#and i mean. not entirely true but nice to hear.

[vamptastic]

although you know what! while i did fall behind on things i care about (attendance, ap bio, college apps, social life) i did achieve some big things while i was going through my latest depressive bout. i got my senior project done (complete plans for a 4 story apt building + two papers about it + supplementary writing like a BoM n project schedule), i applied to the college i care the most about, i managed to scrape through with As and Bs for the semester even if i could've been doing better, i went to pride, i spent time with my friends. so i mean, worst case scenario, even if someday i go into that depressive state and never find my way out, i can still do all these big things i care about and be a capable person. still would rather not be depressed, cos it sucks, but it's reassuring to know it doesn't render me completely useless. not that being useless is bad. honestly reading the metamorphosis really helped there with realizing that even if my mental health renders me unrecognizable and unable to be a normal human anymore i will still be a creature worthy of sympathy and care. but still, it's better to feel you're capable even if held back by things outside your control than give up entirely.

[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil (separately) with a reader who is their s/o and reader is low-key their simp

like they won't worship the ground they walk on, but they just.. admire..??

like reader and the character will be hanging out, on a date, or in class or something and reader just sighs dreamily and looks at them with a look of like "im the luckiest person alive." because they love them so much

and if caught the reader won't be embarrassed and will just be like "you're so pretty." or "I'm so happy we're dating"

ik it's cringe lol but if I had one of these men as my boyfriend (cough Idia cough) I would literally just admire them so much because I love them so much and they're so freaking pretty

SWEEEEP I love fluff I love a healthy couple

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ abject admiration

summary: close enough. welcome back gomez addams! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, FLUFFY!, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

Riddle used to hate being stared at. it felt like judgment, like he was being put on trial for something he didn't do. as if the world was just... waiting for him to make a mistake so it could punish him. the first time he catches you staring, long before you were together, he almost had your head for it. now, the feeling of your eyes on him has become a comfort, though your words of admiration, your praises and affection, still make him blush

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona couldn't even remember the last time his parents told him they loved him. so when he hears it from you, his first instinct is to push you away. he thinks it's justified; you must want something, I mean, who would be so nice to him for no reason?

well, you. you would

he'd never admit it, but these days, he goes out of his way to do nice things for you, to make himself look and smell good, just to get more of your praises

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"you're so beautiful" and Azul crumbles. as cunning as he is, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand if you really wanted to. he considers himself a fortunate soul, because all you ask for in return is his time and affection

your compliments are better than any deal, your voice more melodious than any song. the very thought that you think he is pretty... him, of all people... well, you could bring him to his knees with a word

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

fawning over Kalim is absolutely impossible. he's not competitive by nature, but what you give him, he gives back ten times over. one kiss turns into ten, two gifts into twenty, and, of course, one praise turns into an entire soliloquy. you're lucky to have him? he's luckier than the richest man in the world, the most powerful mage, he insists even the Sorcerer of the Sands himself would fall to his knees and weep if he were to see your beauty. you're his sun, his moon, and his stars, and he never lets you forget it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil had never been in love, let alone in a relationship, before you. you're his first everything... and that means you're his first admirer, too. honestly, he's not really sure whether to believe you or not at first. "I'm so happy we're dating," surely, you're not talking about him...?

but you are. he can't even fathom why, but you are

...sometimes, it's better not to question everything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil gets his fair share of compliments, and rightfully so. he's put in the work, he deserves the recognition. and, for Seven's sake, Rook is his vice housewarden- he can't escape compliments

but... somehow, they're so much different coming from you. maybe it's the way you say things, soft and gentle and full of admiration, maybe it's your voice, or maybe it's just because it's you. because he knows that when you say you're happy with him, you mean him, not the brand, not the image, not what he's expected to be. just... him. it's true love

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia.exe has stopped working

even after months of dating, you still manage to catch him off guard with your "cringe couple stuff", as he calls it. it's... very distracting. you'll be mid-game, staring at him, and when he asks if you hit your head on the way in, you'll say something like "just thinking about how pretty you are" and his brain will short circuit. it's too bad he can't patch that... he'd love to respond without melting into an Idia-shaped puddle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

being head over heels for Malleus is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. on the other hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. even a simple "you look nice today" sends him over the moon with joy, and he will unapologetically cling to your side like the needy thing he is for the rest of the day, glaring at anyone who dares to take your attention off of him for more than twelve seconds. but, hey, you know what you like. you agreed to date him in the first place, after all

[agaypanic]

Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!

Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.

A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig

***

“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.

“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you. 

This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.

“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”

“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.

Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.

After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.

She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.

***

You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.

But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.

“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.” 

It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.

You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.

“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”

Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.

“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”

“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”

“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”

“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”

“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”

“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”

“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”

You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”

Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.

“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”

“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.” 

You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.

You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[lowkeyerror]

Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It’s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?”  Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart.  Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

 It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That’s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

[rederiswrites]

Okay so I'm giving @corseque 's super-important audio of all Solas' comments about the Blight a second (or fifteenth, whatever) listen and taking notes as I go.

Solas doesn't think for a second that once the archdemons are gone the Blight will be gone. Which really makes sense because it's the Blight that makes them an archdemon, not the other way around. Supposedly, they're blighted when the darkspawn reach and corrupt them. But of course that begs the question of why it's only darkspawn (and uh, honorary darkspawn like the Wardens) that hear their call. Anyway, the way he says it, it sounds more like the archdemons are a limiting factor than a driving factor.

Varric: "What's so confusing about endless darkspawn?" Solas: "A great deal!" So yeah, whatever the plan was, he didn't foresee darkspawn as a consequence. So did he not foresee them existing at all, or not foresee them being free to cause problems? Worth noting that it's really clear both in general and in Descent that dwarves as a whole were a huge blind spot for him.

He is really really surprised that the Western Approach ever recovered from the Blight. Pretty clear he didn't think that was possible.

He thinks that everything the Wardens have done up til now is a deeply misguided effort that's served (mostly accidentally) as a delaying tactic. Gotta say, with the information we have at hand, this point pairs about as well with the last as a nice dry red with spicy pickles. If the Wardens shouldn't have done what they've done, but he didn't think recovery from the Blight was possible, I'd love to hear what he thought the alternative was.

Same dialogue as above, but when Solas talks about stopping the Blight and when Blackwall and Varric talk about it, one gets the distinct impression that they're talking at cross purposes, because Varric and Blackwall are talking about the experience of Blights, as in, periodic events, whereas I think Solas is talking about THE Blight, that is, its true nature, which is yet untouched.

He thinks Erimond is dumb as shit, which is fair and valid. "That's madness! For all we know, killing the Old Gods could make things even worse!" he says. Well, he knows a lot more than "we" know, but it's entirely possible that he doesn't for sure know this. Increasingly clear that he thinks it, though.

I'd forgotten just how pissed off he was about the Grey Warden plan to kill the Old Gods before they were corrupted. It really doesn't give "hey you're killing my relatives" energy. It really gives "wow that would fuck us all" vibes.

Of course, with a side of my remembering that Solas' besetting flaw was always thinking people should know better even though they don't have access to the knowledge he has. That flaw I WILL grant. He displays it repeatedly--you could even say the writers went out of their way to make the point.

"The Blight is the real problem"

"The fools who first unleashed the Blight on this world thought they were unlocking ultimate power." Anyway yeah those are the absolute core of everything here. The Blight is the real problem and the Blight was deliberate. Deliberately made or deliberately freed.

Even during the events of Inquisition, Solas obviously sees Corypheus as secondary to the Blight as a danger.

Cassandra suggests that the archdemons were really just dragons--"Pets to those who no longer exist", by which she probably means the Old Gods, not specifically the gods of Elvhen, just because of her cultural background. Solas finds this suggestion amusingly wrong--a quiet snort, and "I would not go so far as that."

Last notes: he doesn't sound like he thinks the Blight can be stopped, and he's adamant that it can't be controlled. Which is presumably why he broke the world in an attempt to contain it, assuming I'm right that that was the underlying reason for the Veil. That it didn't quite work the way he'd hoped is also pretty evident, though I wanna be clear that I assume he was working from a place of desperation, and that not knowing every possible outcome of an action is not a condemnation of having taken it.

[eldritch-spouse]

Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺

[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]

TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.

" Listen to me Breg. "

You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.

" I've been working up to this for a long while- "

" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.

Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.

" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "

His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.

Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "

His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.

" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "

" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "

"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "

When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.

Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.

Some hesitant seconds pass.

" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.

" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.

" Uhuh! "

True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.

" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.

" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "

He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.

" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.

It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.

" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "

One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.

" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "

" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "

You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.

Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.

" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "

Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.

Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.

Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.

Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "

Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "

And that's all it takes.

The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.

" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.

" Does it feel good? " He pants.

" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.

" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "

He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.

" Breg! "

" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "

It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.

When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.

" AH! HN- Breg?! "

You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.

You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.

" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "

That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "

" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "

" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.

" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "

Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.

It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.

When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.

" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "

Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "

Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "

Why are you even surprised...

[nottyoursbutmine]

cruel summer | t.n

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff soulmate reader

the one where nott and Y/N never wanted a soulmate. so why can’t they stop thinking about each other after they agree to never talk about it again?

this is my first writing and you can totally tell. it’s super long for no reason so pls be nice. it has 3 OC in hufflepuff. totally wrote this overnight so I rushed the ending can you tell?

cruel summer - taylor swift

—

You’re listening to your best friend, Sophia, as you’re walking towards the Great Hall. For the past two weeks she has been ranting about the same thing, Blaise Zabini, her soulmate.

As she’s going on about the colors of trees, our uniforms, and flowers you can’t help but space off. They met while being paired up during Potions and spoke their first soulmate words to each other. She has always wanted to meet her soulmate and ever since then, she’s been happier than ever.

You have never wanted to meet your soulmate. The thought of being trapped down and having children will not be your future.

“Are you even listening to me?” Sophia asks.

“Oh, um…of course I was, Blaise is perfect, the sky is magical?” You say with uncertainty. You’re arriving at the Great Hall and approach your table to sit down.

She gives you a look and says, “No, you know exactly what I was saying…please Y/N!”

“Can I just ask why is this so important to you? I mean, it’s not as if we would have anything in common. Slytherin do not make friends with Hufflepuffs,” you say with a straight face. Compared to her always happy demeanor, you were the type of girl who looked at the glass half empty. Not to say you weren’t kind to everyone you met, but you were a realist.

“I have been trying to introduce you to Blaises’ friends since we met… please?” As she sits across from you at the table, she gives you her biggest smile, one that you can never say no to.

As you pick at your food, you finally give in. “Okay, fine but we have to invite the rest of the girls.”

She squeals, leans over the table and gives you a hug. You’ve never been one for physical contact but you’ve been friends with Sophia since diapers, so you do your best and pat her back.

-

You’re sitting on your bed with your curtains drawn staring at the words on your wrist, thinking about the power they hold. Your entire future is determined by your first words with a stranger. The words were harsh, feeding into your whole ‘wanting to be alone,’ thing. You wonder what their words say.

Seeing colors is something you have also always wondered about. What are the colors of your eyes and hair? What is the color green and why does it make nature look so beautiful? What about flowers? And the color of your clothes?

However, does spending forever with someone you didn’t get to choose sound worth it? You have heard stories of colors fading for people who have lost their soulmate or chosen to be alone, you wonder if that’s true.

You hear the door burst open and Sophia say, “Okay, get ready everyone! We’re going to the Slytherin common room.”

You pull your curtains back, then look at Violet and Ariana, Violet lets out a small laugh from her bed and says “What?”

“Yup! We are meeting Blaise, Riddle, Nott, Berkshire, and Malfoy in 1 hour,” Sophia says, “so you all better start getting ready.”

You all get up with a groan as you get up and all go into the bathroom to get ready. You decide to put on a warm sweatshirt/sweats set because it’s cold out and blowout your hair. You exit the bathroom and all make your way out of the Hufflepuff house.

Walking to the Slytherin common room seemed faster than it should have been. Sophia talked most of the way, assuring us that this will be fun. She always seemed to be the positive one in our group. She states that the guys are nicer in person and only look scary from afar or something like that.

As you get closer you see Zabini waiting outside. Sophia walked towards Blaise, greeting him with a kiss. “Blaise, these are my friends, Violet, Ariana and Y/N.”

He shakes Violet’s and Ariana’s hand, trying to make a good first impression on his soulmates friends and as he extends his hand towards you and Sophia stops him, “Y/N doesn’t touch.”

You feel your heart get warm, you didn’t know how you were going to get out of that awkward situation. She knows you so well, you just give her a small smile as a thank you.

He just chuckles and says, “Exactly like someone else I know. Okay, c’mon the guys are inside.” As you walk in you can’t help but look around, even though you can’t see colors, the Slytherin common room has always been famously talked about and you wanted to know what the fuss was about.

You see Berkshire sitting on an armchair, reading a book. Malfoy is sitting on the floor with his back to the couch and he’s doing homework on the table. Riddle laying on a couch and Nott laying on the couch across from him talking you think about Herbology.

“Girls, these are the guys, right there is Malfoy. Right there is Riddle, over there is Nott, and there is Berkshire.” Zabini says pointing over at them without looking, without caring. It made you internally laugh.

Your eyes glaze over the boys and you just give them a smile. The girls give the boys their biggest smile and say hello, Ariana even goes as far as to give her famous flirtatious hugs. Not that you are judging, these guys are attractive.

Nott and Riddle sit down on the couches to make room for you girls. You sit next at the end of the couch to the left of Violet, who’s in the middle sitting next to Riddle. Ariana is sitting across from you, to the right of Sophia. Sophia is sitting next to Zabini, who’s finally sitting next to Nott at the very left. Berkshire is hadn’t moved from his place in the arm chair and Malfoy had collected his homework, but was still sitting on the floor.

The usual topics come by, grades, hate for the teachers, holidays, and the usual family drama. “Okay let’s get real, has everyone here met their soulmate?” Ariana asks.

Berkshire begins to rant about his soulmate, one that everyone knew he had. It was nice to hear him say those sweet words about her.

Malfoy rolls his eyes and says, “Doesn’t everyone already know the answer to this question? It’s not as if this school doesn’t spread the word as soon as it happens.”

Riddle laughs looking over at him, “You’re just upset because Granger is mad at you right now.”

“I don’t know why you don’t go apologize to her like I’ve been saying, staying here isn’t going to help her forgive you,” Berkshire says.

“He’s right, you need to man up and go to her dorm,” Nott speaks up, “if you don’t she’ll be pissed forever man.”

Malfoy looks like he wants to kill all his friends as he gets up and storms out of the common room, assumingely on his way to the Gryffindor house.

Malfoy, Berkshire, and Zabini are the only ones in the group who have found their soulmates, leaving Riddle and Nott to find theirs.

As everyone but Nott and you answer the question, the tension shifts. “So Y/L/N, have you found your soulmate?” Riddle asks, a hint of suggestiveness in his voice.

All eyes fall on you, “Um...No, I haven’t, but I don’t want to either, so…” you say trailing off.

“You don’t want to? Sounds familiar. Can we ask why you don’t want to?” He pries while glancing to the side, at something or someone. You’re not sure if you imagine it but everyone leans in closer, except for Nott of course, who’s sitting against the couch, eyes not leaving you.

“Well, let’s just say, I’m not going to let some words, colors, and a stranger determine a future I have already envisioned for myself, one that does not have a soulmate,” you have the straightest face and you’re not sure if it’s just your natural face or if you’re just annoyed by all these questions.

The boys sit in silence as they all give each other looks to your answer, however Nott is just staring at you and for some reason you’re afraid to look his way.

It seems like the night has ended with what you said and you decide you need to leave to room immediately. “Okay well, if that’s all I’m going now…I have to go to the library to finish my homework.”

Violet and Ariana follow you out, Sophia stays behind to spend more time with Zabini. As you’re walking you feel eyes burning into the back of your head.

-

Heading back to your common room from the library alone before curfew was a usual trip for you. The dark, empty corridor never scared you, it actually brought you peace. Ariana was the only one who preferred to study with you, but today she wanted to rest.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

While turning a corner you trip over something you don’t see, hands wrap around torso preventing you from falling. You drop your books and loose papers on the ground. You immediately push yourself away from the person holding you up.

It’s so dark out, you can’t see the tall figure, however, as you bend over to pick up everything you dropped, his shoes look expensive.

And so you do what you do best, apologize,“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Than-”

You feel the person slightly freeze but not enough for you to process it, “My god, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Now it’s your turn to freeze. You’re afraid to look up, you’re afraid to even move. All of a sudden everything is different, you understand what Sophia means when she says the lights are yellow and actually do light up the night. You look at your clothes and see your yellow set. Everything yellow.

You’re not even sure why but you thought you had more time to find them. You’ve collected all your things and you’re still there staring at the ground. How are you supposed to tell this guy you’re not interested?

As you stand up, you stare into the eyes of Theodore Nott and you’re not sure what you feel. His eyes are so brown, his hair is so brown and he looks so attractive in his Slytherin uniform.

You’re both just standing staring at each other and you’re not sure what to say to him. Should you rip the bandaid off?

“Okay so, I don’t want you and you don’t want me, right? Let’s just pretend this never happened,” he has the straightest face ever.

You’re grateful he said it first so you didn’t have to but you’re not sure why you’re heart skipped a beat, almost like his words hurt you. “Okay.”

You’re not sure what else to say and you’re also not sure why your heart is now beating so hard in your chest. The colors don’t even matter anymore, what only matters to you now is that he’s in front of you and that he was just in front of you a few hours earlier, yet you never spoke one word to each other.

You thought the conversation was over, you thought he would walk away. He clears his throat, “Okay well then, let’s shake on it,” he says as he extends his hand out to you without looking away from your eyes.

You look at his hand and in a beat place your hand in his, slowly shaking it. “So we agree to not tell anyone,” looking back in his eyes. Your heart starts beating faster and your mind starts racing. You pull your hand back and say, “Goodbye then,” you walk away and don’t look back.

-

Ariana wakes you up the next morning, saying something about almost being late for breakfast.

As you get up, enter the bathroom to get ready and put your uniform on, you curl your hair and put it in a ponytail with side pieces out.

As you exit the bathroom you see Sophia sitting on her bed. “What do you all say about sitting with Blaise and the boys for breakfast this morning?” she says with a grin.

Ariana claps her hands together, jumping up and down, “That would be so fun. Last night was so fun!” Throughout the night she became good friends with the boys by gossiping about the teachers and student drama in the school.

Violet gives Sophia a small smile, “I think that would be nice.”

All eyes turn to me, I roll eyes in sarcasm, “Okay, let’s just go or all the blueberry muffins will be gone and you know how I feel about that.”

-

You follow Sophia to the Slytherin table and as the boys see you all approach, you see Zabini say something to them, making them scoot over. Sophia casually sits next to Zabini at the end of the table. You sit down first, scooting over for Ariana and Violet. Riddle is to your right, Nott directly across from you, and Violet to your left.

You immediately begin looking around for a blueberry muffin but don’t see one, the only one you see is on Notts plate. So you go for the second best option, banana bread.

“Aw we were too late? I’m sorry hun. Tomorrow will be better,” Sophia says with her positive attitude. You give her a smile and try to not continue the conversation.

“Late for what?” Riddle asks with a mouth full of food.

“Nothi-”

“Y/N loves her blueberry muffin for breakfast,” Violet says as if it’s the biggest secret in the school. You shrug because it’s true, there’s nothing better to start your day off with.

“Here then.” Nott holds out his plate offering you his muffin. The guys give him a look as if he just told them he’s joining the circus.

“No, it’s yours,” you say, giving him the exact same look.

He pushes the plate closer to you, “Take the damn muffin if you’re going to be complaining about it.”

The energy has completely changed, “Woah man, what the hell?” Berkshire says, sitting to Notts left.

Your eyes narrow at him, push the plate away and in your calmest voice say, “I didn’t complain about any damn thing, you’re getting hysterical Nott. Why don’t you calm down?”

And with that, he storms out of the Great Hall leaving his friends to question exactly what happened.

You’re left staring at where he was sitting, hurt in your chest but you both made this decision. And if you bleed he’ll be the last to know.

-

It’s been two weeks since you have found Nott, two weeks since you’ve been trying your best to avoid him, and two weeks since you’ve been failing at it.

You’re sitting in the library with Cedric working on your project. You’ve been working for hours and for hours Nott and Berkshire have been sitting in your line of view doing ‘homework.’ You turn back to Cedric, this grade is more important than some boy.

For some reason, Nott can’t look away from you. His mind is going crazy knowing you’re avoiding him. He’s the one who made this decision, why can’t he get you off his mind?

He thinks about the first words you spoke to each other and regrets being so harsh towards you, he wonders if you hate him for that. He wonders if the words on your skin have taunted you forever and if that’s truly why you don’t want a soulmate.

Colors haven’t faded for him, probably because he keeps following you, trying to be close to you. The color of your hair and eyes, your after school outfits. Your smile and the way you tilt your head back when you laugh. He cannot look away from you.

Berkshire realizes Nott isn’t paying attention to him at all, turning around to see what he’s staring at. “Merlin, is she your soulmate or something?”

Notts heart skips a beat, “What are you talking about? O-Of course she’s not,” trying his best to play it off.

Berkshire gives Nott a look, “You constantly follow her around, you threatened Cedric to not make a move even though he has a soulmate, you always save a blueberry muffin at breakfast in case she sits with us, you always-”

“Are you a detective or something?” Nott says narrowing his eyes.

“Listen, I just think that, if you have something to say…you should say it before it’s too late. I should go, I’m meeting Olivia but…think about it,” he says as he gets up leaving to meet his soulmate, a glint in his eyes.

“Wait,” Nott stops Berkshire, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

As he sits there waiting for you to finish with Cedric, the words Berkshire said can’t leave his mind. Cedric’s soulmate walks up to the table with a smile greeting Y/N, his arrival makes Cedric get up and says goodbye to you.

Nott takes this opportunity to walk up to your table and simply sit down across from you, taking Cedric’s former seat. You simply stare at him, not knowing what to say. His eyes are so brown, his hair looks so soft, and his sweater looks so warm you just want to reach over and feel every part of him.

You’re both staring at each other in silence, both afraid to make the first move, your heart is beating so fast and you can’t think of a single thing to say to him.

He takes a deep breath, looks in your eyes and says, “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now but I can’t stop thinking about you and colors are brighter when you’re in the room, I need to see your smile and hear your laugh everyday or else I- I can’t think about anything else and you seem so okay but I-”

To say you’re in shock is an understatement, you’re afraid to open your mouth unsure of what will come out. You reach over the table and hold his hand in an attempt to calm him down, “I’m not okay,” you say looking down at your hands as he starts drawing circles, “I think about you all the time, it’s exhausting.”

“I never thought finding my soulmate would feel like this, I never thought choosing my own path would be the wrong option.” You give him your biggest smile and he stares at you with a glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “So, how should we go on about this? Do we tell everyone now?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, “How about we start to get to know each other first?”

“I already know everything about you. You love blueberry muffins, cats, you don’t have a favorite flower because they’re too hard to choose from, you don’t drink your drink until after you finish eating, you hate people who chew with their mouth open, you-”

“Okay! Wow, you really do know me. Have you been purposefully following me?” You say in a teasing tone, your heart warming at the fact that your soulmate knows you, the real you.

You see his cheeks heat up and his head lower, “What? No! Uh-no, I-”

“Nott,” you say pulling your hands back from his, giving him a small smile, “I’m just joking around.”

He grabs your hands back pulling them into his, the warmth of his hands helping with the cold of the library. “It’s Theo.”

Your cheeks warm up, “It’s Y/N.”

-

It’s been a week since the conversation in the library and having a soulmate was better than you have ever heard. Theo and you haven’t gone further than holding hands in secret and sharing pecks on the cheeks and the corner of each other’s mouth. It has been excruciating holding back from kissing him, but you want him to make the first move.

For the past week, you woke up early in the morning to meet with Theo before breakfast. You told your friends you went to the library to get some extra study hours in. For some reason, they never questioned you and you never questioned that.

They don’t know you meet Theo in either The Room of Requirement or an empty classroom and just talk about anything and everything. Before it was blueberry muffins and now this is the best way to start your days.

This morning you’re laying on the couch in the Room of Requirement with him on top of you as you play with his hair in silence. “Can I admit something to you?”

“Of course you can,” you say furrowing your brows.

He looks up, grinning like a devil, causing you to stop playing with his hair. “I tripped you. When we met, I saw you walking, I saw you in your mind and for some reason I just wanted to…touch you. Which I knew I needed to do because I’ve never felt that way. I’ve never wanted to feel someone’s skin against mine. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.” His voice getting deeper as he talks and your heart beating faster as the air grows thick with something you’re unfamiliar with.

You can’t look away and your skin is burning. Was it always so hot in here? You don’t know what to say. His eyes are so brown, the brown you love. You only have one thing to say, “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, holding himself up with his right hand so you’re laying underneath him. He grabs your jaw with his left hand and immediately places his lips on yours. The kiss starts off gently, with you running your fingers through his hair, as you pull on it he immediately begins deepening the kiss, his left hand now cupping the back of your head pulling on your hair.

-

Typically when walking towards the Great Hall with Theo, you both arrive before anyone and walk to your separate tables, waiting for your friends without suspicion. However this time, with everything that happened, you two were a little late.

You both arrive at the Great Hall and see your friends sitting together, giving you both looks as if they’ve been expecting you. Now your mind is racing with probabilities. Is your shirt ruffled? Is your hair out of place? Are Theo’s buttons unbuttoned? Is Theo’s hair ruffled?

Theo and you sit down seats away from each other as casual as you can as if that would be less suspicious. You serve yourself breakfast, ignoring the silence and obvious topic you’re trying to avoid.

Riddle scoffs, “Okay, I’m tired of this, when are you two going to tell us?” He says looking only at Theo.

“What are you talking about?” Theo says, furrowing his brows feigning confusion.

Ariana speaks up, “Y/N, we really thought you would tell us if anything happened.”

“I understand why you wouldn’t but finding your soulmate is something massive that you needed time to process-”

You cut Sophia off, “Soulmate? So you all know then.”

“We know.” They all say in unison.

“Wait, how? Besides Berkshire who promised not to tell…” Theo said.

“Wait Berkshire figured it out?” You ask.

Berkshire nods his head as he says, “Oh c’mon it was so obvious. He was stalking her, obsessed with blueberry muffins, his mood would change when she was around, he switched seats to be near her, guys around her would suddenly not be-”

Theo narrows his eyes, “Okay, you could’ve stopped a long time ago. We get it.”

You look at your friends, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, it was all just complicated.”

They all look at each other and Violet smiles, “We get it Y/N, we all noticed you’ve been happier too.”

Ariana adds in a teasing tone, “Plus you two weren’t that secretive walking back to the dorms before curfew. I must say though, you actually looked cute, his arm around your shoulder.”

Your cheeks warm up, the fact that they know and it’s now official, setting in.

You turn to Theo, finding him already staring at you. You immediately give him a smile and look into his eyes, his eyes are so brown, the brown you love. He smiles back and-

“Yuck! You two are disgusting, I’m trying to eat my breakfast here,” Malfoy says.

“Alright Theo, let go,” you say getting up from the table ready to get away, “we’ll see you guys later.”

“Theo?” All the boys say in unison.

Theo intertwines your fingers together, glad he doesn’t have to hide you two anymore. “Just keep walking,” he says. However as he leads you out of the Great Hall you don’t miss the teasing “Aw’s” coming from your friends.

He leads you out of the Great Hall, into an empty classroom. He closes the door after you enter and presses you up against the door. He holds your face in his hand, “Please tell me they didn’t scare you off.”

You tilt your head back while laughing, “Of course not.” You peck his lips and pull back too fast for his liking.

“Good because, for whatever it’s worth…I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” He says looking down at you with a shy smile.

You wrap your arms around his neck, shaking your head, “I love you,” pulling him down so your lips could meet.

You pull back and stare into his eyes, his brown eyes, the brown you love so much.

—

send any requests you would like thank you

I totally edited this after I posted

I know theo doesn’t have brown eyes btw it’s more of a reader(me) thing thanks

[cherry-leclerc]

so long, london ☆ ln4

genre: angst, toxic relationship traits, fluff, humor, established relationship, one-sided, smut

word count: 7.3k

You've never been read so easily by someone until he entered your world. All is good, all is true love, but realistically, that all comes crumbling down. Leaving you with a series of doubts. The kind you ignore because why not?

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, m!receiving, f!receiving

inspired by this and this !

To be completely fair, the accent wasn’t all that familiar to you. It’s odd, then alluring, then it makes you curl a brow. Australian? British? Irish—no, that’s too far off, ridiculous, really. 

It’s the end of spring, which means it’s also the start of summer, which also means your job is in full force. Which is good if you’re still considering transferring to London to study abroad. You were, thank you very much, which is why you needed a shit load of money. 

Being a waitress isn’t all that bad; the view was breathtaking. Laguna Beach has always been and always will be. It’s impossible to take away its charm. 

The diner is small, yet crowded, so it’s hard to get through with a stack of breakfast plates atop one another. A piece of bacon slips past you as you let out a curse, mentally noting to clean it up on your way back. “An order of pancakes, french toast, two hashbrowns, bacon, four freshly squeezed orange juice—shit. I forgot, it was grapefruit, wasn’t it?”

Setting down the plates as carefully as you can with their assistance, you let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back—”

“It’s fine, mate. Orange juice is just as good.” His voice is soft and rough, all at once. 

You halt, fixing your apron, awkwardly. “No, it was my mistake, I’ll fix it—”

Mmm, delicious, his friends chime in as they take a sip from the fresh beverage. The blue eyed boy signals with his dark brows. “Told you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Cool,” you mumble. “Enjoy. Oh, and let me know if you need anything.”

They don’t, which is quite upsetting since you were slightly curious to find out if you were right. Smoking a joint, you hear a loud cough. The mysterious brunette waves. “Tough shift?”

“Of course not, I love it.”

He nods. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure that’s not the complete truth.” He sits. “You’re on your break, I presume, which means you're not on the clock, which means I’m no longer a customer, but rather just a stranger. A stranger whom you will most likely never see again, so…”

A puff expands through the blue sky and yellow sun. You squint. “I’m worn out. Down. Worn down? Both.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

A chuckle. “But you were able to notice which obviously means I’m not much of an actress.”

He motions over to the cigarette. You hesitantly hand it over to him as he sucks sharply and releases. Bemused, you make a face. “I was because I go through the same thing, oftentimes. More like all the time.” Another hit. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure whether I should feel seen or scared…” Humor laces your soft voice as you quirk a brow. He laughs.

“Seen, definitely.” A beat. “I’m Lando. Foreign visitor.”

Shaking his hand, you ease up, smiling, gently. “Nice to meet you, Lando—foreign visitor.” A pause. “Resident.”

“Really, now?” He plays along, teasing. You can hear it. 

“Lucky, I know. Been here my entire life. Can’t complain.”

“I bet.”

“Yourself?”

Lando winces. “England. Bristol, specifically. Ever been?” Nope. A toothy grin. “Don’t—rains all day long, gloomy all year. It’s depressing, but…” He relaxes. “It’s home.”

Staring off into the waves, you cover your face from the strong breeze. Salt air splits your tongue in half as you wipe your mouth. “Your accent. It’s captivating. As soon as I heard it, I grew jealous.”

The Brit frowns. “Your accent is much better. Clean,” he adds and you let out a snort. Accent—what accent? He rolls his blue eyes. “That one. You might not consider it one, but it is. Very…pretty.” A rosy tint flourishes onto his cheeks. Summer heat, summer breeze, perhaps. 

Retreating the roll from his hand, you stomp on it, letting the light die. “Thank you, Lando from England. You made my day.”

-

That’s the end, really. Just a nice encounter that still doesn’t make much sense, but you’re glad it happened. Normally, after a tiring shift, you borrow Benny’s surfboard and rush towards the killer waves. The soothing water releases a lot of the built up tension that lies between your shoulder blades. 

Today isn’t much different. After getting yelled at for— “getting the fucking order wrong, bitch” —and— “my toddler just threw up, yes, oh, nevermind, had a…teensy accident” — you don’t second guess it. As soon as your skin connects to the warm temperature, you sigh in sweet relief. 

“I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to—”

“You just got here, though. Plus, the water feels nice, don’t you think?”

Startled, you sit up on your board, rocking back and forth. With what looks to be a painful tan, Lando smiles, sheepishly. “Hello…again.”

“Are…” You look around, but the ocean is practically empty. “A-are you stalking me?”

His smile drops. “W-wh—no! Of course not! I saw you from afar, and I just thought…” He grimaces. “I should go.” Except he can’t. Every chance he tries to tread away, the waves only push him back. It’s comedic. “One sec…crap. One more—shit. Okay, two, two sec—”

“Ah, forget it, stay. Land of the free, no?” Rubbing your nose, you pull his paddle closer. “What brought you out here?”

“Heard it was a good day to attempt to surf. Tell you what—it’s not.”

A giggle escapes, then lessens. You furrow your brows. “Hold on a minute; are you teaching yourself? As in, no instructor? Just you? Alone? Solo?”

“Yeah, what about it?” he grumbles. “I can do it.”

You’re wheezing at this point, stomach clenching. “That’s nearly impossible! I’m mean, sort of, sort of not.” When his eyes don’t switch from being offended to getting the joke, you quickly snap your lips shut. “Can I teach you? It’s not that hard.”

He gapes, curls grow more and more. They’re cute, the way they bounce when he shakes his head. “And if it’s so easy then why can’t I just do it myself?”

“How long have you been trying?”

He burns up. “That’s not the point.”

“No, that’s exactly my point. You need a mentor, and lucky for you, I’m a surf instructor on the weekends. Come on.”

The twenty-four year old is not sure he even wants to be here, suffering from an overdose of embarrassment. Every single attempt ends up with him splashing straight into the clear water. He groans for the millionth time, clutching into his board. “I think I’m done for the day.”

You don’t fight him on it. His bruised nose makes you feel bad, and his chipped lip makes you want to giggle, so yeah, that’s enough. He can taste the salt water as he smacks his lips, trying to get rid of it. You click your tongue. “That doesn’t really do anything. Not until you bathe and brush your teeth. Or rinse. Either or.” 

He invites you to the mansion he’s rented for him and his friends, declaring that there would be endless amounts of alcohol, but when you decline, he rubs his jaw and grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, either. Craving tacos?”

So, that’s what you two do; converse over an amazing meal. You can already note his skin shedding, but for some reason, it’s endearing. You even spot a couple of moles. Chewing rapidly to try and forget about the spice, he pants. “London, eh?”

“England,” you correct. He deadpans you.

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s along the same lines. Just like Monaco and Paris.”

You shrug. “London—yes.”

Sniffling, he reaches for his can of Coke. Gasping left and right, he winks to the best of his ability. “You’re a smart girl…I think. And you’ll get in…I think.”

“Gee, thanks, I think.”

He laughs. “I hope you get in. I really do, Laguna Resident.” You roll your eyes. “You won’t miss all of this, though?” The warmth, the people, everything. A bittersweet feeling runs through your veins, momentarily, before you wave him off.

“Nothing is holding me back, forcing me to stay. I’ll be just fine.”

Finally, he calms down, occasionally sneezing. The way he excuses himself makes him look very polished. Lando licks his lips clean, drumming his long fingers against his lap. Later you would find out this would be his nervous tick. A teller. A good one, at most. 

“Call me? When you get there, I mean—if you want to, of course. No pressure.”

And while you may not have a reason to be a part of SoCal anymore, something else seemed to tug you to the other side of the world. “Might have to take your word for it.”

“Good.”

You grin, looking down onto your lap. Later he’d know this was your way of avoiding his stare. Butterflies, for the meantime. “Good.”

-

“No, no, no! You were supposed to—forget it, nevermind. Did you at least—” The stream flatlines and Lando is left speechless, headset drooping down, inch by inch. The way his eyes furiously twitch is enough for you to peck his cheek. 

“It’s late anyways. Come on, let's go to bed.”

There’s utter nonsense, and mumbo-jumbo that he spills as he reluctantly follows. If Max had done this, and if Max had done that. Pouting, you cradle his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re telling me you wish you would still rather be playing than spend time with me?” You gently slap his face and he smiles, sheepishly. “I’m hurt.”

“No, no, you’re right. Of course I want to spend time with you.” When you peck his nose, he sighs. You can faintly smell the cheap beer, courtesy of said Max, so you let out a screech, creating a distance. 

“Never mind. I don’t want to spend time with you, you reek.” His smile drops and you pinch the tip of your nose. “Reek, I tell you. Go brush your teeth!”

The McLaren driver snarls, then makes his way over to your shared bathroom. “I remember when you used to be fun. Seems like a decade ago.”

“And make sure to floss!”

-

If you’re able to remember, you could openly admit that you did make that call. Actually, text. You got cold feet and sent a text last minute. You met up at the pub just around your dorm, the one that is only busy during the weekends, so is practically empty during the week. Hence, Wednesday night.

Wow. Your tan is gone, is the first thing he says when he sees you. It’s true. Being away from the California sun has completely changed you. A bit, but it did. Giggling, you accept his hug, finding warmth. London weather. “How was the move? I want to hear all about it.”

Oh, the move was as good as it could get. The airport lost two of my luggages, but it’s fine, I didn’t really need many dresses, because yes, you were right, it’s always gloomy. I miss Benny like a baby, but we always keep in touch—I’m actually going to visit him for his birthday. Which is in January? Yes…yes! January third. 

“What about you? Work?”

First of all, can’t really consider it work when it’s fucking fun. Second of all, it’s quite swell. I’ve got a new teammate, which sort of sucks, but he’s nice. The car is a bit wonky, but I’m sure that’ll change throughout the course of the year. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. 

Conversations switched from having them on a steady stool in the pub, to having them in the comfort of his flat. Plus, you two were more open and honest with one another. 

Benny, yeah, it’s pancreatic cancer, and no, I’m not okay. 

The team is fucking shit. My arm still hurts from last week's crash, but I’ll be fine. Please, don’t you worry, love. 

Lando is an absolute angel. He pays for your tickets back home, along with Benny’s treatment. He declines the help at first, but as soon as he meets your smiley boyfriend, he accepts. I’ll pay you back. Once I’m better. Lando laughs with a muppet dive. Of course—of course, Ben.

You take care of him and his injuries. Follow doctors orders. Ice at least twice a day. Don’t forget to take your pain meds. No, for the love of God, they’re not candy, sweetheart.

It’s the best and the worst. And it’s all yours.

-

He’s very much obsessed with Mila as soon as she’s born. He congratulates his brother and his sister-in-law once, and off he goes, straight to the newborn. It makes you fall in love even more, which you didn’t know was possible, but here you were. 

“I say give it a year or two.”

“More like five. Come on, honey, be realistic.”

“I am! Can’t you tell he adores her?” Oliver scoffs. “He’s my brother. I would know.” His wife rolls her eyes, then moves on to snap a few pictures of Lando and Mila, then a thousand videos. 

“Crap. I want one,” he mentions on the drive back home. He gently rubs his thumb over your leg; you shudder. “You saw me, you were a witness, I was a good enough babysitter!”

“Babysitter? You’d be a dad, not a babysitter,” you retort, though your wobbly grin is a dead giveaway. A long finger pokes at your ribs as you laugh, scooting as far enough away as the McLaren allows you to get. “One day. Just not now.”

And he knows that’s true. He’s busy with racing, you’re busy with school; it's irresponsible. Your confirmation was sweet though—it was enough. The Brit hums, continuing the drive with a bright smile. 

“One day, then.”

-

Baby talk was a fun thing to dream about. To think, daydream. Marriage talk? Now that’s serious. 

It started on a Sunday morning; a non-race week. He’s finally back home and you're ecstatic. He was too, but that slowly goes out the window when you rush him to the room. I like where this is going, he starts when you drag him along. You bite back a smile, waiting for his noise. “What the shit?” he yelps, pulling on his curls. Spinning to face you, your boyfriend groans. “Where’s all my gaming—sweetheart,” he softened his voice, softened his eyes. “Sweetheart…”

“It’s gone! Bye-bye, adios!” You twirl around the empty room. “You don’t need it, Lando. It was rotting your brain.”

The color from his vibrant face fades, leaving him to let out a delirious laugh. “No, no, it wasn’t. Wh-why would you do that?” He doubles over. “I’m going to be sick.”

After a while of letting him drown in a puddle of self-pity, you snicker. Blue eyes look up at you; furrowed thick brows. What? “They’re in the guest room. I just needed us to paint the walls.” Releasing a scream, Lando plunges for you, picking you up and spinning you around until you flop against his arms. 

“Asshole!” you yell, smacking his arm. After a series of instructions, you both fall into a pattern. He focuses on the left side of the room and you focus on the left and the right. It just makes sense.

“Stick to your side,” he mumbles, pushing you away. You burn a laser to the back of his head. “I can feel you killing me—stop it.”

“Then quit drawing, you’re ruining it!” There’s a cat, a dog, a house, his racing car, you—you presume— and Mila for good measure, but he serves her no justice as she appears to be more of a blob. Going over it with a thick layer of paint, he curses to himself. As soon as he picks up the thin brush once again, you immediately set your foot down. “No, Lando, think before you commit.”

But he must not hear you—or ignores you—because suddenly he’s drawing something unrecognizable. You almost laugh when you guess it must be a donut, but when he draws the familiar rock, you come to a halt. “Stellar, no?”

“Hardly. Looks like more of a neck guard—next!”

But he pushes you away as soon as you reach over to cover it up. “I’m being serious. I’m mean, not now, but someday. Are you…” His voice drops, slowly, and he drums his fingers onto his thigh. Your lips turn upward. “...open to it? Getting married?”

“Well,” you start and his breath hitches, nervously tapping, awaiting for your response. Pressing your lips against his, you breathe out, and he groans. “I love you, Lando. I’m more than open to it.”

He sighs in relief, kissing you harder this time, with more emotion. “Good.” A beat. “Thank you.”

-

Slowly, but surely, you’re celebrating your three year anniversary—in Japan, a race week—but still. Yuki specifically gives you two a list of places to visit, so it makes everything a thousand percent easier. Fifth, he grunts, throwing his helmet onto the tiny bed in his motorhome. Screw it, I’m blowing my brains out.

“Hey now, quit talking like that.” A kiss. “I don’t care if you’re upset, I happen to be super duper proud.”

“It’s Super Trouper,” Oscar yells from the other side of the wall. “Don’t disrespect ABBA like that.

“Yeah,” Lando hums, pulling you in. “Don’t.”

“I’ll pull the trigger,” you warn. 

He gasps, theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.” 

“I already have—sweet.” His dirty implications makes you heat up and the Australian groans as he turns up his music. Lando snickers, changing quickly. “Happy Anniversary. It’s not everyday, you know?”

“I know,” you cheer, playing with your promise ring. You beam up at the bubbly Brit. “I just wish we were home. Celebrating in the comfort of our own place.”

He doesn’t mention it, but you considering London your home—despite not growing up there—makes him crush on you harder than ever before; it's sickening. Clapping loudly, he stands up, reaching for your hand. “Then let's go back home. What’s keeping us here?”

“Yuki,” you grunt, taking his open hand. “We’d be breaking his heart, Lan. We need to do these twenty-one things.”

“Ah, he’ll understand.” A pause. “If he doesn’t then we’ll just buy his next meal to make up for it.”

Cackling, you peck his face, over and over until he pushes you away in a jokeful manner. “This is why I love you, Lando Norris!”

And he’s content, admiring the way you pack happily. He’s never seen someone so giddy to spend fourteen hours on a plane just to curl into the comfort of their bed. He’s just never seen or met anyone like you. 

It was perfect.

-

As soon as he picks up his own digital camera, he’s in love. Part of you would be jealous, definitely, if it weren’t for him stopping to take a thousand pictures of you. One in the McLaren garage, next to his car. One where you balance yourself on a swing, eventually falling straight onto your face. One of your newly bruised nose, due to the fall. One where you’re sleeping, drooling like a—

“Delete that, I don’t even want to see it!”

Shaking his head full of curls, he runs away. “No! I happen to love it!”

“Lando!”

“You look adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m leaving. Spend the night alone, loser.”

You don’t end up keeping your word. You get your revenge, eventually, when you pie him in his sleep. He nearly chokes, but it’s all in good fun, according to you. 

But neither of you would have it any other way. You just happen to be his muse. 

-

His greediness starts to show overnight, nearly. It catches you off guard, leaving you like a lost dog. The worst part is that it’s not directed directly at you, per se, but it felt like it. Most of the time, you’d deal with this by talking to him until he calms down, by making him a cup chamomile tea, because—

“It doesn’t help!” He paces the small room, throwing his gloves harshly against the wall. 

“Studies prove—”

“Studies my ass.” An angry huff. “I just need to be alone. For a while.”

And it also catches you off guard how you don’t fight him back on it. Instead, you’re glad, fleeing out the door, straight to God knows where. Strolling, you twist and turn the thin band. 

Where are you going?

“You said you wanted to be…” Except it’s not Lando. George quirks a dark brow. You gulp, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” A painful pause. “I thought you were Lando.”

“Must be the accent.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Carmen actually made me chase you down. Said she wants your opinion with something about the wedding. You know her—perfectionist.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Throwing your hair over your shoulder, you beam brighter this time, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I have plenty of time.”

He’s rude when he finds you. Well, not really, but even your friends notice it. I’m telling him to wear a simple black and white suit. A bow or a tie, he can decide, but he’s insisting on wearing white and I’m like hello? You giggle, orbs moving to find George with a playful glare. 

“Why can you be the only one wearing white? It’s this some kind of rule or?”

“No, but it’s weird!” Carmen turns to face you, desperate eyes begging for backup. “Come on! Tell him it’s weird.”

Plump lips flicker upward. “I don’t know, George, it is a b—”

“Awful. You’re going to steal all the attention away from Caren and you’re going to look horrible. Just go with a traditional suit.”

The Mercedes driver doesn’t pay any attention to what was just said to him, but you and Carmen do, and that’s probably worse. You can tell she’s bothered by your boyfriend's unwanted opinion and for him going after her fiancé, so you briskly stand up. “Sweetheart, are you, um…ready to go?”

The Brit nods, fixing his bag that lays over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m here, no? Could have let me know you were leaving, too.” There’s tension in his voice; annoyance. “Also, I forgot your bag. I’ll wait for you here.”

His implication makes you queasy. You blink hastily. “Of course.” Turning to the older couple, you smile politely. “Um…text me, yeah? Let me know what you two decide on.”

Once you rush off, Carmen narrows her usually kind eyes, hard. George is quick, placing a steady hand onto her lap, and clears his throat. “You know, just because you didn’t place a podium for once doesn’t mean you get to act like a jerk. Seriously.”

Lando chooses to ignore his comment, bidding goodbye, and strolls over to find you, flustered. “Now I’m ready,” you confirm with a weak smile. The Brit laces his fingers through yours and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss. 

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do. I do know.”

-

He’s trying to be more gentle, you can tell. With his words, with his actions. It reminds you why you chose him. He had apologized after a quiet night, settling with what he had done. How he had treated you and his friends. George is quick to accept his apology, and you were too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he groans quietly, chest pressed against yours as you ride him. “I s-shouldn’t have—fuck.” The way you clench around him tightly makes his head spin. A whine escapes your swollen lips as you nod, fast, then slow, then staggered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you pant, finally opening your eyes to find him already looking up at you. He squeezes your hips harder, keeping you firm. “You were upset, that’s all. I get it.”

She gets it, he remembers thinking, considering himself lucky for having a girlfriend who understands. His highs. His lows. His wins. He loses. This—this is why you were the one. 

But once again, his lack of display is what reluctantly pushes you away.

Then back in.

-

It’s been three months of him not even picking up his camera. Maybe he’s just too lazy to develop his pictures, so you do it for him. There’s really no excuse. That’s what you say with light humor when you push it towards his chest, but he only cocks his head to the side. “I never asked for you to do that.”

Your stomach churns. You lick your chapped lips. “You don’t need to. I just…did it. Thought it might help get you out of your slump.”

This pushes something in him as he narrows his brows like a set of sharp knives. ���Slump?” A scoff. “What? Because I haven’t been able to get a win?”

“What?” You’re dazed. “No.” You’re confused. “No, why would you say that?” 

“I don’t know—why would you?”

“I mean it because you’ve been down, that’s it. Not because…” When his eyes don’t change, and your heart continues to pound, you flip him a smile. “You’re right. My choice of words weren’t the best. I’m sorry.”

The blue eyed boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth once, then sets the camera to his side. “Whatever, it’s fine, I guess.” And suddenly he’s making his way to his gaming room, leaving you with wide eyes and a bruised heart. 

“Wait!” Carefully, you pick up the small camera, extending it out towards him. “Wh-what do you want me to do? Should I pack it into your suitcase? Or maybe I could—”

“Pack it, yes, but into a box and put it in the attic.” He continues his march. “I lost interest a long time ago, either way.”

You’re not dazed. You’re not confused. 

You’re broken hearted.

-

You would think that you would have learned by now. He loves you, damn it. He’s just having a tough time proving it, but it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time.

“Hello, darling,” Carmen greets, pulling you away from your trance. The camera  pans over to Lance, Carlos, and Lando. She gingerly takes the spot next to you. “Feeling alright? Lost a bit of weight and color.” Her concern can’t be hidden behind even the tallest mountain. 

Been working out. London is gloomy all day long. Haven’t gotten proper Vitamin D. Looking down onto your lap, you twirl your fingers. Over and under, over and under, over and un—

Her hands feel warm against yours and you can’t help but flinch, instinctively needing to pull away, but she holds on tighter. Not even your boyfriend's hands have felt as warm as hers; not in a very long time. “You can talk to me. Anytime.” Eyes remain downward, watering, so, like most nights before bed, you blink them away. Hard, fast, and cruel. 

“Have you chosen the song you want to be for your guys’ first dance?”

She remains still for a second, focuses directly into your soul and you blink faster before she has a chance to decode you. She always did. “We have. My Funny Valentine. Hear this, Daniel wants to sing it. With a band and the whole thing. Nightmare.”

And you’re glad for having her stories to distract you from your feelings, because silly is what they are. Childish. False. It’s only until the end of the race where you two realize you hadn’t been paying attention. As soon as George walks in through those doors, he jumps up and down. “Hey. Top five!”

“That’s my boy!”

You feel like a creep watching them kiss with sweet emotion you can’t help but miss and crave. Your eyes flicker over to the flat screen T.V. and you’re shooting up from your seat. “Shit! I have to go!” 

He’s in the middle of a speech of some sort when you rush in gasping for air. Sheepishly, you wave, then scoot closer to Zak who gives you a quick side hug. Everyone claps and then he’s making his way to—

Not you. 

First it’s Zak, then he squeezes by. Then it’s his entire team. Then it’s Oscar. Then it’s Carlos, which is the last straw because he’s not even supposed to be here. “Mind if I squeeze in?” you squeak. The Spaniard shakes his head.

“Be my guest. I should leave anyway.” “Are you sure?” Lando quips. “Why don’t you stay?”

Brown pity eyes dance over to where you look down, then settle with a wobbly smile. “I, um…I actually have a few emails to respond to. Stay, Carlos.” It’s pathetic and embarrassing how he’s the only one who convinces you to stick around. Not even your own boyfriend. Though his hand remains by your side, it feels all for show, which it is because as soon as a few fans take a couple of pictures of you two, he finally retreats his arm.

Once the Ferrari driver finally jogs away, Lando turns to face you. “Where were you?”

“I was watching the race.” Your heart beats faster.

“Liar. Your lips just did the thing.” A halt. “What thing?”

“There! There it is again! You didn’t watch it, did you?”

Taking his palms into your own, you kiss them, feverishly. “I was, but then Carmen came over, and we started to talk, and then one thing led to another and…” Blue eyes stare down, empty. You grimace. “I’m so sorry, Lando. You got second place and I wasn’t there to celebrate. I’m so sorry.”

And perhaps he feels he already made you suffer enough with his ignorance, or maybe he was still high off his accomplishment, but it surprises you when he leans down to peck your forehead. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”

You let out a breath of relief. “Pinky swear.”

He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Ah, see, I don’t believe in pinky promises.”

“Take my word for it then.”

He winks. “Good enough.”

-

I can’t believe we haven’t had a sunny day in weeks! Flipping over to face him, you pout. Weeks! That’s bonkers.

The Brit hums against his blankets, against you. It’s officially been a year since you two have been dating and it honestly felt surreal. Especially in moments like these. The kind where he was just yours. 

I tried to warn you.

You groan, pressing your cheek against his firm chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, indicating he’s half asleep, indicating you were too awake. Indicating you should probably go to sleep, too. 

Guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it. 

Guess so.

You know…I sort of love it.

You say so because you haven’t lived here your whole life.

I could easily, you want to confess. If it’s with you, then yes, I can. But it’s too soon and you don’t want to scare him off. Not when things were a dream. Cloudy, sunny, rainy, sunshine—I don’t care. I have a good enough reason to stay. 

He vibrates due to his chuckle and you giggle due to his chuckle. Look at you being all cute.

Not trying to be cute, just speaking my truth. 

In one motion, he flips over you, hovering. You love it? Like truly? 

I love it. I truly love it.

Make me believe it.

Are my words not enough?

He grins, eyes crinkling. I’m more of a pinky promise type of guy.

You lift your small finger and he’s fast to wrap his own around it. Pinky swear. I love you and London.

And it was true. It was true for a while.

-

It all came crashing down on you, really. It was alarming, yet you had expected it. It was lonely, but survivable. It came in phases. You first noticed the doubt a bit after your third year anniversary, but no, he loves me. I know he does. 

But you were good at pushing it all away; far, far, and further. Until you couldn't think about it anymore, even if you tried. His acts were a suck punch, though. Everytime you started to heal and stand up, he only sent a new one. A stronger one. But, hey, no—he loves me. He only says it every night.

Like last Monday night. When he fucked you in his hotel room.

Or last Thursday. When he went down on you under the table.

Or Friday. When you sucked his cock in the shower.

All right before bed.

God, I fucking love you so much. Hot cum shoots down your throat and he groans like a madman. Love you so, so much. You can’t even begin to imagine. 

So, when your friends ask and check up on you, that's what you say. Yes, he reminds me everyday. He means it. Don’t worry, we’re doing better than ever.

The second comes in like a slap to the face. He had just done what you consider a low blow, but no—he’ll make up for it. He always does.

“Bullshit.” You blink your hot tears away. Carmen never—ever—curses. She’s too classy for any of that, so it’s almost funny to hear it now. But it’s not, not really. She sighs, rubbing her temples. You and your problems were stressing her out, God, how could you be so selfish?

“Forget I said anything. I’m being a fucking crybaby—”

“No. You’re not.” It seems like she’s choosing her choice of words, delicately. “You have every right to be upset. Every. Single. Right.”

And for the first time in a while, you feel completely seen. Heard. Understood. And that was a lot, but it must have been what you needed, because suddenly, you were spilling the ugly truth. The reason why you didn’t attend the last race. Or the one before that one. 

The reason why she and George found you clutching onto your chest that night in Vegas. Forgot my keys, you giggled. You two have fun! Don’t worry about me. 

Carmen is older, wiser, and so fucking mature. You love it. But you hate it because now that you sit here with more of an open mind and less defense, you blink like a lost kid at the grocery store. “You love him.”

A whimper. “I adore him.”

“A lot?”

“Infinitely.”

“But?”

Another whimper, louder this time, more wet. “He makes me sad sometimes. Is that normal?” “It is—” And it’s the delusion that always makes you stay. You’re quick to swallow it down, eager and fast. It’s all you need to hear. Carmen shakes her head. “But not to this extent. You get sad over them forgetting your favorite drink order, or when they forget to pack your heels.” An unwanted pause. The kind that gives you the room to overthink. “Not because they locked you out. Or because they forgot your anniversary.”

And she won’t admit—not when you were already so broken—but Lando hadn’t forgotten. 

She likes wine, fuck, she’s obsessed with that sparkly shit. Wine testing! We could go wine tasting and I could do it there. He twidles with the ring box. Is that good?

George raises a playful brow before releasing a laugh. It sounds great. As long as you have a nice place to take Instagram pictures, then you’re set to go. Chicks love that. Isn’t that right, love?

But she pinches her lips, forcing a smile to the younger Brit. Lando lets out a shaky breath. It’s about to be our four year anniversary—it’ll be perfect. I’ll make sure.

So, yes, she knows he loves you. But that still doesn’t make the way he treats you right. What kind of love was that? Sobbing loudly, you push your hair back. “But you don’t get it! When he’s good…” Her eyes soften and yours grows more glassy. “...he’s so good.”

“Is it worth the pain, though?”

-

The third one is the breaking point you had been avoiding for so long. The day started out gray, either way, and not just because of the dark London weather. Dragging your feet to the end of the bed, you tremble. You got the call at four a.m. and those are never good, so why were you shocked to hear from Benny’s son?

“Oh, baby…” He pulls you atop his lap, kissing your temple. “I know how much he meant to you.”

“I still owe him a surfboard. The expensive kind, too.” He quirks a confused brow, but you continue staring off into space. “They stole the last one. The one he always lent to me. His mom had gifted it to him.”

“When did this happen?” he questions, trying to keep you talking because that sounds like a good idea. To get your mind off things. 

You hum. “Last January; his birthday weekend.”

“Birthday weekend? I don’t recall—” “You weren’t there.” He doesn’t have to remember to know that’s true. It's become a habit of his nowadays and now he’s feeling guilty. Another hum, this time sadder than the prior. “He was going to teach you how to grill steak, just the way I like it.”

His stomach churns. “And how do you like it?” A beat. “I don’t remember. Ask Benny.” Then you’re crying like a newborn.Worse, actually. But he holds you through it all. So maybe this was do-able. He was nice, after all. You could stick with him forever and you’d be grateful. After what seems like a decade, you finally calm down, though your nose keeps runny. “The funeral is later this week. Are we going?” You were, with no fucking doubt, but you just wanted him to say it. There— on the tip of his tongue. You can spot it and he could taste it.

“Sweetheart…you know I have a race.” You didn’t expect him to drop everything and venture off with you, but this cut deep. Still, you understood. Plus, the proposal was ditched the moment you got the eerie call. So, yes, everything was unbalanced, but it wasn’t your guys’ fault. It was just a twist of fate. Nothing you couldn’t handle; you’ve dealt with worse.

“Right. I can go by myself.” He feels bad—you know he does—but anything, really? “You can write a letter, maybe? Just a couple of words for his family. I know it’ll mean a lot.”

He chuckles. And you should have known at that very moment because it wasn’t one you’ve heard before. “Why would I? I barely even knew the guy.”

“Excuse me?” 

The Brit continues tracing shapes onto your thigh. “I’m just saying! It sounds a bit weird coming from someone who spoke to him once. Twice at best.”

And you’re no longer dazed, no longer confused, no longer heartbroken. 

You’re just angry.

Pushing yourself off him, you glare coldly. “Barely even knew…the guy? We Skyped with him over dinner! You paid his bills! You fucking attended his sons wedding! How could you be so…fucked.”

“Sure… He was a sweet lad, but do you really think they want to hear from me?”

“Maybe not, maybe they don’t give a flying fuck, but I do. Remind me why I loved you!”

He’s up now. His heart quickens, pierces through his skin. “Loved?”

You sigh, clutching your chest. “Love. I said love.”

A huff. “No, you definitely spoke in past tense—do you not love me anymore?”

“Lando…” “No. Just be upfront with me, I can handle it. Tell me now so I don’t waste my time any longer.”

Every uncertainty you ever had, every word of advice Carmen has given you comes crashing down. She was right. He’s keeping you around for good fun. For his benefit. “Your time? What about mine? You’re the one who’s been blocking me out these past couple months!” “That’s not true—”

“Fuck, you’re right—this past year. God Lando! Haven’t you noticed how good I am at apologizing now? My zombie appearance? You left me out in the hallway! All because of what? Because I didn’t tell you I was going out with the girls?” A sour laugh. “Wake up—it’s 2024. Since when are you a shitty masochist?”

His jaw clenched. “I was worried about you! It was fucking Vegas, what was I supposed to do? And for the love of God, this again. I. Didn’t. Hear. You. Knock.”

A peach seed forms onto your chin. Skin is flushed and tears stream down your face. But he’s fine. He’s tall and firm Hard headed. Without an ounce of regret. And you want to do it. You want to make him feel what you’ve felt.

“I got my degree…”

“Woo-fucking-hoo, we’re not talking about that right now.”

“I lived a few good years, filled with pure happiness.”

He pauses. 

“But I see it now. Past all the gray clouds, I see it.” He can feel it coming and he’s desperate for you not to say it aloud, but you shrug it, face downward. “Nothing is holding me back to stay.”

His tone washes away like the Laguna waves as he gets closer to you, cradling your face. “Yes. Yes you do. You have me…”

“Lando, quit lying—I haven’t for a while now. I was just a trophy you didn’t want. One you got bored of.”

“That’s not—” “True?” A beat. “It is. And you know what also is? I don’t love you anymore.” The light in his eyes gave out, pitch black. He feels as if he’s going into cardiac arrest and you…you look at ease. Peaceful. Free. With a soft smile, you push his hands down. “I don’t think you love me anymore, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “Please, don’t say that. Of course I love you.” Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box you only ever dreamt of. “You want proof—here! Take it! It’s yours anyways.”

“Where was this a year ago?” Opening the velvet box, you’re left with an inaudible gasp because of course it was gorgeous. And he feels a gist of hope when you place it onto your ring finger, but he slowly pales when it doesn’t fit.

“No. No. That’s your size. I know it is.” He takes it from you, analyzing it in an accusing manner. “I swear it was, I pinky…” The heater kicks on. “I swear.”

“It’s alright. This is the right ring…just not for me.” It shouldn’t affect you to see his cheeks grow splotchy, to hear his voice tremble like a kid who just skinned his knee against the pavement. But he was once your other half, so it does. 

“I don’t want you to go…”

“I don’t either. I loved being here.”

“Then stay.” You purse your lips, then scrunch your nose. “It doesn’t love me, though. And I can’t go unwanted.”

If we start saving enough money then we could buy the house—you know—the one close enough to drive to your parents? Sweet, no?

Won’t they hear us fuck? 

Ew, gross. No. I’d tape your mouth before I let that happen. You pinch his ear. This is your home.

And SoCal is yours, so why don’t we move there?

Because I don’t want to. I want to be with you and the people you love, in the place you love. Because I love you and I love the people you love, and I love London. 

You’re quite literally perfect. I hope you know.

You make it clear everyday. 

And I won’t ever stop. Because you deserve to know.

“This place is cold, the way you said it was. This place is gloomy, the way you said it was. But this place isn’t a home to me anymore…the way I once thought it was.”

Should he have been more careful—more caring—then he wouldn’t be here. This wouldn’t be happening, but it is. And it’s no one’s fault but his.

Sniffing, you rub your swollen eyes. “I’m going to pack my things and go to Benny’s funeral.” It's a declaration. He nods, attentively. “And I’m not coming back. Is that okay?”

No. It wasn’t okay. You’re tearing him in half, you’re stabbing his heart over and over again. You’re telling the truth and putting yourself first. Something he was awful at doing. What brought you two to this very moment in time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.” I love you. “But if that’s your decision, then go on. Do what you need to do.” I love you. 

“Good.” I love you. But I can’t say it aloud if not I’d stay forever. 

You smile and he smiles back.

“Good.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[lodeddiperactivate]

Aftercare

A/N: I don't really put warnings on shorter fics unless they're full length ones, and I do have a general MDNI rule on my pinned post but I thought that this particular Rafe fic need its own set of warnings. Also, I saw the first part somewhere which then gave me the idea for the entire fic. If you know where it's from, pls let me know!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, dark!rafe but he has soft moments after sex, male receiving oral, filming sex

"You're so mean to me," you pouted at Rafe who was trying to look for a shirt to put on.

"Yeah, well you get off to it so what's your point?"

That's actually true, you thought to yourself but you also thought, wouldn't your boyfriend indulged you at least once in a while if you ask him to at least be nice for a change and maybe show some support? You decided to tease him further just as you saw Barry approaching.

"Hey Barry!" You enthusiastically called out to him. Rafe immediately shot you a look, which you responded with a smirk.

"What do you think of this new dress?" You twirled for him with so much glee you could hear and feel Rafe's blood boiling.

"Oh princess, that's such a lovely dress!" Barry exclaimed as he placed his hand on your lower back. He has always been so flirty with you and yet he's the only guy who Rafe hasn't beaten up yet.

"Why thank you, kind sir!"

"What's the special occasion?" He leaned even closer. Barry knew what you were doing. You've done this countless times, trying to make Rafe jealous so usually he would play along.

"There's no special occasion," Rafe said. "Have you got my shit?" He asked Barry obviously pissed.

"Yes, I've got your shit," Barry said, mocking Rafe. You and Barry shared a glance. He smirked at you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Go upstairs," Rafe has finally had it. "And wait there until we're done."

"Come on, country club, she can stay with us," Barry flirted.

"Yeah, maybe I can-"

"Go, now!"

You pouted and said your goodbyes to Barry before going upstairs in his room and waiting. It was a couple of minutes before you hear Barry's motorcycle. Then, footsteps coming up the stairs. You prepared yourself for whatever version of Rafe you're going to face.

As soon as he walked in the door, he walked around the bed, carefully eyeing you. You didn't know what to do so you just sat there.

"Is that what you want? To whore yourself in front of Barry?"

"Oh come on, that's not what I was doing," you said as you stood up and walked towards him.

He pushed you back with so much force that you landed back on the bed.

"Ow! Rafe, what the-"

Rafe quickly wrapped his hands around your neck, his face inches away from yours, breathing heavily down on you as he slowly tightened his grip. You started to choke but could not help noticed the wetness starting to pool down below.

As if reading your mind, Rafe used his other hand to feel just how wet you are. He brought his hand down to rub the fabric of your panties before lifting it up to taste you. He smirked at you and pushed you back on the bed with so much force. He started taking his shirt off and his pants, so you naturally and instinctively took your clothes off as well but Rafe stopped you.

"You're not gonna cum unless I want you to," as he grabbed you by the hair and brought you to your knees. His cock inches away from your face. "You know what to do."

You sucked him out of fear, out of lust, out of excitement, who knows? What you knew is that Rafe had a grin plastered on his face the whole time.

"I knew you were a slut but damn, I believe you may also be a masochist," he said as he leaned closer so that your faces are inches away from one another.

"Open." You opened your mouth. "Stick your tongue out," which you did. Rafe then spit in your mouth and you swallowed. "At least I know there's one thing you would obey," he said as you proceeded to suck him.

"Please," you breathed. You needed some kind of friction that you started rubbing your clit while sucking him off.

Rafe smirked at you, took out his phone, and started taking a video of you sucking him while you're rubbing your clit. "Yeah, you're gonna whore yourself out to Barry. Well, maybe I'll send this lovely video to him so he can jerk off to it."

That statement made you moaned through Rafe's cock. You fingered yourself quickly and took as much as you can of Rafe, his full length.

"Oh? You like that huh?" You tried to reply but your mouth was full.

"I know you," Rafe said as he had chunks of your hair in a grip. "I know what you want, what makes you wet," he said as you feel him jerk in your mouth, you know he's close to cumming. "I know everything about you, and you're mine," Rafe groaned as he cummed all over your mouth. "Mine," he said as he grunted, disposing his seed into your mouth.

You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and the sheer force Rafe had used on you. You couldn't help it as you drifted off to sleep right then and there.

When you woke, you noticed it was night time and the room was dimly lit. You also noticed that you were now wearing different clothes, comfier ones. They were Rafe's, an oversized shirt and boxer shorts. You were no longer wearing your panties.

On the bedside table, there is a glass of water and some of your favorite chocolates. Your favorite scent was on the diffuser, and the blinds were already drawn. For a moment, you completely forgot where you are and what happened earlier.

"Hey," Rafe said softly as he poked his head through the door. He then came in with a sandwich on a plate and some soda.

"Hey," you croaked. He smirked as he set the tray beside you. "I see you're still sore from earlier, yeah?"

You didn't respond, you tried to move your body and realized that he was right, your entire body was sore.

"Did I fall asleep after?"

Rafe cuddled beside you, pulling you closer, and stroking your hair. You were so tired that you naturally leaned in and rested your head on his chest.

"Yes, you did." Rafe said, you detected a hint of guilt in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry if I was too rough."

"You were kinda rough, but it's okay baby," you assured him. He wasn't convinced. He turned to face you and looked you in the eye, "I never want to hurt you, got that?"

"I know," you kissed him and smiled at him.

"And to show you I'm serious, I am going to be 100% nice to you!"

"But then you wouldn't be the Rafe I fell in love with?"

OBX masterlist

[galedekarios]

gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded. female pronouns.

In all your focus on becoming strong enough to protect yourself and not be a burden to others, it hadn’t occurred to you that as a Demon Slayer, you’d be receiving a paycheck. 

A fat one at that.

You’re not exactly sure what to do with it. The envelope had shown up, slipped below the door of your lodgings at the Ubuyashiki mansion with your name on it, and while you’re not completely sure what the conversion rate + inflation would be, the sheer size of the stack was enough to make you quite confident that it was a lot of money. The issue is, you have very little use for money as you receive meals and board by virtue of Kagaya’s kindness, and the things you would buy if you could don’t particularly exist in this timeline. 

As you sit on your futon and think again about what it would mean to save and how banking would work in this timeline, and if it’s even worth it given your particular circumstances, a sudden flash of Tanjiro’s smile comes to mind, and you immediately know what to do.

You should buy him a gift. After all, you wouldn’t have gotten through your first mission if not for Tanjiro, you consider, your face warming as you consider what things you’ve seen him receive that delighted him the most. Then you consider that perhaps a gift is too presumptuous, and you see him happy when he has a nice meal, or perhaps you could get something nice for both him and Nezuko because that wouldn’t look too strange, plus he’s happy when she’s happy, or perhaps you could-

Your thought spiral is interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door. Two gentle raps, and then you hear his voice.

Think of an angel and he will appear.

“___, are you busy today?”

When you ignore your slightly quickened heartbeat to let him in, he looks just like the picture in your mind’s eye, sweet, practically glowing with warmth, save for the fact that you notice his hair is slightly damp and his skin dewy as if he’s just bathed. He’s wearing his Demon Slayer uniform but with his regular green and black checked haori over top and his sword is at his side as though he plans to travel. He smells good, and you hope you smell at least decent to him, too.

You shake your head no. 

“Are you planning on going somewhere? Did you get a new mission?” you ask. 

“No, I wanted to know…” he pauses for a moment, then scratches the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling, “if you wanted perhaps to go out to town with me. I was hoping to congratulate you for your first mission.”

You blink twice. He really is always one step ahead of you, you realize. 

Tanjiro lets his hand fall to the side and nods at you, now with a steadier expression. “You did a really great job.”

To this, you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“You mean by staying alive while you cleaned up?” you ask. Tanjiro decides to indulge in your humor, insisting, “It wasn’t all me.” he insists. 

Perhaps that much is true. Tanjiro is a good friend and mentor so it’s not odd that he would extend this kindness first. It’s also an opportunity it would be best to seize, treating him to udon or dango, and offering him some gratitude as well. 

Your mind may shift from time to time to the time he used his own mouth to suck turbulent air from your unnatural breathing technique out of your own lungs, but he is simply a friend.

And friends can hang out. 

—

“It’s a beautiful fit,” the shop owner says as you slip on a peach pink jacket with colorful embroidered petals and blossoms, the last of the four you’ve tried on to Tanjiro’s surprising patience, and glance at yourself in the mirror. 

Something about this entire scene feels wrong but also right to you. For one, you’re not the one who suggested this particular shop - rather it was Tanjiro who insisted you consider window shopping with him, under the guise of finding something for Nezuko, but soon you’d realized that he hadn’t exactly picked anything out, content to watch you leaf through hung designs and listen to the shopkeeper’s promise of superior quality compared to the other stores in the district. You consider that whatever would look good on you would look good on Nezuko and with each trying on of a jacket, you offer pros and cons.

This one is a bit airy and light, very comfortable for summer time.

I think this one might clash with her hair color.

The texture’s too thick here, I’m not sure I like this one as much but it’s very high quality, I can tell.

This last one however is simply perfect in feel and design, and you feel somewhat bad when you turn to Tanjiro and sheepishly say,

“This one is super pretty. I know we’re shopping for Nezuko but I think I might buy this one for myself.” Tanjiro smiles as he rises from the chair in the corner. He’s sat politely for the past few minutes saying very little except nodding appreciatively.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he states as casually as if he were describing the weather, then turns to the older lady running the shop, the same lady who had spent a few minutes glancing between him and you as well, and you’d pretended not to notice. 

“How much?” Tanjiro asks. 

Surprised, you wonder if he hadn’t heard you.

The seamstress names her price and Tanjiro is quick to give money, before you finally hold in your need to be polite and nudge him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He’s unfazed as he hands money over, then smiles at you.

“Buying you a gift.”

“You don’t have to…” you start, but trail off as the woman receiving the money shoots you a dirty look that has you fall silent.

“You’re right, I don’t have to. But I would like to,” he adds.

You leave the shop promptly with a parcel in your hand and the seamstress’ eyes on your back.

—

Perhaps you do look like a couple, even if that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Tanjiro won’t let you treat him to any of the food, insisting you save your money instead through bites of skewered meat and noodles, and you finally find out which bakery supplies the Castella he brings by for you and your friends, as well as the girls at the Butterfly Mansion.

It’s better than anything you’ve tasted in your time, even if you practically choke on a roll when the baker tells you Tanjiro is lucky to be in the company of a pretty girl.

In your own time, you’ve been called pretty before, but this description today strikes at the very pit of your stomach, filling it with butterflies. Does Tanjiro know that you’re pretty? Does he agree? You ponder this for a few moments, then you’re immediately embarrassed to be thinking something so childish. 

Whether you’re pretty or not is moot. To him, you’re a younger sister to whom he buys gifts and food. Perhaps more pathetic since you are not related, since you have no one else, since you’re trapped here.

Tanjiro doesn’t answer the question you’ve posed in your head out loud, but he grins.

“I’m quite lucky indeed.”

—

As you walk side by side at the close of the evening, Tanjiro enthuses you in your progress, and you talk about all and nothing. There are red bean paste buns in your hand that you chew on idly between thoughts.

You’re not sure how the day went by so quickly, not while you were parallel processing, doing mental math to figure out what he thinks of you - as friend, as someone to dote on like a child, as someone who he could potentially…

No, that cannot possibly be it.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks. His cheeks are a warm pink and he’s looking straight ahead rather than at you, but his shoulders are relaxed and he bites and chews as he waits for your answer.

“Of course, I did,” you tell him. “This is…,” you pause, then continue, “probably the first time I’ve been anywhere nice, just for fun, since I got to this place.” Admitting it feels strange, but it’s true. Your life has now been limited to the mansion and towns you don’t know. Duty-driven, despair-driven, danger-driven. 

Tanjiro looks at you for a moment, and for just a moment his look is wistful. 

“Are you happy here?” he asks. Your mouth opens then closes, and then he quickly catches himself in a nervous laugh.

“Probably a stupid question, given none of your family is here, and you don’t have any of your technology and it’s not even your country and-”

You squeeze his hand for a moment.

“I’m happy now,” you offer him, then let go quickly. “Thank you for spending time with me.”

His mouth opens for a moment, and you wonder if you overstepped but he beams, and you wonder what you’d do without this small friendship.

“We should go back,” you quickly fill in before he can say something else and you can regret touching him. You’re the first to take a few steps forward, practically skipping, snacks and new clothing in hand, and you hear him behind you catching up.

“Yeah, let’s get you home safe.”

[saintsugu]

PLAY TIME; KINKTOBER DAY 5

rating: mature; mdni

pairing; yuuji itadori / ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k

content warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+, apocalypse au, vague horror (aka it’s kind of creepy), vaginal penetration, all of the explicit sex is with sukuna, manhandling, true-form sukuna, monster fucking (two cocks // four arms), non con, sadomasochism, slight dacryphilia, dvp, usage of pet, bellybulge, unprotected sex, cumflation, alluding to cucking

Author’s note: super unedited. i’m really proud of this fic + the idea as a whole, but i’m really proud of the fact that I got the last 2/3k done in about 1.5 hrs. please enjoy the last piece of 2023’s Kinktober!<3

Today, the forest is ominously quiet—even more so than usual. Dead leaves crunch underneath your boot with every step and it makes your skin crawl; not to mention how freezing cold it is. How did you even end up out here alone to begin with? 

Letting out a shaky breath, which is painfully visible, you try to tug your sleeves down to cover your numb hands. As you’re in the process of doing so, the frightening noise of a twig snapping has your hand instead finding your knife on instinct. 

It could be an animal, but it’s not likely. Given the time of year, most are hibernating, and those that aren’t have already been skinned and cooked. 

You turn around yet are met with nothing except the forest from which you came. With the trees being as crowded together as they are, it’s easy for someone to hide, so your guard isn’t exactly down just yet. 

After many excruciating minutes of silence, a voice speaks and you’re too terrified to realize who it is. Unsheathing your blade, you take a step behind you and are ready to hit whoever may be in front of you. 

“Hey, stop, it’s me!”

Yuuji catches your wrist within moments of impact. Despite his desire to always be gentle with you, the current predicament required a bit of force from his end and you couldn’t help but wince before releasing the knife. The blade clatters against the stones below you and you sigh so loud in relief that you’re sure the entire forest could hear it. 

Your eyes soften and you press your head against his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was you.” The statement is fairly obvious, yet you still feel the need to clarify that you didn’t mean to try and stab your boyfriend, rather than the stalker you figured he was. 

“Don’t be,” you can feel his hand intertwining with yours and it makes you feel safe. “Let’s go home. I already carved out a path for us, I was just looking for you.”

The trek back to the cabin is short but a bit steep. Yuuji’s holding onto you tightly the entire trip. The grip on your hand aids in making you feel a little more at peace despite the eerie crawl of the woods.  

The cold weather has been well appreciated. Both you and Yuuji find it much easier to layer up and use blankets, rather than deal with turning the generator on fully to keep cool. The way you have it now, you’re able to keep it on for a few hours at a time—just enough for you to shower and do whatever else requires electricity, before shutting it off. There are only a few downsides to the chilling temperatures; one of which, being the fog that occupies the forest. 

It completely limits visibility; that’s nice if you’re holed up in the cabin, but when you’re out scavenging? Horrible. You can’t even see two feet in front of you.  

“Be careful. Step over,” he carefully directs you, quiet as he grips your hand a little tighter. It’s how you know you’ve arrived home. You’re careful to raise your feet and make sure you don’t bump against the fence that Yuuji had staked into the ground. 

The wiring itself isn’t awfully thick, but it keeps most animals away; not to mention that it’s main function is sound purposes. Along the wires, there are different cans and bells that will rattle if the fence is at all bumped or tugged. It’s a good method to keep you and Yuuji up worrying all night. 

It’s so cold. Your words are barely above a  whisper, hands shivering slightly as the cabin comes into view. You can nearly hear the frown in Yuuji’s voice when he tells you that you’re almost there. He’s been very….overprotective of you, to say the least. It’s not like you can blame him, though. The world is scary now. 

“Close it a little softer next time.” You can’t help but teasingly scold your partner as you step into the warm home. 

“But I wanted to shut it before the wind picked up.” It’s cute, the way he snickers at you before moving towards the fireplace. “You should change into something clean while I start the fire.” 

You had planned to already, so you have no issue bouncing towards your shared room to change your clothes. When you return back, Yuuji has busied himself with the fireplace.

Moments like this are nice. Those times, no matter how brief they may be, where you get to watch your boyfriend clumsily set the logs on fire. The simplicity of it all nearly makes you forget the world right outside of your door that has gone to hell. 

It’s just you and the boy occupying the cabin. At different points, people have come and gone, but it’s been a long time since you’ve met eyes with anyone other than Yuuji. A man by the name Megumi stayed with you for a bit, nearly six months, actually, before taking his leave in search of his father. The rest, you’ve long forgotten their names. It’s quite…sad, actually. You spend a lot of nights wondering about their whereabouts. 

“You like what you see?” He teases. His palms are pressed against the floor behind him, lanky limbs spread out a bit as he uses his locked out arms to hold him up. 

“Oh always,” you nearly giggle. He never fails at finding a way to cheer you up. 

Eventually, he stands up to help you make some food. It’s nothing special, really. You just boil rice over the fire and cook it with some canned chicken that Yuuji managed to find on a run last week. 

Food has been getting harder to manage as of late. Thankfully, when this started, there was already a large pantry full of non-perishable food inside the cabin. Even with that being said, it’s been years and supplies are depleting rapidly. Between the two of you, you surprisingly don’t eat much, so it’s easier to ration better, but with less than half of the supplies left, you can’t help but worry. 

“It’s good,” he says, taking a bite. He’s leaned against the wall across from you—you’re both still keeping warm near the fireplace. 

If it weren’t for the bitter temperatures, you would’ve probably sat at the large, oak table in the dining room— a table that’s much too big for only the two of you —but with the crisp and cold air, you opted to eat on the floor in favor of the warmth. 

It’s sweet but it makes you laugh a little. He always tries to make you feel better, no matter what the topic at hand is; he’s like a man consoling his wife. “If it wasn’t, I’d be worried. Takes a lot of work to fuck up rice and chicken,” you say playfully. 

“Better than I could do.” His laughter is contagious. It fills the air the same as it fills your lungs. The pure joy you feel when hearing it, spreads through your entire being as your lips curl into a smile of their own. “I’m serious!” He grins even wider. “Gramps used to make all my meals for the most part.”

“‘Dunno how you got this far like that.” You’re laying on your stomach while you tease him. Your body is nearly perpendicular with the wall, but the side of your head rests against a pillow. Having already finished your meal, you have nothing better to do than shamelessly stare at your lover. 

The sound of the fire crackling mixes with the boy’s voice and fills the room. It all feels so cozy that it makes you forget what awaits you outside of that small wire fence. He makes it easy to forget—or to ignore, for better lack of words. 

When you’re staring into his eyes, it’s easy to pretend like you’re unaware of the storm raging outside. As if you don’t know the world is burning the same way the shriveled firewood has. 

Once he finishes his bowl, you find it as a perfect chance to straddle his lap. With your legs spread, your knees press into the plush carpeting. The moment can only be described as intimate as your foreheads touch. 

“I love you.” It’s a quiet affirmation that you both repeat at the same time. The repetition causes you both to laugh, before he silences you with a soft kiss. “My girl,” he whispers. 

Slow kisses begin to get more desperate as his hands roam your body. He’s in nothing more than a black tank top, and a pair of thin pajama pants that are too baggy for him. It gives you easy access as you kiss his neck, uncaring of how you do so; it’s not like anyone will see. 

For the rest of the night, Yuji conveys just how much he loves you. Your time spent together consists of limbs messily intertwining as he has his way with you on the floor. Despite having full control over a willing partner, Yuuji is still so sweet and kind to you. He may accidentally overestimate his strength and manhandle you slightly, but he always tries his hardest to not hurt you in any way. 

He brings you to the edge more times than you would have ever imagined and he’s a bit more…clingy than usual—not that you mind, of course. You just hadn’t realized how scared he had gotten when you got seperated in the forest. He definitely did a good job of hiding it from you. 

After cleaning up and triple-checking that the doors are locked and the windows are still boarded up, you make your way into the bedroom. You feel extremely safe and secure as you lay beside him. An arm draped over your side as he pulls you close into his chest. 

“Goodnight,” he whispers softly. You swear that your name has never sounded sweeter than when it’s dripping off his tongue. 

Thanks to his comforting touch, you’re asleep within minutes. 

— three years ago. 

Run. Keep running. Don’t stop. 

Those words repeat through your head on a loop. They got louder and louder the more you felt your body start to slow. You’re running out of energy. As much as you wish it could, even your sudden burst of adrenaline isn’t enough to combat your starvation and dehydration. 

You feel like you’ve been running for days—like some wild animal that’s being hunted down. Every time you try to take a breath, they’re on your heels again. 

Nearly 3 weeks ago, you had stumbled upon a small group. They offered you food and shelter, in return for manual labor. Due to your starved state, you didn’t think to ask many questions before taking the water they offered you and mindlessly agreeing. 

Unfortunately, what you had hoped to be a new companionship, turned out to be psychopaths trying to force you to kill unsuspecting people. They would track down homes and kill whoever resided in them. You tried to sneak out, but they caught on and were quick to chase after you. 

It’s been over a week of this little chase, and you can barely stand. You’re beginning to wonder if running is even worth it, at this point. 

Despite seeing it, your brain doesn’t fully process the branch in the path until after you’ve tripped over it. You have absolutely no time to recover as you fall straight towards the dirt. 

“Shit,” you curse, feeling thorns poking against you. As you lie on the ground, exhaustion setting in even more so now than before, your inner monologue morphs. 

Get up. 

You’re nearly screaming at yourself. Every part of your body feels heavy. No matter how hard you will yourself to get back on your feet, you’re rendered incapable. 

The approach sound of footsteps confirms that this is the end. Once they find you, they’ll kill you without a second thought. At least I tried. It’s the last thought that runs through your brain as the footsteps get louder and everything goes dark. 

It’s quiet. You like it. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so…at peace. 

“You’re awake.” The voice sounds panicked but…happy? 

You’re quick to shoot up, but you’re surprised when your hands move freely. If they didn’t kill you, you had at least expected them to restrain you somehow. Yet, when you look around the room, it’s so unfamiliar. 

“…who are you? A-are you with them?” You feel weak at the stammer in your voice, but it can’t be helped. Despite his soft features, you’re terrified of the man sitting across from you. 

It’s clear that he’s confused, but you still aren’t convinced. “With who? When I found you, you were unconscious in the dirt.”

That doesn’t make sense. Did they…stop looking for me?

You nearly ask again, but you’d rather not be questioned about why you were running. If he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it when you were knocked out cold. There’s no reasonable explanation for him to bring you back to his home and do it there. 

“I’m Yuuji,” he says and you can tell that he’s worried he’ll upset you. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It didn’t take long for you to warm up to him after that. You truly had nowhere else to go, so you slept in the guest room of his cabin for months, until one day, things took a bit of a…different route. 

“How’d you find this cabin anyways, Yu’?” Your voice is a bit higher than usual as you lean against the plush couch. On his latest supply run, the boy brought back a good amount of alcohol and you both agreed that it’d be a shame to let it go to waste. 

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, words a bit slurred. “It was my Gramps’. Been in the family since before I was born. It was my family’s designated rendezvous place—we all kind of picked it as a joke but,” he pauses. The silence is deafening as you hang on his words. “I was the only one who made it here.”

Your expression drops. Neither of you had attempted to ask about the other’s families in the months you’ve known each other, finding it a bit of a personal topic to bring up at random, but now, considering you’re both tipping over the edge from the alcohol…your filters are a little less engaged. 

“It’s okay, though,” he takes a sip of his beer as he plasters a fake grin onto his face. He pauses, before his face turns sour. Initially, you believe that he’s about to open up, add on to what he said, but you quickly stand corrected when he bolts up and starts to walk— no, run off. 

“Yuuji?” You call after him as he disappears from your view. Due to the drinks, your reaction time is a bit sluggish, so it takes a minute before you’re up and following him. Once you finally follow him into the open bathroom, you find him hunched over the toilet and it suddenly makes sense. 

His beer can is on the floor, its contents pooling around the base of the toilet as Yuuji uses his forearms to keep himself stable. He doesn’t throw up much, mostly just coughing and gagging— Still, the sight brings up a few…unpleasant memories and the sounds alone make a melancholic feeling settle in your chest. 

“Do you want some water?” You offer, but he shakes his head.

“Stay here.” It’s a simple request. His words are slurred, but the look in his droopy eyes tells you he means it. He rests his head against his right forearm, staring directly at you as he tries to regain his strength. 

Eventually, you settle onto the floor a few feet away from him. With your back against the door, you curl your knees up to your chest and just wait for him to feel better. A few minutes pass, neither of you would really be able to count how many, but he finds himself leaning against the bathtub rather than the toilet. 

“’m glad I found you,” he says quietly, voice hoarse from coughing so much. “I was kind of going crazy all by myself. I swore I started hearing things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. 

It’s so peculiar to you how Yuuji is so…positive. Even now, drunk and hunched over a toilet bowl, he finds it in him to laugh. You don’t have it in you to tell him that you’re happy to— cause that would require admitting that you care about him. 

“What were you doing before all this?” You ask him curiously, trying to change the subject. It’s something you’ve wondered for a long time yet never found a way to bring it up. 

“I was just a college student,” he laughs a bit, the skin of his eyes creasing at the thought. “I delivered pizzas when I could. Did some odd jobs, too. Like…landscaping for my grandpa’s neighbors and shit. What about you?”

“Just bartending,” you nod, thinking back to those simple times. “It was good money.”

The two of you sit and talk like that for a little longer, until Yuuji eventually starts to doze off. As cute as he looks as his eyes flutter shut, you know better than to let him sleep there. “C’mon, let's get you to bed,” you say softly, helping him stand up. 

“You’re so sweet,” he murmurs, half asleep and still inebriated as he leans against you. You’re practically dragging him towards the bedroom with his arm around your shoulder. “And pretty too. ‘M so happy we found you…”

That night and in that moment, you were too hung up on him calling you pretty to acknowledge the we in his words; or maybe you did notice, but it was subconsciously easier to just…chalk it off as a slip of the tongue. 

—

You’re drenched in sweat as you suddenly wake up, body practically launching away from the bed. You press your palm to your chest, feeling the way your heart is beating at an inhumane rate. 

For the past few weeks, you’ve been having vivid nightmares. Usually, they’re all similar; all having to do with you being taken or something of the sort. Tonight’s dream was a bit different. 

You were in the cabin, but nothing was working. The boards were off the windows, the fireplace wouldn’t light, and the generator wouldn’t work. Thankfully, you woke up before anything bad could truly happen, but waking up was bad in and of itself, considering the bed is empty with Yuuji nowhere to be found.  

“…Baby?” You call out nervously, leaning over to turn your bedside lamp on. You were hoping that he was just in the bathroom, but that hope is quickly squashed when he doesn’t call back. 

With a stuttered sigh, your legs swing over the side of the bed as you prepare to search for your lover.  Shaking hands sift through your drawer, pushing around objects you forgot existed, before landing on a thick flashlight. It illuminates the room, making your eyes widen in a weak attempt to adjust to the light. 

Your footsteps are light and cautious against the creaking wood and it’s a scene straight from a horror movie. Once on the stairs, you can hear something creaking— a door or a window— but when you get in the kitchen, you can’t seem to find anything.

Timid as a mouse, your voice is quiet as you call out for Yuuji. There’s no response, of course not, but as you begin to speak again, you’re very quickly disrupted. 

A thick hand wraps around your face, easily covering your lips and practically suffocating you as his fingertips dig into your cheekbones. Panic bubbles out of your throat, eyes wide with adrenaline, yet as you go to scream, another hand finds its place around your throat. 

“Don’t scream.” A dark and eerily familiar sound pierces your ear. It’s a contorted and dark version of a voice you hear every day. “Or you could, but who’ll find you?” He mocks sadistically. 

Your head is yanked back, nearly giving you whiplash as it makes contact with the man’s chest. You feel as though you’re about to hurl. The panic is presenting itself clear in the form of bile in your throat, and the fear in the form of tears. 

“I’ve sat on the sidelines for too fucking long.”

Another hand begins to tug at your flimsy pajama shorts— wait, another hand…?

Looking down in absolute horror, you’re greeted by a third arm tussling at your clothes. You’re convinced you’re going insane, but it’s so real. At this point, with dead people walking around, nothing should surprise you, but even so, you can’t help the way your eyes widen in horror at the side of multiple sets of arms. 

You’re far too distraught to even register the way the fabric tears at your thigh, completely ripping apart with a flick of his hand. The lump in your throat grows, making your mouth dry as you struggle to speak. 

“W-who are you?” 

The man behind you just laughs— a deeply disturbing sound as it vibrates throughout the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, just grabs your waist with one of four hands and begins to drag you; where exactly, you aren’t sure.

Amongst the laughter, he covers your eyes as he manhandles you away. He’s keeping your sight obscured until you can ‘properly see me’, as if it’s some sort of game. It’s terrifying.

It feels like the wind is knocked out of you with how roughly he’s shoving you against a hard surface— your table, you soon realize. He maneuvers you as if you’re some kind of doll and gets you laying onto the table before your vision is finally returned. He retracts two out of four hands; keeping them only on your waist and throat. 

Your heart drops when you finally see the man in front of you. It’s Yuuji— your Yuuji, but his body is deformed. He’s much taller and stockier for starters. He’s missing the lean figure that you’ve grown to adore. Instead, he’s towering over you ever more, with an extra pair of arms sprouting from his midsection. One of the most disturbing parts, though, are the second and third eyes. They’re placed directly under his regular eyes, but they’re half the size. It makes you want to throw up. 

“What? You don’t like seeing your baby Yuuji?” he imitates you with a sadistic grin.

You’re shuddering in fear, throat constricted just enough to let you speak. “You are not my Y-Yuuji,” you stammer, shaking like a goddamn leaf. 

He just laughs, tugging at your panties. Even with you desperately squeezing your thighs together, he rips them apart with ease. “You’re right, I’m not. Yuuji couldn’t fuck you properly even if someone was telling him how.”

What is he talking about? Who is this?

“And trust me, I tried,” he says, like he’s exasperated as he rips your panties off. “Every time I talk to him, he just ignores me. Little brat.” He’s muttering to himself as thick hands pry your legs apart.

“Please, don’t,” your voice shakes, resorting to your seemingly last option of begging whoever this imposter is. “I-I’ll give you anything else just don’t…” you can’t even speak it out loud. You know what he wants to do to you— what he’s about to do. 

Your pleading is met with a loud, and mocking laugh. “You look so cute like that; all helpless and crying. You humans have always looked best like that.” It makes sense. You would’ve never described him as human. You don’t know where he’s going with this tangent, but his voice soon drops an octave and answers your question. 

“Do you really think I’m gonna pass up the chance to get what I’ve been craving for so long? Why, because of a few tears?” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until then, but now that you know, the dams are releasing. 

“W-who are you?” Sure, he’s claimed to be Yuuji, but it’s clear that you aren’t falling for that. His eyes zero on your cunt as thick fingers begin to prod at your folds. None of the movements make sense and it’s clearly not for your pleasure. It feels more as if he’s just inspecting it.

It’s been a long time since he’s been let out to play, after all.

“Call me Sukuna, Doll.” His words are eerily dark before he roughly shoves a finger into your cunt. For the most part, you’re fairly dry, but he knows that he can change that; and he knows that it won’t take him long, either. Humans are simple creatures. 

Tears slip out of your eyes faster, only fueling him on even more as he starts to finger fuck you. His fingers are a lot thicker than the slender digits that you’ve gotten used to. It hurts but it also..feels good? You hate even thinking that, but you can’t deny the physical pleasure you’re experiencing despite the mental anguish alongside it. 

“You’re wet,” he obnoxiously observes, uncaring of the way it makes you squirm. “Do my fingers feel that good? Or are you just used to Yuuji treating you like glass?” You don’t respond, instead opting to turn your head away. 

A third finger slips in and you swear that it’s already the equivalent of your boyfriend’s cock. “I always told him that he needed to be rougher. The little brat wouldn’t listen but I knew better; I know that girls like you just want to be treated like whores.”

As the pad of his fingers press into your g-spot, you finally let out a moan. It’s whiney and high pitched and out of fucking nowhere. In all of the times he’s listened in on you and Yuuji having sex— which has been every time — he’s never heard a noise like that leave your lips. It has his ego inflating even further. 

Immediately, you’re trying to bring a hand to your lips, trying so hard to muffle the noises that keep seeping out like a waterfall. Still, it’s no use once Sukuna catches onto what you’re doing. A large hand overpowers your own as he pins it against the hard table. 

“Don’t do that,” he demands, a sick grin on his face. “I want him to hear.” Him? Yuuji can hear?

You’ve been far too scared to put together all of Sukuna’s implications. Too riddled with fear to even think about if Yuuji knew that this demon was living inside of him. Even so, from everything he’s said, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

It doesn’t take much longer for his patience to break. With one hand still buried inside of your cunt, two others are undoing his sweats. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight you see next. 

Not only is his cock considerably bigger than Yuuji’s, but there’s two of them. 

With panic spreading through your body, you’re very quickly trying to scramble away. “T-those can’t—“ you’re stammering, body attempting to crawl away from him and up the table. Even with you slipping away, he’s trying to line one of his cocks up. “Those can’t go inside of me. Y-you’re fucking crazy,” you curse, mind reeling just at the thought of him trying to jam just one of those things inside of you. 

“Stay fucking still,” he barks, yanking you back down and right onto his dick. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and your eyes begin to roll back. With your lips parted in an O, he finds himself groaning at the feeling of your tight heat and the sight of your oh so beautiful face twisted up in both pleasure and pain. 

With a deep groan vibrating his entire chest, he bottoms out inside of you. He feels impossibly deep as he nestles inside of you. Your nails scrape against the wooden surface, and your back arches. Your entire body is being overwhelmed by the intense pain he’s causing, yet you can’t deny the element of pleasure that’s mixed in. 

You would’ve never mentioned it to him, but Yuuji did always treat you like glass. He was always a bit too kind and a bit too gentle. It felt good, just not…intense.

“Sukuna,” you nearly scream the name, hips stuttering as you try to not cum right then. He’s pushing your knees up to your chest, leaning forward to get a good look at the pathetic puddle he’s turned you into, as he fucks you roughly. 

“You sound good saying my name, pet,” he laughs, thrusting deep into you as his second  cock rests above your stomach. “I always knew you would.”

The two of you stay like that for awhile— Sukuna fucking you within an inch of your life, and you taking it like some sort of rag doll. It doesn’t take much longer for you to cum. With the length of his second cock rubbing against your clit, you’re easily overstimulated until you're squirting all over him. 

That’s another thing you’ve never done with Yuuji. It feels so dirty and twisted, but fuck, you can’t deny how good this monster is making you feel. His cock is reaching places you didn’t think possible and it’s driving you insane. 

After what feels like forever, Sukuna’s finally starting to pull out. You’re practically half-conscious at this point. Your body is lolled out on the table, limply laying there as you stare up at him with lidded eyes. 

You watch as his, seemingly permanent, grin widens, and you don’t fully understand why it is, until you feel something else prodding at your hole. He’s not…is he?

For the nth time tonight, your eyes widen at the sight of him trying to push his other cock into your pussy beside the one that’s already there. 

“S-Sukuna it won’t fit, it won't—“

“Will you ever learn to shut up?” He snarls, starting to push in. Thankfully for him, two cocks is a quick way to get you to quiet down. You’re far too preoccupied with getting stretched beyond your limits to worry about talking back. 

It feels like you’re going to explode at any given time. It’s just too much. You could barely fit what was in you before, let alone double. Your eyes twitch due to how hard they’re rolling. 

Finally, as you begin to regain some semblance of control over your body, you try to refocus your vision. Your eyes land on Sukuna once more, studying how he begins to look less like Yuuji the longer this goes on. He’s beginning to morph into his own self. It’s weird and creepy and you want it to stop.

Drifting away in search of something else to latch onto, your eyes find another thing to focus on. This one, though, is much more alarming. 

A thick bulge can be seen poking through your skin in the shape of his cock. You watch in absolute horror as it moves in tandem with his hips. 

“You little humans,” he purrs. “All so fragile. Look at that…” once his hand goes to trace the bulge and you finally see just how large his hands really are. “Look how deep inside of you I am. C’mon,” he taps your cheek, trying to pull you from your dazed state. “You can’t fall asleep yet.”

He doesn’t even give you the chance to say something in response. Instead, he begins to fuck you at a rough pace. Not as fast as earlier, but a lot deeper. With each stroke, you find yourself crying out his name and reeling from the pleasure he’s providing. It’s sick and insane that you’re finding any aspect of this enjoyable, let alone all of it. Every single movement has you one step closer to cumming. 

 By the time Sukuna’s emptying both of his cocks inside of you and filling you to the brim with cum, you’ve already hit your climax two additional times. You’re completely dazed over at this point, barely even conscious, and definitely not aware enough to notice how swollen your tummy is due to the copious amount of cum he dumped inside of you. 

He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but he’s letting out a deep sigh. The deal he and Yuuji made was that he got to fuck you once and only until he came. He has a feeling Yuuji won’t allow him any other fun than that, especially since it’s going to be hard enough trying to convince you this was a nightmare or whatever other bullshit he’ll try to feed you. 

“Okay, brat,” he mutters, pressing down lightly on the bulge and watching you haphazardly squirm. “I’m done now. Let’s go.”

One. Two. Three. 

Nothing comes. No one switches. 

A devilish grin finds Sukuna’s face once more. 

“God, you’re such a little pervert,” he laughs. “You want to watch me fuck her brains out again, don’t you, Yuuji?” Even with no response, he knows he’s right. 

His hand strokes your cheek gently, before roughly grabbing your jaw, scaring you but not enough to jolt you awake.

“Seems like we get to have some more fun, Doll.”

tagging: @enchantedforest-network , @themovingcastlez , @hannzai , @pussydrunkfyodor , @chaoticmoonave , @kkittycries , @dilfhos , @saintriots , @suyacho , @princess-okkotsu

[spookypete-94]

NSFW Task Force 141 smut thoughts/brain rot below

I had a night with my husband that led to a conversation that I felt was relatable and now I can't stop myself from the little thoughts below.

Thinking about a night out with 141, and a surprising twist in conversation letting them know that it's hard for you to come.

TW for language.

Not even sure how the conversation got to you from the four men that were talking amongst themselves on a night out, but it for sure had.

"I dunno," you muttered out. Four sets of eyes on you making you look down at your glass in embarrassment. "Just hard sometimes. Can't every time, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. Something wrong with me I guess."

At the end of the night they had all formed a wordless pact or bet depending how you looked at it. Planning on showing you that indeed there is nothing wrong with you, just how the last "boys" had fucked you.

Price

Takes the longest to make you come. Not because he sees it as a race, but this man makes love to you. He takes his time to worship you, foreplay his entire forte. In reality, he almost edges you, showing you you can indeed get close, only to take it away. The prize? The hardest shake and squeeze your body ever gives, making you feel like you're going to go blind from coming so hard.

"Mmmm, look at that. Nothin' wrong with you, just didn't have partners that knew what to do with ya'." He'd grumble over top of you, beard and rumbling voice in your ear.

Ghost

Is the man that gives you the most orgasms. He is relentless in what he gives you. Whether from eating you out for what feels like and probably is hours, legs forced and pinned up and locked on his shoulders. Shaking like a new born deer, only to be rolled over and forced onto your knees and head pile drived into the mattress. Your pleas and begs are often ignored. What was Ghost's initiative? To shut those down and turn them in the moans and cries. Hard to reach your peaks? Then he better spend his time giving you as much as he can. No better man with the stamina to do it either.

"Calm down dove, go' one more in ya'. Know you do." Voice patronizing and getting you closer again. Knees are forced up to your chest, making your breathing shallow. "Just needed someone who could go longer, didn't ya? Just needed ta ask was all, poor girl."

Soap

He is the one to make you finish the quickest no doubt. Eager to please, he finds what you like with speed. Bending you into the position and fucking you until you come. Like the true soldier he is, hears what the problem is and wants to find the solution to it. He listens to your moans, knowing that's what you like best and puts your body into it. Instantly knows what your body wants, and gives it to you. The only downfall? The image and sound of you coming around him so quickly, makes him as well.

"Sorry lass, give me a minute and I'll be ready to go again." He said stroking himself, already half erect. "Just nice knowin' I'm givin' ya sumthin ya never really had is all. Give me a min', and I'll do it again."

Gaz

Probably the best fuck out of the four. He had the stamina of Ghost, the love making of Price, and the intent and eagerness of Soap.

Willing to go for as long as you wanted, but listened to what you wanted. Wanted some hard back shots for awhile? No worries he's got you. Need your hair pulled to turn your brain off for a bit? He's your man. Sure he was large, but kept the weight off of you to keep your lungs full of air. Letting you go for as long as you want and come as many times as he could get you there.

"Not so hard is it? Just needed the better man was all." His hands holding your hips in the position you asked. Head in the mattress and back arched up with legs on his shoulders. Rocking back and forth with you, helping you get closer once again.

"Atta' girl." He groans as you squeeze him tightly on your umpteenth orgasm.

Task Force 141 Masterlist

[slytherinslut0]

lorenzo berkshire • run.

summary: how do you define the man who embodies contradiction? a loaded gun wrapped in sunshine, a bloodhound cloaked in golden fur, a cheeky wink masking a deadly glare?

after some pushing, you realize you’ve always known exactly what kind of man Lorenzo Berkshire is. and perhaps, you also realize, he’s the most dangerous kind of all.

word count: 5.9k

warnings: forced proximity trope, SMUT, multiple orgasm, teasing, PIV, fingering, a chase through the forest, jealousy (slight weaponizing of mattheo), established boundaries entirely consensual, dark!enzoberkshire (meh), left the door open for a part two considering i never elaborate on where they’re going.

Lorenzo Berkshire. He is what he is, until he isn't.

Growing up, you always held your perceptions of Berkshire close. A sweet boy with a puppy dog stare, eyes like liquid amber holding the gentle warmth of a summer's dawn. Innocent lad with a cheeky smile that radiated like sunlight on a dew-kissed meadow--simply too damn nice for his own good. A walking ray of sunshine, wouldn't harm a fly with a feather.

He was what he was, until he wasn't.

You're not entirely certain when the switch flipped, when he chose to reveal his true self to the school and no longer cared to conceal it. You suspect it was around fifth year, perhaps during one of the winter months. You recall hearing it before seeing it, albeit faintly—the rush of footsteps, the sound of flesh meeting stone, the sickening thud of fist against face.

And when your eyes finally caught up to your ears, you recall yourself silently thanking the stars for the gracious gift of karma, and you'll never forget the silent exchange you shared with Berkshire as he was finally pulled, nay dragged, up and away from your cheating, scumbag ex.

He is what he is, until he isn't.

From this, the question still stood to linger: what precisely is Lorenzo Berkshire? These days, if anyone is to know, it should be you. You've spent ample time in close quarters with him, enough to dare attempt an answer. Moments etched in memory, his breath warm against your neck, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin, his lips mapping the crease of your thighs; among others. You suspect that, more than anyone else, you could provide a solid insight into the truth of this enigmatic man.

And yet, the answer eludes description.

How does one configure the blueprint of a man who embodies contradiction—a loaded gun wrapped in sunshine, a bloodhound cloaked in golden fur, a cheeky wink masking a deadly glare? He defies categorization, existing at the intersection of light and shadow, warmth and danger, innocence and intensity.

Understanding Lorenzo Berkshire, in his entirety, would mean subjecting yourself to the dualities of his nature—standing in both the path of his aggression and the shelter of his protection. It necessitates penetrating beneath his skin to fathom the intricacies of his design and ascending above to attain a panoramic view.

It entails becoming his adversary before earning the privilege of his friendship, which is precisely where you falter—because how do you become an enemy to a man who's already been silently protecting you for years? Who not only touches but worships you with reverence? Who smiles like sin as he kneels before your altar? Who, despite any provocation that may test his patience, has never and would never suggest severing ties?

Perhaps, you decide, the closest you can get is by first figuring out how to get under his skin.

——

"Enz," the word's a hiss, slipping through breathless cords. "You're moving too fast."

Enzo's response is terse, a nod accompanied by a faint smirk that dances across his lips before he continues on, unabated.

"Noted." The word carries zero sincerity.

You fight a groan, frustration simmering beneath your skin. Yes, you anticipated his lacklustre response, yet it did little to quell the mounting annoyance within you, creeping toward heights of Everest.

"Enz--where are we even going?"

It's pathetic really, your vocal inflection. A half-assed plea for a response you know you won't receive. He must detect it too, for all he offers in acknowledgment is a dry chuckle, effortlessly shoving a branch aside as he ducks beneath it. You groan, audibly this time, the chill wind cutting through you like a knife.

"Enzo," you beseech him, again, your voice a breeze lost in the vastness of the night, "please just slow your pace...talk to m-"

With clear reluctance Enzo pauses, abruptly, as though someone poured cement into his shoes. He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness like a beacon--brief and pulsing. You hardly have time to meet his eyes before he's moving again.

"We can't afford to slow down," is all he offers as he resumes his long strides. "Not now."

The urge to strangle him swells within you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your sanity whole. How you curse the moment you offered to accompany him on this perilous journey. How you yearn to be back in the safety of your bed, cocooned in the warmth of the castle walls, far from the chaos that ensues when you entangle yourself with Slytherin boys and their penchant for trouble. Yet here you are, a prisoner of your own folly. By this point you're certain you'll never learn.

You huff your frustration. "Gods, Enzo."

Without giving him time to deflect, you quicken your steps and reach out, grasping his wrist, instantly acknowledging the tension in his skin beneath your touch. Then, in an instant, two eyes the colour of burnt honey pivot to lock onto yours, and you see it--that ferocity. Bees buzzing with anger at the sight of their spoil. It's there. It's always there.

He is what he is--

"We've been walking for fucking ever." As you exhale, the air swallows your breath. "I'm not going to help you if you won't reason with me. If you don't tell me where the hell we're going."

"Your word was given, angel," it's short, cautiously curt, but it's enough. His tone a velvet glove masking the steel beneath. "Wasn't it?"

"My word was given, but it was also contingent on trust." You survey your surroundings. Trees, bush, and Merlin knows what else. Your shoulders slouch. "And right now, that's in short supply."

He blinks, eyes floating up and over your head, a glimpse as fleeting as twilight, before returning to meet your own. You see it again, swirling in his irises, though it's softened slightly by something you perceive as guilt. The winds howl, sucking air thin as the tension thickens, congealing in your throat.

"You know I'd never endanger you."

--until he isn't.

There's a waver in your gaze, torn between the desire to hold his sight and the temptation to descend on his lips. You don't miss the purity in his tone, a sweetness that saturates the honey in his eyes and leaves nothing but pure sugar lingering on your tongue. So saccharine it makes your teeth ache, yet you find yourself craving more.

At any other moment, you'd believe him. Now, far within the depths of the forbidden forest, the circumstances allude it.

"You doubt me," his voice cuts through the silence like a blade through silk. He couldn't miss your hesitation in a dream. You feel his skin turn to ice beneath your touch. "Since when?"

Doubting Enzo feels foreign, a betrayal of self. It's no secret that the man is troublesome, usually up to no good--but you've always known, even as his teeth graze your pulse and his hands encircle your throat, that the last thing he'd ever do is hurt you. This isn't your character. Tonight's different, and you know he senses it.

"Since you started coming out here in the middle of the night," your voice is a whisper, releasing his wrist before you could feel the inevitable leap of his pulse. "Since I had to bribe Mattheo with damn near half my worth to get him to tell me why."

One thing for certain about Lorenzo Berkshire, it's that he should come with a warning. A word of advice not to be deceived by his soft appearance. All puppy cuddles with sharply fangs oozing venom. A caution to approach with the wariness reserved for handling hazardous materials. An infomercial on how his embrace is as deceiving as it is lethal, a trap set with a smile and an eager wag of the tail.

Except, now, there was no smile. No wag. Just the trap.

"You bribed Mattheo." He repeated, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder, entirely disregarding the beginning portion of your statement. "And just what exactly did you have to offer to loosen his tongue?"

A lightbulb burst to life in your brain. A waking sun. A brazen flame. The answer, so glaringly obvious in retrospect, had been within reach all along. What rouses a dormant dragon from slumber? What pokes a sleeping bear to wake? It is the threat to their belongings—the primal instinct to protect what is theirs at all costs. To perceive any potential threat and squash it at it source.

This was your moment.

You could insinuate that you tempted Mattheo with your own tongue in exchange, perhaps alongside the opportunity to mark your knees with bruises. You could say you offered your body, your dignity, anything that might garner a reaction. Of course, the truth was far more mundane; it only took a meagre 30 galleons and a pinky promise to loosen Mattheo's lips. And he didn't even tell you anything worth knowing.

But if you aimed to stoke the fires of Lorenzo Berkshire's wrath and draw his fury upon yourself, this appeared to be the sole route remaining. For throughout all the years of knowing him, the one consistent trigger that never failed to ignite his fury was any hint of a threat...against you.

But before you could comprehend the lapse in your response, Enzo stepped closer, your name hissed through clenched teeth. "What'd you give him?"

Your heart thrashed like a caged animal. The wind billowing through the depleted space between your bodies, tousling his hair in the night. Did the forest always sound like this? Didn't he just say you couldn't afford to slow down?

Your gaze meets the air over his shoulder. "You're deflecting my question."

"And you, mine," another step forward, and you take one back. You can't help but notice his fingers twitch at his sides. "Why?"

Have you added astuteness to your Enzo observation list? If not, it must be at the top. He's always been a master at unmasking your bluffs with a single, cutting retort, dripping from the teeth with condescension.

Your eye twitches. "You're just full of questions tonight, aren't you?"

He doesn't find your deflection half as amusing as you do. "Only because I'm being met with evasive answers.”

"Huh." You cock an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "Nosey and entitled."

"Hm," he cracks a grin at that. Purely to spite you, you're sure. Purely to make your pulse skyrocket. "I prefer curious and expectant."

"Quite a pair of traits." Tension thickens in your throat. You force yourself to swallow it. "You know what they say about curiosity, don't you?"

His grin widens. "I'm certain you'll enlighten me."

You peer at him, your eyes searching for warmth in the dim of the forest but finding none, like bees seeking nectar in barren fields. You square your shoulders, trying your damnedest to ignore the distant howling sounds coming from the forests depths.

"It's a tale as old as time, Enz, I'm sure you've heard it." A branch snaps underfoot, the sound jolting you back to reality, but you swallow the instinctual yelp that threatens to escape your lips. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Before you can even process it, Enzo moves with lightning speed, seizing your wrist just as you reel from the inevitable impact of your back colliding with an ancient oak behind you. Pulling you into him, his face moves dangerously close to yours, your eyes converging, honey pouring over your skin, sucking you in like quicksand.

"You know there's another part to it, don't you?" his voice cuts through the air like a dagger, sharp and precise. He waits for you to settle before he continues. "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back."

That bastard.

"It doesn't matter what I gave him," you force yourself out of hesitation, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart, the tingling sting on your spine. "I'm still here with you, aren't I?"

His silence is telling. Bottomless pits pin you down, an anvil in influence alone.

And then he breaks it. "It matters to me."

"Why?" you press, your curiosity piqued by his insistence. You're trying to drag this on for as long as you can but his intensity has you stumbling. Words flow like water. "Who cares, really? I mean-"

"Because," he slices your sentence in two. The latter dying from lack of purpose.

Your lips thin to a pursed line. You blink up at him through lidded eyes, mouth opening to speak but nothing comes out as he leans in closer, so close you can practically taste his breath. He'd never been possessive before, not like this. But perhaps you never gave him a reason to be. You've always been his, unquestioned, unsanctioned. Despite the lack of title. You know he’s only acting this way because you’re deflecting. Your heart barrels into your throat, desperate to claw its way out.

"Because I said so," he continues, his grip on your wrist tightening with each passing moment, his nails leaving indentations in the bark beside your head. "Because, whatever dept you owe him, I'll help you absolve it. Professionally."

A sickening grin creeps across your lips, and his eyes are glued to it. You're skinned raw under his gaze, his pupils so piercing you feel them in the marrow of your bones. You observe the subtle flicker of his tongue, moistening his lips as he gleams down at you--your saviour from above, your dormant dragon, your slumbering bear.

He is what he is.

"I don't need your saving, Enzo," your voice is a breath, as soft as a phoenix feather. As flaming as one too. "I need your honesty."

"My honesty." He repeats as he leans in closer, his hand shifting to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You shudder under his possession, his lips grazing against your jaw like fire and ice, simultaneously scorching and soothing. "I'll give you my honesty, angel."

You sigh as you hear the unctuous in that tone. You know he isn't going to give you what you're asking for, but he'll give you enough to quench your thirst. Classic fucking Berkshire. He releases his grip on your wrist, replacing it with a firm hold on your hip, anchoring you to reality.

"My honesty is I knew you'd try to come tonight, and I only let you because at least here, at my side, I can protect you." Warm lips brush feather-light against your lobe. "My honesty, is if Riddle puts a fucking hand on you, we're going to have a problem."

As the last few words spill from his lips, you feel as though you've got a sugar high, his words oozing with saccharine sweetness, like indulging in a bowl of chocolates or sipping from a concentrated cauldron of peach juice. They have a cloying effect, threatening to rot your teeth and stain your tongue. Just like his eyes.

And it's right then, that you come to a startling realization. You've always known exactly what kind of man Lorenzo Berkshire is. He's not one to overwhelm with his presence, but rather a relentless force, a perpetual energy that never fades. A silent protector, yet also a silent aggressor. He's a master of masking his anger, of controlling it with a precision that borders on chilling, only bringing it out to protect what's his.

Perhaps, you realize, he's the most dangerous kind of man of all.

"Always acting as my shield," you can barely get the words out, your voice soft and reverent, as though speaking in prayer. "My silent knight."

"Mm." Enzo's lips curve into a sardonic smile against your temple. "Only fitting for an angel."

His hands roam up your hips with a possessive urgency, pulling you closer to him until there's barely an inch of space between your bodies. His face buries into your hair, his breath stirring the strands as he holds you close, fingers digging into your waist.

"I know you didn't offer him what's mine," it's not a question, but a statement of absolute conviction, spoken with the confidence of a seer who reads the future unraveling before them. "I know I fuck you too good for that."

"You're right, Enz," you concede, lids fluttering shut, folding faster than a lawn chair in tornado season. How could you not, when he's exerting this kind of influence over you? "I didn't."

You still had no idea why the two of you were out here. And at this point, it was hardly an afterthought.

"Then what's your play here, angel," he growls through a groan, a ferocious intensity ignited in the way he's squeezing you, pressing your hips back against the tree. "What the fuck are you trying to do to me."

Your lips part, poised to release the words swirling within your mind, when a sound pricks your ears. Not a sound of your own making. Something distant, yet distinct.

In an instant, your eyes snap open, but the darkness shrouds any clear view, offering only faint glimpses of looming branches and rustling leaves. Enzo remains oblivious, seemingly consumed by the frustrated desire you've so eagerly drawn from him.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, a futile attempt to push him back. "Enzo—"

"Are you trying to test me, angel?" Deep as the forest depths. As dark as them, too. His hands leave your hips and find your wrists, pinning them back against the bark above your head. "Make me jealous, yeah?"

There's another sound, now, drawing closer. You blink up at the complicated man before you, fluttering eyelashes fanning the crease of your lid. Bark burns into your skin as his intensity increases, body sweating under the heat of his eyes as they drip down at you, fever rising by the second— fear and arousal mingling as one.

"Enz-" you hardly have time to breathe before his lips are on your neck, and he's sucking. Hard. "Fuck."

Adrenaline surges you, rushing your lungs with rapid breath, sparks of lust snapping over your skin. Enzo has vanished, replaced by a storm cloud brewing with ominous intent, his once collected demeanour now a loaded gun with a cocked trigger. He was primed to annihilate, eager to erupt. You cursed yourself for pushing him to this brink, at this precise moment, as an impending threat loomed closer with unmistakable certainty.

A gasp escaped your lips as Enzo's teeth sank into your neck, branding you with purple pleasured marks of his possession.

"Enzo, damn it-" your voice is ragged, his lips trailing to the other side of your throat, the hold on your wrist growing tighter. You had to warn him. You didn't want him to stop. Your thoughts jumbled, your brain grappling with what to articulate first, settling on the throbbing pain in your wrists. "Gentle—"

Enzo groans against your neck, rolling his hips into you, fucking fire over every available expanse of flesh.

"Gentle." His breath tickles your neck, your thighs trembling, seeking friction as your hips move in rhythm with his. "I'll fuck you right here against this tree and the last fucking thing I'll be is gentle." A plea balloons in you, knocking teeth, choking. He senses it--a grin crawling across his lips in response. "That's what you wanted after all, isn't it angel?"

Nothing could stop the moan from fleeing your lips as he smirks against your pulse. Not even Merlin himself. Gripping the back of your head, Enzo crashes his lips to yours--hurried and unrelenting, the plush entirety soft and sweet and insatiable against your own. As quick as a lightening strike, you're drowning in his sugar, another realization settling on you like an encroaching dawn just how much of a taste you've developed for it. For him.

Then, he pulls away, breathing a command against your lips. "Run."

Your gut bottoms out--fear instantly drawn to the forefront of your ignorantly blissed brain--and before you can catch your breath or summon your stamina or attempt to direct some blood flow from your cunt back up to your head he's already propelling you forward, dragging you through the forest with a grip that could crush steel. Roots and branches blur past, the forest a chaotic whirlwind of greens and browns below your feet.

And it feels like hours, perhaps even years of running and dodging before Enzo finally slows his pace. You're both panting, gasping, chests heaving, but his urgency perseveres, gaze scanning the clearing as if in search of something, and then you see it, too—an old greenhouse tucked behind a few large trees, clearly abandoned.

Before you can process it, he's already on the move again, dragging you toward it.

He whips open the door and practically hurls you inside—the aged wood creaking on rusty hinges as it swings wide. His eyes, sharp as flint, dart back to survey the clearing you just fled from, and whatever he sees there seems to set his nerves on edge because before you can even blink he's striding toward you, his grip resuming its vice around your wrist as he pulls you toward a small supply closet.

You feel like a ragdoll. It's starting to get real fucking old. "Enzo-"

The words dissolve on your tongue when in an instant you find yourself inside the minuscule expanse of the closet, shelves stacked with gardening supplies, Enzo's breath pouring over the back of your neck, his body so fucking close to yours you can't take a breath without touching him. Reaching over you, he shuts the door and locks the two of you inside, engulfing you in a darkness so thick you can almost feel it clinging to your skin.

Then, there's silence, and suddenly you're aware of every inch of your existence, from the breath leaving your lungs to the sweat crawling behind your knees. Enzo shifts, as if uncomfortable, his crotch pressed firm against your ass and you can almost taste the intensity radiating from his eyes as his hands grip your waist, pulling you back against him with a force that makes breathing normally a distant dream.

"Poachers." He mutters against your neck.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you process his words, the gravity of the situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket. Poachers. You try to steady your breathing, but it's like trying to contain a storm within a teacup.

Your throats arid. "What do we do?"

You shift to adjust your stance, the sensation of Enzo's erratic exhales against your neck making your entire body tingle--and at your movements, he huffs, his grip on your waist tightening, his fingers pressing into your skin with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.

"We wait." He murmurs, his voice rough, like gravel underfoot. "Stop moving."

You need to shut up, but you can't. "And if they come in here? If they find u-"

Enzo's hand clamps over your mouth, silencing your words with a firm yet gentle grip, embodying the duality of his character. Strong yet soft. Cold yet warm. Your pulse quickens, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. Only Lorenzo Berkshire could evoke such contradictory sensations, stirring arousal in the face of danger.

"Shh," he cooes against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Trust me."

Lungs hitching, you nod, though the gesture is barely perceptible beneath his palm. He doesn't free your mouth, however, instead choosing to tease your earlobe with his teeth, his free hand on your abdomen, holding you tight against him.

"You can do that, right, angel?" his tone as soft as feathers, a gentle coaxing that wraps around you like a warm blanket. "You trust me."

There's that inflection again. As right as rain. You know he's fully fucking aware that the way he's speaking to you is calming you down, just as he knows you trust him implicitly. You wouldn't have been out here in the first place if you didn't.

And just as you go to nod, to give him the best answer you can provide to his non-question, his lips descend, claiming your pulse, his grip over your mouth intensifying as he attacks it--slow and silent and determined, your back arching and your lids fluttering in response.

"Mhm, you know I've got you," his free hand trails up your stomach, slowing just as his thumb reaches the underwire of your bra. "Always have."

In defiance of your good judgment, you clench, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. You groan against his hand, his growing desire pushing against your ass as evident and desperate as his movements. Darkness cloaks the closet, stealing your sense of sight yet all the others are overwhelmed by him. He's all-consuming, everywhere, everything—

"But this," five poised fingers start to glide down your stomach, his lips shifting back to your ear. "Is what you get for testing me."

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid over your hips, thighs, like he hasn't done this before, like it's care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction, and he tsks you, shaking his head.

"You wanted gentle, didn't you, angel?" The tease in his tone makes you want to choke him. Sort of makes you want him to choke you, too. "Consider this my version of it. Be good."

His fingers slither under the band of your leggings, a slow, torturous crawl toward the epicenter of your longing. Your hands grasp for purchase in the darkness, but there's nothing substantial to hold onto, just like the ephemeral sensation of his touch. He's both intimidating and unnervingly gentle, leading you to the brink of ruin with calculated precision.

You whimper under his palm, hips jerking toward his touch, desperate for more, but it only causes him to go slower. He coos another command to be quiet, a teasing taunt dripping with wicked delight, and you can practically feel the satisfaction pouring from his lips. He's laser-focused on unraveling you, on making you utterly undone before giving you what you crave most.

When his index finger grazes over your clit, you audibly groan, head falling back against his shoulder.

"You can't rush penance, angel," his mouth opens in a smile against your ear, though it feels more like barred teeth. That smile is as much deadly as it is pretty. "Let it simmer."

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, trembling with the intensity of his touch. You're swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realize, and feel like you're choking when he starts to move lower, two fingers shifting your panties to the side and slicking through your folds.

"So wet." He's barely audible now, even as he's breathing the words into your eardrums. "Mm, so fucking wet."

Before you can prepare for it, those same two fingers inch inside you, and curl. Your eyes roll, his palm pulling your head back tight against his shoulder as he slowly finger fucks deep into you--in and out in perfect rhythm, the sloppy sounds emanating from your cunt filling the dark, steaming space and making your skin prickle with hot shame—you're fucking dripping for him.

He growls, low in his chest, and instinctively your legs spread wider, inviting him deeper, inviting him to inebriate you further. You're caught in the perfect balance of his contradiction, teetering on the edge between disciple and devil. He worships you in one breath and ruins you in the next. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Mine." Is all he mutters, before there's a sound outside the door, and you both freeze.

Footsteps.

Almost immediately, you're ripped from the derogatory haze you'd just found yourself in—your body stiffens, tension coiling through your limbs like icy tendrils, turning your blood to frost. Enzo's fingers slow, though they remain inside you, adjusting ever-so-slightly to avoid the slick sounds your cunt makes every time he moves. You feel his teeth tease your ear, his silent way of telling you to calm down. That he's got you.

The footsteps draw closer, and there's no mistaking it—someone, most definitely multiple someone's, are lurking just outside the door—in search, of you.

But before you can even entertain the thought, before it has a chance to sink in and settle in the recesses of your mind, Enzo crooks his fingers against a spot that sends sparks flying behind your eyelids, his thumb applying just enough pressure to your clit to send you hurtling into a realm of sensation he introduces you to regularly, but not one you were prepared to face in this moment, under these circumstances.

You grit your teeth, the urge to scream clawing at the back of your throat like a caged animal desperate for freedom. Enzo is ruthless, merciless, driving you to the very edge and daring you to jump--driving you to the edge of sanity and forcing you to suppress the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

The footsteps grow louder, veer closer, before they slow. Before they stop.

It's cataclysmic, catastrophic—a blaze raging in an open battlefield, a hellfire during open warfare. You hardly have a second to comprehend the sheer insanity of what you're engaged in before Enzo's pace intensifies and he yanks your head back against his shoulder with even more force, to the point you're certain the back of your skull will leave an indent on his skin.

His lips brush against your ear, practically daring you to cum— daring you to keep resisting.

"It's clear," a voice rings out, neither yours nor Enzo's. Footsteps pick back up and draw further away. "Let's move out."

And then, it's over. A weight lifts off your shoulders, a tidal wave crashing over you. Your body erupts, convulses, squeezing around Enzo's fingers and trembling against him as your climax charges through you like a raging bull, unstoppable and overwhelming.

You scream behind his palm, knees threatening to give out from under you, the gates of heaven themselves coming into clear fucking view.

"Good girl." He husks in your ear, working you through your high, his chest rising and falling against your back, the hunger evident in his words. "My little angel was so fucking good...I think she deserves a reward, doesn't she?"

You nod, the fervent desire for more evident in the desperate plea that crawls past your lips, only to be muffled by his palm. Enzo's groan reverberates against your ear, his erection painfully hard against your ass. With a swift motion, he withdraws his hand from your lips, unlocking the door and shoving it open, propelling you forward with a commanding grip on your hips.

He wastes no time in pushing you up against an old wooden table, the rough surface biting into your skin as he yanks your leggings down your thighs. His hand finds its way into your hair, gripping a fistful and pulling your head back toward his mouth, his lips hungry and insistent against your own. Meanwhile, his free hand works quickly to undo his belt, his urgency evident as he prepares to take what he desires.

"Did you like that, angel?" He breathes against your panting mouth, his eyes barely open, his belt hitting the ground at his feet. "You like what I fucking did to you?"

"Yes—" you're choked by a gasp as he slicks his length between your thighs. "Gods-fuck, yes!"

"Yeah, you did. Fuck, I should have edged you, I shouldn't have let you cum," his voice is wanton, despite himself. You're not even sure if he knows what he's saying. "But I can't fucking help myself. I fucking love ruining you."

He positions himself at your entrance, the tension in the air thick as molasses. With a single swift motion, he plunges into you, a symphony of pleasure and pain ripping through you as he fills you completely in one long, deep thrust. You gasp, your nails digging into the wooden surface beneath you as his grip in your hair tightens, the other latched onto your hip to hold you steady.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, breath hot on your jawline. His hand shifts to grasp your jaw, pulling your lips back to his. "Always so fucking tight for me."

You can only whimper in response, his pace ruthless, and unhinged and unpredictable as always. His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There's a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear.

He is what he is, until he isn't. Until he's someone else completely.

You're clutching at the desk and screaming into his mouth as his fingers find your clit again and amidst the onslaught you're hit by the realization that this man is everything—simultaneously overwhelming and subtle, too much yet not enough. He's a feeling that engulfs you, swallowing you whole until it fills your lungs, leaving you choking on the intensity of it all. Your lips move against his in perfect synchrony, your eyelashes fluttering with each powerful smack of his hips as he drives himself deep inside you, over and over and over again.

"Enz—" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it.

He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There's a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray strands pulled across gleaming honeyed eyes.

"Cum," you swear it's a plea. You hear the desperation as much as you feel it. "Cum for me."

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddled for him, broken by his touch, stripped of all structure just to be held up by his own. The sight and feel of you erupting sends him over the edge, his groan rumbling against your temple.

"Fucking hell—" his hips stutter, his breath does too, his lashes fanning as he pours his cum deep inside you. "Fuck."

You sink against him as he finally comes to a slow, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from the desk and running up through your hair, pushing sticky strands back from your forehead. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first, it takes forever to recover from it, and before you can even register the movements Enzo has already pulled out, done up his pants and is helping you pull yours back up your still-trembling thighs.

As you turn to face him, he pulls you in. You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

When he pulls back, you let the first thing in your mind slip past your teeth. "You're unbelievable, Enzo."

He smirks, wetting his lips before leaning down and planting a small peck on the top of your head. "I'm yours, angel."

Lorenzo Berkshire is what he is, and what he is, is yours.

[weird-is-life]

steve request🩷🩷

soo reader is drunk and at a party. maybe someone at the party calls steve who is her bestie to come pick her up. he’s out with eddie, robin and nancy at the time and they go and pick her up. because she’s drunk she’s so clingy with steve and doesnt want to be away from him and the rest of the gang make fun of him for it. he loves it really tho🩷

Ty for the request, lovely💕! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, use of pet names, mentions of parties, drinking, getting left alone by friends at a party, (0.6k)

Steve finds you sitting with your head down on the stairs of the house. The closer he gets to you, the louder the music is and he winces as he remembers how he used live for these kind of parties.

Now looking at you, he can only think of it as something he hates. Sure, the dancing, the drinks are fun, but getting left alone by friends isn't. Steve can't even count, how many times he was left alone at some party. It's too many.

He hates that your friends left you alone, but he's glad you called him, because he can now make sure you're gonna be okay.

He approaches you carefully, so he doesn't scare you, "Hi, sweetheart."

You immediately cheer up, lifting your head up quickly. You smile big at him and basically throw yourself around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.

"Woah, woah, I'm happy to see you, too," Steve chuckles and hugs you back.

"Stevie, what are you doing here?" you ask happily. You called Steve to pick you up, which you clearly don't remember anymore.

"I came to take you home," he tells you amused, "c'mon let's get you moving."

Steve stands both of you up and you don't let go off of him, even as he starts to walk you to the car. And he's okay with that, he doesn't mind, that you've leaned with almost your entire weight against him.

What gets him a little flustered are your words. You start whispering all kind of nice words, compliments to him, that he's sure, you would be too shy to say sober.

By the time, you get to the car, Steve's cheeks are burning. He curses under his breath, because he knows, he's going to be teased even before he steps a foot into the car.

And he's right. Straight away Eddie, Robin and Nancy grin at him. You notice the three of them and smile drunkenly at them.

"Hi guys, you came, too?" you ask as you plop yourself without a care in the world next to Robin sitting in the back seat.

"Hi babe, " Robin greets you, while Steve squeezes in the seat next to you.

Your attention immediately goes from Robin back to Steve. You slide closer to him, as close as you can and you almost end up sitting in his lap. They all laugh at that.

"I missed you, Stevie, " you whisper, or more like you tell him very loudly, so the whole car hears it. Steve chuckles, because you were together few hours ago.

"I missed you, too." Steve tells you and puts one arm around you. You snuggle impossibly closer to him.

"I didn't sign up for this cuddle session, when I agreed to drive," Eddie mutters from the front of the car.

"Sorry, Eds. Did you want a hug, too?" you ask innocently.

"No, no, it's okay, you just keep hugging Steve. Lord knows how much he loves it," Eddie teases Steve again and Steve just glares at him. But it's true. He loves being close to you, maybe it's because he loves you. And maybe he'd get to hold you close more often, if he had the guts to confess his feelings to you.

"I love it, too, Stevie," you state and hide your face into Steve's front. It takes you only a few minutes to fall asleep, completely at ease in Steve's arms.

Steve can only smile and hold you tightly, as the blush comes back to his cheeks. He ignores the teasing smirks and looks from everybody.

Steve will survive the teasing, if it means he gets to hold you close. Anytime.