,” Bubbles grumbled, squeezing Boomer’s hand before heading for the kitchen.

“Please don’t,” Butch said hopefully. “Please don’t keep your shirt on.”

Buttercup pitched a dish towel at him.

Bella who had headphones on and was sat at the dining table, removed one muff not taking her eyes off of her game, “Are you guys seriously talking about fucking while the boys are sick?…. Because that would be actually sick.”

“Put your headphones back on,” Buttercup grumbled pulling out a spoon.

“No. I want in on this. If the room is in favor of an orgy, I am too.”

“But didn’t you just say that was sick?” Lillian blinked innocently as she peeled her onion. Bella was too distracted by the game in her hands to answer.

“She is no help,” Buttercup mumbled.

“Trust me Buttercup, her being occupied with the game is the greatest help you’ll get from her in this situation.” Jenna said nonchalantly drying a dish and setting it aside.

“Yeah, Bella’s pretty bad in the kitchen,” Lillian giggled, thinking furtively back to her sister's many kitchen atrocities. 

Bubbles had joined her side. She was bright, “Ooh! Blossom’s not good as well. I guess we all aren’t so different after all.” she said giddy.

Lillian quietly looked at her as Bubbles, chipper,  reached for a knife herself. She decidedly moved her cutting board to the other counter where Jenna was apart of, “Yeah, maybe so,” she said in a quiet voice. Bubbles blinked.

Some tomatoes was set in front of her.

“Get to chopping,” Buttercup ordered. 

Bubbles rolled her eyes lightheartedly and began chopping up a tomato, all the while she cast Lillian a distrait look over her shoulder.

--And lastly, closure between Lillian and Boomer--

Lillian was the last at the boys house. As awkward as it was arriving, eventually with the day panning along she’d loosened up and got more comfortable. 

After the girls left, Jenna surely left. She checked on Brick before leaving though, but he’d been asleep. Lillian noticed she’d been glancing at Brick’s door all day, especially when Blossom was in it. 

After she left, the professor showed up. He was very delighted to see Lillian and Bella. They talked for a while, shared pleasantries, and then he did his part before waving goodbye. Bubbles had waved too and thinking back to the hard time Lillian was giving her today, she granted her a small wave back feeling a bit guilty. 

Eventually, Bella fell asleep at the table as night fell and Lillian worked on her personal remedy that she needed to give to the boys before she left. 

She looked at her glowing hands and sighed, then casted a look at the living room. Boomer and Butch had left for their rooms. She thought about calling them out, but figured their day was hard enough and shook out her nerves before starting off-

“Want me to go with you?” Bella mumbled beside her. Lillian blinked to her.

“No. It’s fine.” she mumbled before starting for Brick’s room. 

Brick was asleep luckily for her, so she made his visitation quick, so was Butch. Boomer’s room was the door she hesitated in front of. The soft sleep of her sister was just beyond her, like a personal reminder to get a move on.

Lillian swallowed thinking back to the one and only time she got a glimpse of his room. It was a Nirvana poster and an acoustic guitar, and it stayed that way and it was perfect that way when she thought about it. 

She placed a reluctant hand on the knob and twisted very gently, easing the door open as not to make a sound. 

He said nothing. 

She opened the door a little more and shuffled in, trying not to be so awkward about this. She got a good look of his space. There were posters plastered everywhere,  mainly blonde girls and rock stars. She noted those blonde girls specifically though, and wondered, grudgingly, what he’d ever saw in a girl like her?  

His room was a little messy, not as wild as Butch's but messy nonetheless.  He was lied on his bed turned to the other wall with a window shining dimly behind curtains. It was dark, but she didn't want to wake him up so she used the light around her to her advantage. 

When she reached him, she halted, hovering above him a bit. She felt her stomach doing cartwheels.

He slept very peacefully on his side. He didn't snore or breath heavy, he just lay real still, blankets pulled over him. 

her hands tingled to touch him with the remedy. She took a deep breath and reached out for his shoulder-

He turned. Lillian wretched her hand back and gasped. 

His eyes were open but heavy. 

"You're still here?" He asked, surprisingly nonchalant. His voice was still sore, she could hear it, but it was also drowsy. 

"I'm… I'm here to help you." Lillian whispered. "Get better."

"Mhh," he hummed. Then he sniffles. "You're not gonna get sick?"

"I'm immune to the virus naturally," she said fiddling with her fingers.

"Oh. Sweet," he muttered.

She touched his shoulders feeling how incredibly warm he was. It was worrisome, though all the boys had that temperature tonight. The light in her hand navigated slowly through his body.

As she waited for the remedy to pass through, she cleared her throat, a bit awkward. "H-how long were you up? Are you okay? Do you need water or…anything like that?"

"No. It's okay." Boomer croaked. "I wouldn't want to bother you."

Lillian looked simultaneously confused and frustrated, "why would that be bothering me?"

"Because like… you still sort of hate me and all."

Lillian went quiet. She bit her lip looking down. She didn't hate Boomer but…

But maybe she was being a jealous friend. 

She sighed shaking her head, "Boomer, I don't hate you." She said softly. She looked at him, "I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

He coughed and looked down, "You don't have to apologize."

It was quiet for a moment before Lillian muttered, "I feel like I should." 

It was quiet again. 

"Well whatever I did, I'm sorry too," Boomer mumbled. 

"That's the thing," she mumbled. A horrid sense of guilt began to wash over her as she looked down at her shoes. "That's the thing about this entire situation.  You've done nothing. You don't deserve to feel bad because I'm upset. It's just not right and… I'm being a bad friend trying revolve everything around me." She blinked, sadly, "I'm-... you're not in the wrong here."

Boomer looked at her. She didn't catch the gaze he casted her.

“Sorry,” she finally breathed.

His hand was hot as it clasped around the wrist of the hand healing him. She finally looked up into his eyes, though sick, ironically warm. 

“Me too.” He said, his voice soft like a whisper. “About…everything. About how it all went down.”

She could tell, he was talking about something different. Deeper than her entire petty dilemma, and that struck something within her. Something regretful.

Was this the only closure she was going to get? A tragic one?

As she looked into Boomer’s eyes, recalling the look of admiration he once gave her that he now gave to another girl, she came to a stubborn realization.

That perhaps she was asking too much from a boy. A simple boy, who only wanted to move on, and for some reason she wanted to keep him forever. It could simply be that she needed to let him go and appreciate the extension of friendship he offered her over and over again.

Even when she ignored it. Even when she hated him for it. 

The pressure of his hand went slack as he began to drift unconscious, probably too exhausted to keep up with the conversation he engaged with her in the first place. 

She stood by his bedside, hand on his shoulder and her heart heavy.

***

Bella shook her head awake as a tap came to her shoulder.

“We can go now. I’m all done,” Lillian whispered.

Bella made a loud ‘Phew’ sound that Lillian immediately, sternly, shushed amidst the various snoring in the house. Bella stretched to get up, “You were taking forever, what time is it?” she yawned.

Lillian tugged her phone out, light briefly illuminating her face, “It’s 11:20.”

“Whoo! We just stayed past curfew at the rowdyruff boys house,” Bella cheered. Lillian winced.

“Go. The fuck. Home.” A dark voice muttered from Brick’s room. Both twins looked to his door.

“We should go.” Lillian whispered hurriedly, to her sister as she steered her out.

“But I wanted another bowl of that soup-”

“Come on,” Lillian said, pushing her out the door. She locked the bottom, even if it seemed futile to do so, out of respect for their privacy, and possibly to discourage her sister from trying to get back in.

---

okay- that's it. i'm done lmao

if you stuck around this long, thanks for reading!

oh and, for reference, if it matters, I have pictures of Lillian, and Bella but not Jenna so

Jenna is brown skin, I can't decide on her eye color atm but she has long dark auburn hair.

[anashins]

No Talking in the Library || Taeyong

"Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check."

There are still so many things you want to do in your last semester before graduation, and Taeyong is willing to help you.

_______

Skinny dipping

Partying all night long

Drinking hard shots

Dancing on a bar counter

Playing spin the bottle

Getting completely drunk

Attend an illegal rave

Kiss s/o I just met

Ditch classes

You inhaled deeply and tucked the sheet back into your dress’s pocket and out of your sight, your thoughts revolving around the last point you’ve written again.

Losing my virginity

You were already a few months into your last year of university and yet you still felt like you hadn’t experienced everything a normal college kid should have once done in their young lives.

That you hadn’t really lived so far.

Looking at your friends, they had left you behind a long time ago in the first semester already when it came down to checking off bucket lists. It wasn’t like you were too shy or stayed away from parties and boys, though. The opportunity just had never arisen, and only now you realized that it probably never would if you wouldn’t take fate into your own hands.

You were sick and tired of waiting for the perfect moment and the perfect guy.

Looking at your watch, you realized it was nearly time for your next class and that you slowly had to get going.

Passing by different bookshelves, you were pondering whether to still search for lecture here in the library to read through the weekend in preparation for the project you had to work on the next week, but you quickly resisted the urge to do so as you had already collected enough and headed straight to the door.

“Watch out!” you still heard before the next thing you felt was pain crippling your face.

Only the break of a second was needed before numbness turned into pain and shot through your nerves that even reached the tips of your fingers with the root of the ache being your nose.

“Oh my god!” you squealed and brought your hands to the middle of your face while tears welled up behind your squinted eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” a male voice said, full with panic.

When you dared to open your lids, you looked into the eyes of the guy who had banged the entry door right into her face.

“You nearly killed me!”

“I’m so sorry, y/n!”

When he mentioned your name, you turned keen-eared. Blinking through your tears, you slowly started to get a sharper view of the boy in front of you as well. Just slightly taller than you, dark hair, and an expression as shocked as yours.

You just didn’t know his name anymore.

“Does it hurt that bad? Shall we go to the ward to get a cooling pad or something?”

You shook your head and slowly brought your hands down again. The guy had a hard time biting down the smile that threatened to slip off his lips. With care, he touched your arm in a comforting gesture to reassure you.

“I’m sorry, but you totally look like Rudolph the reindeer now.”

You sniffed. “Yes, thanks to you!”

“Okay, that’s true,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “How about I make it up to you, hm?”

“Uh…” You stared at him, yet you still weren’t able to classify his familiar face.

“Hey!” You suddenly got interrupted by the library’s supervisor, a middle-aged woman who was always wearing a frown and owned the hearing of a bat. “No talking in the library! Go inside or leave, but this door has to be closed, understand?”

You nodded, and the guy made a move to pass by the librarian, but not without whispering to you “Come here!” before you disappeared into the library again, the door closing shut behind you.

Having you by his arm, he dragged you along the rows of bookshelves until he found a quiet corner in the very far back of the library. All the while when you were looking at his back, you tried to remember where you knew him from.

And then it suddenly came into your mind.

When you opened the group convo with your friends, his face would appear right next to the unsaved contact that your friend Johnny had added two days prior.

It was Lee Taeyong.

Johnny, Ten, and Jaehyun’s new roommate who you had also met once before at Johnny’s birthday party last week.

“Hey, at least your nose is not red anymore, huh?” he laughed when he came to a hold.

“Banging a door into my face again, Taeyong?” you asked back. “I have to admit, this is kind of a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“You know my name! Admittedly, even just now I wasn’t so sure whether you remembered.”

“That was true, but once the pain vanished and I looked at your back, that scene seemed very familiar to me.”

He grinned. “Johnny’s birthday party, yes, I banged a door into your face back then as well. I’m sorry, I am actually a gentleman, I just didn’t have a chance to prove it yet. I hope this isn’t becoming our thing now.“

“You mean… you banging doors into my face? I hope not, because you actually seem like a nice guy, and otherwise I have to do a runner right now. I’d like to live a few years more.”

“My roommates wouldn’t like the thought that I scared their friend away, so let’s keep this a secret, alright?”

He winked and you laughed. You liked his humor very much and were wondering why you two hadn’t talked before at Johnny’s party.

„Oh, what’s this?“

Taeyong lifted his hand and picked up something white from the floor. He inspected his finding and then frowned. The next moment, he presented something to you that hadn’t been supposed to get seen by anyone else aside from you. The sheet. Apparently it had fallen out of your pocket while hurriedly walking!

You blushed up to her ears and snatched it out of his hand. “Don’t read this!”

He shrugged. “Well… it was quite hard not to miss the significant writing while picking it up, so…”

“Ugh…” You rolled your eyes into oblivion and wished for a hole to appear right under you to vanish in there right now.

You felt your ears burning and a hot flush running down your back as you remembered the last point you had written down. A stranger knowing about your virgin life! Embarrassing!!

“Do you… actually mean this?”

“Mean what?” you questioned with a shaky voice.

You hadn’t heard the slightest tone of mockery in his voice, you then noticed, and when you dared to look at him again, his gaze was even radiating curiosity, far from scorn.

“The points on this list.”

“Please don’t make fun of me!” you defended yourself. “You don’t know me or why I did this in the first place, so…”

You wanted to quickly pass by him and escape from the scenery, but he grabbed you by your arm and made you stop.

“What I know,” he then spoke, “is that you’re a kind and funny girl, apparently looking for the full college experience, am I right? I would never make fun of someone for that.”

“Okay… thank you. And I’d prefer if you won’t tell anyone about that.”

“That’s a given.”

“So… having checked off anything yet?“

You shook her head, suddenly feeling a weird knot in your stomach. “I just made this today. But now that someone knows about it, it’s probably ridiculous.”

“I don’t think that it’s ridiculous. You just want some fun, what’s so wrong about that?”

You hadn’t looked at this from another point of view, but now Taeyong was giving you his perspective. And he sounded so nonchalant and positive about it that you suddenly didn’t feel as exposed and embarrassed as before.

“You know what I think?” he then blurted out.

“What?” Now, you grew curious.

“I think you need someone to guide you through it, and many more experiences. Go hard or go home.” He grinned. “Someone who’s done all that already.”

“And you’re such a person?” you challenged.

“Let me see.”

Taeyong took the sheet from you again and read through the list. “Skinny dipping? Check. Partying all night long? Every weekend. Drinking hard shots? Also every weekend. Dancing on a bar counter? Double check, except for that one time I fell off. Playing spin the bottle? Boring, but check. Getting completely drunk? More checks than I can remember. Attend an illegal rave? Double check. Kiss someone I just met? I’m not counting this one anymore. Ditch classes? At least once a month. Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check.”

“Okay I understand!” You yanked the paper out of his hand again. “You probably had a few years to experience all this, and I only have the rest of my senior year left.”

“Why the rush?” Taeyong asked.

Reluctantly, you answered, “I’m leaving the country for my PhD.”

He nodded. “I see.”

Folding the sheet in your hands, you tucked it back into your pocket. “But please don’t tell the guys, I haven’t opened up to them about my future plans yet, but I want to tell them personally when the time is right.”

“Of course.” Taeyong paused. “Well, then what’s stopping you from joining a party with me tonight to get started?”

“The fact that I barely know you yet?”

“Hm, of course, you’ve got a point.” Taeyong pursed his lips and seemed to ponder over something. “Why haven’t we really talked before though at Johnny’s birthday party?”

“I really cannot remember what happened after you’ve banged the door into my face.” You chuckled. “I probably went to cry in the bathroom and then we’ve just lost sight of each other, because you haven’t found a weird sheet from me like today.”

“So… Since you only could remember me just now, we can technically say we’ve just met, right?”

“I’d sign that.”

“Great.”

You barely had time to wonder why he was grinning from ear to ear yet again when you felt Taeyong’s lips on yours the next moment.

They were soft and warm, his movements gentle at first, and he tasted so fresh and minty, and a little bit sweet as though he had drunk some fruit juice just before. Very summerly, and very manly.

His sudden kiss had left you speechless as well as motionless in the beginning, but you, now in high spirits, started to take pleasure in this act not long after his first move as you leaned against him and were welcomed with open arms.

Taeyong was a very handsome guy, there was nothing to deny about that fact, and he was a good kisser on top of that.

His hands made your body angle so that he could circle his arms around your waist and pressed you firmly against him. With your hands, you wandered upwards and sunk your fingers into his fluffy hair just in the moment Taeyong made you part your lips to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

Of course you had kissed boys before. Just because you were still a virgin didn’t mean you had never made out with someone.

But you had never made out with someone this good before.

Although you had gotten a door into your face shortly before, you weren’t so sure whether it was truly only the aftereffects of a possible head injury or Taeyong’s uninterrupted, passionate and oh-so-good kissing or both that got you feel so lightheaded and dizzy.

But what you knew was that you were enjoying that kiss very much.

And that you wanted more.

And Taeyong apparently as well as he proved it to you when his hands curved against your buttocks, and he gently shoved you backwards until your back rested against the wall behind you.

With his fingers, he felt the tender and glowing skin under your shirt’s bottom hem, massaging the spot there lightly as your hands simultaneously grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled him so close to you that no sheet would fit in the slit between you two anymore.

Secretly kissing in the library hadn’t been written down on your agenda, but you took whatever you could get to make your last semester a memorable one.

This was so fun to you that you started to think that this bucket list that you had made wasn’t that much of a bad idea after all if every single one of the experiences would leave you that excited as kissing Taeyong.

When you parted, he was still wearing that grin that now seemed more sweet than smug to you, and you joined him.

“Kiss someone you just met? Check.”

“Well, then our meeting here didn’t go to waste after all,” you concluded.

Admittedly, you wanted more. And by the way Taeyong looked at you, still so turned on and dreamy, he didn’t seem to loathe that idea as well.

“How about putting another point up that list?”

“Such as…?” You tilted your head.

“Making out with someone you’ve just met at a party?”

You playfully looked away as though you were in deep thoughts, but to you, the answer was clear the moment he had proposed the idea to you. “I think that’s an experience I shouldn’t miss as well.”

Just as Taeyong let out a relieved laughter and leaned in to you again, you heard a familiar,

“No talking in the library!”

In front of them stood the librarian with the worst timing ever.

“Technically, we weren’t talking,“ Taeyong cleared up cheekily as he withdrew from you, and you nodded in approval.

The librarian though looked confused.

The wink Taeyong shot into your direction was only visible for you, and you blushed faintly as you agreed, “Yeah, we were anything but talking.”

„But I heard you!“ the elderly woman scolded.

“Well, we did something much more fun than talking,” Taeyong explained, but before the librarian could chide more, you laughingly escaped to the outside.

„So about the party…“ he then started as the library’s door closed behind you. „Since we’re technically no strangers anymore…“

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. „Perhaps, I’ll come to the party.“

„And then move on to check off the other points?“ He smirked.

You stuck your tongue out at him, but were really looking forward to tonight.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[mrskurono]

title: N/A || Megumi Fushiguro x FemSorcerer!reader a/n: this is old and converted from a fic I ditched with an oc so I reformatted it to a reader x type of deal word count: 1.7k tags: mentions of death, reader is queer (pan or bi you decide), comfort ish fic, fluff, based mostly on the anime since I wrote this prior to reading it character(s): Megumi Fushiguro (jjk)

"Oh, you're awake."

That voice wasn't a surprise. Megumi had heard it before as he lie in bed taking the most of his recovery time. Before it had just been to the tune of his eyes closed and his laying still in bed while she either talked to him or any number of nurses that had come and gone over the past twenty four hours. Sitting up in bed now Megumi locked eyes with his visitor. 

A nonverbal acknowledgment to the second year. It took but a moment for the sorcerer to see the small wrapped box you had brought back with yourself. You took heed of your underclassman staring at what you'd brought back. So you took it upon yourself to share without him asking about it. 

"Something to eat," you smiled sweetly. Just as you took up you seat once more at his bedside, this time you placed the wrapped box on the table swung over his bed, "I didn't think hospital food sounded good after that long of a nap."

Megumi looked at the fabric covered tote box placed before him, "That wasn't a nap, I was passed out."

"I know," you nodded, no fault of your own as your smile persisted, "Just telling myself it was a nap calmed my nerves."

He looked up from the unopened treat box. Sincerity in your eyes just as there had been from day one. Megumi questioned how someone so soft would align with such a life. He broke eye contact just to look at the box again. 

Never had he mentioned having any favorite foods to you. Which was partially true. If it tasted good then he'd eat it. Simple as that. So Megumi admitted to being a little taken back by what you could have brought him that wasn't already just easily provided by the hospital.

"Open it already," you coaxed, "I heard your stomach rumble hours ago before you woke up."

He was famished. No lie there. Megumi carefully untied the knot of the neat lunchbox. Unwrapping it's contents to be more than just surprised about what you'd brought him. Delicately worked on onigiri with the three of them sporting different flavors. Crisp tempura fried vegetables laid carefully next to it. And what looked to be a small cup thermos nestled off to the side. He had an idea whatever was in it probably was as good as the rest of the food laid out. 

Seeing the spread all he could muster was purely a question, "Where did you buy this? It looks...nice."

You shook your head, "I didn't. It's all homemade don't worry."

Admitting to the labor that had gone into this gesture only magnified the oddity that was your continual kindness. It wasn't prevalent in a jujutsu sorcerer's life. And simply one not displayed by sorcerer's as a whole. It left Megumi more than a jumble of confused words why his upperclassman could maintain kindness when also baring a curse like the rest of them.

"...thank you, y/n." He looked up from his meal at you, "Really, thank you."

Brimming with a cocky smile that never faded, you gestured to the meal, "C'mon don't thank me without trying it. It could be complete garbage and you don't know."

Megumi handled one of the onigiri as he brought it to his lips. Not meant to hide his soft smile, he still took a pause before biting it, "I know it's good, you made it."

Without a shadow of a doubt he was right. Everything you'd packed into that plain little bento was everything but plain. Delicious down to the last crumble. Megumi hadn't realized it was gone before he was taking the last dribble of soup from the thermos. When he finally set it down to realize his plate empty and stomach full, he found himself wondering once again the same question. 

"...you're such a good cook too," Megumi added to the list of things he'd already told you, you were good at. "Why are you here when you could clearly be doing so many other things."

A shrug with a chagrined look on your face, "Well the other second years are just overreacting with the exchange anyways, and you were here so I thought I'd-"

"No," Megumi shook his head to stop the dodging you always did. "I mean here doing this." 

This question again. You had run into it a few times before with Megumi's questions as well as some of the other students. It never seemed enough to just say one saw curses. Here they wanted detailed information on what landed someone here. As secretive as the jujutsu sorcery field was. You never felt it necessary to divulge your background like it was some stat to be learned in a comic book. You were here and you were learning. What else did people need?

"...I can see curses. Not a lot I can do with that," you answered just as sweetly as any other time the question arose. Where that answer sat just fine with everyone else. Be it maybe a lot of jujutsu sorcerers were a little self centered. Making your kindness stick out like a sore thumb and get seen more than once as a weakness. It also alleviated the need to elaborate most times. But where you found relief in other's laziness not to ask too many questions. It was Megumi's consistently deadpan prying that perhaps drew you to befriend him. That came with the price of his constant inquiry about why you did the things you did. Especially if they involved him.

So again, for what seemed like the hundredth time now in your friendship, Megumi asked, "How did someone so kind get cursed though."

If it were anyone else perhaps you'd ignore it with a sweet smile. Act like it didn't matter and it was just a fluke in your character. There were a million things you'd would rather do than relive the cause of this career choice. Presented with Megumi's brush with death caused a waiver in your conviction to stay out of personal affairs though. You'd made some superficial friendships here. But when the first years, or at least when two of the three first years, returned from a botched first grade curse mission. Very present negative emotions flooded you. Ones all too familiar and worrisome. You were forced to relive a glimpse of your heartache from years ago. With a heavy heart you knew sitting at someone's bedside night and day warranted some kind of explanation.

"...I...I lost someone," you looked down at your empty hands, "When I was younger of course. I guess they were my bestfriend."

Lots of people lost friends and family. Death was present but not normally the clear cut reason to harbor so much negative emotions that fueled Jujutsu Sorcerers. Megumi looked over at his upperclassman wringing your hands together nervously. If death was the cause he knew this couldn't be easy for you to talk about in a setting like a hospital.

Megumi didn't want to upset the semblance of friendship he respected with you, "You don't have to if you don't-"

"No, heh," Looking up from your hands you smiled through a thin veil of tears threatening your distant glazed over eyes, "I'll tell you because...I was just as scared that you were going to die too. And- well, I just don't know if my heart could handle this all over again."

"Your heart?" He didn't show it but Megumi kindled a bit of surprise in his mind knowing he liked your company but didn't know it was reciprocated beyond courteous nature from you. 

A quite nod from you. Your body was present but when Megumi met your eyes it was clear you weren't thinking about the here and now.

"...when I was in primary school I had a best friend I did everything with. She was...she was everything to me." You smiled just at the fuzzy memory, "Nothing fancy I guess, bad things happen everyday. And it was just another day...We were walking home when it happened. A cough, I didn't think anything of it since kids get sick all the time. But before I realized it that would be the last time we would walk home together. The last time we'd do anything together." You brushed the tears from your eyes but didn't let your smile fade, "I couldn't see her before she passed away, something about more kids getting sick and infectious. How I didn't get sick is beyond me. We spent every moment together. Before I knew what happened, my mom broke down telling me she'd died and well...I was just left to process it."

Megumi held his tongue for a moment. There was no trauma. No indicator that it really would be enough to cause anguish such that a curse would be born. While his heart ached for a moment of compassion at your loss, he was still confused as to what upset you enough to bring on the change young Jujutsu sorcerer's experience to put them on this path. 

He didn't need to wait though or even ask when seeing the curses started. You looked at him with the biggest grin while tears rolled down your cheeks and in all sincerity finally told the truth to someone, "It wasn't until later when the curses started showing up and my heart never really healed. I realized what was haunting me....I loved her and never got the chance to tell her that." 

Loss of love and innocence. Deadly and deceitful to a human. Survivors always carried a heavy weight and you were no different. Megumi understood what inflicted your curse energy. It was something that wouldn't leave you until the day you died. Heart wrenching like all jujutsu sorcerer's, it left one question pertinent to Megumi more than anything. 

He looked from you. To the things you'd brought. And finally back at you with the small things connecting in his mind, "Does that mean..."

Your distant stare returned to the present to meet up with Megumi's green eyes. Holding his gaze for a drawn out moment as you fought with what was inside you. Finally you couldn't keep it together and cracked with an incredibly soft smile playing on your lips. You couldn't live with another curse like this so you came clean, "...yeah, I think I love you too."

[wizkiddx]

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent. 

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work. 

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word. 

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life. 

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable. 

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face. 

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even. 

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit. 

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single. 

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh. 

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to. 

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to  and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind. 

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms. 

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with. 

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag. 

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe. 

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both. 

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in. 

You were going to be sick. 

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out. 

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe. 

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs. 

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled. 

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening. 

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now. 

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh. 

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state.  “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist. 

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since?  You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up. 

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence. 

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his. 

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right. 

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was  you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle. 

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it.  Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest. 

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in. 

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it. 

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line. 

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you. 

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks. 

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence. 

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead. 

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too. 

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying. 

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over. 

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again. 

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally. 

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment. 

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders. 

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice. 

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips. 

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you. 

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

[fruitydiaz-archived]

that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

AO3 link

The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

[princessofprocrastination]

Nothing But Hatred (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST 

pairing : georgenotfound / george davidson x reader

summary : you had nothing but love for people, even strangers. so how could george hate you so much? 

a/n : long imagine? i owe you guys this. also, happy new years!

you were taught since young to love people. 

“you don’t know what they have gone through before.” your mum always reminded you whenever you would complain to her about someone. 

and since then, the quote stuck to you. it was planted in your head even more when she passed away. you couldn’t describe the pain to other people. 

your dad also left the earth soon after her, following suite. his last words to you in the hospital were “i know you can take care of yourself, i believe in you. always.” you just turned eighteen then. 

since you were a legal adult, the house was automatically yours. now, you’re twenty-one, and since then, you have moved out. 

you found yourself a decent sized house. born and raised in florida, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the country, or state, that is. that’s just one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to do. 

you often forget that you’re on your own, no parents. born the only child, no siblings. and since you are a legal adult and everyone thinks you’re all good on your own, seeing that you have done many things on your own, your relatives don’t pry in your life. 

no, you weren’t lonely, if you say so yourself. you and dream, or clay, as you call him are best friends. literally platonic soulmates. you met him when you both are seventeen. he stayed with you through everything. 

when he started blowing up on social media, you were ecstatic. but you would often jokingly brag to him that you blew up way before he did. 

you didn’t understand why people watched you, if you were being honest. clay would say that it’s because of your charming and kind self that brought so many supportive people. you don’t agree. 

you never once pried in clay’s life. in social media and in real life. who’s his friends are his and you never would try to come across that. your friends and yours and his friends are his. simple. 

when clay blew up, no one knew that the two of you even knew each other, let alone best friends. they found that out weirdly. somehow they heard clay screaming in your kitchen when you were streaming. that clearly was a common occurrence for you since you barely even acknowledged it. 

yes, before anyone asks, there were shipping comments immediately after that. but, you two talked about it on stream, about how you two were nothing but amazing friends. but neither of you mind the ship comments. the fanarts have always been so incredible. 

being the biggest supporter of clay, or dream, you watched every single stream, video, liked posts of his, so you knew who his friends were. 

although you told clay that you didn’t want to pry into his life, he begged you to talk to his friends. you clicked so well with everyone. beside george. you didn’t understand it at first. whenever you’d watch his streams, he’d seem so nice and welcoming. 

but somehow, whenever you’d join in their discord or play in the dream smp, his tone would change drastically. 

after some time, you got the memo. he just didn’t like you. and you accepted that. not everyone would like you, so you backed off. you gave excuses to clay if george was present. 

you didn’t want to be the one interrupting his stream or be the cause of his mood change. so you stayed away, and so far, it had been better that way. 

you and clay were different in some ways. everyone is. but to be more specific, he made his money off of social media. and no, this wasn’t to say that he is below you. in fact, he was lucky that he got to do that. 

and this also didn’t meant that you couldn’t live off of your streaming money, you just rather do something other than social media. you wanted to make sure that if one day your social media career were to flop, you’d have a backup plan. 

but you didn’t want to put your degree to waste. your mum used to tell you all the time to study all while you are still young, so that you don’t regret it when you’re older. 

so that is what you did. you spent your years studying psychology, something you’ve always wanted to do. and in your free time, you’d stream or make videos. you didn’t tell that to the public, wanting that part of you to be private and away from social media. 

and one more thing, you never once brought up the loss of your parents to the public. you wanted people to like you for you, and not want them to like you for pity. hence, no one besides clay knew about your parents. 

and lucky for you, clay understood and no one had brought up any questions about your parents. they just knew you lived alone. 

you sat on clay’s bed, on your laptop, typing in important paperwork that had to be done from home. he invited you over. he told you he was lonely and that he needed the company. and in exchange of your company, he’d buy the both of you takeout for dinner. 

so you agreed. you told him that you being there would make no difference since you would be sat in the corner doing work anyways but he still begged you to come, saying that he didn’t mind it, that he just wanted you to be there. 

that is another common occurrence. there are days when he just needed someone to be there with him, in the same room. you never asked why but you enjoyed the company too, so you never bothered to know. 

as you sat on his bed typing, he was on his desk recording a minecraft hitmen video for his youtube with george, sapnap and badboyhalo. you could feel the nerves coming from him. 

he did need to pay his friends if he lost, after all. not that he cared about money but his ego was too big to lose now. 

you heard him bang his desk as he won, somehow by flying a boat. your best friend was a genius anyways, so you were not surprised that he did something new. 

now they were just talking on discord, you still typing on your laptop, unmoving from your spot on his bed. 

“you hungry?” clay asked you, to which you didn’t reply, since you were too focused into your work. he called your name another two times before you stopped typing and looked up at him. 

you shook your head, and pointed to your laptop, telling him that you just wanted to get this done before the two of you ate. he continued talking to his friends after that. 

“yeah she’s here. i just needed the company.” you heard him say. you knew he was talking about you. his friends probably asked who he was talking to earlier, anyway. 

“george, stop.” you heard him say. your heart sunk a little. you could hear the conversation going on in discord. you had heard george saying something along the lines of ‘if she’s here i’m out.’

that really hurt, but you knew you had to suck it up. “i’ll leave, it’s okay.” you said, closing your laptop and picking up your stuff. 

“wait, don’t leave. he’s jok-” 

“i’ll see you another day, clay. go have fun.” you cut his sentence, smiling at him as you left his room, and place. 

as you sat in your car, driving home, you wondered if you were really unlikeable. clay always said that you are the nicest person he’s ever met yet you never believed him. this was the reason. why did his friend hate you so damn much?

you tried to push it to the back of your mind. you parked your car in your house garage, but stayed in the car. 

at this time you wished you had your parents still. death comes to everyone at some point, and you knew that. but it felt unfair, not having both your parents. you wished you still had them to talk to, to hug and cry to whenever you had a bad day.

weeks pass since that uneventful day and you are not having the best day. 

to sum it up, you went to work early, ready to meet your mentor, to teach you the way around your workplace. however, your mentor had called in sick and apologized to you. 

everyone gets sick so you didn’t blame her. but that would mean that you had to do things on your own, no one to guide you, so you were lost constantly. this also meant that you were screamed at a lot. 

they called you names, saying that you are useless, slow, lazy, and that you are just a pretty face but you didn’t have the brains to work professionally. sure, that hurt. but at the end of the day, this was what you wanted, so you continued, you pushed through all the mean words. 

you went home with a heavy heart. you were exhausted, mentally drained as well. you facetimed clay on your way home, when you were driving to tell him everything. you just needed to let it out. 

he told you to go home and relax, that you would be all good tomorrow. 

at first, you believed him, but then you felt like you weren’t feeling any better, so you decided to stream. 

“i just showered, please ignore my wet hair.” you told chat as you started your stream. 

as the hour passes, you started to feel better. clay watched your stream, donating you at times to ask you questions. 

your phone goes off, signaling someone calling you. you picked up, knowing it was clay anyways since no one else would call you at 10pm. 

“discord.” he told you and hung up. 

“wow, not even a hi. what a friend.” you told your chat while you got in discord. 

you silently went in, not greeting anyone. you had a feeling that it isn’t just clay in the call. 

“there she is.” sapnap called you out. you said hi to all of them, even george, who you knew was in the call too. he only grumbled a reply to you. 

you guessed that george streaming since sometimes he would talk to himself, not muted. sapnap told you to join the smp and play with them, to which you agreed since the night was still young anyways. 

you spawned at sapnap’s house somehow, but walked across the smp towards where the rest of them were. you heard george say something as your character walked closer to them, you were still in the discord call, anyways. 

“dream, why did she need to be here?” you heard him say.

“maybe cause i’m his best friend?” you replied, innocently. you didn’t realize that you saying this would cause a huge problem, or could potentially lead to a fight between the boys and you. 

“i’m his best friend, you butt off.” he says, somewhat using an angry tone. 

“wait, i didn’t mean to-” you tried to say but was cut off by george. 

“you’re literally so fucking annoying. i don’t understand how clay can stand you.” he almost shouted. 

you could feel the tears coming, but you tried your best to keep it in, not wanting to cry on stream, especially with your facecam on. 

“george, language.” bad told him off, trying to ease the tension. 

“no, no. i’m not going to just sit and keep quiet anymore. i don’t like her here.” george starts another sentence.

“i’ll go.” you tried to say, voice small.

“georg-” clay tries to stop him before it goes too far. 

“chat says she’s about to cry? well go cry to your mum, don’t waste your time here on the smp.” he scolds. 

fuck. that one really hurt. “george what the fuck.” you heard clay say before you silently left the smp and discord chat.

you still had your stream. you didn’t want to disappoint so you still kept your stream going, trying not to cry. 

you connected your ipad to your laptop so they could see what you were up to. you decided to draw since you didn’t feel like going on your own world in minecraft. 

“chat, i drew this of sapnap the other day cause i was bored.” you showed them, zooming in the drawing on your ipad. 

your intention was to only show chat your drawing of sapnap but you didn’t realize that you accidentally clicked off that drawing, and showed a different drawing on stream.

“oops, you weren’t suppose to see that, chat.” you told them as you clicked back from the drawing you accidentally showed them. specifically, you had shown them a drawing of george that you made. 

“calm down, chat. i draw everyone.” you tried to ease the comments that arrived to your stream. 

“i even drew dream but that’s in my private section cause you guys haven’t seen his face yet.” you told them. 

the comments were positive. some of them were telling you to post it on twitter, that the boys would appreciate it. “oh my god, chat. fine i will, i’ll post them right now.” 

you went on twitter and posted every single drawing of them, even clay’s but you picked the ones that you had drawn a mask on him. you captioned it “chat told me to do it and i couldn’t disappoint them.” 

slowly you saw that your positive chat started to turn very negative. the name calling, the degrading. people were calling you attention seeking, that you are nothing but a whore for drawing them all. 

“okay guys, i should go to bed, i have things to do in the morning.” you told them, saying goodbye, leaving the stream and turning your pc off. 

you had your twitter notifications off so that you wouldn’t be annoyed at the constant pinging but since you were already on twitter, you had known that most of the people you drew had already noticed it. they retweeted it, screenshotted it, asking for your permission to post it or use it in their profile. 

you replied to most of them, before turning your phone off to get ready for bed. 

you sat on your bed, staring at your wall opposite you. you could feel the exhaustion come over you, the tears streaming down your face. it had been a good couple of hours. 

streaming definitely did take your mind off a lot of the things from your job earlier. but somehow you felt like your day got worse. 

you didn’t blame george, nor anyone for the matter. you needed to just suck it up, that not everyone will like you and that it’s okay for someone to call you out like that. 

that didn’t mean what he said didn’t hurt. in fact, nothing hurt you more than this. the fact he reminded you about your mum. you wished you could cry to your mum. everyday. you just wanted to hug her, talk to her. you wanted nothing else than to have a couple more moments with your parents. 

you needed to be tough, as your dad told you to be. you won’t be torn down because of this. your phone rang. you already know it’s clay facetiming you. you dried your tears and quickly went to wash your face.  

“hi.” you started, smiling to him as you picked the call up. 

“you don’t have to act like you’re okay. you’re allowed to cry.” he reminds you. 

“i am okay, don’t worry.” you told him. 

“you aren’t” he starts. “he went too far, i’m sorry.” he says. 

“don’t apologize. neither of your faults. i am tired though, i’m going to bed and so should you.” you replied to him, reminding him not to remain awake for too long.

“sleep well, hopefully tomorrow won’t suck for you. i’ll sleep later. goodnight. i love you.” 

“i love you too.” you told him before you ended the call. 

you laid down on your bed, continued crying and praying that tomorrow would be better. with that, you cocooned yourself in your covers and went to bed. 

-

DREAM’S POV

“what the actual fuck, george.” i scolded the british boy as you left the smp and discord call. 

“turn off your streams, all of you.” i told them. 

i had your live put up on my other monitor, so i knew exactly what was going on and what she was doing. so far, her chat had nothing but nice things to say and now she’s showing her drawings to them. 

good. she’s good so far. she’s probably only trying to take her mind off things. 

as all the boys turned off their streams, i told them to wait before i continues saying anything. we were all still on minecraft, doing our own things. i couldn’t just sit and do nothing, i would end up being too mad and breaking things. 

“i am so fucking disappointed in you, george.” i started to say. i was truly disappointed. i knew the two of them somehow didn’t get along well but i didn’t understand why he’s such an ass about this. 

“i find her so fucking pretentious. i refuse to sit here and not say anything about it.” george told all of us. i wish i could shake him awake right now. 

“she has been nothing but nice to you, what is wrong with you?” my voice louder now. 

“clay, i fucking hate her. she’s acting nice in front of everyone. you, chat. i don’t like that.” 

“acting nice? she’s the nicest person i’ve met.” i scolded him, bad and sapnap agreeing with me. 

“then you clearly haven’t met many nice people, clay.” he told me, scoffing. 

at this, i got more angry. i didn’t want to hold back. i couldn’t anymore. although i knew she’d get mad at me for telling people this, i didn’t care. i had to tell them, tell george. he will not just step on my best friend and get away with it, not when i’m around. 

“you dickhead. you told her to cry to her mum. her mum isn’t there to be there for her, to console her, to calm her down when your bitch-ass decide to talk crap about her. her dad isn’t there to hug her, to tell her that boys like you don’t deserve her. you really fucked up this time, george. i can’t believe you.” i basically screamed at him. 

“what?” i head sapnap say. “you don’t say-” he tried to say again. 

“her parents passed away when she was eighteen. she had no one but me. even her relatives don’t give a shit about her anymore.” i told them. that felt good to say. sure, it is a private matter about you and i should respect her boundaries but i can’t listen to george talk shit about you like that and not do anything. 

“i hope you’re happy, george. you probably fucking broke her.” i told him before leaving the smp and discord call. 

before i left, i heard him. “fuck.” i knew bad and sapnap would torment him anyways. 

i called you right after that. you looked fresh and looked like you haven’t been crying but i knew better. i knew you went to the bathroom before picking up my phone call. i knew you too well. 

when she hung up on me, i went to check out her twitter. i saw my twitter notifications earlier and saw that she posted something. i knew it had to be one of the drawings. chat must’ve told her to post it. 

my heart sunk when i saw a drawing of george. you are too nice for this world. no one on this earth deserves you, not even me. the fact that you still posted him when he was the cause of your tears prior to this. 

and the fact that he has been mean to you since the start yet you still spent hours drawing him just melts me. george really needs to wake up. 

i saved the drawing you drew of me and had it up as my profile picture. it was too wholesome. you really are talented. not to mention, really smart too. you were incredibly forgiving, it wouldn’t shock me to hear that you’re not even mad at george for being so rude to you. 

-

YOUR POV

i heard a knock on my door as i was finishing reading a book. i went to the front door not really expecting it to be anyone. maybe it’s clay, since he comes to your house often and never told you earlier. not that you mind, anyways. 

you were shocked, to say the least, to see a slightly shorter than clay, boy standing in front of you. that isn’t the shocking part. it is the fact that you are well aware of the man standing in front of you. 

george. and for some reason, he was holding flowers.

when you opened the door, he smiled sheepishly at you. you just stared at him, waiting for him to say something before you decide to. 

nothing. he says nothing. “is this about the things you called me? i totally get why you said what you did and i don’t blame you.” you said first, since it didn’t seem like he would. 

“how am i not one to blame when i was so incredibly rude to you, not even getting to know you first.” he finally opens up. 

“did clay ask you to come?” you asked him. he shook his head. 

“i offered, actually.” he started. 

“i couldn’t just sit around and not try to apologize. i’m so sorry for turning a blind eye and calling you such things. i didn’t mean any of it.” he says.

before you try to say something, he cuts you off. “and i know you’re going to stand there and tell me i did nothing wrong, that i have nothing to apologize about but that’s not true.” he says. 

you smiled. were you that predictable. you knew he had a couple more things to say, hence you kept your mouth shut and told him to continue, and that you wouldn’t cut in this time. 

besides, him apologizing with bouquet of flowers in his hands is just too adorable for you. so you decide that you should enjoy this. 

“clay told me how much of an idiot i am for talking about your mum. i didn’t mean anything i said, i swear.” he starts again. 

“i just- it seems like you and clay are so close and it made me feel so alone, like i barely stood a chance with you in the first place. and that thought alone made me feel enraged. i know that doesn’t count as an excuse, nothing can count as an excuse bu-” you cut him off by pulling him by behind his neck to kiss him. 

the kiss was short, but sweet. it was for two reasons, one, to shut him up, for him to stop rambling, and two, for him to realize that you liked him just as much. 

as you pulled away from the short kiss, he was already looking at you with a glint in his eyes, as if he was looking at the last piece of donut in a coffee shop.

he showed you a grin, a grin like none other. it showed you how much he did actually like you. 

it’s safe to say he only spent the rest of his stay at your house, or in your company. even clay couldn’t steal him from you. 

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

never isn’t an option - pt. 2

summary: you’re tired of hiding how you feel from Matthew, so you risk everything for chance at happiness.

warnings: none really, angst 

word count: 4.7k

note from the writer: here it is! this is the last part, and I'm super proud of how this whole thing turned out. make sure to take this survey to help me decide what to work on next!

read part one here

Three weeks. It had been three, miserable, weeks since you last saw Matt. It felt like an eternity, and you weren’t sure how you had managed to go so long without seeing him. He was your best friend, and he had made every attempt to reach out to you since then. Texts, snapchats, and even a phone call late one night. It was killing you to be so distant from him.

“So what’d you do to Chucky?”

Rasmus asked the question between shoveling fries in his mouth. He had practically dragged you out of your apartment, taking you to the hole-in-the wall diner down the street and ordering some very non-nutritionist approved food before you could get a word in. If it was under any other circumstances, you would have rolled your eyes at his lack of table manners. Instead, you shrugged your shoulders lamely and pushed your own fries around your plate.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hummed quietly. He wasn’t talking about your failed attempt at confessing your feelings, you were sure of it, because you had gone over that with him at least four times since the incident.

“At first, he was moping because of the thing,” he started, and you were glad it didn’t outright announce what the thing was. Avoiding his gaze, he continued. “And then like a week ago he just got worse. He’s always in a mood now, and you can’t tell me you haven’t seen how sloppy he’s been on the ice.”

“I haven’t been watching the games.” The confession tumbled past your lips before you could stop them, and Rasmus gave you a pointed look. You rarely missed a game, even before you met Matt and fell in love and had your heart broken. “But I’ve been keeping track of scores, at least.”

“My point is, something must have happened to make things worse and I want to know what it is.” He continued before the conversation was completely derailed. You might have been hurting, but that didn’t stop you from caring for Matt unconditionally, so you thought for a minute about what had happened. If you were willing to be honest with yourself, you probably weren’t the most reliable source of information on Matt’s life anymore. It hurt, but you had been removed from him for three weeks. All except for—

“He called me a week and a half ago, late at night.” You offered, trying not to think about if you still were able to affect him so much. Sure, you were his best friend, but you ruined everything with the impulsive decision to confess your feelings.

“Well, what’d you talk about?” Rasmus asked as if the question was obvious. You shrugged, looking back down at your plate. He nudged you with his foot under the table, and you sighed while reluctantly meeting his concerned gaze.

“Nothing really, I told him I was on a date and—”

“You were what?” He interrupted, a little too loudly for the quiet diner but he completely missed the disgruntled look from the middle aged woman behind the counter as he waited for you to explain yourself expectantly. You groaned, dropping your head into your hands and propping your elbows up on the table. “Who were you on a date with? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d freak out like this!” You exclaimed, waving a hand dramatically in his direction. “And it was with one of my friend’s coworkers, she made me go to try and get over Matt.”

“And you told him you were with another guy?” Rasmus asked dumbfoundedly and you nodded bashfully. He sighed, shaking his head at you and you felt as if you were in the principal's office after getting caught doing something you shouldn’t. But you were an adult, you could go out with anyone you wanted. “Wait, if Matt called you late, what were you still doing on a date?”

“Because,” you hesitated, flushing at having to confess what you were next to him. “I went back to his place to, you know, but then Matt called and I bailed right after.” Despite the situation, Rasmus laughed loudly, leaning back in his booth and you wondered where he found humor in the situation.

“So you didn’t even sleep with the guy?” He asked, grin on his face as you nodded sheepishly. You had been fully prepared to, having convinced yourself that not-quite rebound sex was a good idea, but you changed your mind upon hearing Matt’s voice. “Man, you’re so in love with him.”

“Shut up.” You groaned, no heat in your voice. “It doesn’t matter anyways, he doesn’t feel the same and I’m probably never going to see him again, so.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his plus one to the charity event tomorrow?” The question had the blood draining from your face—you had completely forgotten. It was always assumed that you were Matt’s plus one to Flames events, and you’ve had the charity gala marked on your calendar for over a month.

“I doubt he wants to see me.” You tried to reason, but Rasmus shook his head. He grabbed your phone, and all you could do was watch as he unlocked it and opened your texts.

“That’s definitely not true, like, at all.” He teased, typing out a message for you. You practically jumped out of your seat once you realized just who he was sending a text to, but by the time you reached his side of the booth the message was sent and your fate was sealed.

“Did you really just text Matt—”

“Oh look, he’s already responded.” Rasmus sounded far too pleased with himself for your liking, but you ignored him entirely as you snatched your phone back that he had been dangling in your face. You read Rasmus’ text to Matt first, biting your lip in nerves. ‘You still want me to go to the charity thing with you, right?’ Matt’s response was simple, and came in near record time, but you forced yourself not to think too much into his ‘of course I do’ because you knew that was exactly how you’d break your heart all over again.

You glanced up from your phone and met Rasmus’ smug grin, smile toying with the corners of your lips no matter how badly you wanted to frown at him. His simple sentence was enough to set off a parade of butterflies inside you, but you forced yourself to remember that he didn’t feel the same.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Time seemed to pass before your eyes, because before you got the chance to properly breathe and process what exactly entailed a night of being Matthew’s plus one while avoiding thinking about your unreciprocated feelings, he was knocking at your apartment door to pick you up.

You counted to three before opening, both to ground yourself and make it seem as if you hadn't been anxiously waiting for him. Even still, you weren’t ready for how breathtakingly handsome he looked. He was dressed in your favorite suit of his—you were certain he knew it was your favorite, you made a point to tell him that each time he wore it for games—and his hair was put together in a way that seemed effortless.

“Hi.” You breathed quietly, having to be the first to break the silence. He was still taking you in, his gaze raking up and down your figure in the outfit you had picked out weeks before. Like nothing changed, you felt a shiver run down your spine under his gaze.

“You look, wow.” He spoke, a reverence to his voice that had your heart beating faster. You knew being his plus one would be a challenge, but he was making it incredibly hard for you to focus on being just friends with him while he looked at you like that.

“You clean up nice yourself, Mr. Tkachuk.” You told him, the teasing a ghost of your past relationship with him you hoped would transfer to your new role as someone that he rejected. He chuckled, and you decided that maybe things wouldn’t have to change as much as you thought they would.

“Anything for you.” He hummed, and then like he hadn’t said that, he offered you his hand. You took it on instinct, slipping your hand in his and allowing him to pull you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Matt had ordered a car for the night, the same as he always did, and you smiled politely as he opened the door for you.

Even when you were both in the back of the car together, he slipped his hand back in yours, moving it into his lap so he could play with your fingers. You watched him carefully, wondering if he knew how much of an effect he had on you and he was doing it on purpose or if he was trying to make your friendship as normal as possible. You weren’t sure which one you preferred more.

You also wondered how long you’d be able to keep this up. How long you’d be able to stand by his side and pretend that you were perfectly fine with being nothing more than Matt’s friend. You were certain that if you had to sit by one more time and watch him flirt with someone else you’d be physically sick.

Small talk was made to fill the silence, but beneath that you could feel that there was something unsaid, something holding Matt back from being fully present with you. It hurt you to think that maybe that something holding him back was you and what you had said, but you knew you couldn’t have gone on much longer just pining away.

You just wished that Rasmus had been right about how Matt felt.

It didn’t take long for you to run into the other guys once in the venue for the charity gala, especially not with Matt leading you around with his hand dangerously low on the small of your back. You pretended to ignore the smug look Rasmus sent you as you greeted David with a hug, and after pleasantries were exchanged you found yourself tucked back into Matt’s side. You were chatting with one of the guys’ dates—you couldn’t remember who she came with, considering Matt’s touch was dizzying—when she asked you the one question you had been hoping to avoid all night.

“So are you guys together?”

She meant no harm by it, and you couldn’t blame her for asking, considering the fact that Matt had barely let you out of arm's reach since you arrived, but your smile still fell from your face. You saw recognition cross her face, knowing she must have realized that her assumption was incorrect, and you schooled your features into a polite and totally fake smile as she started sputtering out apologies.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You assured her, but she still looked horrified. You sympathized, you remembered how terrifying it was to first meet all the guys’ significant others for the first time—even though you were not one of the guys’ significant others, if the past few weeks taught you anything.

Her date came then to rescue her, Sam grinning at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You made a mental note to grill him about the new girl he was seeing and didn’t tell you about, but suddenly it was just you and Matt left standing by the bar. You turned to face him, only to find he was already watching you with a look that was a little too close to admiration for your liking.

“Have I told you how good you look?” He murmured, one hand falling to your hip as if he couldn’t help himself. You wanted to be mad. You wanted to scold him for toying with you despite knowing your feelings. But you couldn’t. Instead, you welcomed his touch and gave him a bright smile only he ever seemed to be able to drag out of you.

“Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.” You mused playfully, distantly wondering just when it became so easy to talk to some that knew your feelings and didn’t reciprocate them. Matt chuckled at your comment, the sound lifting your heart momentarily.

“I’ll tell you that for the rest of my life.”

And that… felt way too much like something that it clearly wasn’t. Too much like a promise of forever that he couldn’t give you. That he wasn’t willing to give you.

Your smile faltered then, and Matt must have seen it because his did too and suddenly you were both looking at each with looks too somber for the mood of the gala going on around you. You hated it for a multitude of reasons, but the one that struck you the most was that no matter how normal things seemed, you being his plus one and hanging out with his teammates, things would never truly be normal. Your confession ruined things permanently with him, and you’d have to suffer the consequences.

Matt opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but someone in an official looking suit approached and stole Matt’s attention from you. Even after the man said he needed to talk business with Matt, it took a second for him to look away from you, like it pained him to take his gaze off of you.

“Can we talk for a minute, Mr. Tkachuk?” The man asked, though you knew before he said anything he’d be pulling Matt away from you. Matt nodded politely, knowing he’d have to leave and go charm the rich guys. It was a charity gala, after all.

Before he left, though, he turned to you once more and bent down so he was level with your ear, lips brushing against your skin at his proximity and you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was quickly replaced with an ache in your chest, knowing that no matter how much you wanted to kiss him, it simply wasn’t in the card for you.

“Nate’s a lucky guy.” He whispered, breath blowing against your ear and you had to actively force yourself to not shut your eyes. He pulled back almost immediately, a grin much sadder than his previous business smile having found a home on his handsome face. He left you, then, confused about what he meant.

It took a moment, but you realized that he was talking about Nick, the guy you had gone on one date with. You rolled your eyes, knowing he mixed up the names on purpose—he did the same with your ex boyfriend, the one you had been dating when you became friends with the Flames. Matt made a point to call him by a different variation of his name each time, and by the end of the relationship, Kyle and somehow managed to change to Liam.

Before, you had held onto the hope that he did it because he was jealous. Now there wasn’t an excuse for his behavior. You doubted that he forgot, but at this point it made more sense to you than jealousy being the cause.

You weren’t alone long before Johnny joined you, leaning against the bar with a look you had seen several times before. Usually, though, it wasn’t directed at you.

“You went on date with someone?” He bypassed pleasantries, and you weren’t surprised, given the exasperated look on his face.

“Who told you, Rasmus or Matt?” You sighed, smiling politely at the bartender who placed in front of you the drink you had ordered soon after Matt left.

“Rasmus did. Matt hasn’t talked about you since he told me he loved you.” He sounded so sure of his words, like it was a fact such as the sky was blue and grass was green and Matthew loved you. But it wasn’t that simple, and you set the glass in your hand down on the counter, suddenly losing your desire for it.

“That’s… no, Johnny. He doesn’t.” You shook your head, focusing on everything, anything, but Johnny.

“He does, and so do you, so just talk to each other.” He sounded tired, and you wondered if he’d given this speech before. You wondered if he gave this speech to Matt, because you surely weren’t the only one in this situation that needed to be lectured. But then again, you knew firsthand how stubborn Matt could be.

“Look, he made it very clear that he didn’t feel the same. So I’m going to just be his friend, and that’s fine.” It certainly wasn’t fine, but you weren’t about to tell Johnny that. Not when you wanted nothing more than the conversation to be over.

“You two are ridiculous.” Johnny huffed, but then it was his turn to be swept off to sweet talk donors, and you gave him a tight smile as he left.

When Matt found you again later than evening, you were in a considerably worse mood than when he left. You were tired of hearing about how he loved you when just only three weeks prior you had left his apartment broken hearted. You weren’t mad at Johnny, you were certain you could never be mad at him, but the entire situation had you annoyed. Not even a light conversation with the wives and girlfriends of other players could fix your sour mood, so you barely paid Matt any attention when he slipped into the free seat next to you at one of the many tables set up in the ballroom.

Your phone was sitting innocently on top of the table, having been discarded there the moment you sat down and engaged Brodie’s wife in conversation. It buzzed halfway through an anecdote about the last roadie, and you picked it up to see you had a text.

“Is that from Nash?” Matt whispered in your ear, voice quiet so no one else at the table could hear. You shot him a pointed look, knowing who he was referring to. He misinterpreted your silence as a question, and you watched as a slight pout found its way onto his face. “That guy you went on a date with.”

“That’s Nick, and this is my mom.” You held up your phone, flashing him the screen so he saw that the name at the top of the conversation was not Nick or Nate or Nash or any other guy. “So try again, Matthew.”

“Wait, are you mad at me?” For a second, you could have sworn you saw a happy look in his eyes. It left as soon as he realized you called him by his full name and not any of the nicknames he was so accustomed to.

“I’m not talking about this here.” You whispered harshly, turning back to the table with the full intention of listening to whichever of the wives had taken over storytelling duty. You knew you were being short with Matt, but your conversation with Johnny had left a sour taste on your tongue and a heavy weight in your chest.

“Fine.” Matt replied, and you stupidly thought that would be the end of the discussion until the end of the night. But you should have known better, should have known Matthew better, because suddenly he was taking a hold of your hand and pulling you up and out of your chair.

“Matt, what—” You started, but he wasn’t even looking at you. He was facing the table of concerned wives and girlfriends, all of them trying to figure out what was going on between you and Matt. All of them except for Johnny’s girlfriend, who was grinning like the cat that got the canary.

“We’re heading out, tell the boys I left.” He told them, and you barely got the chance to say goodbye before Matt was leading you out of the venue, handing out excuses over his shoulder to men in suits you knew for a fact he was supposed to be stopping and talking to. One man jumped in front of Matt to stop him, and Matt stopped so abruptly you nearly crashed into him.

“Matthew, do you have a minute to talk about your point predictions this season?” The man asked as a mere formality. If his appearance told you anything, it was that he was one of the rich donors Matt was supposed to charm for the evening.

“I can’t, sir, my girlfriend isn’t feeling well and I’ve got to take her home.” Matt lied easily, though it didn’t seem much like a lie with the way your face paled at the fake title he gave you in order to get out of the situation. It wasn’t the first time he’d pretended to be your boyfriend, he’d done it a dozen and one times while out at bars and clubs to get random guys to stop talking to you. But it carried a different weight now, now that he knew how you felt and now that you had been rejected by him.

“Ah, well, you better get her home.” The man said, but you barely registered it. Your stomach was in knots and your lips were pursed into a tight line, and even in the car on the way back to your apartment you didn’t say a word. Matt kept his hand in yours, though, and you were certain that the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment was his thumb brushing comfortingly over the back of your hand.

You led the way into your apartment and left Matthew to shut the door as you changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a baggy sweatshirt you were certain was probably his. He had already made himself comfortable on your couch, his suit jacket tossed over the back of your arm chair. He had loosened his tie and it was clear that he had been running his hands through his hair, and he looked entirely like the boyfriend you wanted but couldn't have.

You waited for him to speak first, making a point to scroll through your phone instead of meeting his gaze that fell heavy on you. If he was going to drag you out of the gala, then he was going to have to explain why. He cleared his throat after minute five of nothing but tense silence in your living room.

“Rasmus told me that you bailed on your date after I called.”

Of course he did, you thought, making a mental note to lecture the defenseman about keeping secrets the next time you saw him. You didn’t look at Matt as you nodded, but you did turn off your phone and drop it into your lap.

“Good, that’s—yeah, good.” He nodded to himself, and something inside you snapped. Your brows tugged together like you were trying to solve something complex and annoyance bubbled up in your chest.

“I tell you how I feel and you let me down, so I move on.” You started, voice firm despite the fact you felt your resolve breaking down. You had assumed that you’d go on to live the rest of your life never addressing what happened at Matthew’s, but now you were bringing it all back up. “I go on a blind date and you get annoyed. If we can’t be friends anymore then just tell me because I can—”

“I love you.” Matt interrupted, rushing to assure you that not having you in his life was something he absolutely did not want.

“I—what?” You stopped, feeling your heart stop and blood freeze. That was the exact last thing you expected to hear him say, and who could really blame you, considering the way things ended the last time you talked about your feelings with him. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” He hurried to correct you. Your look of confusion only deepened, a frown etched into your face as you tried to figure out what angle Matt was working. He shifted from his spot on the opposite end of your couch to directly beside you. “Johnny knocked some sense into me the other day.”

“What day?” You asked slowly and quietly. You knew Matt would never do anything to hurt you and pretending to love you the way you loved him would certainly count as hurting you, but the instant trust wasn’t there. You were protecting yourself, slowly opening up instead of immediately jumping into his arms.

“Twenty minutes before I called you when you were on your date with Noah.”

“Nate.” You corrected, sounding a little too winded for having just been sitting on the couch. But Matt had an effect on you and you were certain he always would.

“Nick, but nice try.” Matt smirked and it was then that you realized you had screwed up your own date’s name. You didn’t care in the slightest about Noah or Nate or Nash or whoever he was, because Matt was sitting before you and Matt was offering you his heart.

“You really love me?” You asked, teetering on the edge of giving into Matt. You saw something akin to heartbreak flash in his eyes, a result of you even questioning his love. He nodded, then, slowly and calmly and you were certain that was the only time you had even seen Matt do something slowly and calmly. “Then do something about it, please.”

He wasted no time then in connecting his lips to yours in a kiss so long awaited the entire world slipped away in an instant. Before, Matt was overt in his affection, kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead and hands and shoulders—anywhere but your lips. You’d always had an idea of what Matt’s lips on yours would feel like, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of being kissed so soundly by the love of your life—of being kissed by Matt.

It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes, but you felt breathless by the time Matt pulled back. He was grinning from ear to ear, a look you were certain was mirrored on your face. No words were shared, at first, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face in an act so tender and so intimate you felt yourself falling for him all over again.

“Was that good enough?” Matt teased, and despite that fact that you rolled your eyes you chased after his lips for another kiss. He hummed in content against you, which elicited a giggle from you and soon you were both in a fit of laughter on your couch for no good reason other than the fact that you were two idiots in love.

“So Johnny talked to you, huh?” You questioned, catching your breath. Matt rolled his eyes, clearly remembering how Johnny told him to get his shit together. He replied with a nod, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

“Told me that I loved you, made me realize I’m an idiot.” He explained, a lightness in his voice as he admired you openly. You had his undivided attention, a fact that made your heart soar.

“You kinda were an idiot.” You teased, earning no argument and a laugh from him. You couldn’t help yourself, then, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. He didn’t let you retreat far, chasing after your lips for a series of short and sweet kisses. Finally, after what could have been an eternity later, you parted and dropped your head against his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I let you walk away.” He told you sadly, his tone serious and sentence punctuated by kisses pressed to the top of your head. His somber mood should have transferred to you, but you were riding the high of being loved by him so wholly you felt it to the tips of your toes.

“As long as you never do it again.” You told him. You were smiling, certain that you wouldn't be able to stop smiling for the next few weeks. And, slowly, the expression was mirrored on Matt’s face and nothing but honesty flooded his crystal blue eyes as he spoke next.

“Never.”

Never, for Matthew, was the only option.

[catt-nuevenor]

I don't know if you're okay with this kinds of asks (please ignore this if you're uncomfortable with it) but... If the ro and mc are having 'fun' In bed when suddenly their kid comes in/almost comes in, how do they react? What kinds of excuse would they say?🤣

As previously stated, I'm trying to steer clear of cringe humour with this react, and instead going more into healthy responses to such an awkward encounter.

Hope you all enjoy!

I HIGHLY recommend you head over to the reacts page to read this. There you can enter your own names and pronouns for the characters.

Reacts Page

P

P swept the blanket up and over MC in a single motion, the fabric falling with an uncanny perfection across their otherwise naked body. Searching through the folds of bedding and discarded clothing, P found their hand and held it comfortingly as they propped herself up and smiled at their partner's child.

"Hi CH." They smiled, doing their best to keep the queasy shame out of their voice. It wasn't anything to feel ashamed of really, but instinct drove a heated blush up from the base of their neck.

The little child was quiet, looking between their ren and P in a stilted silence.

MC turned about in the bed, facing their child. "Are you alright CH?" They asked gently.

CH frowned. Not in an angry way, they didn't seem sad or hurt either, just puzzled. "What are you doing?"

P felt their lover's entire body tense in the span of a heartbeat.

"We..." MC looked up at their with the devotion of utter desperation.

"We were making love CH."

CH's frown got deeper, whilst their ren paled.

"What's does-" The child began, only to be interrupted by a voice from the corridor behind them.

"CH? Could you come and help us with breakfast please?"

P let out a subtle sigh, the expression, along with their relief, shared equally by their lover. After reassurances from them both, CH turned and scampered out of the room, almost forgetting to close the door behind them.

"I could just about kiss that woman right now." P chuckled, deflating bodily, resting their forehead against the warm sanctuary of MC's shoulder.

"Do you think A realised?" They mused, playing with a curly lock of their partner's hair, while their other hand was still entwined with P's.

The woman huffed. "Probably. Even more reason to sing their praises later."

MC laughed, and P lightly pressed the tip of their nose to the sound. "I'm not sure they'd really appreciate a serenade, or a kiss for that matter."

Propping herself back up on their elbows P smirked. "Really? I have it on good authority that I'm a pretty good kisser. Or are you just trying to keep me all to yourself?"

They'd find CH later, sit them down, and no matter how much it might make them both squirm, they'd answer all their questions as honestly, and sensitively as they could. P would also go find A and let their off of washing duty for the next two months.

But that was all for later. In that moment P and MC had far more present matters on their minds.

L

L felt a little bit sick. What the hell had they done?!

Why hadn't they remembered to lock the damn door? It was automatic most nights. Tuck CH in, retreat back to their private room, get utterly engrossed in MC, and before anything else, lock the door.

They hadn't noticed at first. They was too busy with 'other matters' to notice the slow creak of the door's hinge, or the small voice that asked for their ren. MC had. They'd noticed right away.

With a mortified groan, L pulled their knees up to their chest, tucking their head into the cradle of their crossed arms. Great, just great. One stupid mistake and not only had they likely traumatised a small child, but they'd more than likely ruined their relationship with MC.

Their soon to be ex-lover was with their child, trying to find a way to explain what it was they saw, and settle them back to sleep. How the hell they planned to do that L didn't have the foggiest. And what was L doing? Hiding like a coward.

This time, when the door's hinges gave their low creak L heard them, but they didn't look up. They couldn't bear to see MC's disappointment.

The bed dipped slightly as they sat down, and L automatically shuffled aside to make a bit more room. Then, a thick silence descended, burying their shame beneath renewed guilt.

"Are you alright L?" MC asked gently, startling the young fisher.

They looked up, eyes wide, jaw slack, thinking they must have misheard. "What?"

With a compassionate smile, MC reached out and took L's hand. "I said, are you alright?"

"I- You-" They spluttered, treading between confusion and annoyance as their eyes flickered between their partner and the door. "But, CH-"

"Is fine L." MC said, stroking their thumb across L's knuckles. "A little confused, but mostly worried that they upset you."

"What!?"

MC leant in close and kissed the gaping woman's cheek. "Remember it is still the middle of the night love. You don't want to wake the others do you?"

"No. But-" L dropped their indignation to a whisper. "What about CH? How can they just be fine with it?"

MC shifted further onto the bed, tucking their bare feet back under the rumpled blankets, gesturing for L to lay down beside them once they'd settled.

"Children understand more than you think." They explained, pulling the blankets up over them once L had joined them. "I told them the truth, that we were showing each other how much we loved each other in the way adults in a relationship do. That it was a natural part of some but not all grownup relationships, and that it wasn't anything to be ashamed of or worried about."

"And they just accepted all that?"

MC nodded. "They'll probably have a lot of questions in the morning, but I'll take some time to sit with them and go through anything that worries them."

"I-" L struggled to find their way back from the crippling embarrassment of moments ago, and back to some sense of logic. They should be a part of this somehow. The realisation almost threw their straight back into full scale panic, but they did their best to keep calm.

CH thought they'd upset their, while they still feared they'd upset them. The most straightforward way to reassure them both was to talk it through. Maybe...

At least they'd both have MC's support, no matter how awkward the conversation went.

When L asked to help, MC kissed their so sweetly they felt some of the anxiety melt away at once. The rest would likely sit there till the talk tomorrow. For now though there was comfort, warmth, and the familiar tangle of limbs to enjoy as they let their dreams sweep them away into sleep.

A

"Ready for this?" A asked, squeezing MC's hand tightly for a few moments when they saw the panic in their eyes.

With a dry gulp MC shook their head. "Not really." They glanced at the open door, no doubt wondering whether there was still time to make a run for it before their child arrived.

A patted their knee, smiling warmly when they turned their nervous gaze to their.

"I guess I just wasn't expecting to have to have... this conversation, not yet anyway."

The Cunningwoman gave a sympathetic nod. "No, I imagine not."

It wasn't really anyone's fault. Just a poor sense of timing, and forgetfulness. It was lucky CH didn't come in a minute or two earlier, who knew what they would have thought upon seeing that particular part of their love making. It was all unfortunate but none of them could go back and change the past. It simply was what it was.

A took in a calming breath, letting the morning air flow in and fill their lungs, before letting it go once more. It had to be done. If they simply let the matter lie CH would more than likely build up their own theories on what they had seen. Would they think they were fighting? That A was in someway hurting MC? Or worse would they think that sex was something expected of them at their age?

The idea made A's skin squirm, and their insides writhe. No. They would tell CH what they were doing plainly, without oversimplification, or gratuitous detail. They'd explain that it should be an action of sincere and mutual trust, that no one should ever take what was not freely given, and that it was a complexity of grown up relationships, and that when the time was right, and they met someone they cared for and trusted, and that both they and their partner wanted to take their relationship to that level of physical intimacy, only then would they need to consider sex.

MC chuckled quietly beside their, attempting to muffle the sound behind their palm.

"What is it?" A asked with an amused smile of their own.

"You have that look about you." MC explained, placing a fingertip on the fold of a slight frown that sat between their dark brows. "The same one you get when Erda gives you a difficult customer to manage."

A laughed. "I'm sure CH will be much better behaved than that."

Their lover shrugged. "I don't know. How many seven year olds have you dealt with?" The soul smirked as a lick of confusion danced across their partners expression. "Any question you hope they don't ask, you can guarantee they will."

A flutter of nerves tickled at the base of A's throat, though they did their best to remain outwardly calm. "Well, it's a good thing I have a practiced hand with me, isn't it?" They said, laying a soft kiss against MC's jaw, revelling in the sigh it drew from them.

There was a light tap of a tiny hand upon the door. A drew herself back, settling as naturally as they could beside MC, still holding their hand as they called out to their child.

K

"I don't understand why you hid it from them this long." K said, resting their weight back upon one hip, pivoting slightly to keep MC in sight as they fussed around their room.

"Because a little child shouldn't have to worry about things like that." They snapped, frustration and shame making their temper brittle.

K watched quietly as they slumped onto the bed, their head resting in their hands. They didn't understand the burden their efenhlytta struggled beneath. Making love was natural, every creature upon the earth or in the waters procreated in some form, yet it was only people that put such pressures on the act. Made guilt when there was no logical reason to be any.

Cautiously they sat beside their lover, and despite the ease with which they might do so, they made no move to touch them. "What will you tell them?" K asked, keeping their words, and their voice, calm and gentle.

Of course they expected them to bristle, or snap out a response born of frustration once more, and they was shocked when instead MC slumped further into the bed.

"I don't know." They said on a fragile whisper. "I don't know what I'm going to tell them."

"I didn't realise this would upset you to this degree." K said, after a brief but pointed silence had settled between them unbroken for many minutes. "Would you like me to talk to CH."

The child's ren looked up from the cradle formed of their fingers, considering their with something close to curiosity, though the finer detail of what it was that curiosity was focused upon seemed lost to them both.

"You'd do that?" MC asked, clearly not ready to believe K's answer before they'd even had chance to reply.

The strange woman nodded. "Of course, if you want me to."

They let their mind linger a while on the offer, the ease at which they might pass on the burden of the conversation they had no desire to have. But deep down they knew they could never accept.

It wouldn't do CH any good. They needed to be comfortable when they discussed what had to be discussed, and while they both got along far better than they used to, K's presence still unsettled their child.

"No." MC sighed, though they made effort to smile through the exhale. "Thank you though. If-"

They hesitated.

"If you would... be there with me? When I talk to CH."

With lithe fingers, K caught MC's chin and delicately tilted their head about so that their eyes might meet. "For you my efenhlytta, I would stand before the greatest of challenges, no matter how dire."

K kiss demanded all the attention MC's worries might steal away for themselves. When they pushed them back into the sheets, they could not help the muffled gasp.

"Shall we finish our own conversation?" K murmured into the delightful warmth of their efenhlytta's neck, kissing where their quickened pulse fluttered visibly beneath their skin.

"What- what conversation is that?" MC breathed, their breath hitching as K nipped ever so lightly at their prize.

The strange one smiled. "The conversation your child interrupted earlier, of course."

[lovee-infected]

For the anon talking about how they hate how over exaggerated a character is. I am not trying to start hate or anything, but if you don't like the way how someone portrays the character, just stop reading it. Some people don't delve deep, they just want to write fanfics for fun they're not going to make sure it's 100% the characters VERY complex personalities. Or the way how they view a character is different from their beliefs. I've gotten this message before and I am TIRED of it

I think it's a good time to talk about this because I've been thinking about bringing the topic up for a while. To begin with, let's clear something between the two anons because I think it's a misunderstanding:

Note: Please read this, this is important.

Anon A is saying that they're sometimes bothered by how some fanfics and Aus have a different way of picturing character X, in other words, they don't really enjoy it when a character is bring mischaracterized

Anon B (this anon) is saying that if you're bothered by a fic because you don't like how they're characterizing an specific character, then you don't have to read it.

Let me say that both of these anons are right, yet to think that their ideas are the opposites of each other, is totally wrong. In other words they both have a point, but I guess their points needs a stronger a better way of being explained in order to avoid any further dramas and misunderstandings.

Why am I doing this? Because I've seen -enough- of it. After the twst character analyses, aruges toward the mischaracterizations in this fandom became a thing, it's been causing some issues and arguments between the fans and it's mainly because of how sides fails to explain their points clearly.

Though I didn't really receive any rude asks/comments regarding myself the matter I can still how some fans feel attacked, offended or called out by character analysis posts or have the NERVE to attack or offend others with their own perspective on characters and try to force others into accepting them.

Enough with drama, I'm sick of it. I'm going to explain this as clearly as I can, hopeful that this would at least lessen the chance of having to go through another drama regarding the mischaracterization issue.

1) The concept of FANfiction

First off, the fanfiction itself; what is a fanfiction? What type of writing is considered to be a fanfic? What is it even used for? These are the questions we all need to answer before getting to know the world of fanfic.

Just as its name explains, it's fan + fiction. It's the result of the fan's creativity and imagination taking place in a fictional plot, something that hasn't happened with the original characters and he original story. The fans' imagination is often far beyond the plot which the original story/series/book offers, yet this isn't going to hold fans back from imagining it. Fanfiction is the way of giving yourself (or others) the specific and plot with the original and canon version isn't going to give you, in other words it's a way of getting what you wish to see through a story but this time, it's you who'd decide what will happen.

You are the one who decides how characters will be, you are the one who decides how and where this story happens and you are the one to choose how this story must come to an end. It's all about your own imagination and creativity, which enables you to have power over everything about your own story and fanfiction, everything (In expection gor than legal issues including claiming the original character as yours). You have the power, and you choose how it should be.

2) Fanfiction and mischaracterization

This was mainly the most brought up issue in the recent Twst drama, mischaracterization through writings. Many were saying how they find this annoying and nerve-wrecking, but no one really talked about how mischaracterization comes to life.

Let me tell you, as long your writing is a fanfic, there is a 70% chance of mischaracterizing the plot or the characters and there's nothing wrong with it, that's just how fanfiction works! It isn't supposed to be canon, it is fanon and only fanon. Everything that happens is fictional and fanon based, in other words, it's the fan who decides what should happen in a fanfiction and how it's supposed to be!

One of the Fanfiction's best purposes is giving the fandom a chance to mischaracterize! To write the characters the way they wish them to be and not necessarily the way they truly are. Fanfiction allows us to imagine and create something that isn't true, so let me clear my point here: It's totally okay to change the characters' personalities in your fanfics! As the writer, you have the right to do so, and since writing a fanfic must be for your own pleasure in the first place, no one can stop you from imagining whatever you want! No one can jump out and say stuff like "YOU CAN'T MISCHARACERTIZE A CHARACTER IN A FANFICTION" because that'd be super lame. It's your own fanfiction, your story, your creation and you're free to mischaracterize if that's how you like it to be! And if anyone doesn't like that, remember that they don't have to read that.

3)What is the problem?

Look, we've been going through some drama because of the recent character analyses of twst fandom, and I'd like to explain why. First off, note that I think both sides of the argument have been wrong and I'm going to talk about both of them.

Let me begin with a small example: It's been argued that based to what we've seen from Leona's personality so far, he doesn't seem to be the type to love healthily or even easily fall for anyone. Some of the fans seemed to be offended by the statement and said that "They still want their Leona fluff no matter what everyone else says" okay okay, this is the problem I was talking about: Saying that canon Leona doesn't seem to be much of a fluffy lion or a sweet lover isn't equal to forbidding the fans from writing fluffs for him or picturing him as a adorable and gentle lover! No one has the right to hold fans back from appreciating and enjoying what they like! But it's important to know what exactly is happening.

I'll talk about some crucial points you need to know about character analyses and how it's different from a fanfic in part (4), but before that, let me continue to give some examples of the recent argues and how each of the sides were wrong.

A) You enjoy reading fluffy Malleus content but character analyses have been saying that he isn't as soft and cute as you'd expected him to be. Does this mean that you can no longer ask for wholesome Malleus content or enjoy reading them? -> Of course not! You're still free to read/imagine/write whatever you like with Malleus! No one has the right to tell you what to do, and character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold you back from enjoying what you like! If you're enjoying something, go for it! In this fanon world no one can accuse you for not following the canon interpretations!

B) You've spent a rather long time getting to know Ace and his canon personality, and you really like the way he is! But by reading fanfics/ fandom's interpretations on him you can't help but to feel like they aren't giving his personality the justice he deserves, and aren't seeing the great and amazing character he truly is. Is it okay to feel upset about this? -> Just as I said, it's totally fine to have your personal interpretations of a character no matter how different the rest of the interpretations are! But the real question is: what should you do when you think fandom isn't doing a character justice? This would be answered in part D!

C) You are enjoying your personal ideas and headcanons with Idia and many are saying that your way of picturing him is so adorable! Does this necessarily mean that the canon Idia as well is like you describe him? -> Absolutely not! No matter how adorable an Au/headcanon is, everyone's free to enjoy it but you should remember that canon ≠ fanon. You are totally free to imagine whatever you'd like! But keep this in mind that you shouldn't insist on your ideas being necessarily canon!

D) You feel like many are mischaracterizing your favorite character and you don't like it, what should you do? -> Well to begin with, remember that other fans have the right to characterize a character just as much as you do! You can't stop them from doing what they like or expect them to change the way they are because of how different the canon interpretation of a character might be. But you as well have a great chance to inspire the fandom by your own ideas! You can try to discuss how different the canon personality of your favorite character is and even try to turn that into a character analysis! This way you'd not only avoid causing any drama because of disagreeing with someone's way of picturing your favorite character, but you will also have a chance to present your personal ideas and characterizations to the fandom in a friendly and polite way!

E) You don't like how an author is characterizing some of the boys, what should you do? -> Easy solution, don't read it. Let me tell you, I have gone through this a lot and do you know what I do whenever I read/see something that doesn't match my tastes and expectations? I keep scrolling! That's all, I don't have to like it, but I don't have to read it either! 😀

F) You're an author and a writing request is asking you to write for a character in a way you just can't or don't want to write because that goes totally against your idealistics and ideas on a character, for example: You just can't write something really wholesome and fluffy for Leona because you can't imagine him being like that, what should you do? -> It's obvious, then don't write it! You have the right to choose what you'd like to write and how you like to picture a character no matter what others think. If you want to picture Leona as an emotional and soft boy, it's totally okay! If you want to picture him as a cold-hearted and mean prince, again it's totally alright! Remember, just like fans you have the right to picture and characterize the characters the way you want to, and no one can tell you otherwise!

G) You've read a character analysis and you realize that you've been mischaracterizing Floyd for a while, should you feel bad or sorry about it? -> Of course not!! Even if you were mischaracterizing him, keep this mind that there's nothing wrong with picturing Floyd as the way you want him to be! As long as you don't claim your headcanons to be canon and share stuff like "Canon from is definitely like this" or "Floyd would do that, canon! ^-^" it's totally alright to imagine him the way you like!

H) You saw someone saying something about Malleus that didn't match the canon interpretations of him. You quickly replied to then and corrected them about their wrong point of view and tell them how the real Malleus is, which kinda led to and argument between you and the person, did you do the right thing? -> Absolutely not! Attacking others out of nowhere and without any context isn't the right way of introducing the canon characterizations to the fandom! Even if you were right, keep this in mind that the other person has the right to picture Malleus or any other character the way they want them to be so if you want to correct them or try to get to know the canon character interpretations, you should do that from the logical and polite way.

I) Someone wrote a character analysis for Idia and said how they find it so annoying when people who refer to Idia as "Baby" and "uwu beanie". You often refer to Idia as baby or cutie yourself and the context of that analysis/general post some how got to you. You feel lowkey attacked and offended, did the original poster say the right thing? -> No, matter what the context is or how accurate and well-written that analysis was, directly calling people who have a certain way of picturing a character "Annoying" is rude no matter how you think of it. Even if the original poster were right about Idia not being UWU, their way of wording their sentence wasn't really pleasant; keep this, in mind that everyone in the fandom is free to picture Idia as they like and it doesn't even matter if you don't like it or not! If you're going to write an analysis/essay regarding a character's personality, remember that you should prove your point and disagree with opposite opinions through logical reasoning and explaining your point, NOT by offending and attacking other ideas by savage contexts like "You have to stop saying that Idia is like this", "I hate it when people say Idia is like this", " It's so annoying to see people saying Idia is like this... "

4) What's with the character analyses then?

There's a difference from the canon and fanon interpretations of a character, this is a truth which cannot be denied. But it's important to remember that just because a canon interpretation of a character exists, you can no longer enjoy the fanon interpretations!

Even I, for example, enjoy picturing someone like Malleus as an purely evil being like Maleficent herself because I enjoy seeing him as a perfect figure for "Mister of all Evil", but in my Malleus analysis post I explained how we should NOT think that Malleus is nothing but pure evil or a heartless monster! See, this is the difference I've been talking about. I'm pretty well-familiar with the canon Malleus, but I'm also enjoying the my own fanon Malleus and I know that the Evil Malleus I admire is a fanon one, not the canon one!

The thing is, character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold anyone back from enjoying their fanon interpretations or imagining what they like, they aren't call out posts either. They are simply a way of getting to know the characters as if you're getting to know one of your irl friends. You come to think of them, see how deep their personalities are and get to learn more about them!

It's true that reading a character analysis might make you realize that you've been somehow mischaracterizing a character but this, isn't anything to be sorry or frustrated about! Character analyses are written to learn us more about our favorite characters, or as I like to name it, they want to show us that they're a lot more that we may imagine them to be!

Now, you may wonder how can we write a good character analysis without getting out of the line, offending anyone or giving out any cheap information?

I, personally, am pretty strict when asked to do a character analysis. Doesn't matter if I like the character or not, I'd try to judge them nonetheless. You HAVE to talk about both good features and bad features, and you must strictly avoid your analysis from getting personal; you have to make sure that your personal thoughts, feelings and emotions regarding a character aren't effecting your analysis. You shouldn't be writing it in a way to show off with your analytical ideas either.

Some people think coming off as rude would make them sound valid and acceptable, or they might just be used to being a little offensive in general, but as I explained in part 3-I, I won't recommend using any harsh or mean languages at all. Let me note that your way of wording your ideas is crazily important and if you're not careful enough with what you say and how you describe your ideas, your post would be not only be not much helpful as an analysis but also a cause of more drama and arguments. Also, keep this in mind that even the best of character analyses can't totally catch the characters' personalities correctly because we do not own them! Twisted wonderland's characters are a property of aniplex and neither me not anyone else in this fandom has the right to claim what a character is 100% like unless Disney officially releases those details!

Writing character analyses can be hard, from finding enough of hints to defend your point to choosing the right Grammer and way of speaking to avoid any further misunderstandings. But remember, those who write character analyses have no right to attack anyone because of them (They can oppose to different opinions of course, opposing ≠ attacking ), but keep this in mind that readers have no right to attack then because of their analysis either! See, that's a two-sided relationship. Both of the, sides have to learn to respect, both of the sides should, know, their boundaries and both of the sides have to be respectful!

Warning: When I say you're free to do or imagine whatever you wish to do, know that posting and sharing writings too has its own rules. Make sure to put the proper warnings, and avoid using any taboo or clearly impolite and sometimes, illegal concepts such as incest, pedophilia, etc.

I actually had a lot more I wanted to say regarding the matter but I'm keeping it short, because I know that writing too much would make this boring and pretty hard to read. Hope that it's clear enough and avoid the possible future misunderstandings and arguments regarding the matter. Please, this isn't even about twst, it's about learning to respect each other it's about real life. Having people read THIS is a lot more important than having them read my character analyses or writings.

[tallyovie-writes]

Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

**

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.