#and if you can read the book -- it's very good!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

What if They were Dads?

SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?

CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)

TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)

WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.

COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.

Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.

I hope you enjoy 🩵

CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.

By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)

Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father

Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.

In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.

He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.

Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.

He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.

Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.

Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.

Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.

Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.

Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.

Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.

Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad

Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.

Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.

No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.

Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.

Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.

You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.

He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.

He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.

If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.

He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.

Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.

They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.

Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.

Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.

Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.

Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.

Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.

Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)

Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.

He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.

He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.

And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.

You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.

From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.

Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.

Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.

You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.

If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.

Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)

Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.

The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.

There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.

He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.

He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.

During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.

His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”

Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.

Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father 

Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.

With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.

He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.

Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.

If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.

His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.

Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."

Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.

When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.

Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.

Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.

In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.

Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No” if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.

If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.

Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.

Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.

Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.

Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.

Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.

Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.

Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)

The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!

Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.

The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.

What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!

In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.

Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”

Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.

Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”

Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.

This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.

Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.

Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.

[nkogneatho]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

—characters: oliver, shidou, sae.

—cw: fem!reader, fingering, pearl necklace, overstimulation, finger sucking, not proofread.

—a/n: i need lobotomy. you do too if you're reading this shit.

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

oliver's hands are thick and has arms full of veins. he is not exactly a workout freak but he does fair amount of sets during practice resulting in his amazing physique. his fingers are girthy and he has amazing control over them.

oliver likes to spend his time with his fingers up your pussy, stretching your hole with his thick digits. he loves the feeling of your wetness dripping down his knuckles as he pumps them inside you.

"nasty little pussy. always so greedy, right, babe?" he whispers against your ears. "gimme one more and i promise i'll put my cock in then." you know he's lying. you've already came thrice and he's been repeating the same damn thing but won't stop fingering you. you can feel his erection poking your lower back, your pussy fluttering and craving more. too bad. aiku will only pull his fingers out when he wants to and not when you want to.

"oli...ngh—gunna cum," you mewl as your body tightens.

"let go, baby. 'm right here. cum on my fingers, yeah?" and you do, legs shivering as they close up, trapping his arms in place. when you calm down. aiku gives you peck on your head and you finally think he's gonna put it in. finally. "let's see if you can take four fingers." fucking hell.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

shidou's hands are very veiny even when he is not flexing his muscles. but i doubt this man is ever relaxed because he is on adrenaline 24x7. his skin is glowing with melanin so each nerve is visible. he works out a lot. well his workout is divided in two sections. gym and good old sex.

ryu's favorite thing to do with his hands are massage your tits. massage would be and understatement 'cause this man is full on groping, pinching and abusing them. your poor nipples are always sore when he is done with you. don't get me wrong. he loves to suck on them too. but something about fondling them while thrusting in you gets him off so much. even more lovely when he spits on them and smears them with his thumb.

"got such a sexy set on ya, babe. fhuuuck. gonna make me shoot a load just with this. ya won' mind if i slap them yeah?"

*slap*

you hiss at the sensation. "shit. did my pretty pussy just clenched? fucking hell. ah! my balls are tightening," he moans. you think he's gonna cum inside you but shidou pulls out faster than a lightning, his veiny hands tightening and stroking his cock as he aims for your tits. and just in a second, he is shooting thick translucent ropes all over them. he takes his palm and spread his cum all over your tits. "fuck. jus' like a glazed donut." he takes a lick. "best fucking donut ever."

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

given sae's slender yet washboard ab physique, his hands are long. not full of veins but his knuckles are very visible and it's so hot. his veins show when he is working out, pissed or...horny. sae didn't know he had attractive hands and he was dating a person who has a hand kink. what he did know was you loved to always suckle on his thumb when his palm rests on your jaw while dry humping you. so sae tries to push it further this time.

you're sitting and reading a book on the couch before sae's shadow towers over you. you shoot your head up, looking at him with confused eyes. he scans your face for a minute before speaking.

"open," he commands. you're not sure at first what he means but the way his green eyes are fixated on your mouth, your jaw instinctively follows his command like a servant. before you can grasp the situation, sae's middle and ring finger are already in your mouth. he let's you suckle on them for a few seconds and he's quick to start thrusting them. he might have just discovered that you have a hand kink is pretty convenient for him too 'cause the boner he popped might be the fastest ever.

"i am fucked," is all he says before thrusting his digits deeper, his other hand palming his cock through his gray sweats. his biceps buldge out and his veins pop when he fists his dick so you deliver the most appropriate reaction. a moan and a whimper that vibrate around his fingers sending shivers in his body. he's right. he is fucked. and so are you.

[kyber-crystal]

10 things i hate about you || f.w.

summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 

words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE

warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love

a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )

The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.

It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 

“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”

“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”

“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 

“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”

“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 

A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 

“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”

You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”

You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”

“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 

“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”

“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 

“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”

“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”

At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”

He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 

“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 

“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”

You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”

“I was going to suggest something else.”

“And what is that?”

“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”

“So you’re suggesting that, what?”

“That we say we’re a couple.”

“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”

“Why not?” 

“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”

“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”

You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.

“Fine, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 

Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”

“Dream on.”

He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”

“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”

“You’re on.”

So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 

Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.

i. the pda competition, part 1

Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 

Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 

“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”

Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 

“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 

You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”

You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 

Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 

“What was that for?” you hissed. 

There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.

“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.

“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”

Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.

“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.

ii. the pda competition, part 2

After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 

You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 

“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”

“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 

“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”

“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 

“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”

“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”

“Not for long!” 

Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.

“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”

“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”

“With me, obviously.” 

“I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”

“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 

“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 

Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 

When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”

Again, Fred was left speechless. 

“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”

“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”

More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 

Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx

You were so going to win. 

iii. the serenade

You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 

A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 

“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 

Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 

“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 

“What the—”

He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.

Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby, let me love you”

A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 

It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 

“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 

You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 

Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 

You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 

“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”

There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?

iv. the nightmare

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 

Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 

After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—

“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”

You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”

“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”

“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”

“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”

His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 

Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 

You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”

You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 

“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”

“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”

Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  

“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”

“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”

“I’d like that.”

He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.

I’m here, whenever you need - F.W

v. the hospital wing run-in

“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”

“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 

“What is it this time?”

“I broke my ankle.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 

She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”

You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.

“Guys—”

“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 

“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”

The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”

They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 

“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”

Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 

“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 

Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”

“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”

“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”

“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.

“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”

“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.

“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”

“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.

“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”

“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”

“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”

“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”

“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”

“Oi! You can’t just—”

“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”

He ended up staying overnight. 

You didn’t protest at all. 

Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 

vi. the howler 

For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 

He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.

“What’d I miss?” he asked you.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 

“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”

Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 

With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 

“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”

A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 

“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”

“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 

“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”

“And you thought this was the best idea?”

“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”

“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

vii. the pda competition, part ∞

As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 

You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 

Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).

“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”

“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”

“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  

“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”

“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”

viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)

It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.

“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 

You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 

“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”

“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”

“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”

“But—”

“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”

Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 

It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 

“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.

“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”

Your face burned. “What do you—”

“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”

“I…”

Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”

“I always look good, though.”

“I look better than your greasy arse.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”

Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 

When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 

“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”

“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

ix.  the thunderstorm 

The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 

“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”

You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….

It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…

A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 

“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”

“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”

“Oh—good point.”

“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 

“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”

“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 

“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”

The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”

x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 

The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 

But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 

“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.

“Not drinking?”

“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”

You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 

“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 

“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”

“Do you not, really?”

“I do, but I—”

“You what?”

“I just hate him!” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”

You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”

“You…really mean that?”

You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”

“Y/N, I—”

Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 

“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”

“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 

“OW—”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 

“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”

Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 

A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.

Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.

“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 

“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 

“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 

“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”

“Do what?”

“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”

“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”

“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”

“Y/N—”

“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”

“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”

“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”

Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”

And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 

You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 

And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 

“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”

“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.

“There’s no money on the line this time?”

“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”

“And what is that ‘something else?’”

“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”

xi. the promise 

—FOUR YEARS LATER—

Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 

So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 

But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 

It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 

Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 

Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 

“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 

tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany

[h0efor2ho]

Two Is Better Than One

Seungcheol X Reader X Mingyu

WC : 4.4K

TW : Roomates to FWB, threesum, unprotected ( wrap it up ) Anal, Vaginal sex, Fingering, Oral, Very very close to male on male, double penetrate, talks of masturbation, talks of toy use and listening through walls.

You jump at the sound of the door bell of your apartment ringing. "Piizzzaaa's Heeereee" you shout as you answer the door. Quickly paying the delivery driver you make your way into the kitchen. "I can smell the garlic knots from down the hall" Mingyu says as he enter the kitchen behind you. "Of course you can" you say rolling your eyes. You and Mingyu became quick friends back in freshman year when he coincidently was a pizza delivery driver. For two months straight he would deliver pizzas to you almost every day. The pair of you quickly bonding over your shared love of movies, after all he was a film major. "Where's 'Coups?" you ask as you open the pizza box.

Like on que you hear footsteps as Seungcheol rounds the corner into the kitchen "Right here" he smiles at you. His brown hair clinging to his forehead, wet, indicating he just finished up in the shower. Mingyu had introduced you to Seungcheol aka S.Coups aka Coups as you called him, toward the end of your freshman year of college. The two of them were gym buddies as they put it, working out together everyday. You and 'Coups clicked right away over your love for literature. The two of you often having conversations about the meaning of whatever book you were reading. The three of you became inseparable so it was a no brainer when your second year rolled around, that you should all live together and here you were two years later, all still getting along. 

You smile up at Seungcheol as he makes his was over to you "How many slices you want 'Coups?" reaching up to grab another plate from the cabinet. You cant quite reach it, stretching a bit farther before you feel an arm wrap around your bare thighs, another pressed to the XL hoodie on your stomach as Mingyu comes up behind you to lift you up. "There you go shorty" he teases as he places you back on the ground after you grab the plate. "I'm not that much shorter than you" you laugh back at him, knowing it was a flat out lie. You stood at 5'5' and Mingyu stood at 6'2". You quickly hand Mingyu and Seungcheol a plate and make one for yourself. None of you bather to sit at the table you have, opting to stand around the kitchen. Eating and talking until you were all done. 

"What are we doing tonight?" You ask Seungcheol as you wash the dishes you all used. It was roommate night. Once a week the three of you had a night where one of you picked a activity for all of you and tonight was Seungcheol's turn. "We just got that new video game. I was thinking we could play that tonight" he says as he helps dry the dishes and put them away. "Sure that sounds good, I'll make some popcorn" Mingyu says with a smile "You guys know I suck at those things" you laugh. "Dont worry we'll help you, right Mingyu?" Seungcheol says looking over at his roommate. "Absolutely" He says sweetly to you. "Fine" you sigh, "I'll go get the blankets" you say exiting the kitchen.

After another 15 minutes you were all gathered in the living room. You and Seungcheol on the couch while Mingyu opted to sprawl out on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol go first to get a feel for the game. All you could tell was it was some kind of racing game and it looked like Seungcheol was beating Mingyu. After two more rounds of Seungcheol winning he looked over at you "Alright your turn Y/N" he says handing you the controller. Taking it from him you look at it in your hand "Sooo what button is what?" you ask. Both Seungcheol and Mingyu laugh "Don't worry I'll help you, come here" Seungcheol says as he scoots back on the couch, patting the space in-between his open legs. You get up and perch yourself on the edge of the couch in the middle of him. 

"Come here silly" he says as his hand snakes around your waist to pull you back against his chest. "I need to be able to help you with the buttons" he says from behind you. Both his hands come to lay onto of yours on the controller. You cant help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at his touch. His hands are soft and yet firm over your skin. You'd be lying if you said you had never thought of your roommate in that way, both of them. You cant count how many nights you'd lied awake in bed, touching yourself wishing it was one of them, whispering their names as you came all over your fingers. You'r very much aware your sitting in between his legs in just an oversized hoodie and knee high socks. Your breath hitching as Seungcheol's head comes to rest on your shoulder.

"Okay so this is how you go" he says as he guides your finger over the red button "And this is how you stop" this time his finger coming over the blue button. "Mingyu" he calls to your other roommate on the floor. Mingyu's head snapping up, an unreadable look spreads across his face as he looks at the two of you "Lets do a practice run first kay, so she can get used to the controls" Mingyu shakes his head yes before tearing his gaze from the two of you to the TV. You play two rounds with Seungcheol's fingers on yours to help you. By the third round he tells you you're on your own. His hand dropping from yours as the game starts. You were so focused on the game you didn't realize Seungcheol's hand had dropped to your thigh right above your knee. 

It wasn't until the round was over did you notice he was drawing little circles on your skin with his thumb. "Your to tense" You hear Seungcheol's voice in your ear "Relax" he says as he pulls you back flush against his chest and leans back into the couch. Your hoodie ridding up on your thighs a bit as you lean into him, your legs parting slightly with the motion. His hand on your leg begins to rub up and down your thigh, slowly dipping in between your legs. Slowly getting higher and higher with each pass toward your center. Your mind is reeling, you'r barley able to focus on the game, pressing the wrong buttons causing you to lose control of your car on screen and crash. "Pretty, you doing okay over there?" Mingyu says, turning to look at you and Seungcheol again. 

"She's doing just fine" Seungcheol says into your ear "She's just a little tense is all" His other hand comes down on your other thigh rubbing up and down. "Aww, I think we should help her relax. Don't you think 'Coup" Mingyu smiles up at the two of you. Seungcheol's hands swipe up again, sliding into the crack of your thighs, pausing dangerously close to your clothed center, squeezing the fat of your legs. You feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear "Would you like that Y/N?" he asks. "You want me and Mingyu to help you unwind?" You feel him press his lips to the back of your neck as his hands begin to move again. You don't trust your voice, all you can do is nod your head yes. You hear both men chuckle as you feel Seungcheol's hands pry your legs open, throwing each one over his to lock them in place. 

His hands sliding up the inside of your thighs, pausing right where your leg meets your body "Say Mingyu" he calls over to the dark haired man "Tell me, how wet is she" a shiver runs down your spine as Mingyu crawls his way over to sit in front of you. His face nestled in-between your legs. "Mmmm very Cheol" He says as his hands trace the same path Seungcheol's did up your legs. "Her little green lace panties have a nice big wet spot" Mingyu says looking up at you licking his lips. "Just as I thought" Seungcheol coos from behind you. His hand comes to run up and down the length of your covered slit, gliding over the damp crotch of your panties. "At first we thought you were just comfortable with us, walking around in those little skirts or things like this. Your long shirts with no pants on" 

His long finger finds your clit through your lace underwear, rubbing small circles into it "But then we heard you" Mingyu add's, Your eyes snap open to look down at him as your chest heaves. "Oh yes that's right isn't it Cheol" he says as he takes his thumb and runs it over your slick covered panties. "Oh yes Min'. You see Y/N the walls are thin so we hear everything" You swallow thickly "Ev-everything?" you question. Thinking back to all the night you had touched yourself, their names falling from your lips. "Yes pretty" Mingyu says before placing a kiss to your inner thigh. "Every time you called our names" he says "Every time you turned on that little toy of yours, we heard the tell tail buzz" Seungcheol whispers in your ear. "Every squash of your wet pussy begging to be filled up by more then your little fingers" Mingyu add's 

A shaky moan leaves your lips as Seungcheol applies more pressure to the circles hes drawing on your clit. "Min', I think she's very much enjoying this" Seungcheol smirks down at his friend "I think your right Cheol" he replies back pushing his thumb into your panty covered slit. He watches as his finger separates your folds behind the fabric, feeling the wetness seep through. You cant help your self anymore, you slowly start to roll your hips, grinding against their fingers. You hear Seungcheol let out a low groan from behind you. He pressed his hips up into your back, your ass rolling over him and his now very hard, very large cock. You let out a little gasp. "Look what you've done Y/N" he says as his lips find your neck as the same time Mingyu's meet the inside of your thighs.

You let out a whimper, your skin burning with each of their touches. "More" you whine as your head falls back onto Seungcheol's shoulder. "What do you say?" Seungcheol asks, voice muffled by the flesh of your neck hes sucking on. "Pleaseee" you say, tilting your head forward to look down at Mingyu in-between your legs. "Want more please" He detaches his mouth from your thigh "What do you think Cheol? Should we give her what she wants?" He asks cocking his head to. the side. "I think so." He says "Lets see how good she can be. Help me take these off" He says to Mingyu as his hand comes up to grip the band of your panties. He slides them down your hips to your thighs before Mingyu takes over and slides them the rest of the way off. Tossing them across the room somewhere. 

Mingyu's hands coming to rest on your knees as he pushes your legs wide open, putting you on display for them. He watched as Seungcheol dipped his fingers in between your fold, gathering your slick on his fingers before he brought that finger up to your clit. Gliding over the sensitive bundle of nerves with ease. "Put those thick fingers to use Mingyu" he says horsely to your roommate. You feel Mingyu take one of his fingers and circles it around your entrance, coating his finger tip in your juice before pushing into your tight hole. "ughh" you moan out as you feel him enter you. "You like that pretty?" He ask's looking up at you "Mmhmm" you shake your head yes as you slightly roll your hips, willing him to move inside of you. 

He slowly starts to pump his finger in and out of you a few times before adding another finger. You let out a whimper at the stretch "He's got to prep you to take our cocks princess" Seungcheol whispers to you, his words causing you to let out a moan. You feel his hand slink around your body, tugging up your hoodie and splaying his hand over your stomach. His hand hot against your skin as he trails it up your body before finding your chest. "Mmmm" he moans out "Min' look at what a bad girl she is" He says as he lifts your shirt up and over your head exposing you "No bra huh baby" he says "Its like she's just begging us to play with her" Mingyu says. "Is that what you want Y/N?" Seungcheol asks as his hand increases the pace on your clit, Mingyu does the same with his fingers, curling them upward to hit the spongy spot inside your walls. "You want us to play with you princess?" 

"Yesss" you cry out, the coil in your stomach is being to tighten as they continue exploring your body, Seungcheol has a finger rubbing circles on your clit as his other hand is cupping your left breast, slipping his thumb over your nipple. Mingyu has two fingers buried in your pussy, curling his fingers hitting your g-spot with each push and pull. His other hand reached up twisting and pulling your other nipple. Your teetering on the edge of your release when Seungcheol's hand comes up and wraps around your throat. "Now be a good girl and cum for us yea" that's all it took to send you over the edge. Letting out a loud moan as your walls squeezing around Mingyu's fingers, trying to suck him in and keep him there as you coated them in your juice. Seungcheol continued to draw lazy circles on you as you came down from your high, Mingyu's fingers slowed significantly. 

He slipped his fingers out of your wet hole, holding them up in front of you, spreading his fingers to watch your cum spread across them. Looking up he starts to bring his hand up, past your head and right into Seungcheol's waiting mouth. You turn your head to watch him sucks your juice off of Mingyu's fingers. Both boys humming at the sensation before Mingyu pulls them out with a pop. You lean your head back on Seungcheol's shoulder as you try and catch your breath, already a little tired from your first orgasm. "Help me with these" you hear Seungcheol say before you feel him lifting your hips. You look down and watch as Mingyu is slipping off Seungcheol's sweats and boxers to his ankles, before your placed back on Seungcheol's lap. His very hard dick now pressed up against your wet center. 

He reaches around grabbing the base of his cock before, he lightly slaps it against your cunt before hes pulling himself away from your pussy. "Min', help her" he says "Gladly" Mingyu says as his hands come to push your knees up, his hands behind them as he slightly lifts you up so Seungcheol can line his long cock up with your entrance before slowly lowering you down. You gasp as you feel the thick head of Seungcheol's cock push pass the tight first ring of muscles before you fully sink down on him. "Oh fuck" you cry out as he bottoms out in you. He gives you a second to adjust to his size before hes hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up. He starts to thrust, a slow and gentle pace at first. "You must like that huh pretty" Mingyu coos up at you, his pants now around his thighs, his hand gripping his big dick as he lazily pumps himself. "Your already leaving a ring of cream around the base of his cock" 

"Is she now?" Seungcheol's asks in a strained voice from behind you. He's trying to be nice and hold back his assault on your pussy. He doesn't want to break you just yet. "Clean her off Min'" he coos down at him. Mingyu wastes no time attaching his mouth to your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue lapping at your bud like it was the last thing he was going to do. The sounds spilling from your mouth keep getting louder and louder. You look down at the head of dark hair as his tongue swipes across your clit, before he pull back. He looks down at his hand, spitting into it before placing it back on his cock and pumping. Looking up he holds eye contact with you as he leans back in, his tongue meeting the lip of your pussy that's wrapped around Seungcheol's dick. Licking slowly collecting your release that's collected there. You watch as he laps at your folds while Seungcheol pounds into you flattens his tongue and licking till he finds your clit again. 

"Fuckk" You hear Seungcheol breathes out into your shoulder "You must like that with the way you're clamping on my cock so hard". He picks up his pace causing you to cry out as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with each thrust. Your head leaned forward as you watch Mingyu lick you over and over again. Clean your release from your folds as Seungcheols pounds into you, before flicking his tongue up over your clit. A sensation growing deep in your stomach has you worried. " 'Gyu wait..." you cry out "Som' thin's wrong" you slur out as your body starts to shake in his arms. "Your good baby girl" he coos to you "take it baby, you can do it" Your legs are shaking, trying to clamp shut as Mingyu attaches his mouth to your clit again, sucking you in. "Fuckkk" you cry, "Please 'Coups... I'm gonna pee" you cry, tears pricking the corner of your eyes "Gyu" you cry, looking down at him, His eyes shifting up to meet yours. A smirk spreading on his face, he detaches his mouth from you but brings his fingers up. You watch as he pushes the small hood of skin back, exposing your swollen nub to him. His mouth coming back down, his tongue connecting with it. 

The second his tongue swipes over your nerve you are seeing white. You let out a strangled cry as your eyes roll back in your head, your back arching as your gush clear liquid all over Seungcheol's cock. "Fuck princess" Seuncheol grunts "Fucking squirting for us to" he slows his thrusts to allow you to come down once more. You'r panting, vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. Your hands gripping Seungcheol's arms, leaving little half moon shapes in them from your nails. Your body is slumped back against his chest. Your gasping as Seungcheol lowers your legs. "You are doing so good princess" he coos into your ear. Lifting your hips he slowly eases out of you. You whimper at the feeling of emptiness. "Don't worry, we're not done yet" he chuckles as he turns you to face him. A leg thrown on each side of him as you straddle his waist. Sinking back down on his hard length, a moan slipping past your lips. His hands coming up to cup your face as he leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours. His kiss is sweet and calming. 

As Seungcheol is distracting you with his sweet kisses, you feel Mingyu's hands on your ass. Spreading your cheeks apart, you hear the sound before you feel it. He hocks a glob of warm spit right on your puckered hole. You jerk and whimper in surprise when you feel his finger swipe against your hole. "Shhh. Its okay princess, he's just prepping you okay" Seungcheol coos while cupping your face. You nod your head in agreement before leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seungcheol looks up at Mingyu and gives him a nod to continue. You feel Mingyu swirling his finger over your puckered hole before he gently pushes in. Your spine straightens a bit at the sensation, a small whimper muffled by Seungcheol's shoulder. His hands running up and down your back, while you cockwarm him. After a few minutes Mingyu has successfully inserted two fingers into your ass, scissoring them to spread you open. 

He pulls them out and quickly lines his cock up. Rubbing the bulbous head of his cock against your hole, coating it in his pre before he slowly pushed it in. "Ohh Fuck" you moan out as he stretches you open. His hand coming up to grip your shoulder. "You okay pretty?" he asks as he stalls, letting you get used to the tip of his cock in your asshole. "Mmhmm" you hum out as you shake your head "Please Gyu.. fill me up pleaseee" you whine out to him. He wastes no time in sinking the rest of his length into you. A string of curses leaves his lips as your hole wraps around him, hugging him like you were made for him. "Such a good girl" Seungcheol coos as he kisses your forehead. "Were gonna move now okay" "Please" you choke out. With out another words Mingyu is pulling out slowly till just his tip is in you. As he pushes back in seungcheol begins to pull his cock out of your pussy till again just the tip is in you. They work in tandem when one pulls out the other thrusts in so you are never empty. It doesn't take long for them to pick up their pace.

"Fuck yesss right there please" you cry out, your body jilting with each thrust of their cocks. "Yeah, you like this pretty" Mingyu asks as he grips your shoulder. "You like being full of our cocks huh princess" Seungcheol ask's. You nod your head feverishly. Your hips rolling in time with their thrust's, your breasts jiggling with each push as they are smashed against Seungcheol's chest. His hands come around your body, one palm on each of your ass cheeks as he pulls them apart, spreading you open for Mingyu. "Fuck dude" Mingyu moans out, his eyes watching as his cock disappears inside of you "She's swallowing me so well" His hips slamming into your ass with each thrust. "I know" Seungcheol says looking up at him "I can feel you inside her" he grunts out. "Harder" You cry out "Please harder" your hands gripping Seungcheol's shoulder as the boys thrust up harder and harder into you. 

"Fuck princess" Seungcheol grunts "Your clenching around me so tight I'm not gonna last much longer" "Me either pretty" Mingyu adds in "Your ass is so tight" You sit up and lean back, your back now met with Mingyu's chest. Your hands coming up to twist and pull on your nipples in Seungcheol's face. "Fuck yeah just like that baby girl, play with yourself for us. Show us how bad you want us" He grunts out as you play with yourself for them, Mingyu's head resting on your shoulder watching you. "Open" he says as he reaches his hand forward and places two fingers in seungcheol's mouth, coating his fingers with his saliva before pulling them out and trailing them down to your puffy clit. He presses into your sensitive bud and starts to rub circles. Your body begins to jerk. "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!!" you chant as your body rushes toward another orgasm. Seungcheol leans forward pushing your hand away before latching his mouth onto your nipple. Sucking it into his mouth before gently clamping his teeth down on it and flicking it with his tongue. 

Thats all you need. You vault over the edge. Your body convoluting above them as both of your holes contract and squeeze them. Their names spilling from your lips in a mantra of need. "Oh fuck" Mingyu cries "I cant hold it anymore, I'm gonna cum" His thrusts start to falter. "Where do you want me to cum pretty" he grunts out, very obviously trying to hold off his release. "In me" you whine "please want both you to fill me up" "Shit" you hear Mingyu whines as his hips slam into you and still. You can feel him twitching inside of you as he paints the walls of your asshole white with his cum. The sensation of feeling Mingyu's cock twitching through your thin walls sends Seungcheol over the edge to. "fuck, fuck, fuckkk" he grunt out as his hips still as well. He dumps ropes of hot cum deep into your tight cunt. "Holly shit" he breaths out into the side of your neck. 

Mingyu grips your hips as he slowly eases himself out. You hiss at the soreness left behind. "I'm sorry" he says as he's pressing light kisses onto your back and shoulder blades. "Its okay Min'" you breath out. You grip the back of the couch as you begin to lift yourself up off of Seungcheol, his hands coming to your hips to help you unsheathe his softening cock from your pussy. He guides you back down onto his lap, cradling you as he grabs a blanket to wrap around you. You nestle your head into the crook of his neck as he hugs you to his body. Mingyu coming to sit next to you, rubbing your back. "You did amazing Y/N" Seungcheol says as he kisses the top of your head. 

"Yeah, you took both of us so well" Mingyu adds. You look up smiling at both of them. "I'm so glad I have the both of you" you say to them. "For as long as you want, right Seungcheol" Mingyu says before kissing your cheek "Right" Says Seungcheol "Min', why don't you go start a bath for her so she can relax, while I go heat the oven, I'll make cookies" He smiles up at his friend before he left the room. Seungcheol lifts and places you on the couch gently before exiting for the kitchen. There you sat naked, with both your roommates cum leaking out of both your holes. You smile to yourself, realizing the next roommate night was your night to pick the activity, and you knew exactly what the three of you would be doing.

[hauntedbydreams]

The long awaited part 2 to the Cuddly!Vi Headcanons as promised

Cuddly!Vi Headcanons Pt. 2 💞

P.S. it’s a bullet point kinda day

Actually loves to read before bed because she used to pass time in prison like that

Her favorite is when you cuddle up and you each read your own copy of the same book so you can discuss your thoughts about it later.

She’s a very restless reader, blame it on the undiagnosed ADHD, but she fidgets all the time and takes forever to get comfy.

Even when she does, she’s switching positions and rummaging around the blankets and pillows every few minutes

You’d think she’d be the same with sleeping but oh no. Once she’s asleep, she’s out like a light.

Didn’t used to be like that. In prison she had to keep her guard up all the time and never let herself fully relax. She also had nightmares about the beatings a lot but after moving in with you and realizing she’s safer than she’s been in years, she’s back to her teenage habits of sleeping like a log.

Snores, a lot! You just kinda shove her and she snorts, maybe turns her head up, half consciously, and then goes right back to sleeping, pulling you closer to her by the waist in the process

Vi always has her hand on your waist when you sleep. Always. And good luck getting out of bed to go pee at night.

“Mmgh where are you going” she grunts sleepily as you try to nudge her off so you can get out of bed.

“I’m just going to the bathroom Vi”

“Mm…hurry back, can’t sleep without you”

But by the time you’re back she’s already snoring. You crawl into bed beside her and almost on cue, her hand is back around your waist as she sleeps face down snoring into the pillow. Even subconsciously she always keeps you close.

Loves being big spoon

Unless it’s her turn to be little spoon. That’s a whole other story. (sHe’S jUsT a LiTtLe BaBy!!)

She’s really gotta be in a mood for that to happen, or it’s one of those days when she’s being quieter than usual and you notice. So you’re all about taking care of her, washing her hair, making her dinner and of course letting her be little spoon.

She kinda likes that it’s a special treatment thing because she feels like she earns it then, even though you’ve told her a million times that you love her and she doesn’t need to earn your love. But not much you can do to rewire an eldest daughter’s brain when it comes to earning and deserving love…!

Vi’s favorite cuddling position though, is when she can crawl up between your legs to lie face down on ur chest. She falls asleep every time while u scratch at her scalp through her pink hair.

Loves to sleep in with you on lazy mornings.

Those are her absolute fave cuddle sessions. Sun on your skin, messy sleep hair, PJs riding up and the warmth of your bedsheets, she swears she could die happy.

Contrary to popular belief, Vi’s not doing her workouts and going for runs at the ass crack of dawn. She prefers to do them later in the day or especially at night while half the world is asleep and everything is dark out, shimmering streetlights as she goes for her midnight run.

She comes back home, showers and then crawls into bed next to you, where you’re usually still awake anyway, waiting for her. Those late nights are her second favorite cuddle sessions. Just you her and the moon.

Cuddly!Vi def comes out when she’s sick

Vi is such a cry baby when she’s sick

“Baby, come cuddle me please” she’s whining before you’ve even made it to the kitchen to make her some tea.

“Can you kiss it better?” With the puppy dog eyes

“Vi it’s literally a cold, where am I supposed to kiss it better?!?”

“Mmm my forehead” “no wait, and my nose” “actual also my lips” and she’s jutting out her bottom lip in a mini pout.

“Yeah ok at this rate I’m gonna get sick too, and then who’s gonna take care of you?”

She’s just pouting up at you and giving you those powder blue puppy eyes. You really can’t deny her.

Very touchy cuddly coded, like will be extremely touchy and soft when you’re out, literally ANYWHERE.

Needs to have her hands on you, on your waist, on your thigh, in your hand, arm around your shoulder, around your hips, head nuzzled in your neck, or resting on top of your head… you name it, she’s tried every PDA move under the sun.

Just a touch starved baby who’s love languages are definitely physical touch and acts of service.

[queenshelby]

Neighbour (P.1)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Virgin!Reader

Warning: Corruption, DDLG, Teaching, Smut

Living next door to a famous actor had always been interesting for you and, even though he was married to a woman named Danielle, you couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to be a part of his world.

Unlike your very religious parents, he was rather open-minded and you often spent time with his eldest daughter when she visited him, enjoying her free-spirited company.

Occasionally, you would be talking to Cillian too and it was recently that he found out about you having taken a liking in a local boy named Ethan. Ethan was a young man from church. At 20 years old, he was only one year older than you and was incredibly popular among the girls in your church group and in school.

You had first met him when you were out at the local farmer's market helping your mother sell her home-made baked goods. He was a student at your school and was helping his mother out as well. You had nursed a crush on Ethan for more than five years, but never said a word about it to anyone before that day, because you were shy, innocent and naive about the ways of the world. You had always been too nervous to talk to him.

In addition to that, you had no idea about what to do with boys as you were brought up strictly.  You had a very basic understanding of intimacy and that was based on the knowledge from your religious school and the books that the library stocked that your mother allowed you to read. But that knowledge was far from complete and your understanding was far from comprehensive.

After having finally watched some of Cillian's work, however, you became more curious and it was  only the other day that you had decided to take matters into your own hands and had finally come up with the courage to confide in Cillian, your neighbor, about your crush and your lack of knowledge about intimacy.

You felt a little bit uncomfortable talking to Cillian about it but you trusted him. He had always been welcoming and friendly and open, ever since your family moved next door to him a year ago.

He would often speak to you in a way only an experienced man his age could or tease you lightly to make you laugh, and you felt comfortable opening up to him.

You sat in your garden, the late afternoon sun warming the nape of your neck. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming roses filled the air. You fidgeted with the hem of your sundress, nervously testing the ground. "I think I want to date Ethan," you blurted out, avoiding eye contact. "But I want to learn about things first," you explained as Cillian, leaning against the fence separating the yards, gave you a soft smile and a reassuring nod.

His piercing blue eyes, full of intensity, were a stark contrast to your timid ones. "I mean, I don’t know what to do," you admitted shyly. "I don't know how to kiss him, or how to touch him, or what he'll want to do." Your cheeks flushed pink, and you looked down at your hands, twisting nervously in your lap.

Cillian's smile widened as he saw this and you felt even more confident that he would help you out. "Well, Y/N, that's something I can help with if you want.  I know all about these things," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "I think I can teach you, but it'll take some time to get you ready."

You hesitated, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Teach me how?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as your heart was beating out of your chest.

Cillian's eyes were like a shot of whiskey, strong and intoxicating, burning a hole into your soul. You could feel your body responding to his seductive gaze.

"Well, I could show you how to make a man feel good if you like," he said, his voice husky, his tone turning confident and suggestive. "I'll warn you now, though, it's not going to be like the books you read. It would be more physical, so maybe you should think about this before you agree to anything," he offered as he noticed the blush creeping up your cheeks and the way that your eyes were glued to his lips. He was obviously enjoying making you feel this way.

"Okay, I think I would like that," you agreed, your voice barely audible as you struggled to find your voice.

Cillian's eyebrows raised as he glanced over at your front door and then back at you again. "Alright then, let me give you a quick taste of what we could do. Is your mother at work?" he asked and you nodded.

"She'll be back in a few hours," you replied.

Cillian's eyes widened as he smiled and nodded, "Well, that's enough time, so follow me," he offered as he moved forward, and you dutifully followed him inside.

After having offered you a glass of water, he took a deep breath and looked at you in awe.

"Come on, let's go upstairs to my bedroom," Cillian said, his voice warm and smooth like honey dripping off a spoon as he reached for a clean towel from the washing basket by the stairs and you wondered what this was for. 

"Uhm, okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You followed him up the creaky wooden staircase, the dim lights casting long shadows that danced on the walls. 

When you reached his bedroom, he smiled and you gave a little smile and shuffled your feet, - trying to keep your nervousness at bay.

It was a large space, with a king-sized bed in the centre, a large window that let in the soft glow of the night sky, and a bookshelf filled with books in one corner. You had never been in his room before and you were captivated by the scent of his cologne that lingered in the air. You could also sense a mild scent of sweat mixing with the pine fresh air that his cologne did not quite over power.

Cillian sat on the bed, his movements casual and unhurried as he placed the towel next to him. You stood by the door, your hands clasped together in front of you, and you gave a little smile and shuffled your feet, - trying to keep your nervousness at bay.

He patted the bed beside him, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't be so nervous, sweetheart. Tonight, I'm just going to show you how to touch a man, alright?" he said as his eyes twinkled with a roughness that made you giggle. “Nothing more,” he reassured you and you were not quite sure what he meant by that.

“Do you mean, down there?” you asked, gesturing vaguely towards his lap, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Yes, down there," he chuckled, his voice gentle yet firm. "Do you know what that is called, down there?"  Cillian asked with a half-smile on his face as he gestured with his head towards his crotch.

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Uhm, I think so," you murmured, your voice barely audible. You had read about it in books, heard whispers from your friend and seen things on the internet, but you had never been in this position before. 

"Can you say it?"  Cillian pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. You were not used to these kinds of conversations, and it made you want to hide under the covers.

"P-penis," you finally whispered, your voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

Cillian smiled, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "Good girl," he said, his voice encouraging. "Although I prefer the word cock," he said with a cheeky grin on his face. "But we'll start with whatever you are comfortable with."

You stared at him, wide-eyed, your blush deepening. You had heard the word before, but never from someone in the flesh.

Cillian reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the inside of your wrist.

"Come and sit with me," Cillian said, his voice a soft murmur. He patted the bed beside him again, and you hesitantly took a step forward, then another, until you were close enough for him to gently tug you down next to him. The bed dipped slightly under your weight, and you sat stiffly, your hands folded neatly in your lap.

Cillian leaned back against the pillow, his eyes never leaving your face. "You are so beautiful, you know that, right?" he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as you nodded shyly while Cillian slowly unbuckled his belt. You watched, wide-eyed, as he undid the button on his jeans and then the zipper. 

"Now tell me, do you know what a man's cock is for?" Cillian asked, his voice gentle but firm. You nodded again, your eyes fixed on his face, afraid to look down.

"I-I think so," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. 

"Can you tell me?"  Cillian asked, his voice gentle yet insistent, his hand gently squeezing your wrist. You swallowed hard again, your mouth dry as cotton.

"Uhm, for, uhm...making babies," you finally managed to say, your voice barely audible. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to keep your eyes from darting to his crotch.

"Yes, well, that's one way to put it." Cillian's lips curved into a knowing half-smile. He shifted slightly, his movements deliberate and slow.

“But that's not all it is for,” Cillian said, his voice low andultry. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes never leaving yours. "Sometimes, it's just for fun," he added, his voice a low murmur that sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

"What do you mean?" you finally managed to ask, your voice shaky.

Cillian chuckled, a soft, warm sound that seemed to wrap around you. "I mean, sometimes, it's just about the feelings, the physical connection, you know?" he said, his voice gentle yet firm. He moved his hand from your wrist, only to gently grasp your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Now tell me Y/N... have you ever seen a man's cock before?" Cillian asked, his voice still gentle, but there was an underlying intensity that made your heart race.

You shook your head, your eyes still fixed on his face, your heart hammering in your chest. “No, I haven’t,” you admitted softly, your voice barely a whisper. You had seen body parts online but this was different, this was real.

Cillian smiled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's alright sweetheart. Tonight, I'm going to show you what it looks and feels like," he said gently, causing you to nod. 

"You're a bit nervous aren't you?" he asked softly, his voice gentle. His thumb swiped across your knuckles, the movement slow to make sure that you could see it. 

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to steady yourself. "A little," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "It's okay to be nervous but just know that I won't hurt you. I promise." His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

He reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before he pulled back slightly. He then stood up to push down his jeans and boxers and then he sat back down, leaving just enough room for you to see his manhood.

"Come on, come here, don't be nervous, sweetheart," Cillian said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He patted the bed next to him again, and you scooted closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and you could smell his familiar scent, a mix of soap and something else that was uniquely him.

"It's okay, you can look at it," Cillian encouraged, his voice soft and patient. You took a deep breath and let your eyes drift downwards, taking in the sight of him.

He was hard and big, and you felt a pang of nervousness in your stomach. 

"Why is your cock hard?" you asked, your curiosity briefly overriding your nervousness. Cillian smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"It's called being aroused, sweetheart. It means I'm excited . It's a natural response to certain thoughts and feelings, and maybe to having you around, too." he replied, his voice gentle yet firm.

"Now give me your hand " he said and you hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. But you saw a different side to Cillian on him being so patient and gentle this made you want to trust him. You reached out your hand, your fingers trembling slightly as you placed it in his. He took your hand and gently moved it towards his manhood, his grip firm yet reassuring. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. Just relax," Cillian murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and let your hand rest gently on him, feeling the smooth, velvety skin beneath your fingertips.

"Now, gently stroke it up and down, like this," he said, his voice soft and patient. He guided your hand in a slow, rhythmic motion, his eyes never leaving yours. His length heaved and his body tensed so slightly that it wasn't even noticeable to someone else. He continued to guide your strokes, showing you the pace and pressure.

This was so new and strange to you. But you felt safe under his guidance. The room was quiet save for the faint humming of the streetlights outside your window and the soft rasp of your breaths. You could sense Cillian's breath steadying to match your rhythm, his eyes never leaving yours, his smile more indulgent. You shivered at being looked at like that.

"This is nice isn't it?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble. You nodded wordlessly, your cheeks flushed a pretty rose color and you felt like your heart was going to race out of your chest.

"Keep going, like that," he said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own pleasure.

You took that as a cue and continued your gentle strokes, your eyes fixed on his face, watching as his features tightened with pleasure. The room air was now thick, and so was the weight of the moment.

"I find it hard to tell you how good this feels," Cillian groaned. His voice was a low, husky whisper.

He reached out to brush a lock of hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear you didn't know what to say to that, so you kept moving.

"That's good, Y/N. It feels nice. You have really soft hands," Cillian said and you could feel his body tense beneath your touch, and you marveled at the sensation of power that surged through you.

"Almost there, sweetheart," Cillian murmured, his voice ragged with desire. He reached down, his hand covering yours, guiding your strokes with a firmer grip. "Just like that, baby. Keep your eyes on me. I want you to see what you do to me."

You met his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of innocence and newfound confidence. You saw the raw desire in his eyes, and it made your heart race even faster. Your hand continued to move, guided by his.

"That's a good girl," Cillian breathed, his voice hoarse with pleasure. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you felt a strange mix of emotions—excitement, nervousness, and a sense of empowerment that you had never felt before. You marveled at the power you held over him in that moment, the way his body responded to your touch.

Cillian's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his breathing becoming more ragged. "Just like that, sweetheart. Don't stop," he murmured. His eyes were now closed, his lips slightly parted, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the sight of him losing control.

Some strange clear  liquid was already seeping from the tip of his cock, and you watched in fascination as it glistened in the soft light of the bedroom.

Cillian's grip on your hand tightened even more, his body tensing beneath your touch. "Y/N, I'm close," he warned, his voice a low growl as he opened his eyes, locking on to yours and you had no idea what he meant by that.

"That's it. Keep it going," Cillian’s voice a hoarse whisper as he closed his eyes once again, his grip on your hand tightening even more as you felt his shaft throb beneath your fingers.

You felt a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. The room was quiet and you could hear the steady rhythm of his breaths and your own heartbeat. Cillian’s body tensed and you could see the strain of pleasure in his face. His eyes remained closed to savor the moment. "That feels so good," he groaned, his voice strained.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, his body trembling beneath your touch. "Don't stop, sweetheart.

We're almost there," Cillian panted, his voice laced with urgency and pleasure. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. You bit your lip, your eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, but you kept your hand moving, guided by his grip.

Cillian's breath hitched, and his body tensed even more. "That's it, Y/N. Just like that," he urged, his voice strained. You could see the muscles in his jaw clench, his lips parting slightly as he let out a low groan. You felt a sense of power and curiosity, wanting to see what would happen next.

However, what happened next surprised you as you felt a sudden warmth and wetness on your hand, and you gasped in shock, your eyes widening as you looked down at Cillian's body.

A thick, white fluid pulsed from him, coating your hand and his length, and you quickly pulled back, a mixture of surprise and curiosity washing over you. 

Your eyes darted to Cillian's face, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, and his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the moment.

"You did good, sweetheart," Cillian murmured, his voice low and husky. You watched as he reached for the towel he had placed next to him earlier, using it to gently clean himself and your hand.

"What was that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"That, sweetheart, is what happens when you make a man feel really good ," Cillian said, his voice still a bit ragged from his exertion.

He sounded pleased, his eyes still closed, as if savoring the aftershocks of his pleasure.

"It's called cum and you made that happen," he added, a hint of pride in his voice.

Cillian’s eyes finally opened, and he looked at you with a soft, almost tender gaze. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment on your cheek.

"So I made you feel good?" you asked, your voice soft and curious. You were still processing everything that had just happened, your mind a whirlwind of new sensations and emotions. You had felt a sense of power, of control, but also a deep sense of vulnerability. You felt a burning heat on the inside of your cheeks and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You had never felt so close to anyone, so intimately connected.

Cillian smiled, his eyes warm and gentle. "Yes, you did. It felt amazing and I think that, maybe next time, you could take my cock into your mouth," he said , his voice soft and gentle, like he was coaxing a wild animal. You flushed deeply, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

The thought of taking him into your mouth made you feel both curious and nervous. You had never done anything like that before, and the idea was both thrilling and terrifying.

Cillian must have seen the unsure look on your face as he quickly added, "But only if you want to. There's no rush, sweetheart. We'll take things at your pace, okay?"

His voice was reassuring, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and trust in him.

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[theconstitutionisgayculture]

I think modern society has major issues with mistaking correlation for causation and it's causing a lot of problems.

For example, some years back, there was a study showing that young children from households with a lot of books were scoring higher on literacy tests and doing better academically, whether or not their parents read to them. So everybody decided that books were magical and their mere presence improved kids' ability to learn, and they started a charity to distribute children's books to low-income families.

Now, on a moral level, there is nothing wrong with this. Very few people would argue that it's bad to give books to poor kids. And it probably did some good for some of those kids. But it didn't have the huge dramatic impact that many people were hoping for, because higher literacy rates were not caused by the presence of books. Both of those things were caused by the same third factor.

What kind of person owns a lot of books? What attributes do they value? What traits would they encourage in their children?

It was never about the books. It was always about the parents.

Now for a more disastrous example:

Decades ago, people noticed that college graduates were getting better jobs and earning more money, and they decided that meant everyone should go to college and then everyone would be more successful.

But that's not what happened.

If a particular achievement is seen as optional, then having that achievement says something about you. Back then, a college degree told employers that a prospective hire was someone who went above and beyond, who was willing to work harder to improve their skills and knowledge.

Once college is treated like it's mandatory, a college degree is scarcely more meaningful than a high school diploma.

And the presence of a degree cannot confer upon you the attitude and work ethic that leads to success any more than the presence of books can bestow literacy skills.

Now we have millions of people who took out massive student loans on the promise of success that are left with mountains of debt and mediocre prospects, and we keep shoveling millions more into increasingly corrupted and worthless schools with that same empty promise.

But it was never about the degree. It was always about the kind of person that earned one.

So, my dad was working for IBM back when corporations started listing college degrees as a requirement for employment. He was a data entry guy for the old style punch card computers, which means when someone wanted to ask the computer something they came to him, he set up the punch card, fed it into the computer, and read out the answer. When all these college graduates started getting hired, his job changed. Now, it was his responsibility to train them how to do his job. But, you sensibly ask, didn't they have college degrees? Didn't they learn all this in college? And the answer is yes, they did have college degrees. They all has MBA's, which taught them nothing about how to work computers. IBM just listed "MBA" as a requirement for every non-secretarial/custodial job because they thought having a large number of college graduates on staff sounded good. So these kids spent four years in college only to come out and get not only a low paying data entry job instead of the middle manager job they were expecting, but once they got that job they needed my dad to give them on the job training they could have gotten four years earlier with no money spent on college if the job listing didn't list an MBA as a requirement. In the stories my dad told me, most of these people quit after a year because they were told in college that this degree would get them a better job, and they didn't want to be lowly data entry people.

And nothing's really changed. Jobs that can easily be taught via on the job training or an apprenticeship model require college degrees. Colleges and guidance counselors lie about what kind of job a graduate can expect. And now you have over educated people loading up the Keurig machine at Starbucks to pay off their student debt because there are too many college graduates all going after the same jobs and not enough of those jobs to go around. Mandatory college has always been a scam. It's an artificial requirement that only exists because businesses think it looks good to hire people who have a piece of paper they can hang on the wall. The fact is, only very specialized jobs where on the job training wouldn't work need a college graduate. But there are billions of dollars at stake in the college racket, so on it goes.

[breelandwalker]

I'm starting to question how much the "old" pagan costumes and festivities were indeed about fertility, sex, etc.

Ronald Hutton claims that there is no evidence in history that the maypole was saw as a phallic symbol, for example. And there are other possible meanings. But you usually just read in books as a matter of fact that it was a phalic representation and the dance around was about fertility etc

I recently read the witche's bible because I was curious about traditional wicca rituals and there is suuch a high focus on how every single costume or holiday was about fertility and sex that honestly it makes me wonder, how much it was indeed about those things and how much is just the interpretation of modern people like Gardner making it about those things

You're hitting the nail on the head without even realizing it, Anon.

SO much of what we think we know about "old pagan customs" comes from books written by Victorian-era occultists. And if there is one thing to be said about Victorian-era occultists, it was that they were horny as FUCK. (And the Edwardians weren't any better.)

These people went around rubber-stamping FERTILITY in big red letters on anything to do with goddesses or springtime or even the most passing reference to pregnancy, childbirth, midwifery, or babies. Literally any excuse for ritual nudity or a sacred orgy. And no, that is not satire. Or a euphemism.

The other thing that can be said about Victorian-era occultists is that quite a lot of them were history buffs and very prolific writers. (If you look at the roster of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and their regular guests, it reads like a Who's Who of the writers of fantastical fiction and poetry at the time.) So the result of that is a whole lot of literature about folklore and "ancient pagan customs" written by people who were filtering what little historical information they had at the time through the lens of their own opinions and those of their colleagues.

(It's worth noting that that "lens" often consisted quite heavily of free-associated ideas not supported by history or things they completely pulled out of their own asses. Leland's "Aradia" is a good example of the "Ancient Sacred Text Given To Me By A Real Witch Who Totally Exists And I Definitely Didn't Write This Myself And Make Up This Claim For Clout" genre.)

Quite unsurprisingly, a lot of these beliefs got absorbed into the roots of the modern witchcraft movement a few decades later, since those were the popular resources available at the time and the same generally-prevailing opinions and biases were still present. So this started WELL before Gardner and his coven were on the scene. They just picked up the thread.

And as we all know, once there's a generation or so of removal from the founding beliefs of a movement, people tend to take the older texts as gospel, regardless of how flawed they might be.

See Also: We Still Have To Talk About The Witch-Cult Hypothesis Because Margaret Murray Wrote The Encyclopedia Britannica Entry On Witchcraft And It Wasn't Updated Until The 1960s.

See Also: We Still Have To Explain The Difference Between Historical Fiction And The Historical Record Because Of The White Goddess And The Mists Of Avalon.

See Also: We Still Have To Talk About The Burning Times Myth Because Raymond Buckland Made That Stupid Fucking Documentary.

See Also: Why The Hell Is Anyone Still Recommending Silver Ravenwolf.

Anyway, the short answer is that yes, your impression is correct, and I'm glad you're reading Hutton and forming that practical context for the witchcraft/pagan literature and media that you encounter.

Keep honing that bullshit detector and best of luck!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage Problems Chapter 4

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon.  Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling.  Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives.  Can they get their spark back?  Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings:  language, forced kiss, eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

Bucky quietly walked inside the house.  What was usually his sanctuary now felt like it held impending doom.  He and Y/N were just barely starting to get on a better footing with each other.  They were supposed to go on a date tomorrow night.  Why did something like this have to happen now?  He trudged up the stairs slowly, the fear and trepidation making him feel dizzy.  He opened his bedroom door, finding Y/N sitting on their bed reading a book.  She looked up at him and smiled.

“Hey Buck.  How was the party?” she asked sweetly.

Bucky smiled back at her hesitantly.  “It was, um, fun, at first,” he said.  “Good to catch up with Steve.”

“What do you mean ‘at first’?  What happened?” Y/N asked, setting aside her book on the nightstand.

Bucky closed the door, walked to her side of the bed and sat facing her next to her crossed legs.  He reached for her hands, and she met him halfway, letting him hold her hands as he kept his gaze down.  “Something…happened,” he whispered.

Y/N’s hands squeezed his.  “What happened?  You’re scaring me, Bubbas.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it was going to explode.  She called him the pet name he hadn’t heard in a long time, but he was also going to possibly hurt her right afterwards.  He met her gaze.  “A girl from work came on to me tonight,” he said.

Y/N blinked.  “Okay,” she said.

“I told her no, but then she…she kissed me,” Bucky’s voice cracked as he stifled a sob.  

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she stared at him for a good long while.  Bucky felt like he was shrinking under her unyielding stare, but he didn’t dare look or pull away.  He felt her try to pull her hands out of his grasp but he tightened his hold.  “No, please,” he gasped.  “I…I didn’t want it.  She just did it, and I froze because I was in shock, but I pushed her away.”  Y/N’s eyes started to fill with tears.  “Pretty mama, please,” Bucky begged, shifting toward her as his own tears started to fall.  “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is you.  Please, you have to believe me.”  She shut her eyes tight and shook her head, fighting back her own cries.  Bucky let go of her hands and cupped her face in his hands.  “Y/N, please.  Please please please, I’m so sorry.  I should have walked away sooner, I should have said no louder, I shouldn’t have frozen.  My love,” he kissed her cheek and she sniffled sadly.  “My pretty mama,” he kissed the tip of her nose.  “My everything.  Baby, please.”

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered.  Bucky pulled away just enough to look at her.  “I do,” she reassured him.  “I just…I’m sorry.  I just couldn’t stop envisioning it and…I’m feeling a lot of very conflicting things right now.”

“I understand,” Bucky nodded.  “I am, too.  I’m so angry, and I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel afraid to tell me,” Y/N said, looking at him sadly.  “I know I haven’t…I haven’t been very, good to be with for a while now–”

Bucky huffed a watery laugh.  “We’ve been in a weird spot lately,” he agreed.  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

Y/N sniffed again and sighed heavily before smiling timidly at him.  “Me neither,” she promised.  

He leaned his forehead against hers.  “Can I ask for something?” he whispered.

“What?” she whispered back.

“I-I need to get it out of my head,” he said.  “I need your lips to be the last on mine.  It just doesn’t feel right.  Please,” he angled his head, his nose nuzzling her nose and his lips hovering over hers.  

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered at his closeness, and when he met her gaze he saw the desire there that he hadn’t seen for a while.  Her eyes flickered across his face, then she slightly nodded.  That was all the permission he needed, and he leaned in and gently kissed her.  Y/N slowly kissed him back, her lips featherlight against his.  But within a few seconds she suddenly reached out and gripped his shirt in her fingers, pulling him toward her harder, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  Bucky whimpered, his hands moving to the back of her neck then down her back.  Their combined breathing got heavier, pants and sighs filling the room as he hoisted her up and into his lap, having her straddle him as he licked into her mouth, tasting her tongue with his own.  

Y/N’s hips started to grind on top of him, and he shuddered at how good it felt to have her on him like this again.  “Can I have you, pretty mama?” Buck whispered, kissing down to her neck and nipping at her ear.  “God, please let me have you.”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.  “Please Bubbas.”

He groaned at the pet name then flipped them over so she was on her back.  He quickly stripped her of her pajamas and underwear, pulling his own clothes off in record time before hovering over her, his hands exploring her like she was brand new.  And in a lot of ways, she was.  “I’ve missed you,” he said as he kissed down her chest to her breasts, giving them plenty of attention after not seeing them for so long.  

“I’ve missed you, too,” Y/N whispered, her fingers running through his hair and scratching his scalp the way he liked.

It sent shivers down his spine and he smiled against her skin.  Bucky and Y/N used to have a good sex life, making time for each other and taking care of each other regularly, so it was strange for them to not indulge in one another for so long.  This felt like their first time all over again, getting reacquainted with the way her body had changed after three kids and the beginning stages of aging.  Bucky wasn’t as fit as he used to be, either, but Y/N’s hands still felt him all over as if he was the most handsome thing she’d ever seen.

Bucky’s kisses slid down her body until he reached her pussy, and he situated himself on the bed so he could wrap his arms around her thighs and spread her wide open for him.  “I haven’t, um, shaved for a while,” Y/N said suddenly, sounding hesitant.

“I don’t care,” Bucky shook his head, smirking at her before he dipped his head down and started eating her out.  Y/N gasped, her hips twitching and bucking against his face.  His grip on her thighs tightened, not letting her squirm away from him.  Y/N’s hands were shaking by her sides, and at a particularly fast flicking of his tongue against her clit she reached down and gripped his hair in her right hand, her left hand resting against the side of his face, randomly scratching at his beard.  

Bucky reached one hand back around from her thigh, bringing it up to her pussy.  His fingers rubbed at her lower lips as he focused his mouth on her clit.  She was already becoming so wet for him that he smiled as he prodded one finger at her entrance, slowly pushing it all the way in until he was second knuckle deep.  Y/N whined quietly, and it made him feel proud at getting a noise out of her, something so involuntary and primal.  He slowly added a second finger inside her, lapping at her clit and her lips.  He was slow and gentle in his movements in and out of her, curling his fingers just lightly inside as his other hand guided her hips gyrating on his face and his hand.

He hummed against her, pulling a shudder through her whole body, her legs shaking over his shoulders.  Bucky sucked on her clit harshly, his fingers picking up in pace.  Y/N’s hips bucked against his face, and his arm still wrapped around her leg moved up to hold her down over her hips.  “Cum for me, Y/N,” he groaned.  

Y/N stiffened, her fingers nearly ripping at his hair as she slapped a hand over her mouth and moaned, cumming all over his fingers.  Bucky licked up everything he could, prolonging her orgasm for as long as possible as he lazily pumped his fingers in and out of her a while longer.  He finally came to a stop and pulled them out, sucking them into his mouth as he sat up and situated himself between her legs.  

“Fuck, Bubbas,” Y/N sighed.  “Holy shit…”

Bucky leaned down and kissed her, letting her taste the last remnants of herself on his lips.  “You did so good, pretty mama.  So good for me.”  He leaned back up and gripped his cock in his hand, stroking himself and then slapping his cock against her clit, making her jerk and moan.  “How do you want me, love?”

“Like this,” Y/N said, looking up at him pleadingly.  “Just this, please.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky smirked, running the tip of his cock through her slit.  “I’ll do whatever you want.  What does this pretty little pussy need?”  Y/N’s hips shook as he nudged her clit again.  “Does it need to be filled?”

“Yes!” she whimpered.

Bucky couldn’t wait any longer.  It had been too long, and after getting to taste her and have her at his mercy now, his cock was throbbing in need.  “Alright, pretty mama,” he said lowly.  He aimed himself at her entrance, then slowly started pushing in.  They both winced at the tightness and the stretch, and Bucky could tell she hadn’t been masturbating or doing anything to take care of herself for a long time.  “Fuck, love, so tight,” he hissed.  “Jesus, it’s been so long.  You haven’t done anything?  At all?”

Y/N shook her head, looking embarrassed.  “I was just…too tired.  Too busy.”

Bucky whimpered.  Not only had they taken advantage of Y/N and all she did for them, but she had given up taking care of herself in multiple ways to keep up with the demands of their family life.  He leaned down and started kissing and licking at her nipples, helping to stimulate her.  “I’m so sorry, pretty mama,” he murmured against her skin.  “You deserve the world, and I couldn’t give that to you–”

“No,” Y/N said, pulling his head up as he finally slid all the way in.  She kissed him sweetly, running her fingers through his hair.  “You’ve worked so hard for me, for all of us.  I was trying to help take on the rest.  But all I did was end up burning myself out.”

Bucky nuzzled his nose against her cheek, kissing her all over her face.  “I’m still sorry,” he murmured.  “Can you forgive me?”

Y/N’s chest shook on a sob as he rolled his hips into her.  “I forgive you,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

Bucky sighed as he held her close, continuing to kiss her everywhere he could reach.  “Thank you.  Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered back, not trusting his voice.  He licked and sucked at her neck as his hips picked up the pace, but still thrusting into her slowly.  He wanted to take his time, to feel her and indulge in her.  Y/N’s arms wrapped around his back, her nails scratching down his shoulder blades as he pushed into her as far as he could.  Her hot, panting breaths huffed over his neck and shoulder, her sweet little moans and whimpers tickling his ear, and he swore he’d never heard anything more beautiful in his life.  After a torturous amount of time for Bucky to hold off on his pleasure, he could feel her pussy flutter around him.  “Fuck, you gonna cum, pretty mama?  Yeah?  Cum all over my cock while I fill you up?”

Y/N shivered, nodding frantically as her hands moved down his back to his ass, her fingers digging into the cheeks of his ass and pulling him into her harder.  “Bubbas…Bubbas please.  Bucky…”

“You want it harder?” Bucky smirked, pulling away just enough to look at her, staying within inches of her face.  “You want me to fuck you hard, love?”

“Yes!” Y/N squeaked.  “Fuck me harder.  Faster!”

Bucky positioned himself slightly differently and held her tight.  “Whatever you want, mama,” he said, then started thrusting fast and hard into her.

Y/N gasped, her mouth falling open wide.  She hugged him tight again, trying to hold in any loud moans so they wouldn’t wake up the kids.  “Oh my god!” she loudly whispered.

“That’s it, Y/N, take it!  Show me you forgive me, love.  Show me you forgive me with your cum,” he grunted.

Y/N started shaking uncontrollably, then choked on a sharp gasp and stiffened under him.  Her head wrenched back and before she could scream Bucky kissed her hard, swallowing her noises as she came.  Her pussy clamped down impossibly hard on his cock, her cum drenching his hips and the sheets below, her nails digging into his back.  The mix of pain and pleasure spurred Bucky on as he fucked her through her orgasm then finally came deep inside her, pumping her full like he said he would, his own loud groan being covered by her kiss.

Y/N twitched from the rippling pleasure, and Bucky slowly broke the kiss, his lips grazing across her face and down her neck.  “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re amazing,” he whispered.  “Thank you for forgiving me.  Thank you, my pretty mama.  My love.  Shit…” he shuddered as her pussy fluttered around him with the aftershocks of her orgasm.  “You feel so good.  God, I love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N murmured, her hands softly rubbing his back, soothing out the scratches she caused.  “I love you Bubbas.  Love you…I’m so sorry–”

“I’m sorry, too,” Bucky said, kissing her lips.  “But we can work through it, right?  Together?”

She smiled at him.  “Yeah.  You and me against the world, right?”

He smiled at their little mantra they used to say to each other all the time.  “You and me against the world.”

@cjand10 @sebastians-love @sherwoodforesttales @shanksstrawhat @sagexsenorita @abaker74 @vunblr @doodle-with-rhyrhy

[0wlettie]

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

⏾⋆.˚─── caleb x fem!reader

⏾⋆.˚─── synopsis: you've been avoiding caleb recently because you've just realized how you truly feel about him, but when life hits you hard one day, you realize that you might need him more than you thought you would...

⏾⋆.˚─── tags: 16.9k, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, clingy, crybaby!reader, pet names (princess, good girl), light D/s dynamics, crying (but in sexy way), dirty talk, slight degradation/dumbification, possessive behavior, (because it wouldn't be a caleb fic if he wasn't at least a little bit possessive) fingerfucking, pussy eating, unprotected sex, subspace but it isn't really talked about, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

⏾⋆.˚─── ao3 if you want to read there ^^

⏾⋆.˚─── a/n: this is my first ever lads piece and i worked very hard on this absolute monster of a fic, so i hope whoever happens to come across this enjoys it; beta'd by me so any mistakes are my own; title comes from IKUK by ONEUS because i played the fuck outta that song writing this and it slaps ! as this is nsfw Minors Do Not Interact (ageless blogs will be blocked)

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

Burying yourself further into the depths of your hoodie, you slowly make your way up to your apartment. The elevator is currently out of commission; some sort of mechanical error, the bright orange note taped to the cautioned off doors stated, so you’re forced to make the grueling journey to the seventh floor by stairs alone.

After an eight-hour long shift working at a department store nearly an hour away by bus, you’re maybe a little more than upset at the prospect of being on your feet longer than you really have to be. Unfortunately, you’re left with little other options at this point. It wasn’t like you could magically teleport to the seventh floor. Sighing long and loud, you rub your eyes.

“Fucking whatever, man.” You grumble to yourself, readjusting your bookbag before turning around and heading to the stairs. The sight of all those floors is intimidating, but you force your feet to move regardless. Even if the soles of your aching feet are screaming at you to stop, you continue on. Once or twice you lean against the wall for a bit of a breather, only moving again when you’re startled by the notifications of your socials on your phone.

You are so fucking tired.

But still, you take one more painful step. Then another. Then another. One by one by one until—

‘Home sweet home.’ You think a little hysterically, barely glancing at the shiny gold 713 before pushing your way through the door. After, of course, fumbling through your various pockets looking for your keys. Your fingers are shaking slightly, but that’s easily ignored once you finally make it inside. You inhale sharply, blindly feeling for the door behind you as you toss your bag to the floor. You take in your apartment as you close your door with your back, absently kicking off your shoes.

To your right is your bathroom, to your left is your ‘bedroom’ and straight ahead is the kitchenette. It's a cozy little thing, your place; a studio you found for cheap a few months after graduating highschool three years ago. It’s not the greatest place—there's water damage on various parts of the ceiling, a few moldy spots in the bathroom that refuse to leave, the a/c unit does shit all during the summer, there’s basically no insulation so it’s freezing during the winter and you can hear everything going on with your neighbors upstairs and downstairs. Oh, and the indoor washer-dryer unit never works so you have to haul your dirty laundry down the elevator once a week to the nearest laundromat if you don’t want to smell like ass.

This place is a dump, but it's your beloved dump—all the plushies, figures and books lining the shelves prove that fact. Even if it’s a little chillier now that the sun’s gone down, the familiarity would usually be enough to slow your heart rate and lower your defenses.

It’s not enough, though. That thrum of anxiety still runs through your veins, and you’re about three seconds away from hyperventilating. You’ve gone past the tired phase of your day, and are now verging onto the ‘mental breakdown’ part. Groaning and pretending like you don’t feel the familiar burn in the corners of your eyes, you turn towards your little kitchen area and shuffle in. It's pure muscle memory that has you reaching for the cabinet above the stove, pulling out the hot cocoa mix and your favorite mug in seconds. Your routine has been the same for months now—hot chocolate, some cookies, your favorite plush throw and a show you’ve already seen before to help numb the panic. It was the most effective method you’ve come up with, the only one to work long enough for you to get some sleep.

Well. It was the second most effective. The first was currently a two-hour drive away at college, studying for a career in the aerospace field.

You bite down on your lip hard when tears pool in your eyes, and unconsciously, your gaze is drawn to the cluster of polaroids pinned to the front of your refrigerator. Photos of various things cover the pale surface—the sky at dusk, a stray cat that occasionally shows up by the park down the street, fireworks from a festival you went to last year, a silly picture of you in the mirror that’s mostly the flash of a camera—but the one that stands out to you the most is underneath a cartoonish magnet of an airplane.

You’re pressed together cheek to cheek with a boy a few years older than you at the time. A huge grin splits your face, your eyes squinting closed from the glare of the camera. His smile is a little smaller, controlled. But there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds two fingers up behind your head, his other arm holding onto the camera off screen.

It’s you and Caleb Xia. Your best friend in the entire world. 

The man you’re deeply in love with.

Seeing his face after months of barely any contact is enough for the ache in your chest to fully affect you. Your hands shake so badly that you accidentally end up dropping your mug. You’re too slow to catch it, and you watch in numb detachment as it falls and shatters against your wooden floors, shards bouncing off the floor to land on the soft purple cotton of your kitty socks.

You promptly burst into tears, squatting down to cup your knees as you cry loudly into the space you’ve made.

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

Thick, salty tears run warm tracks down your cheeks as you sob into the open air. You try to blink them away as fast as you can, and when that doesn’t work, you roughly scrub your face. You haven’t cried like this in a while, but it was a long time coming. You were on the verge of a meltdown—you could feel it as days passed you by. That doesn’t make you feel any better, though. Not when you’re kneeling on the ground trying to pick up shards of ceramic while blind from your tears. It’s a recipe for disaster, but nothing can really ruin your day more than this. You certainly don’t care if you accidentally cut yourself, not when it feels like your very world is ending.

“Shit!” You lose your grip on one of the shards you grab. You quickly yank your hand back to avoid getting cut as it falls back to the ground. It breaks even further upon impact, and a hysterical scream threatens to erupt from your mouth, but you hastily swallow it back down. The walls are thin and you don’t need a nosy neighbor to see you like this.

‘Can’t blame anyone but yourself, dumbass.’ The voice in your head berates you. No one told you to push away the one person who could make it all better—you were the one who decided that all on your own. It’s painful to admit, even to yourself, but it’s true. You’re trying your damnedest to avoid Caleb, and you’ve been doing so for a couple months by now.

It’s easy to blame conflicting schedules and the hours separating your homes for the distance. Easy to pin the blame on your exhaustion after long days, his work as a part-time mechanic, the fact that you’re an adult and you can’t keep going to him when you just feel like it. Waking him up at three in the morning because you suddenly feel lonely. Calling him during work or class because you have to tell him about this funny post you saw on one of your socials. Cuddling and hanging all over him because touching him makes you happy and warm and safe.

Kimberly—a coworker of yours—was right to low-key call you out on your seemingly unhealthy dependence on Caleb. As embarrassing as it is to admit, it was her offhand comment that got you to fully realize how you feel about him.

Wow, with how much you cling to the guy I was sure he was your boyfriend or something.

Except Caleb isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your best friend—the only friend you can confidently say you have.

But the thought of him becoming more than that was surprisingly…tempting. An idea you never dared to contemplate was suddenly brought to the forefront of your mind and now you couldn’t escape how right it would feel. But those thoughts were scary, and there were times where you almost slipped up and said something more than strictly platonic. You could only imagine the look on Caleb’s face as he’d let you down gently—because there was no way he’d ever consider you as a girlfriend, not when he still views you as nothing more than his childhood best friend, a little kid sister. It hurts, that realization; cuts deeply in a way you’ve never felt before and that’s when it truly clicks in your head.

Unconsciously, you think you always knew how you really felt about Caleb. It’s hard to pinpoint an exact time when you didn’t care deeply for him. A thousand little moments along the course of your lives together just eventually added up into something stronger than platonic affection; something that consumed your mind, body and soul until nothing was left for him to take. Not that you were trying to blame him for your own emotions, it’s just…hard to keep yourself out of his orbit. Harder still to try and live with these feelings of yours. So you took the coward’s way out and just…pushed them away.

You stopped calling so randomly. Stopped bothering him at work. Stopped sending him random links to nearby cafes where you could go together. Stopped inviting him over for sleepovers and movie nights. Started to decline his invitations out, his subtle questions of spending time together, his concerned texts until…

Until here you are; crying on the floor of your dumpy apartment, alone and cleaning up the broken shards of your favorite mug. A mug Caleb gave to you as a housewarming gift. It was one of the cutest little things you'd ever seen; stubby, round and in the shape of a panda bear, it fits your aesthetic to a T. It was large enough to carry at least two cups worth of tea or hot chocolate, and even though it was a bit bulky for your own smaller hands, it made your day whenever you did use it. And now it’s in a bunch of tiny pieces scattered along your wooden floors.

A fresh wave of tears fills your eyes as you stare down at one of the panda’s broken eyeballs. The furious churning in your gut makes you feel sick and more than anything you wish you weren’t here anymore. In this cold, lonely and broken apartment of yours. You wish you were with Caleb.

You miss him.

You miss his stupidly tall self. How safe and protected he makes you feel. How much he makes you laugh when you're sad. How comforting his hands are whenever you accidentally hurt yourself. You miss the gentle, teasing cadence of his voice; the depth of his pretty colored eyes; the security and warmth of his hugs. You miss him so fucking much.

“I’m such a mess.” You whisper roughly, trying to wipe away the tears as they fall, hoping they’ll stop soon. But they don’t, slowly but surely continuing to wet your flushed and puffy face. You groan and cover your eyes with your balled up fists, blindly sitting back on your ass and scooting along the floor until your back hits the nearest surface. You bring your knees up until they rest underneath your chin, wrapping your arms around them and squeezing.

There’s a brewing ache settling in your chest; a gaping hole where Caleb still sits despite everything. You were the one who viciously dug him out, but you still can’t help but feel sorry for yourself anyway. It’s not like he doesn’t still reach out, but you feel like there’s this wide canyon between the two of you now. You don’t know if you can even force yourself to reach out first, not when you feel so guilty for ignoring him in the first place. 

Unmoored and lost in waves of pain and loneliness, you sit there for what feels like an eternity, drowning over and over and over again. As time passes, though, that raging sea calms into something manageable. Your tears eventually dry up and your breathing evens out a bit, but you still feel like you’re on that precipice. Like one wrong move will have you slipping into a free fall, back into the angry, churning sea of your heartache.

RING! RING-RINNG!

An obnoxiously loud tone rings out from your stomach, and you just about jump ten feet into the air.

“Fuck!” You scream, accidentally hitting your head on the countertop above you. You yelp, squeezing your eyes shut as you fumble through your hoodie pocket for your phone with one hand, the other going to gingerly feel around the throbbing area of your skull. You recognize the familiar tone and it sends your slightly calmed heart back into overdrive; beating so fiercely that you’re afraid it’s going to burst through your ribcage. The pain immediately turns into something unimportant as you dig your phone out of your pocket.

Your eyes are locked onto a smiling photo of Caleb. It’s him in his mechanic’s uniform, unbuttoned halfway through and showing the white tank top underneath, grease smeared all over him and his clothes with his sleeves half rolled up. He’s unfairly and stupidly handsome and you hate that it’s the photo you have saved for him. You hesitate as the ringing continues. Should you pick it up? You’re still so hurt and lonely, but do you really have the courage to answer after you’ve been treating him so unfairly this entire time?

One more look at his smiling face has you immediately folding like a wet paper napkin, however, and you answer the call moments later.

Except that it’s a facetime rather than a phone call, a fact you realize once your face greets you after you pick up. Luckily, his eyes are drawn off to the side, so you quickly turn the camera around to face your socked feet. You frantically curse inside of your head, but there’s nothing to be done now. You don’t have the heart to hang up on him, not when you can see every little detail of his pretty face. The sight already has you feeling better, even when he hasn't even acknowledged you yet.

You’re a weak, weak person.

“You know, when someone facetimes you it's because they want to see your face.” The clear, teasing tone of his voice causes your cheeks to darken, his eyes flicking up and then down to lock onto your feet pointedly. The last time you two were speaking by voice was…maybe two and a half weeks ago? A far cry from how you used to call him at least twice a day. Despite the snark, you can’t help but savor the warmth in his words. Still, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t reply somehow.

“Fuck off, you know I don’t like facetimes, Caleb.” You grumble, attempting to be normal but you fail within seconds. Your voice cracks halfway through your sentence and there’s an audible stuffiness to your nose that carries over to your speech. It’s so painfully obvious that you’ve been crying.

That amiable cheer of his dissolves immediately, his eyes snapping to stare directly into the camera as his smile morphs into a noticeable frown.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His eyes dart over the screen frantically, like he can figure out the answer based on your socked feet and kitchen floor alone. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he somehow did—Caleb’s strangely good with small details and can tell your mood just by looking for your subtle microexpressions. While you know some others around him have found it a bit strange, you just think it's sweet how deeply he cares about things like that. It’s…cute, to you. You like that he pays so close attention.

You see some of that perceptiveness when Caleb zeroes in on something small near your feet. His eyes narrow slightly, but before you can even look to see what exactly he’s staring intently at, his eyes are raising up to stare back into the camera. Like he can see you even when it isn’t facing you directly.

“Turn your camera around.” 

You bite your bottom lip at the seriousness of his tone. The statement sounds more like an order and while normally you’d at least tease him for it, maybe even sass him back for the firmness of his words, you just can’t bring yourself to ignore him. Not when it feels like you can finally breathe after what feels like ages.

Still, you hesitate.

Rubbing your cheek, you look down at the ‘switch camera’ button. It would be so easy to just let Caleb in right now, to let him see just what a fucking mess you are so he can make everything be okay again. But your coworkers' words float through your mind—how strange it is to be so reliant on someone when you yourself are a grown ass adult. Nervously, you rub your feet together, taking a bit of comfort in the soft fabric rubbing against your skin. You don’t know what to do…both sides are warring within you and the more you try and decide, the harder it is to come to a decision.

That’s when Caleb speaks up, almost as if he can sense your indecision.

“Tell me what’s wrong, princess. You know I can make it feel better.” You breath hitches, your heart thumping so fast that all the blood rushes to your ears in an instant. Caleb’s voice is so soothing—so soft and sweet and comforting that tears prick the corners of your eyes. You want to be with him so badly that it makes your chest ache with longing. 

“Caleb..!” You sniffle out, hiding behind your hand when his gaze becomes too much for you. Your face feels so hot that you’re afraid of spontaneously combusting. God, he knows how to make you weak and you would be angry at him if it didn’t make you feel so small and safe.

“You don’t have to worry with me around—you know that I’ll take care of you, don’t you? C’mon, lemme help you out like you need me to.” You peek above your hand, shivering at the intensity of his stare. It’s in stark contrast with his softly murmured words, and your brain goes a little fuzzy the longer you meet his gaze.

Caleb has always taken care of you, even when you were nothing but the lonely, annoying little girl who lived next door. Three years his junior and acting like a crybaby at even the slightest of inconveniences, he should’ve naturally found you insufferable. But he never once turned you away, no matter how many times he had to dry your tears, play with you, help you study and so, so much more. He always made sure you were looked after when your parents were too busy to even care, bringing you over to dinner with his parents or even sharing some of his lunch with you when he knew you hadn’t eaten. Caleb has always been there to make it better, to take care of you and make all of your worries fade away. Why wouldn’t he do the same now? He’s completely right—you need him.

“You promise?’ You whisper, the tears pooling in your eyes overflowing as you hiccup.

“I promise.” He says solemnly. Silently, you reach out and press the reverse camera button.

His eyes track rapidly over your face once the camera switches, no doubt cataloging the very obvious evidence of your crying fest. The thickness of his brows furrow into slants as he takes in your face, a frown pulling the corners of his lips down as concern lights up his dusk-purple irises. You stare at each other for a few quiet beats, the only noise coming from Caleb’s end as he moves to somewhere a little quieter. The slight sounds of murmuring and laughter gradually fade away as he goes somewhere private, the lights casting a warm glow over his complexion as he sits down. 

‘Maybe he was at a party? Or a friend’s house?’

“...Bad day?” Clearly, he’s waiting for you to open up before he does anything else. You shy away from his knowing gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed for your tears. You’re an adult who pays rent and taxes—you should be more than capable of handling these emotions on your own but…but you also can’t help but like that Caleb wants to help you too.

He’s obviously waiting patiently for you to reply, but you stall just a little longer. Tugging at a strand of your hair that fell out of your bun, chewing on your bottom lip as you count the handles on your cabinets, tugging at the loose thread of your hoodie pocket…the excuses continue until you have nothing else to do but stare at Caleb. It’s only then that you begin to tell him about your day, underneath the gentle patience of his warm gaze.

From your alarm going off a half hour late so you had to rush through your normal routine in order to catch the bus on time. To the older woman who yelled at you for not having the right dress size for her daughter’s baby shower and complaining to your manager. To the weird, creepy homeless man who harassed you at the bus stop and even followed you on until the bus driver noticed and kicked him off a few stops before yours. To then have to walk up seven flights of stairs because the elevator all of a sudden wanted to have a problem today of all days. And now, with your feet carefully tucked away from the mess you made earlier when you clumsily dropped your favorite mug ever and broke it into a million little pieces. It was all just too fucking much and you felt like you were going crazy because you should be able to handle these events but you just can’t—

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Just breathe with me, okay?” Caleb’s voice is like a beacon in the night; a guiding light for you to follow to safety lost amongst the roaring, crashing waves of your turbulent emotions. Shakily, you inhale deep and slow breaths, following Caleb’s instructions as he continues to stare at you. You feel ridiculous crying again, and something on your face must show that because Caleb shoots you a look.

“Stop that already. There’s nothing wrong with feelin’ this deeply, princess. Especially since you've already had such a long day.” You toss him a pout, trying and failing to not let his kind words affect you. He sees through your attempt easily, a helplessly fond expression taking over the worry as he watches you wipe the remaining tear off your cheeks. A comfortable silence follows his words, and you take the time to compose yourself a little. As much as you hate to admit, talking to Caleb did wonders for your current mood. You feel a whole lot better than you did before.

“How we doin’? Better, now?”

You nod, rubbing away the last of your stray tears. He smiles softly, eyes taking in your calmed expression.

“Good, good.” He mumbles, and you finally notice a peculiar jangling sound emanate from his side of the phone. Tilting your head slightly, you focus your attention back on Caleb. Before, when he called, he was dressed in a casual graphic-muscle tee and the shining silver chain you had gifted him when he first went away to college. Now, there was a leather jacket tossed over the shirt, and judging from the echo and the faint ringing sound, it looked like he was in a…car?!

‘He wasn’t–!’

“Caleb…please tell me you aren’t coming over to my place now!?” He shoots you a cheeky smile in response—something that makes panic and delight swell within your lower belly so fast that you have no idea what you’re feeling more. Logic wins out, however, and you try to dissuade him as quickly as possible.

“Caleb, it’s 8:30 p.m. on a Friday night! With traffic it’ll be at least a three hour trip!”

“Mah, it’s no big deal at all. I only have one class tomorrow and even if I do miss it, it won’t be too much of a hit. No biggie.” He says flippantly, shrugging his shoulders with a half-smile. You suddenly want to reach through the camera to smack him on the back of his head. This is not a ‘no biggie’ matter! A five to six hour round trip is just ridiculous, even for your best friend.

“Caleb!”

“Princess!” He tosses back mockingly, and you fight back the urge to melt. He knows that little nickname of his is unfair—it’s why he’s abusing it so thoroughly now. But this just feels like way too much, especially since you’re feeling a lot better than before.

“I-I’m fine now, there’s no need for you to go out of your way like this…”

He pauses, and you can see in his hands are the keys to his car. He shoots you a look as he lowers his hand, one that sends a bolt of heat through your veins.

“Then tell me not to come.”

“Wh-what?”

“Tell me, then. If you really don’t want me to come over, then say it.” You open your mouth, ready to do just that but you falter at his expectant face. As much as you were protesting before, the thought of seeing him in person—of feeling his big, warm hands around you makes your chest squeeze painfully. You easily acquiesce after a few moments of staring into his eyes, groaning into the palm of your hand to avoid his smug expression. Though, when you glance back at him, that little curl to his lips is still there—prominent when combined with the bright and satisfied look in his eyes.

“That’s exactly what I thought. I’ll see you soon, then.”

You murmur out something vaguely coherent, but Caleb doesn’t let you go without one last goodbye.

“Bye, princess.’’

“...goodbye, Caleb.’’

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

Freshly showered and an apartment as tidy as you can make it with thirty minutes left—glass cleaned up and everything—you anxiously wait on the futon that serves as your bed. Your skin is still a little dewy from the water, and your hair is a bit wet, but it’s safely twisted and pinned up into two buns on top of your head. Dressed in a soft and worn pair of grey sweats and an oversized maroon hoodie that you’re ninety percent sure is Caleb’s, you’re as comfortable you can possibly get at the moment. With a nest of plush and colorful throws as well as a few plushies to keep you company, you recline back on the futon, currently in its couch mode. You try to make yourself look as natural as possible, but an anxious tingle still remains low in your belly.

This will be the first time seeing Caleb in months and it’s nerve wracking.

You have no idea how to even act around him. Will he bring up the distance between you both? Will he avoid it? Or will he just wait for you to eventually tell him what’s wrong—something that you’ve done in the past on numerous occasions. Hiding things from Caleb never really is a thing you do; he’s just too good at figuring you out, and you have this compulsion to spill your guts whenever you stare at him too long.

But how would you even go about explaining it all? 

“Ugh, I hate this.” You groan, covering your face with one of your plushies as you curl up on the futon. Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel now. So much for trying to be self-sufficient. You ended up having to depend on Caleb yet again to help you. And he was driving all the way to Linkon! Three hours was a long time, and you know he’s had a full day of classes and work, so he was no doubt exhausted. Not to mention the stairs! Fuck, you really are the worst, aren’t you?

You curl up even tighter as the embarrassment blooms into bright and ugly shame. Tears push at the corners of your eyes again and you wish you could stop crying already, but you just can’t. Sniffling, you rub your cheek against the silky-smooth fur of your seal plush. Another gift from Caleb—a birthday one, actually. You both had spent the day at the mall where you two went around for hours. He won the little guy in a crane game that was outside of one of the cutesy stores you like to peek your head in occasionally. It had taken a few more tries than he would have liked—his words verbatim—but you eventually left the mall with one more plush heavier.

‘More evidence that I need to grow up.’ You puff out your cheeks before blowing out a loud breath. Yeah, you were never going to give up your collection of plushies. Childish or not, you deserve to have sweet, cute little guys you can cuddle up to when you need a bit of happiness. With one last cheek rub to your seal, you slowly sit up and pat your cheeks. Glancing at the clock, you realize that Caleb’s got about fifteen more minutes or so. 

“Maybe I can order something for us to eat? That fried chicken place that he likes so much should still be open now...” Opening up your phone, you’re about to tap the food delivery service app, but a knock at your door stops you. You blink, confused, before Caleb’s muffled voice comes from behind the heavy, brown wood.

“You mind gettin’ the door?” 

You scramble up from your seat, flailing a little when your feet get tangled up in your blankets. The struggle you go through is loud and obvious, so by the time you get the door open, Caleb’s smile is wide and amused.

“Doin’ alright there, princess?” You opt to ignore his rhetorical question, glancing down at the bulging white bag dangling from his left hand. Double bagged you can’t really tell what’s in it—just that it’s full and heavy looking, a logo of a nearby convenience store on the front. You glance back up at his smiling face. Normally, you’d have already jumped him, and your usual song and dance involves you hanging off of his neck like a monkey while he ushers his way inside; lightly bickering all the while. However…you’re trying to be considerate here. He’s likely tired from all the work he’s had today, so pouncing on him like some overexcited puppy wouldn’t be welcome, you’re sure. Instead, you opt for something a lot more toned down.

“Did you really buy snacks? I was gonna just order something for us. To, y’know, make up for all that gas you used.” You pout a little, pulling Caleb in by his wrist and kicking the door shut behind him. The warmth from his skin seeps into your hand, and you fight the urge to wrap yourself around him like a koala. Face feeling hot, you pretend like your thoughts aren’t totally embarrassing and pull him towards the futon. You carefully keep your eyes trained on the chains dangling from his jeans instead of meeting the stare you can feel boring through your forehead. 

Before you can get very far, though, he gently stops you by tugging his wrist back a little, mindful not to dislodge your own hold. He herdes you to your kitchenette with a little snort, depositing the bag in his hand onto the countertop with a muted ‘thump’.

“Why order out when I can just make you somethin’ instead?” He raises a brow, and you let go of his wrist so he can shrug out of his leather jacket. The thought of a home cooked meal sounds more than appealing at the moment, especially coming from Caleb. You swear that if he wasn’t so set on that aerospace engineering stuff that he’d be an amazing private chef. You tell him as much while he drapes his jacket over a metal hook drilled into the wall near the counter, belly growing warm at the sound of his laughter and the visual of his bare, muscled arms.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but I don’t think I’m that good.” His smile is a little lopsided once he turns back to you, but it’s the way he opens his arms that truly turns that warmth into something scorching.

“Before the food, though, I think there’s somethin’ you’re forgetting to give me, hm?”

You inhale sharply, your lower lip trembling as you look at his face. His expression is a mask of calm, but there’s an anticipatory sort of fire in his eyes, and you realize that he wants you to jump him like you would normally. Resolve cracking once again into pieces, you immediately jump into his spread arms. Your own limbs fly up to wrap around his neck, and you stand on your tippy toes for only a second before his arms surround you, lifting until your legs wrap around his waist. He squeezes you tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder while you hide away in the crook of his neck, your trembling hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.

The cologne he wears floods your nose—something deep and masculine that makes you think of late night drives, clear lakes and winter nights. That familiar scent instantly has you sagging in his hold, trusting that he’s strong enough to carry your body weight as you press even closer to him. His warmth, his scent, the strength in his arms and the low, soothing hum he starts when you inevitably let loose a few tears and sob a little; all of it causes you to feel human—something you haven’t been feeling in a long, long while. You vow to yourself to never avoid him ever again—you think you would actually just keel over and die if you have to live without his hugs.

“I missed you.” Your teary voice is muffled by his throat, but he understands you perfectly regardless.

“Missed you too, princess.” One of the hands supporting your waist slides up your spine, stopping when it reaches the nape of your neck. He rests his hand there, fingers absently playing with the baby hairs at the base as you rub your nose against his neck. Your face feels like it’s pure magma with the way it burns, and your heart is beating so fast that you’re positive Caleb can feel it, with how close you two are pressed together. As flustered as this is making you feel, however, there is a part of you that’s just melting into the easy affection between you two. A part that’s growing the longer you’re touching him.

It feels so good to be in his arms again, to feel him enveloping you, keeping you safe and protected. The slow rise and fall of his chest soothes you, and your slight sniffles calm down. Sleepily, you rub your nose against his throat again, the action surprising a low chuckle out of him that makes your brain go blank with contentment. Eventually, though, you have to part. So, with one last squeeze, Caleb pats your back and gently lowers you to the ground. You only realize you’re pouting when one of his large hands comes up to squish your cheeks together. You squawk in protest, using one of your own hands to swat at his hand before he lets you go. 

“Don’t do that!”

“Then don’t look like that. Makes me wanna bully you when you’re acting cute.” The smile on his face is teasing, but there’s something contemplative in his gaze as he regards you. 

Your face flushes a blazing red, that sleepy soft feeling evaporating in an instant. His voice echoes loudly in your head as your eyes widen. Did he just…call you cute? No, he said you were acting cute. But, doesn’t that mean the same thing? Doesn’t it? You feel like you’re about to go insane from his flippant words, and you bring your hands up to cover your hot face in embarrassment. This kind of banter is normal for you two—it’s supposed to be normal, but now it’s all too much. You can’t…you can’t deal with him talking like that, not when you’ve just noticed how you really feel about him!

A strange expression flits across his face after he takes stock of you, but before you can even think to ask, the look is gone and he slings an arm over your shoulder. He pulls you into his chest, the smile audible in his voice as he leads you into the kitchen.

“Alright, I’ve got a few options we can choose from…”

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

You end up choosing something simple but delicious—ramen! 

Your kitchen area is small, but composed of two separate counters; one connected to the wall in an L-shape with the sink, microwave and stove, the other splitting the area in half. Caleb is working near the sink and the stove, all of the ingredients spread out in an organized fashion. The water is set on the stove getting hot, the packs of noodles placed on the counter by it. Various toppings litter the surface of the counter—eggs, some seaweed, what looks like bok choy and pork belly. He knows it’s your absolute favorite and the thought of him specifically going out of his way to buy you something makes your heart thump inside of your chest painfully.

You’re sitting on top of the second counter, lighty swinging your feet back and forth as you watch him work. A heavy, almost burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you do. He looks…at home, here, like he belongs in your kitchen. Moving about with an easy finesse that speaks of his intimate knowledge of your apartment.

How he only uses the first two burners because the back flames don’t get hot enough; how he knows exactly where you keep your pots and pans and other kitchen tools; how he knows that the cool water doesn’t flow from the faucet so he grabs one of the water bottles from out of the fridge; how he expertly maneuvers in your kind of cramped kitchenette despite his height, dodging around sharp corners and the hanging overhead lights like it’s instinct. It’s all too fucking much for you to take in. Like some sort of rom-com, domestic fantasy brought to life. The soft lofi station playing in the background of your apartment from your speaker only cements that fact. 

It should be nothing new to you—it is nothing new to you. Caleb and you have ended up in the kitchen together countless times before in the past. But you were ignorant back then. Now, you’re completely aware of how strongly you love Caleb, how deeply and wholly it consumes you, so all of the normal things you did together seem to carry a deeper meaning. But it has to be your imagination—it’s just all in your head. You can't believe that Caleb sees this any different than normal. Caleb is your best friend so he obviously loves you, just…not like how you love him.

It stings like a bitch to admit, but you have to come to terms with it. You won’t be avoiding him anymore, you’ve already decided that, so you need to be able to handle it when Caleb does something platonically affectionate. ‘You’re his best friend—like a little kid sister to him.’ You chant like a mantra inside of your head, trying to control the blush on your face when you watch his arms flex as he uses a knife. You can’t help but trace over his profile, lingering on the length of his eyelashes, the sharp just of his jawline, the soft furrow of his brow as he concentrates, the softened line of his pink lips. It’s kind of creepy how hard you stare, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Not when everything about him draws you in like a moth to a flame.

“You’re unusually quiet. What’s goin’ on in that big ole brain of yours?” Caleb keeps his eyes trained on the pork belly he’s cutting, but you still feel his attention zero in on you regardless. You fidget a little, expecting the question yet not at the same time. What should you even say?

What you can only say, you think. The truth.

“I guess I’m just…sorry?” Your quiet voice comes out more like a question, and you drop your eyes to your socked feet as they sway. You can’t bear to look at Caleb anymore, not when the shame and guilt from before start to come back.

“Sorry?” 

You shrink back at the sound of his confusion, and as much as you loathe to bring it up first, the instinct to spill your guts wins. You’ve always been an open book to him, and after years of that habit, you don’t have the strength to change that now. 

“I…I’ve been avoiding you–,” A lump forms in your throat halfway through your words, and the rhythmic cutting of the knife abruptly stops. You keep your gaze down, but Caleb’s focus goes from being present in the background to suddenly being there. You can literally feel his eyes bore into your forehead. You hunch further into the hoodie on you—Caleb’s hoodie—as if it can physically hide you away from your problems. Still, you continue to speak, absently noticing Caleb start to move in the background.

“And I’m so sorry about that. It wasn’t your fault at all, I promise you. I just…I just figured that maybe I was, um, bothering you too much? I mean, I know I can be pretty annoying and you’ve been sweet to actually try and tolerate it, but I’ve got to grow up sometime, right? I shouldn’t be constantly texting or calling you over silly, nonsensical things about my day. I’m an adult, so I can’t be so selfish with you all the time, not when we both have our own separate lives to live—” You hiccup, and it's only then that you realize you’re crying again. Your fingers are bunching up the fabric of the hoodie you’re wearing, your knuckles turning white from the strain. You sniffle, opening your mouth to continue, but another hiccup interrupts you as more tears blur your vision.

The abrupt sound of the sink turning on momentarily quiets your crying fit, and you snap your head up towards the sound. Caleb is furiously washing his hands, and you can only watch bewildered as he does so for the next thirty seconds. He whips back around after, absently drying his hands with a nearby towel before throwing it across the counter. His face is slightly pained as he stalkes towards you, and you’re suddenly aware of how big he is once he gets close.

His shoulders block out most of the overhead lights as he crowds into your personal space, his hands coming up to cup your flushed cheeks as he slides himself in between your legs. The stare he gives you is complicated; emotions flitting too fast for you to decipher with your obscured vision. Gently, he uses his thumbs to clean away the tears falling down your face, wiping away the ones in your eyes just a moment later. You sniffle a little, staring up at him with wide eyes as he slowly lowers his head to bump yours. 

“Where in the world did you get the idea that I wouldn’t always want you around?” There’s a genuine note of distress in voice, though it’s clear he tries his best to hide it.

You only cry harder, shaking your head as your hands go from clinging onto the hoodie you're wearing to his shirt. It feels so stupid to admit that someone else influenced you—to say out loud that you were being so cruel to someone so important and close to you because you were afraid. Afraid that your feelings would get the better of you. Afraid that you would drive Caleb away with your clinginess. Afraid that you’d crumble to pieces if he ever rejected you. Because you need him in your life like you need air to breathe.

The grip on your face tightens.

“You don’t have to be so quick to grow up without me, y’know? Who said you needed to do that?” He switches tactics a bit, injecting a lighter tone in his voice as he wipes away more of your tears. Your lower lip wobbles, but you do take his words to heart. A little bit, at least. You open and close your mouth, and it takes more than one try to speak past the lump in your throat, but you do after a few moments of patience.

“...You don’t think it’s immature? You don’t…you aren’t annoyed by me being so-so clingy?”

He shakes his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling faintly when he gives you a soft smile. You sniffle again, leaning into the warm palms holding your face. Your fingers loosen the death grip you have on his shirt. He moves a little closer in response, and you can feel the heat from his body seep through the fabric of your pants. Goosebumps rise across your skin when you realize how close Caleb is to your inner thighs. ‘Focus.’ You demand yourself, breath hitching when Caleb swipes his thumb underneath your eye.

“Of course not. I like it when you call me up the way you…used to.” Pain briefly flashes across his face before that gentle smile comes back. Your lip wobbles at the sight, but he quickly shushes you, lightly squeezing your face. You understand the silent message and swallow down a fresh wave of tears.

“You…you seriously don’t mind that I want to,” live underneath your skin 24/7 “be near you anyway I can? Even if it means that I’m bothering you when you’re busy?” Your inner thoughts mortify you, but the idea of being around Caleb all day, every day is so appealing to you that you feel insane with the way your entire being yearns for that to be the case.

“You never bother me. You have to know that, right, princess?” You bite your lip, one part of you disbelieving while the other half sings with delight at hearing those words come from Caleb. Kimberly meant no harm when she planted the idea, but you’ve had months to turn it over repeatedly in your head, and your insecurities have been louder than ever in your isolation.

“I’ll start trying to…at least.” 

Caleb sighs a little, eyes flickering down for a moment before they meet yours squarely.

“Baby steps then.” He knocks your heads together gently before easing up his hunched shoulders. The palms cupping your cheeks leave after a few more seconds and he gives you one of his usual warm smiles.

“No more ignorin’ me, alright?”

You tellingly don’t say anything right away. You know you’re not going to avoid him anymore, it’s just, making your voice work after all of that feels like a herculean endeavor. Sniffling, you slowly blink up at him. Your silence makes his smile grow wide enough for his eyes to close, but there’s a rigidness to his expression that makes your stomach swoop. He leans back down, one of his hands tucking underneath your chin to raise it, the other falls to rest next to one of your legs on the counter. The back of his knuckles brush against your skin and you feel your eyes widen at the sharp look he shoots your way when his eyes open, smile fixed in place.

“You won’t ignore me anymore, right.” The soft murmur sounds more like a threat than a question, and that swooping sensation returns. You realize that you’re getting excited by the look in his eyes, your flush only growing more prominent when you feel yourself get embarrassingly wet from the intensity. You instinctively move to cross your legs, but since he’s still in between them they only tighten around his waist. His eyes drop to look down before they raise back up, one of his eyebrows arched as searches your face. After he looks his fill, a slight smirk curls the side of his lips up, and his head tilts to the side in an almost sarcastic fashion.

“R-right, I promise!” You stammer out, breath hitching when that downright mean look lasts for a beat longer before his smile becomes real. He pulls back the hand underneath your chin while the other gently rests on the outside of your thigh, lightly patting it before he removes himself from your personal space. Your breath whooshes out of you loudly, your heartbeat going a mile per minute as your red face gets even redder. His smile somehow gets brighter in response.

“Perfect. Now, just sit there and relax. Dinner should be ready in just a little bit.”

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

You stop pulling away from Caleb after that night.

You never did fully explain to him why exactly you started distancing yourself, no matter how subtle and unsubtly he tried to pry. You guess you feel embarrassed by the reason. Embarrassed that you allowed your fears to get in the way of your friendship—that you allowed these stupidly intense feelings of yours to negatively affect one of the few good things in your life. So you keep the real catalyst to yourself, instead focusing on catching up with Caleb. You haven't really spoken-spoken in…four and a half months, so there was a lot to catch up on. Which was easy enough to do once you started regularly calling and texting him. 

However, some things were still different, no matter how much you tried for it not to be.

Since you had your little revelation, everything and anything Caleb did that was even the slightest bit affectionate had you blushing like crazy. Constantly, you were flustered by the very obvious care he showed you, which had been amplified ever since you started talking again. It was like he was compensating for your insecurities by being extra sweet to you, and it was driving you insane to try and keep your head on straight.

He made a point to see you in person at least once a week, alternating between taking you out to eat or to walk around the mall, or cooking you something at home and watching movies. Without fail, Caleb would show up at your door knocking like clockwork. It worried you, at first. You didn’t want him to overexert himself in an effort to make you feel better, but you realized something about three weeks into this new routine.

Caleb needed it as much as you seemed to.

He was subtle about it, but you knew the man as well as he did you. So you noticed how relaxed he would get when you would ask him for things. How genuinely thrilled he seemed when you spoke openly about your feelings. How quickly he would respond to your texts even when he was busy, or how he picked up every single time without fail whenever you called. How he would jump at the chance to spend even a little bit of time with you.

How easily he would touch you.

You guys were physically affectionate before, but now…it was happening way more often. A hand on your waist, your lower back, resting behind your back or draped over your shoulder when you sat down; ruffling your loose hair or snagging your wrist when you playfully pulled away for him; pinching your cheeks to tease you, cupping underneath your jaw to emphasize a point he was making; or, god forbid, the few times he stopped you from rushing ahead by resting his hand on the nape of your neck and squeezing. He loomed over you in public, bodily putting himself between you and random strangers, using his height to his advantage when he wanted to herd you in another direction, coaxing you to lay or lean on him whenever you were sleepy either at home or outside.

After realizing that your relationship wasn’t so one-sided, well…it was easier to accept your new routine. Easier to allow yourself to indulge, easier to not feel guilty when Caleb was getting exactly what he seemed to want by looking after you so well.

Which led you to your predicament now.

“...You want me to come with you to a party?” You hold your phone up to your ear with your shoulder, chewing on a fruity twizzler as you circle a word in your book of word searches. It was sanrio themed and Caleb had snagged it for you on one of your little outings two weeks ago. The page you were working on was thirty-three out of sixty and was filled with various little chibis of cinnamoroll. 

“It won’t be that bad. Gideon’s cousin is throwing a bit of a housewarming thing, and he invited me to come. Last week you picked what we did, so technically it is my turn…” He trails off playfully, and you pout because he’s right. You had forced him to stay inside and ordered pizza—you refused to let him go back to his apartment until you had finished all five of the twilight movies. Payback, really, when he forced you to watch all of those boring ass war movies he liked so much.

You roughly blow out a sigh, sliding your pen into the book.

“Is it a party or a…party party?”

“A party party, so as much as I wouldn’t mind you wearing one of my hoodies again,” You flush at the pointedness to his tone, “You should make an effort to wear something a little nicer.”

“Caleb~!” You whine, throwing yourself back across your splayed out futon. The only thing he does is laugh at your expense, and as much as you want to be truly annoyed, you can’t. His voice is too warm and soothing in your ear for you to feel any true irritation.

“C’mon, it won’t be so bad. We’ll stay for an hour or so, and then we can head back to my apartment. You wanted to see it anyway since I moved.”

“I guess so…”

“Just a little bit of human interaction, and then I’m all yours. Doesn’t that sound like a good deal?” His voice is softer now, coaxing almost. Like you’re some little kid that needs to be convinced to eat their veggies. It shouldn’t make you flush so intensely. Nor should it make your mind go fuzzy and cotton-filled, but here you are. Zoning out a bit because of his tone.

“...Yes, it does.” You mumble, blinking to try and erase that sudden fog.

“See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it.” A fainter voice echoes from his side of the phone and he leans away for a moment to answer. You glance at the clock. 3:47 p.m on a Wednesday. He’s in the middle of his part time shift at the auto shop near his college. ‘He must’ve just been invited if he’s calling me during work hours.’ You finish nibbling on the twizzler in your mouth while you wait, a bit of dread filling your gut as you think about meeting Caleb’s other friends.

You weren’t scared of them, per se. You were just a little—okay, you were a lot introverted. Going outside only seemed like a good time if you were either with Caleb or going on a simple walk. Talking with people has never been something you liked or needed in your life. Too many bad experiences with others—both their fault and yours, depending on the situation—so you mostly keep to yourself. And Caleb’s friends are from college or from the mechanic shop. Places where certain kinds of men reside, and while you won’t just baselessly accuse his friends of being people you won’t get along with, you shied away from interacting regardless. But now…now you didn’t have a choice in the matter. So that meant you had to make at least a decent impression on them, if only to save Caleb some peace of mind.

“Sorry about that, one of the guys had a question about the truck we’re working on.” Caleb’s voice snaps you out of your pensive thoughts.

“No worries, you know I don’t mind.” He hums absent-mindedly, before shuffling noises can be heard through your phone speaker.

“What time’s the party?”

“This Thursday night. It officially starts at eight, but people’ll probably start showin’ up at seven-thirty.”

“Oh, alright. I get out at six, if you wanted I could meet you halfway?”

He scoffs. 

“I can just pick you up, it’s no big deal. I’ll just make sure to leave a few hours earlier.” You bite your lip, but you accept his decision. You’ve gotten better at that, you think. Following his lead more without questioning him so much.

“Your vacation starts this weekend, right?” You blink. What does that have to do with anything?

“Mhm?”

“Stay the week with me.”

Your eyes widen and you stare blankly out your window, just barely catching your phone as it slips from underneath your chin. You…you stay in his new apartment with him…for a whole week…? You don’t know whether or not you want to scream in delight or pass out in flustered embarrassment. Just thinking about being alone with him in his space for a whole uninterrupted week sends those familiar tingles down your belly to your cunt. You suck in a breath, cheeks feeling hot as your fingers tremble around your phone. Denial sits on the tip of your tongue because if you’re in close proximity for that long you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from doing something incredibly idiotic—

“Please? I miss you, and we already don’t see each other enough.” He doesn’t really beg, but that soft, cajoling tone comes back and it has you caving immediately. Because you’re still one clingy bitch and you do actually miss him like crazy whenever you aren’t near him.

You just hope that you can somehow find the strength to keep yourself together the entire week.

“The whole week, huh. Sure, why not?” You say softly, smiling when that gets you a slightly startled intake of breath. Did he really think you weren’t going to say yes?

“You’re carrying all my bags, by the way. All of them.” You state without hesitation, smile curling into a devious grin.

“...How many bags are you planning to bring?” He asks cautiously, and you only giggle in response.

“You little brat.” He sighs out, but there’s nothing reproachful in his tone. You giggle again before you stop, hearing another voice pipe up from Caleb’s side. You’re a little sad to see him go, but he is technically on work time.

“Sorry, I gotta—”

“No, no it’s okay. We’ll see each other tomorrow night, then.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, princess.” He murmurs, and you hastily answer him back before the line cuts off. You sigh, bringing the back of your palm to your cheek. You get flustered so easily around him, but you’ve grown to handle it. Somewhat. Kind of. More importantly…

“Do I even have something appropriate enough for a party party?” You wonder to yourself, getting up to shuffle over to your closet. You never needed fancy or ‘nice’ clothes since you were in school, so you highly doubt you have anything on hand that was nice enough. You know Caleb won’t be super picky on the definition of ‘nice’ but…you want to make a good impression.

Ten minutes later you run through your whole closet and you have nothing to really show for it. You found a few hoodies that you’re definitely packing, as well as a couple pairs of fuzzy sweatpants you thought you lost. But nothing in the realm of ‘nice’ that this party required. You sighed a little to yourself, but picked out a week’s worth of clothes and shoved them into a duffel you had stored in the back of your closet. You’d pack the rest of your toiletries and other accessories you needed later. For now, though, you had to make a quick trip down the street. You’re lucky that there’s a relatively nice clothing shop within walking distance.

‘The fucking things I do for that man.’ You smile as you shrug on your jacket and slip on your crocs.

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

The soft ‘thump’ of your boots hits the ground rhythmically. You’re pacing a little, trying to get used to the added height the boots give you. While not your first time wearing boots like these, it is your first time wearing them with a skirt. It’s a strangely nice feeling, the gentle tickle of the soft fabric against your thighs, and you can admit you’re kind of obsessed with it. You make one last turn in your boots, almost tripping over a stray snag in your rug before you hastily right yourself.

Stopping in front of the floor length mirror propped against your bathroom door, you give yourself one last once over.

Your long hair flows down your back and chest, the thin braids you did topped off with shimmery white bows, lines of silver chains scattered throughout. Your makeup is simple—black puppy liner, highlighter brushed along your cheekbones and nose, and a thin layer of gloss that makes your lips twinkle a subtle black underneath your lights. Around your neck lies a thick, black choker with a layer of silver chains hooked to it. The real star of the show is your outfit, however. The one that you spent a decent chunk of money getting but one that you’re infinitely proud of.

The black bralette top you’re wearing is thin and stretchy; lined with lace and with a cute skull and bones decal. The top is the slightest bit on the small side, and combined with the sown in padded cups you not only don’t have to wear a bra, but your tits look fucking fantastic. The black skirt you’re wearing has ribbons lining the top like a corset, and cinches your waist in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you’re suffocating while giving you a nice shape. You paired it with wide-holed fishnet stockings and a pair of calf high, chunky black boots. You adjust the stockings a little, pulling them over the skirt up until they reach high unto your waist. You turn this way and that, cocking your head to the side to review your fit just one more time before Caleb appears. You’re mostly satisfied with it. 

The only thing that you would say kind of ruins it for you, though, would have to be…

‘Maybe I should’ve done the oversized look instead.’ Your mood plummets a little when you notice the layer of pudge slightly poke out from the sides of your skirt, as well as your slightly sagging arms. You cross your arms with an aggravated sigh, looking away from the mirror to ignore the imperfections you can see. You were so satisfied before…where did all that confidence go? ‘Wherever the hell my common sense went, that’s for sure.’ You think to yourself with a snarky tone, before you blow out a deep breath. You still have some time, maybe you could go and grab one of the graphic tees you have?

A knock at your door stops you, and you realize you’ve got no more time left. You sigh, lightly patting your cheeks before making your way to the door. You’re more than a little nervous—you feel a little sick, actually, but you’re trying not to think about that. With no time left, all you can do is grin and bear it.

One last breath and you swing the door open.

Your face gets hot when you realize how handsome Caleb looks—black jeans with rips in them and a grey button up hidden beneath an open dark blazer, a few buttons undone to reveal the sharp jut of his collarbones and the silver chain hanging loose—but what really has you flustered is the look on his face when he realizes what you’re wearing. It’s quiet between you two for a long beat as his gaze slowly travels your body from head to toe, something dark and hot swirling in his eyes. You lightly bite the inside of your lip, fingers gripping onto the edge of your door as you watch the rigid line of his body. It didn’t even look like he was breathing, and feeling the tension grow stronger the longer the quiet persists, you hastily try and break the ice.

“C-come in already, silly. Don’t just stand outside, I told you that you’d be helping me with my bags!” You swiftly turn away from Caleb at the door, blush spreading so fast that you’re dizzy from the rush. The look on his face…you shiver just thinking about it. That wasn’t the kind of look you give your best friend—not even close. You try not to let that stop you from gathering your purse and keys, though, heading towards your futon to pick them up. You bend over slightly, stretching out your arm to snag them from the other half of your bedding.

Except you’re a bit too far from the straps of your bag—a cute little thing in the shape of ghostface that you found in that store yesterday that just spoke to you. You huff, pretending like you don’t feel the intense stare burning holes into your back. You do in fact realize the position you’re in; you in your short and flowy skirt, half bent over your layed out futon, the entirety of your lower half nearly exposed. You feel a slight brush of cool air against the backs of your thighs, and feeling a little bold, you slide a knee up onto the futon. The fabric of the skirt slips higher and you snatch the straps of your bag quickly, blushing even hotter when you realize that you just most likely flashed Caleb behind you.

You aren’t that embarrassed about it, oddly enough. The look in his eyes when he saw you…it wasn’t one you’ve ever seen directed towards yourself before. But you can’t say that you’re upset by it, honestly it was a bit of a confidence booster. You…you don’t know the deeper meanings behind the heat in his gaze; you don’t know if it’s just surface level lust or if he thinks of you the way you think of him…but you are going to enjoy it for as long as you can.

Swallowing thickly, you slip the bag over your shoulder to rest across your chest, turning around with a bright smile.

“Ready!”

~~~~~

Caleb might have…miscalculated a bit.

The party was originally a way for him to segue into asking you to come over. He figured you’d give in easily enough and they’d spend a little time chatting in the corner before he’d whisk you back to his place. While he wasn’t certain what you’d be wearing, he also didn’t think it’d be too wild. That broken heart sweater and a pair of your black ripped jeans maybe. Or those new black cargos and the cropped graphic t-shirt of godzilla you adore so much. Something easy, something comfortable. You were being forced into a social situation you weren’t familiar with, so it’d only make sense.

Except you love proving him wrong when he least expects it.

He watches as your skirt swishes around the backs of your thighs, eyes trailing up the slope of your spine as you two walk towards his car. Thankfully, despite your earlier teasing threat, you only had a duffle bag and a book bag filled with your toiletries and other smaller items you wanted to bring—not that he was really worried about anything being too heavy for him to carry. Even if it was, he’d be way too distracted looking at you to feel any real annoyance.

Your hips sway in an unconscious, but sensual rhythm as you walk in front of him, your wild, dark curls bouncing softly, the thin chains in your hair tinkling ever so softly as they clink against one another. His fingers twitch with the sudden urge to tug at a stray braid swaying from the force of your movements, but he dutifully keeps ahold of your bags. He’s determined to keep his distance. If he really gets his hands on you, he wouldn’t be able to let you go long enough for them to leave. It’s difficult, however, when you keep shooting him these nervous little glances from underneath your eyelashes; almost as if you’re expecting him to do something. As if you want him to do something.

‘Not that I can exactly blame her for that. I wasn’t very subtle.’ He muses to himself. When he first saw how you looked, he was pretty sure he blacked out for a moment. He’d never seen you dressed so…boldly before. So much of your skin was on display, so much of your figure bared to his eyes. It took everything in him to not jump on you, but now wasn’t the time. He could have a little patience. It’d make when he finally takes you apart that much sweeter.

“You cold?” He asks after you rub your arms for the nth time coming down from your apartment. You purse your lips, the light from a nearby streetlight catching the enticing shine of your gloss. He pointedly looks into your eyes, as if that will stop him from imagining what your lips would look like wrapped around his fingers.

“I thought it’d be a little warmer out ‘cuz it’s still summer…” Caleb chuckles, fishing inside of his pocket for the keys to his car. You frown at him, lightly smacking his arm when he laughs again.

“Relax, princess. I’ve got a jacket in my car you can use.” He carefully gauges your expression, smirking a little when a glassy sheen covers your eyes. He expects it to quickly disappear—like it always does whenever he throws that pet name out—but it stays. The frown at your lips slacken into something close to a pout, your cheeks gaining a light dusting of pink that spreads to the tips of your ears peeking out from the fall of your hair. You go quiet again, but he leaves you to your thoughts, something forming in his head as he pops open the trunk.

He tosses your bags inside, slamming the back closed a moment later. When he looks up again, you’re poised by the passenger door, shivering slightly as you stare at your reflection in the window. That soft look still lingers in your eyes, and the idea forming inside of his mind solidifies. Caleb calls out to you, and you take a moment to blink before turning your head to face him. He rounds the trunk to the back door of the car, yanking it open and grabbing the jacket left on the back seat. 

“Here.” He holds the black bomber jacket open, watching closely as you shuffle over and turn around. He slides it around you, using the hands on your shoulders to flip you back around once you slip your arms through the sleeves. The thing practically drowns your figure, stopping just below where the skirt ends. You look good in his clothes, good enough that he's sorely tempted to just take you home instead of to the party. He has a slightly different plan—one that he thinks will work out just fine.

Looking into your eyes again, and seeing that hazy almost dreamy look, he gently tucks his fist underneath your chin. Using his other hand he guides you to lean against his car. Slowly, he tilts your chin up, lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb underneath the swell of your bottom lip, resting his fist above your head.

It has the effect he assumes it would.

Your breath hitches, that cooling blush of yours returning rapidly, coloring your cheeks and nose a splotchy pink. You…melt into the touch on your chin, wide eyes somehow growing bigger as you look up at him. Your hands reach for the edges of his blazer, fingers curling around the thicker fabric. He smiles, stepping in closer so that he can really tower over you, flattening his palm against the cool metal of his car. You stop breathing when he does and he lightly shakes your chin.

“Where are your manners at, princess? What do you say when someone gives you something?” He lowers the pitch of his voice a bit, softening his tone into something sweet yet chiding. You shiver, pupils expanding until a thin ring of your iris is left. Caleb allows the smile he wears to turn the slightest bit mean, relishing when that gets him a high pitched whine. 

“C’mon, you know the words.” He raises a brow and gives your jaw another shake. You inhale a trembling breath, blinking slowly before you open your mouth.

“...Thank you, Caleb.” He smiles at the sound of your lovely voice whispering out his name. He would bottle that noise, if he could. Drink it down for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. 

“Good girl. You’re welcome to keep that jacket, too. Don’t even have to steal it from me like you do my other stuff.” You only stare at him, lips parted and breaths coming in fast pants. He laughs, slightly mocking as he drags his knuckles up your cheek and down the side of your throat. He allows the contact to last for a few beats, taking in the obvious pleasure on your face, the way your legs shake, how you have to lean against the car to even stay upright. He hasn’t even done anything to you yet and you’re already like this. With one last gentle tap to your cheek, he finally leans back.

“Let’s go. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be stuck in rush hour traffic.”

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

You’re floating.

Not literally, but you feel as if you’re walking on air. Not even your natural social anxiety is affecting you now, thick into the crowd of Greyson’s family and friends. Caleb had mentioned a housewarming party, but that’s as far as you know. As far as you care to know, sitting primly on Caleb’s lap as he talks with one of his mechanic buddies—a man whose name you immediately forget once you hear it. The conversation doesn’t last long, maybe ten minutes or so, before the other man is drawn off deeper into the crowd in search of something else to drink.

Once the other leaves, Caleb leans his head against yours and looks down at your phone. You're playing a puzzle app, and he quietly watches you play a game of sudoku, occasionally jumping in when you get a little stumped. His hand curls around your waist, absently rubbing one of your skirt’s ribbons in between his fingertips. The other holds onto a red solo cup—the contents you aren’t a hundred percent certain on. He was nice enough to let you take a sip, but you weren’t a fan of the artificially fruity flavor, nor did you like the kind of alcohol hidden underneath it. Wine is more your speed, and after making a face once, Caleb merely laughed and kept the cup to himself.

You aren’t entirely sure how you ended up sitting on him like this, but you can’t say you mind. It’s nice being cradled close; your back resting in the curve of Caleb’s arm, your legs thrown over his thighs and your head resting on his shoulder. You’re warm—courtesy of Caleb’s jacket hanging off your shoulders—and comfortable. Aside from a few friendly ‘hellos’ by the various friends and acquaintances that stop by your little corner of the living room, no one’s really bothered you and Caleb.

As nice as it is, though, there’s still a worry that’s niggling at the back of your mind. A question of…why. Why did Caleb pull you onto his lap as soon as you two walked in? Why did he touch you like that earlier? Why has he been so intense lately? All of the questions you have float through your mind and it slowly begins to push back that pleasant fog you’ve had since you first walked out of your apartment.

You aren’t stupid. You know that there’s a tension between you two. The kind of tension that leads down a road that you both won’t be able to turn back from, but it’s the why of that tension that’s eating you up inside. Before a few hours ago, you wouldn’t have thought that Caleb was interested in you. But that look combined with his behavior…it’s clear that at the very least he’s attracted to you. But does he want you the way you want him—does he love you the way you love him? You don’t know, and that, you think, is what scares you most.

The fingers on your waist lightly tug at the ribbons in your skirt and you look up at him in question.

“How we feelin’?” 

“M’fine. Comfy.” You pause, biting the inside of your lip to avoid getting gloss on your teeth. Caleb immediately catches your hesitation.

“What else?” 

“...I’m a little…confused, too.” He doesn’t seem shocked at all, merely waiting with a warm expectant look on his face for you to continue. You open and close your mouth, stopping and starting until you gather the courage to finally ask what’s been on your mind.

“What am I to you?” Your question takes him off guard a bit, his eyes widening in surprise. He looks away for a moment, the shock turning into something deeply thoughtful. His gaze swings back to yours after a few long seconds of silence, a burning intensity lightning up the dusky-purple hues of his iris.

“What am I, to you.”

“Caleb, I’m serious.” You frown, feeling a little hurt that he seems to be making fun, but he just shakes his head.

“So am I. What, or more like, who do you see me as, [✦].” The sound of your name startles you, and you begin to understand that he’s deadly serious. 

“Who..?” You trail off, breath hitching when Caleb’s hand cups your cheek. He says nothing more, brushing the pad of his thumb underneath your eye as he waits. Your hand grips your phone tightly, a nervous tremble wobbling your bottom lip. Is he asking…does he want you to speak your feelings? You blink rapidly, feeling the familiar itch at the corner of your eyes.

You’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, and if Caleb wasn’t holding you like this, you think you’d run away immediately. ‘But I’ve already chosen to stop hiding from him. I promised myself that.’ You inhale, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again, meeting Caleb’s stare resolutely. You can do this—you can explain to him how you really feel.

He’s asking you to, and how could you bear to deny him like this?

“You’re my best friend,�� You reach out and lay your hand on the one holding your face. “You’re the most important person in my life. You drive me fucking crazy all the time with your relentess care. I’m basically spoiled because of you, y’know? Can’t even do anything by myself anymore, I need you around me all the time if I want to have any fun. You…you’ve got to know that you’re my entire world at this point, right? You’ve got to know that I—” You choke on the words, tears pooling in your eyes as your force the phrase your heart has been screaming for so long.

“I love you. I love you so much that it literally makes me fucking stupid.” You throw out with a watery laugh, blinking rapidly to try and salvage your makeup.

With every word spilling from your lips, Caleb’s eyes grow brighter and brighter; the smile playing at his mouth wide and baring the straight whites of his teeth. He’s absolutely gorgeous under the dim lighting of the living room you’re in, and the sight takes your breath away. He’s positively beaming with how brightly he shines, and it takes everything in you not to shake apart when he knocks his forehead against yours and that utter joy gets even closer.

“Then you know exactly how I feel about you.” He whispers, his warm breath puffing against your lips. You can barely believe your ears—it feels like a dream come true. For you to be held in his lap, close enough to see the little indigo flecks in his eyes, to count each individual lash on his eyelids, to see the wonder and love and lust in his eyes as he stares at you deeply.

“You–you do?” You know you sound disbelieving, but this moment truly doesn’t feel real to you. 

“That’s so hard to believe, to you? That I’d return your feelings?” 

You struggle to answer, struggle to do anything when the hand on your waist tightens, the one cupping your cheek sliding around to thread through the hairs at the nape of your neck. Caleb doesn’t look like he’s expecting an answer, though, his eyes dropping to focus on your parted lips. You flush at the heat in his gaze, swallowing back a groan when his fingers slip higher up your waist, catching on the fishnets and meeting your bare skin.

“I could show you, you know. If you give me a chance.” He murmurs, lightly dragging his nails against your skin. Goosebumps raise along your arms at the thought of him proving his love for you. You…you want that. You want that so much. Something must show on your face because Caleb chuckles, dragging his nose up to your temple to meet your hairline. You feel the soft warmth of his lips against your forehead, an action that makes you shiver.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” You nod, unable to speak as the anticipation rushes through your veins, the spreading warmth of your belly down to the throbbing heat of your cunt.

✦.─────── ☽ ₊‧.°.⋆☽◯☾⋆.°.‧₊ ☾ ───────.✦

You barely make it through his apartment door before he pounces on you.

His hands grip your face as he crowds you against the door, lips crashing into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. You moan into his mouth, your arms lacing around his neck. You scratch your nails lightly through his hair and he groans deeply into your mouth. The sound causes your cunt to pulse and you feel yourself leak against the cotton of your panties.

His palms slide down your neck and then down your sides before they travel around to grip your ass. Within the next moment, you're lifted into his arms, and you scramble to throw your legs around his waist as he blindly moves you toward his bed. You trail kisses down his chin to his throat, lightly sucking on the thin skin there. God, it feels like a fantasy to be here in his arms, getting the privilege to mark him up like this.

“Fuck.” He grunts when your teeth dig sharply into the side of his neck, the hands on your ass squeezing roughly before tossing you onto his bed. You’re panting harshly as your eyes travel up his own heaving chest. The lights in his bedroom are dim, and they cast exaggerated shadows against his tall form. As dark as the room is, though, it does nothing to hide the raw desire in his eyes as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Every inch of bare skin revealed makes you even wetter, and you squeeze your thighs together when he lets the shirt drape open. You shiver, biting your lip as Caleb drops to his knees on the bed, the buckle of his belt jingling as he unloops it from his jeans.

You swiftly follow when you realize you’ve just been staring, tossing off your top to reveal your bare tits to the cool room. Hands shaky from adrenaline and the slight chill, you reach for your skirt next, but stop when you’re suddenly yanked forward by your ankle. Gasping, you fall to your back and are pulled closer to Caleb. He easily positions you partly over his lap, legs spread and half folded over. Your entire body feels hot from that easy display of strength, and you whimper when he leans down to mouth against the side of your neck.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

His first sentence ever since you left the party startles you, but you don’t have time to speak when his teeth dig into your skin. All you can do is gasp out, fingers latching onto his shoulders as he licks over the mark before doing the same to another patch of skin.

“How long I’ve wanted to have you under me, spread out and fucking shaking apart.” Your back arches when one of his hands cup your tit, rolling a nipple between his fingers while the other hand slides down to unzip the back of your skirt.

“You looked so pretty tonight, you know that? Almost didn’t let you leave ‘cuz you were just too tempting lookin’ like that.” Those words send a bolt of heat through you, and you want to move against him, but you can’t, bent in half and held down by the bulk of his body.

“S’because of me, yeah? Got all dolled up cause you were going out with me?” You nod, helpless to do anything else when he slowly grinds his clothed cock against you. You can feel the hard ridge even through the layer of his jeans and your skirt, and you moan when you realize how fucking big he is.

“Wanted…wanted you to think I was pretty.” You gasp when the hand on your tit pinches your nipple, shaking when his other hand finishes unzipping your skirt.

“I always think you’re gorgeous, princess. But I don’t mind you dressing up for me. Can get you all the pretty little skirts and tops you want if you model ‘em for me. Only for me.” He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat before separating himself slightly, the corner of his mouth ticking up when you chase him. But he easily pushes you back down, closing your legs and yanking off the skirt like it personally offended him. He doesn’t even bother taking off your fishnets or your lacy panties after he spreads your legs around his waist, merely pushing them aside enough so he can stick two fingers inside of your cunt.

“F-fuck…Caleb!” You cry out, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you toss your head back. His words combined with the stretch of his fingers makes you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You’ve never had sex before—the only experience you’ve had were the different toys and dildos you have stashed away in your apartment. Other boys never caught your attention, and you were always able to satisfy yourself just fine on your own so you didn’t think you needed the touch of another. But having Caleb’s fingers inside of you now, pistoning in and out was electrifying and you know that it was going to ruin you when you finally feel him inside of you.

The thought has you suddenly desperate for it, and you weakly paw at the bulge in his jeans. He bucks into your hand with a low groan, the pace he sets with his fingers faltering once you get a semi-decent hold on his cock. He returns to his pace soon after stopping though, using his left thumb to rub against your clit as he slides the fingers of his right hand in all the way and curls them. You jolt at the intense feeling, desperation getting stronger as that coil in your belly tightens further and further.

“Give it to me, please, want it so bad, gimmie it now—” You whine, your other hand tugging at the loose end of his shirt while the hand on his bulge clumsily rubs up and down his dick. You blink the half-formed tears out of your eyes, pleading with your face as you desperately try and get him to listen to you. He spits out something too low for you to hear above the squelching noises of your sopping wet cunt, but you soon forget about that when his fingers hit that one spot inside of you just right.

You jolt hard, legs wildly jerking as a white-hot bolt of heat sizzles its way up your spine. The cry that falls from your lips sounds more like a wounded animal, but Caleb’s eyes are dark with satisfaction. He presses that spot inside of you again, rubbing insistently while he does the same to your clit. You can literally feel your brain melt out of your ears from the dual sensations, hips instinctively jerking up to meet his fingers. You’re on the precipice, riding the edge of that peak but you still aren’t quite there yet and it makes even more tears fall from your half lidded eyes out of frustration.

“You close?” But Caleb’s voice was more statement than question, eyes piercing as he watches you start to break apart underneath his hands. You nod anyway, crying out in protest when he slips his finger out. Only to squeal when he lifts you so that you're balancing on your shoulders, your thighs resting around his neck while he buries his face into your cunt.

You can’t even form words when his tongue traces over your clit, his hands placed on the soft flesh of your thighs, gripping tight enough to bruise. He eats you out without any foreplay, going from sucking on your clit to dipping his tongue inside of your hole, trailing nipping kisses to your inner thighs before he’s right back to licking into your cunt while nosing at your clit. It’s so much stimulation—too much stimulation for you as tears drip down your flushed cheeks. You can feel it coming, your orgasm. It’s in the way you clench on his tongue, thighs wrapped so tightly around his neck that you have to be suffocating him. But, if anything, the fervor he eats you out seems to grow, trialing one of his hands from your thigh to lightly trace over your hole. He slips two fingers back inside again, and using his tongue, fucks your dripping slick back into you. Your orgasm crashes into you when he hits that spot again, eyes rolling into the back of your head as white sparks flash across your vision. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, legs spasming around his waist as you finally come around his fingers.

“Mhm, fuck, that’s it. C’mon, let me have it all, princess.” Caleb’s words ride out on a slight laugh, the vibration of his hoarse voice making your cunt clench around his still moving fingers. The intensity of your orgasm flees, but he’s still thrusting in and out of you. Your voice is shrill when he rubs your clit hard, purposely aiming for that little spot inside of you as oversensitivity wracks through your frame.

“C-C-Caleb—!” You can barely get anything past your crying mouth, hands reaching out to tangle in his hair as he continues to overstimulate you. You somehow get even wetter, the sounds he’s causing between your spread legs are absolutely filthy as they echo out into the dark room.

“You’ve got another for me, don’t you. You wanna be my good girl, yeah? Give me another and I’ll give you what you want.” He licks another stripe from your hole to your clit, fingers rubbing that spot inside of you, pulling back to widen, before thrusting back inside and repeating. Through the haze filling your mind, you can hear the order he gives you. And of course, because you are a good girl for him—his good girl who listens to everything he says—you give him exactly what he wants.

You come for the second time, squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he can’t even move them inside of you anymore when you do. Your back arches off the bed at an insane curve, ragged moans and cries erupting from your hoarse throat before you fall limply back to the bed, hands falling to rest at your sides. ‘Did I…just come on command..?’ You feel tired and wrung out, but that burn of arousal doesn’t fade. Even when the feeling on your clit and in your cunt make you squeal from oversensitivity, you’re still soaking wet.

“Did so well for me, princess. So fucking beautiful when you come. You’’l look even prettier when you’re spread out on my cock–mh, fuck.” Caleb groans, slowly retracting his fingers, watching raptly as your cunt gushes out more slick. You whine out something unintelligible, your entire body shivering from the aftershocks of two orgasms in a row. But still, you dutifully let yourself be manhandled, half lidded eyes lazily tracking Caleb as he bends you in half again. Your eyes lock onto the smears of your cum and slick across his mouth as cheeks, something inside of you strangely warm at the sight of him marked by you.

Caleb’s muttering all sorts of filth about you under his breath as your eyes trail down his chin to his jaw, that satisfaction burning brighter when you notice the hickeys you gave him darken. Your attention is captivated by him as he slips his jeans and briefs down just low enough to pull out his cock. You can see the tip of it from how you’re angled, and the sight causes your cunt to clench and unclench at the thought of finally taking it.

“Fuck, look at you. Prettiest fuckin’ pussy and for my eyes only, yeah? No one else has seen you like this, and no one else will, cuz your little cunt is mine, right? Say it.” 

“M-my pussy, s’yours, Caleb. It’s all yours.” You whimper out. Caleb slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, doing it again when you wheeze out a moan. You wiggle your hips as much as you can in your position, wordlessly begging for him to finally fuck into you. He smiles at your desperation, but it’s a far cry from those sweet, gentle smiles he usually gives you. The slant of his smile is mean, his eyebrows rounded out into a condescending expression that makes you gush.

“Need this dick, yeah? Need me to empty that little head of yours—to make that itch go away.” He slaps the tip of his cock against your clit again before trailing it lower, lightly pushing into your hole before slipping it out. He does that a few more times, all with that mean little smile on his face as he watches your desperation turn into more frustrated tears.

“Caleb!” You cry out, tears slipping down the sides of your cheeks. He tsks, leaning over you until the tip of his nose brushes your temple.

“What did I tell you earlier about using your manners?” 

You shiver at the warning in his tone, mouth falling open when he trails gentle kisses down the side of your face until he reaches your lips. This close, you can taste yourself covering the lower half of his face, see the sweat that’s beading on his forehead and wetting his hairline, the wideness of his pupils as they eclipse the natural purple of his iris, the flush to his cheeks as he poises himself over you. You do what you always do in front of Caleb when he asks you for something.

You cave in.

“Please, please, please Caleb fuck me. Need you so bad, need you to make me stupid, please, want you—” You choke as he pushes in, eyes rolling back as the stretch of his overwhelms all of your senses. He’s so big that it feels like an eternity before he bottoms out. And when he does, you can feel the tip bump into something smooth and hard deep inside you. You jerk when he brushes that place, hiccuping when he shifts and hits that point again. Something…different is building up inside you, something that doesn’t quite feel like a regular orgasm. But you don’t have the breath to voice that weirdness out loud, not when you’re stuck staring up at Caleb’s slack, wet mouth as he looms above you.

“Thaaat’s fucking it, fuck—” He cuts himself off with a low moan, large hands pressing down on your thighs as he pulls out a little, then pushes back in. You realize that you’re drooling when Caleb leans down to lick it away from the corner of your mouth, the silver chain bumping against your skin and causing goosebumps to raise along your skin. You chase after his mouth with a little whine—you can taste yourself on him and it makes you clench down on his cock. He shivers, groaning before meeting you for a proper kiss, all the while keeping up his slow and deep thrusts. He puts more weight on your thighs as he kisses you deeper, tongue tangling with yours as you shakily reach up to throw your arms over his shoulders.

His cock hits even deeper than before, and you fall back with a drawn out moan, eyes unseeing as he does it again. It’s hard for you to register anything else when all you can focus on is the feel of his dick hitting that wall over and over and over again. Your mouth stays wide open as he slowly but harshly pounds into you, hiccuping breaths exiting you every time he bottoms out. You feel like you’re dying—the heat damn near suffocating you as it spreads like wildfire from your lower belly throughout the rest of your body. It’s too much too soon but you can’t help but love it—love how Caleb feels inside you, love how wild he looks above you, eyes half lidded and mouth parted from the slew of filth he’s spitting at you.

“So fucking tight, princess. Feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He groans out, turning his head to lay biting kisses against one of your calves. Your mouth only drops open wider, hiccuping again when he slides his other hand over to play with your clit. It takes one, two, three rubs before you’re clenching down again. White noise fills the space between your ears as you come for the third time on his cock, except you feel something else come out of you.

You don’t even realize that you’re squirting all over him, the wetness slipping down your thighs and his dick to wet the sheets below. You don’t realize much of anything past that point. Not the fact that Caleb jerks his hips forward as he finally came. Not the fact that he bit down hard on your calf as he did so. Not the fact that his other hand kept rubbing your clit, causing even more liquid to squirt out of you. 

Nothing else mattered in your mind at that moment. You were floating, weightless and thoughtless in a fog so dense that you couldn’t see a thing. It was freeing. It was so, so fucking peaceful that you almost didn’t want to leave. But there was someone coaxing you back with sweet kisses and large, warm hands. So you slowly but surely woke from that fog, blinking your puffy eyes open to see Caleb staring down at you in slight concern.

“Back with me, princess.” You nod, but it feels like your head weighs about a hundred pounds when you do. 

“Mhm.” You hum when it’s clear that he’s waiting for a verbal answer. The smile you get is worth the slight discomfort of using your voice, though.

“Here, drink some of this water and we can go to sleep.” You blink again as he helps you sit up, holding onto a glass of lukewarm water with a purple bendy straw. You drink as much water as you can, and are slightly surprised when you end up finishing the whole glass. Caleb laughs a little at your bewilderment, but soon he’s bundling you up in his arms.

You two lay back down and get comfortable on clean sheets—something you don’t think too much of at the moment. You lean into Caleb’s heat as he spoons you from behind, sighing when he slides one arm underneath your head. That arm locks around your neck in a chokehold, while his other limb securely wraps around your waist, hand resting low on your stomach.

“Goodnight, princess.”

“G’night.” You whisper, pressing one last sleepy kiss against the bicep against your cheek before you allow darkness to encroach on your vision.

[asksassyjackfrost]

Ryu could hide all he wanted, but Jack could read him like an open book. Tho he would save the deep conversation until they were alone

"Maybe later? Cant have you make me blush in front of your family" he teased, blush insinuating something way more private

-

Pitch chuckled.

A yetti came in with another chair for the man to sit down

North had stood up and was deep in a cabinet

"Well then, only thing left is to do is make it official than" he pulled out a couple of tiny glasses and a big bottle of clear liquid

"Oh,..um.. no-.." he sighed, Jack had told him of this bottle. It was the very same bottle that had gotten ryu and Jack together

"Oh, dont be a wimp! You can handle this. Good thing happen when you drink this" he laughed as he sat back down.

💍 (Cuz it be funny xD)

Send me ‘💍’ for our muses to wake up married after a night of heavy drinking

Jack opened his eyes slowly. Ugh.. His head felt like it was about to burst, his stomach felt sore and his mouth was as dry as could be.

The boy curled up and groaned slightly to himself, he could not remember a thing.. All he knew was that this was the last time he would challange north to a shot competition.

Something didn't feel right tho, he could feel there was someone else in the bed... Hold on? Whos bed was this? He rolled over, staring into an unfamiliar face. The white haired boy sat up quickly, only to fall out of bed, noticing that he was naked, instead of one thing, a ring on his left hand.

[thollandsgirl2013]

Can I please request one with touch starved reader??

Okay, so I got a little carried away with this request, but I really enjoyed writing it! 👀 I’m not sure if you’re comfortable with smut, so there’s a warning before it starts. Happy reading!

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮*

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → SMUT!! 18+, unprotected sex (pls don't do it), language, a bit bossy! Reader

Summary → The reader is touch starved after spending a week without Peter.

The apartment felt emptier without Peter. A whole week had passed since he left for a mission, and it had been torture. The phone calls at night were nice, but they weren’t enough. Hearing his voice through the speaker didn’t compare to feeling him—his warmth, his hands on your waist, his fingers tangled in your hair.

You weren’t usually this needy, but something about this week had been unbearable. Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe it was the way you had to fall asleep every night without him pulling you close. Maybe it was just that you were touch-starved to hell and back.

But finally, finally, he was coming home tonight.

You had been pacing the living room for the past thirty minutes, heart hammering in anticipation. You didn’t even bother with distractions—there was no way you could focus on a movie or a book when Peter was almost home.

Then, the sound of keys jingling outside.

Your heart practically leapt out of your chest at the sound.

The lock turned, the door creaked open—and there he was.

Peter stood in the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder, hair messier than usual. He looked exhausted but so, so good. His soft brown eyes met yours, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, bab—”

You didn’t let him finish.

You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your entire body against him. Peter let out a startled laugh as he stumbled back against the door, his hands immediately coming up to grip your waist.

“Whoa—hi to you too,” he chuckled, his voice warm with amusement.

You buried your face in his neck, inhaling deeply. He smelled like faded cologne, a little sweat, and home. “You were gone forever.”

Peter’s hands tightened around you. “It was a week, sweetheart.”

“Exactly.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, taking in every little detail of his face—the way his lashes brushed against his cheeks, the slight stubble on his jaw, the tired but happy glint in his eyes.

Then, you kissed him.

Peter made a surprised noise, but he quickly melted into it, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head. The kiss started slow, a soft press of lips, but that wasn’t enough. You tilted your head, deepening it, fingers gripping the fabric of his t-shirt.

Peter groaned against your mouth, his fingers digging into your waist.

“Missed me much?” He teased against your lips.

You glared. “I’m actually mad at you for leaving me alone for a week.”

“Oh yeah?” His grin was smug. “Doesn’t seem like you’re mad.”

You huffed. “I am mad. Very mad.”

“Sure,” he smirked.

“I am, Peter.” You pulled him into another kiss. This one was messier, more desperate, your hands moving to his shoulders. You felt the tension in them, the lingering exhaustion in his body, and you wanted to erase it.

“God,” he murmured as you pulled back for a breath. “Missed you too, baby.”

You pulled away breathlessly, eyes dark. “Bedroom. Now.”

Peter laughed softly against your lips. “Not even a snack first? A shower? Anything? ”

“No,” you murmured, kissing along his jaw, nipping at his skin just enough to make him sigh. “You left me alone for a whole week, Parker.”

“I know, I know,” he said, exhaling sharply when you kissed beneath his ear. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. “Make it up to me.”

Peter swallowed hard, his pupils blowing wide. “Y-Yeah, okay.”

Smut starting below 👇

You didn’t even give him a chance to process before you were dragging him toward the bedroom. Peter stumbled after you, still laughing under his breath.

“I feel like I should be worried,” he teased, but he didn’t resist as you pulled him inside, kicking the door shut behind you.

You pushed him onto the bed, climbing onto his lap, and Peter’s hands immediately found your thighs. His touch was warm, grounding, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re being clingy,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “You love it.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sliding his hands up your back. “I really do.”

You tugged his t-shirt up, fingers grazing his stomach. His breath hitched.

“Off,” you demanded.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s bossy tonight.”

“Peter.”

He grinned but obeyed, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Your eyes swept over him—his lean but toned body, the faint scars from old fights, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster under your gaze.

Then, you leaned in, kissing him again.

Peter groaned, gripping your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to make you whimper. He flipped you onto your back, pressing his weight against you. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he murmured against your skin.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly. “Then show me.”

Peter pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with heat.

“Oh, I will.”

And he was more than happy to oblige.

Peter’s lips crashed against yours again, rougher this time, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the tension in his muscles as he pinned you beneath him. His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your hips, then sliding under your shirt, palms warm against your stomach.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Take it off,” you murmured against his lips, tugging at your shirt.

Peter grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before helping you pull it over your head. His eyes darkened as he took you in, hands skimming over your exposed skin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

You tugged him down by the back of his neck, lips brushing against his. “Less talking. More working.”

Peter groaned, his fingers trailing up your sides before slipping behind your back to unclasp your bra. He kissed his way down your jaw, across your collarbone, then lower, his lips exploring every inch of newly exposed skin. Your back arched as he worshipped your body with his mouth, teasing, tasting, taking his time.

But you were impatient today.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up. “Peter.”

He smirked. “Yes, ma’am?”

You shot him a glare. “I need you.”

Peter’s breath hitched, his pupils dilating. “Yeah?”

“Now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His hands moved to your jeans, undoing the button and dragging them down your legs, his touch slow and deliberate. He tossed them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. His body pressed flush against yours, the rough fabric of his jeans teasing your bare skin. Even through his jeans, you could feel every inch of him—his warmth, his hardness, the absolute need crackling between you two.

Peter dipped his head, kissing you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, stealing every breath, every thought, until all you could focus on was him—his hands, his touch, the heat radiating off his body. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, teasing the edge of your underwear before retreating, making you squirm beneath him.

He was enjoying this. Drawing things out, taking his time.

But you were feeling bold today.

With a frustrated huff, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand lower, pressing it exactly where you needed him the most. Your legs squeezed around his hips, silently demanding he stop playing around.

“No teasing,” you ordered, your voice breathless yet firm.

Peter’s lips curled into a smirk against your skin. He pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw, his breath warm as he murmured, “You’re really not in the mood for patience, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes, fingers tightening around his wrist. “Do I look like I am?”

Peter exhaled sharply, the teasing glint in his eyes flickering into something darker, needier. He loved when you got like this—so demanding, so desperate for him that you couldn’t stand to wait another second.

“Bossy,” he murmured, but he obeyed.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, the first touch sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your head fell back, a gasp tumbling from your lips as he started working you over with slow, precise movements.

“Good?” He whispered, his eyes locked onto your face, drinking in every reaction.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, hips lifting into his touch. “More,” you demanded, your voice almost a plea.

Peter bit his lip, his other hand gripping your thigh, anchoring you down as he picked up the pace, his fingers sliding against you in all the right ways. He curled them just right, finding that spot that made you arch off the bed, a choked moan escaping your lips.

He groaned at the sight, at the way you fell apart under his touch. “Fuck, baby… you’re so sensitive.”

Your breathing hitched, a fresh wave of pleasure surging through you. Your thighs trembled, your grip on him tightening as you felt yourself climbing higher, nearing the edge, your entire body burning with need.

Peter wasn’t letting up. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his tongue flicking against your pulse, his voice a low rasp against your skin.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his fingers never slowing, never stopping. “Let go for me.”

And you did.

A broken cry left your lips as pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking, your fingers digging into his skin. Peter worked you through it, his pace only slowing when he felt you start to relax beneath him. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his hand still lazily stroking your thigh, grounding you.

When you finally caught your breath, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, his lips slightly parted, his expression utterly wrecked with desire.

You smirked.

“My turn.”

Peter barely had time to process your words before you flipped him onto his back, straddling his waist in one smooth motion. His breath hitched, hands instinctively flying to grip your hips, his eyes wide with surprise and something much darker.

“You really are feeling bossy today,” he rasped, his voice thick with admiration and arousal.

You leaned down, your lips hovering just over his, teasing. “Got a problem with that?”

Peter swallowed hard, his fingers tightening their grip on you. “Not at all.”

A smirk tugged at your lips before you kissed him—deep, slow, deliberate. You took your time, savoring the way he melted beneath you, the way his hands roamed your back, your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you the most. You rocked against him, earning a sharp inhale, his body tensing beneath you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breaking the kiss just to look at you, to watch the way you moved above him.

You dragged your fingers down his chest, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you slowly traced the lines of his abdomen. "You're so perfect," you murmured, your voice low and filled with desire.

Peter's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling under your touch. He tilted his head back, his hands gripping the sheets as he watched you.

You grinned, loving how easily you could drive him crazy. Your fingers continued their slow, teasing path, tracing every ridge, every scar, your touch light but purposeful.

His breath came out ragged. “You’re killing me, babe.”

You grinned, leaning down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down to his collarbone, your hands trailing lower, lower—

“Payback,” you whispered against his skin.

Peter let out a strained laugh, though it quickly turned into a groan as you palmed him through his jeans. His head fell back against the pillows, his hips bucking up into your touch.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You really—” His breath hitched as you popped the button of his jeans. “You’re really gonna do this to me, huh?”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Do what?”

Peter narrowed his eyes at you, but the effect was ruined by the way his lips parted when you slowly dragged down his zipper, the way his chest heaved as you peeled his jeans off. He was already hard, the outline of him straining against the fabric of his boxers, and you could tell he was barely holding on to his restraint.

“God,” he breathed when you pressed a teasing kiss to his lower abdomen. His fingers tangled in your hair, his jaw clenched. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shot him a smug smile before finally slipping his boxers down, freeing him completely. He let out a shaky exhale as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving a slow, experimental stroke.

Peter’s reaction was instant—his head tilted back, a deep groan tearing from his throat, his grip on your thigh tightening like he was already on the edge.

“Baby,” he gritted out, his hips jerking into your touch. “You—fuck—you’re so in control tonight.”

You grinned, placing a kiss just above his navel, deliberately teasing, watching as his stomach tensed beneath your lips. Peter’s fingers twitched against your thighs, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he exhaled a shaky breath.

“You’re torturing me,” he muttered, voice rough, eyes hazy with need.

You dragged your lips lower, just barely brushing against where he needed you most before pulling away, savoring the way he groaned in frustration.

“Patience, Spidey,” you teased, running your fingers along his length in slow, deliberate strokes.

Peter let out a strangled laugh, his head falling back against the pillows. “That’s rich coming from you.”

You smirked but didn’t respond, instead focusing on driving him to the brink, reveling in the way his muscles tensed, the way his breath hitched every time you moved just right. His body was like a live wire beneath you, every little reaction making you feel more powerful, more in control.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted out, lifting his head to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You hummed, leaning up to press a lingering kiss to his lips, your hand still working him over. “Maybe.”

Peter let out a breathless laugh against your mouth, but it quickly turned into a groan when you changed your pace, drawing another curse from his lips.

His hands slid up your waist, gripping firmly before flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. Your breath hitched as he hovered over you, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

“My turn now,” he smirked at you.

A shiver ran down your spine at the shift in his tone, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Before you could say anything, his lips were on your neck, trailing down, his hands roaming over your body like he was memorizing every inch of you.

You gasped as his fingers hooked into your underwear, dragging them down with agonizing slowness. “Peter—”

“I know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I got you.”

Peter pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, his fingers gripping your hips to keep you still as you squirmed beneath him. His touch was teasing, deliberate, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He was savoring this—you—as if he had all the time in the world.

“You were so bossy a minute ago,” he mused, his voice thick with amusement and desire. His lips ghosted over your skin, making you jolt. “What happened to all that attitude?”

You tugged at his curls, frustration curling in your stomach. “Shut up.”

Peter chuckled, the vibrations sending another spark of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightened just enough to keep you in place, his thumbs tracing slow, teasing circles into your skin.

“As you wish,” he murmured before finally giving you what you needed.

The first press of his lips to your folds had your breath stuttering, the sensation electric. His tongue flicked out, tracing along your sensitive bud, teasing, tasting. A deep groan rumbled in his throat as he settled between your thighs, his hands splaying across them, holding you steady.

Your back arched off the mattress as a sharp gasp escaped your lips, fingers twisting in his hair. Peter hummed in satisfaction, the sound vibrating against you, making your entire body shudder.

He was slow, methodical, taking his time to explore, his tongue moving in deliberate strokes, circling, pressing, teasing. His lips sealed over your most sensitive spot, sucking gently, only to pull back and do it all over again. His hands slid up your thighs, his grip firm, thumbs pressing into your skin as he kept you exactly where he wanted.

“Peter—” His name fell from your lips, breathless and needy, your fingers tugging at his curls.

He hummed again, clearly enjoying himself, the vibrations making your thighs tremble. He licked into you, his tongue pressing exactly where you needed it before his lips closed around the spot, sucking just hard enough to send a sharp pulse of pleasure through you.

You jerked, a strangled moan escaping you. “Peter—”

He pulled back just slightly, his lips glistening, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he gazed up at you. “You taste so good,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Missed this. Missed you.”

Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, a mix of frustration and pleasure coursing through you. “Then don’t stop,” you breathed.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then, he doubled down, his grip tightening, his tongue moving with even more purpose. He licked into you, slow at first, then faster, finding a rhythm that had your breath hitching, your thighs trembling. He alternated between long, teasing strokes and short, precise flicks, his mouth working you over with devastating skill.

His tongue circled your sensitive bud before flicking against it in rapid succession, the sensation making you whimper, your legs tensing. When he sucked at just the right spot, your vision went white, your body tightening, pleasure coiling low in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every passing second.

Peter felt it, the way you were unraveling, the way your breath hitched and your legs trembled. His fingers dug into your hips as he looked up at you through dark lashes, his voice a low rasp.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You let out a broken moan, nodding frantically, too lost in sensation to form words.

Peter smirked against your skin, his lips pressing one last, lingering kiss before sealing his mouth around you, sucking with just the right amount of pressure. That was all it took.

You shattered, your back arching, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body shaking as you tumbled into bliss.

Even then, Peter didn’t let up immediately. He eased you through it, his tongue still flicking lazily, his lips pressing gentle kisses against sensitive skin as he made his way back up.

You blinked up at him, still dazed, your breathing uneven, your body boneless against the mattress.

Peter smirked down at you, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Bossy still?”

You let out a breathless laugh, fingers sliding into his hair as you pulled him down into a deep, lazy kiss. “Shut up and fuck me, Parker.”

His pupils dilated, his breath catching in his throat. Then, in one smooth movement, he positioned himself between your legs, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Peter didn’t waste another second. His lips crashed against yours, his body pressing flush against you as he lined himself up. The anticipation had you trembling beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“You sure you can handle this?” He teased, his voice rough, teasing but breathless.

You narrowed your eyes. “Peter, if you don’t—”

He didn’t let you finish. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed into you, filling you inch by inch. Your mouth fell open, a sharp gasp escaping as your body stretched to accommodate him.

Peter let out a low groan, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he gritted out, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel so good.”

Your fingers curled around his biceps, holding onto him like a lifeline as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling with restraint.

“Move,” you whispered, lifting your hips slightly in encouragement.

Peter let out a shaky breath before drawing back, then sinking into you again, deeper this time. You moaned, arching into him, and that was all the permission he needed.

His pace started slow, controlled, dragging out every sensation, every sound you made. He was savoring you, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck, whispering sweet praises between gasps and groans.

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “Missed this—Fuck, you feel so perfect.”

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging him down for a messy, desperate kiss. The week apart had built up a hunger in you, a longing that couldn’t be satisfied with just slow and sweet. You needed more.

“Faster, Peter,” you demanded against his lips, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

Peter let out a low chuckle, but there was no hesitation in the way he obeyed. His pace quickened, his grip on you turning bruising as he drove into you harder, deeper. The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, mingling with gasps and moans, the headboard softly knocking against the wall.

Your mind was a blur, overwhelmed by the pleasure, by the way Peter filled every inch of you, hitting the perfect spot with every thrust. Your nails raked down his back, and he let out a strangled moan, his rhythm faltering for just a second.

“Shit, baby—” His voice was wrecked, his breath hot against your skin.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, needing more. “Peter—”

“I got you,” he promised, voice strained, his body moving in sync with yours, his hips snapping against yours at a perfect, desperate pace.

You felt yourself unraveling again, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, the edge creeping closer and closer. Peter felt it too, the way your body clenched around him, the way your moans turned breathier, needier.

His hand slipped between you, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot, circling, teasing, pushing you over the edge.

You cried out his name as pleasure crashed over you, your entire body tensing before unraveling beneath him. Peter groaned, his rhythm stuttering as your release pulled him right along with you.

His lips found yours in a messy, desperate kiss as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin, both of you clinging to each other as you slowly came down from the high.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing between you, the warmth of Peter’s body still pressed against yours.

Then, after a beat, Peter chuckled, breathless. “So, uh… I take it you really missed me?”

You huffed out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Shut up and hold me.”

Peter grinned as he slowly pulled out, a satisfied hum escaping his lips. Rolling onto his side, he immediately pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm, secure embrace. His fingers traced lazy circles along your back as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Bossy and clingy,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “I love it.”

You just nuzzled closer, content in the warmth of his arms, finally having everything you needed.

Peter’s lips brushed against your ear as he pulled you closer, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “You came three times, babe,” he teased, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

You groaned, half embarrassed, half amused, rolling your eyes as you buried your face in his chest. “Shut up,” you muttered, your voice muffled..

He chuckled, his fingers threading through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m just saying,” he whispered with a grin, “you’re fucking incredible.”

You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully. “You better be careful, Parker, or I'll boss you around more.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you gently, his lips warm and soft against yours. “I think I’ll be okay with that.”

And with that, you let the peaceful silence take over, content in each other’s arms, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

god youre so right about the dream writing getting more "polished" im not sure if you talked about this yet but do you think Silver is in trouble with how much magic hes using + the number of people hes transporting dream to dream? like honestly Im worried for him

[You can read my thoughts on the book 7 chapter 12 part 2 update here!]

For real 😭 I mean, I still have several major problems with the dreams (like how the pacing is off, how the characters waste so much time standing around and talking about their personal lives when the world is in peril, how they have a very set pattern especially when it comes to the OB boys, and how the dream logic keeps overcomplicating or contradicting itself). However, the character writing has drastically improved for some Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul dreams. Leona, Jack, and Ace’s dreams were very meaningful. Ruggie, Cater, Trey, and Deuce’s dreams had their moments as well, even if they were sillier overall. I largely found the Octavinelle and Pomefiore dreams to be dull or time wasters, Ignihyde’s (Idia’s) and Scarabia serviceable, and Diasomnia’s (Sebek and Lilia’s) good but Lilia’s was too long and Sebek’s was too short.

I too was at first confused about how often and how easily Silver is able to dream hop (something I had expressed in this post), but I honestly don't think anything will come out of it, even if it's fun to theorize. Silver states in book 7 that his UM doesn't take much to use. On top of that, Mr. Shroud (or was it Mrs. Shroud, I forgot but one of them for sure) theorizes that the mages that are resting are recovering the magic they use in their dreams (since technically sleeping helps mages recover from blot accumulation). So I think it's supposed to be a combination of these factors (although fans have suggested other ideas too) that explain away why no one is worrying about Silver's wellbeing this late into the dream hopping. Again though, his UM is probably designed this way as a plot contrivance to justify how he's able to visit so many dreams. In the most recent JP main story update, Silver mentions the limit he can handle when using his UM is ~10 bodies. He has just reached that cap (himself, Sebek, Yuu, Grim, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Ortho Leona; Idia is also there, but he is present via his tablet while his actual body remains elsewhere so I'm not sure if he counts). At the end of Trey's dream, it seems that they're able to leap into Riddle's dream just fine so I don't think there's really an issue.

[ballroomblitzzzz]

So I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, about wicked, because of course it's about wicked.

Specifically Glinda and her relationship to sorcery. (Hold tight this one's gonna be a whole ass essay) I find it interesting that the film really tries to make it clear that she has, not just little power, but none at all.

Because in the book she does have magic! Like there's this great scene where her, Nessa and Elphaba are talking about sorcery and she explodes a sandwich in their faces to prove a point.

This isn't relevant at all I just really like the scene. Point is, book Glinda's magic ain't too shabby. And in the musical (unfortunately I've only seen it once so apologies if I've read this wrong) I kinda saw it as she did have magic, but just didn't really get good at it before act 2. But in the film it's clear she doesn't have any. Like in NOMTW she pushes a pedal to make the bubble instead of using her wand, similar to how the wizard uses mechanics to fake sorcery. So why is it different? I hear you ask.

Well my curious child, I'll come to that in a minute (promise) right NOW I wanna talk about why Glinda wants magic in the first place.

And this is something that's had me stumped for a while, I mean it's not like she needs it. She can easily get whatever she wants from social manipulation, and yet it's still her heart's desire to become a sorceress.

And it's SUCH a big part of her character that couldn't just go around not being able to answer that question now could I?? And guys I think I figured it out.

So she's always been jealous of Elphaba, right? Right. And the thing about Elphaba that she envies, is that she's powerful without having to rely on other people. Glinda doesn't have that. She gets to the top because people like her. She said it herself, 'its not about aptitude it's the way you're viewed'. She knows the way to truly succeed is to make sure that you're liked. And she's very good at that, so she doesn't need sorcery, and YET she wants it. And to me this proves that Glinda hates the reason that she's liked. She wants people to love her for what she can do, not for the shallow persona she presents. She wants to have a power all to herself. She doesn't want to need people. She wants to be the kind of person who hops on a broom and overthrows the government at the drop of a hat (pun intended) but that's not who she is.

Of course she doesn't go with Elphaba. Elphaba can be strong on her own but without the public on her side Glinda is powerless.

And just think it's soooo fucking interesting how Elphaba and Glinda's different kinds of power can be seen as just another metaphor for their sense of self. Because Elphaba has had to trust herself, to have a strong enough identity to know that she's better than what people say. But Glinda's entire identity and self worth are tied to what people think of her, she's only as good as people say.

So of course she doesn't go with her.

But here's where she changes (for good hehe). And of course, it's down to Elphaba. Because Elphaba has always believed that Glinda is powerful outside of other people. And, back to sorcery now because yes that is what I started talking about, it's Elphaba who invites her to sorcery class, it's Elphaba who asks Glinda to come and meet the wizard with her, it's Elphaba who asks her to come with her in defying gravity and (SPOILERS FOR PART TWO!!) its Elphaba who gives her the Grimerie. Because Elphaba has always believed Glinda was strong even when she wasn't.

Glinda always wanted to be a sorceress but it was only Elphaba who had faith that she could do it. And this is what makes Elphaba giving her the Grimerie so symbolic and so, so fucking sad. Because Elphaba's showing her that she's better she thinks, she just going like 'hey, you got this'. And srhstjdyfkvhlvukflyyc. And so the way Glinda's viewed doesn't change at all, but the way she sees herself does, and so don't mind me while I go cry in a corner.

And you know maybe all this was obvious to literally everybody who watched the film and I've just mansplained lesbianism to everyone but I just really needed to write this down because I've been going insane about the power dynamics and I can't shut up about it.

And dude these characters are all so complex I just wanna peel them all like onions, but oh boy does it make my eyes water.

[aro-ace-from-outer-space22]

Also, both r/fanfiction and also the individual fandom subreddit (that your fandom almost certainly has if it’s big enough for you to lose a fic) almost certainly have a tag (flair) for fic finder requests that you can use! It’s super easy to make a Reddit account and even if there is a karma requirement for posting in the sub it’s not usually going to be as hard as it might look to get there, just leave a nice or helpful comment somewhere, I’m sure you’ll find something.

I know we all like to dunk on Reddit here, but it really is a very good website for asking questions and getting answers, or for asking for help and getting results-they found a book I loved but barely remembered any details about from when I read it in third grade for me, it’s a really useful resource!

an AO3 reminder

there’s been an uptick in “Help me find this fic” posts on AO3 and here’s a reminder that posting these is in fact a breach of the Archive’s Terms of Service (TOS)—and let’s face it: it’s annoying.

i know we’ve all been in that same boat of losing a fic, searching it for hours and even days which is a nightmare but please don’t do this (and please don’t encourage anyone by replying either) because:

it clogs the tags and works on AO3

posting it as a work is unnecessary since AO3 has a brilliant filtering system

it is against the AO3 TOS because its NOT a social media site (side note: please read the FAQ page) and if you keep doing it there’s a consequence for breaking the rules okay? (getting your account suspended probably)

what can you do instead?

1. learn how to use the AO3 search function

Searching and Browsing on Ao3

Hidden Search Operators Cheat Sheet

2. if you hate reading something that is not fanfic, then you can watch a tutorial

3. if you cant remember any significant tags or titles or even the author’s name for a search, then it’s time to reach out to your community—IN AN APPROPRIATE SPACE. Reddit, Tumblr and Discord are all excellent choices to ramble off those random details, snippets and vague scenes you can remember.

4. make use of the bookmark, mark for later and download options on AO3 when you find a perfect fic to read (instead of keeping 5000 tabs on your browser)

5. a physical notebook where you can write a fic title and author name, a google sheet where you can organize a list and even add links, list them on a notepad app on your phone—there are so many ways buddy

what if i still lose the fic?

please refer to numbers 1 to 5 above

what if i decide to still post a “HELP ME FIND THIS FIC PLEASE I PROMISE TO DELETE THIS AFTER”

(i know you wont delete it or forget to, ive seen it all, also please dont make another post, did you immediately forget the TOS in the last five seconds?)

then my dear AO3 user, your fellow AO3 users or even regular readers without an account can REPORT your posted “work”

how to submit a report when you find a LOOKING FOR A FIC work posted on AO3

[imaluvsj7]

✿ ─── WE MET IN 2025 : JAKE SIM

SYNOPSIS : finding your soulmate on the new year wasn't exactly your plan but guess fate has its own plan.

PAIRING : jake sim x afab reader ; GENRE : strangers to lovers, fluff ; WC : 2,522

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, I do proofread but if you find typos then I'm very sorry I make typos alotttt. Female reader(s) without any description of body; height; image, reader words in IT tech company, reader(s) has a family along with younger siblings — she is heavily playing older sibling role although the family is mentioned for the plot but no fights mentioned. That's it I think if you find anything lmk !! ENJOY READING DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Do you (first name and last name) take Sim Jaehyun to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” — “I do.” You responded to the priest's questions with tears fighting the urge to fall on your grinning face while hands shaking.

“Do you Sim Jaehyun take (first name and last name) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” — “I do.” Jake replied with a cheeky smile and eyes shining with tears as he tried to sooth your shaking hands by caressing your knuckles.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, now you may kiss the bride.” Holding your hands Jake leaned in and kissed you gently. Soon after parting away he whispered close to your ears, “I may sound like a jerk but I'm glad Do-hyun found you for help after getting lost on 31st December 2024.” — oh of course you do vividly remember that night. [ CLICK TO READ MORE ]

DATE – 31st DECEMBER 2024 | TIME – 11:15 PM

You never thought starting a new year with no one beside you would be this lonely. You lived in a different state for work purposes and unfortunately couldn't fly back to your parents home. The company really needed all the staff this year since the increase in consumers led to a good opportunity for your company to achieve big recognition among locals and brands.

It wasn't forced labour but a request by the company’s CEO and he did give 3 days holiday, for christmas and new year eve and new year to celebrate with families. Not enough big holidays because of the circumstances but an extra paycheck for the staff that stayed to consider his request.

You being one of those staff, currently your parents were facing some financial problems which was an obstacle for your brother’s studies. Being an older sister who had a well paying job you decided to help him as much as you can.

Not that your brother wasn't working hard already, he is studying hard for scholarship and trying to ease your and your parents' responsibility by a side hustle job where he works as a cashier in a small restaurant. But a family has other requirements and necessities too, at the end of the day he is a seventeen year old teen who deserves some freedom after studying and doing his part time job.

So the opportunity of an extra paycheck along with the opportunity to impress your boss as a good staff shined in front of your eyes which lead you to not attend your family holidays.

Your brother who wanted a bike for himself after he turned 18 this year didn't want to burden you so he decided to push the dream of a bike for some next year. Your father unfortunately lost his job after his company faced some serious decline in their business.

Your family always appreciates your efforts and loves you dearly so maybe it's the older sisters’ instinct that kicked you to take it upon yourself to help out your brother with his dream bike by adding some of your own money and help out your parents for their daily necessities.

Being tweety three — oh your birthday comes during holiday what a wonderful time right . You always wanted to work as a computer engineer since you loved the devices and for what reason, you don't know but the coding always looked like a cyber crime mystery to solve. sigh. . .

Only if, as a child , you knew how it's not just moving a cursor and typing vigorously but a lot of responsibilities to sit in front of the pc for long hours and daily headaches. You still loved your job but who doesn't trash talk about their profession right? Especially when you're supposed to enjoy the holidays with your family.

A petty reaction since you willingly chose this for yourself — but hey you're a human with vulnerable emotions so it's valid to have such negative thoughts about your job currently.

“Excuse me miss”, a soft tap on your thighs snaps you out of your thoughts and you glance down to see a boy with age around 7 - 8 years. “Yes, do you need something?”, you crouch down to his level. “I can't find my uncle….. he was here but I lost him in the crowd.”

“Oh it's the new years crowd so it happens it's okay we will find your uncle, what is his name or do you remember his number”, you ask while grabbing his hands on your own. “No, I don't know his number…. Ohhh! But I know his name. It's Jaehyun 삼촌 (uncle).”

“Okay you're a brilliant kid to remember his name huh.” He covered his ears while blushing at your compliment. Cooing at his precious reaction you stand up to find his uncle and ask him more about where they were before and what he looks like.

After a few minutes you start to get anxious but try to stay calm for the sake of the child but getting angrier — tch… who leaves a child alone carelessly in such a crowded place. “Do-hyun”, suddenly you hear a man shout a name while hurrying towards your direction pushing past the crowd.

“삼촌”, the kid whose name you forgot to ask response to the man while gripping your fingers tightly and dragging you towards the man. “He is my uncle miss”, the kid looks up with slightly teary eyes and soon the guy reaches to your distance.

“Do-hyun I got worried sick, why did you run away from the spot I told you to stand.”, the guy pants while scolding the kid with glossy eyes — trying his best to not cry. He scoops the kid in his arm after Do-hyun lifts his arms and soon kisses his cheeks and wipes his tears.

“Sorry I saw one uncle with same jacket as yours and I thought it was you so I ran after him but then I lost the sight of you 삼촌.” Oh so it wasn't the man's fault. Finally the man looks at you and says, “thank you so much for your help Miss — “Yn, Ln yn” — Miss yn.”

“It's okay but please be careful next time it's not safe for him to be alone in such a crowded place.” “Yeah I understand and sorry for the trouble. Btw, I'm sim jaehyun or jake for short.”

“Oh we should leave now Do-hyun, the fireworks are going to start soon for the new year and we can't leave your parents alone.” Jake exclaimed after checking his wrist watch. 11:46 — well they must live in a nearby area, you thought after realizing the time.

“Aunty yn you should join us too, you don't have a partner with you”, whoever said kids are brutally honest and don't have timings is totally correct. You mentally sigh as Jake covers his mouth to control his laugh while trying to fake a cough.

“Do-hyun, you shouldn't say such things to someone.” Jake tries to shut him up but — “but….. she really doesn't have anyone with her so I just thought we will give her some company.”

“That is because I couldn't go back to my home, Do-hyun. My office had some important work”, you try to give an awkward laugh trying to cover the situation which did work in your favour. “That's quite sad…. It's the new year.” “Yeah but the company needed some help this year so few of the workers stayed in which I'm included.”

“A hardworking employee huh, anyways Do-hyun is right you are alone might join us with the new year celebration.” Wow, a way of wording your sentence jake… great. “No it's okay I will get going after watching the fireworks, thank you for the offer tho.”

“Please I insist, this is bare minimum after all you have helped Do-hyun.” “Jake thank you so much but I don't think that will be appropriate plus Do-hyuns’ parents aren't aware and we barely have a few minutes left so you should leave asap.”

“Aunty yn, please join us. I will show you my superman collection.” “I appreciate it so much Do-hyun but I can't, I'm sorry.” “Is there any reason?” Jake asked. “No particular reason but I will be honest, it's our first meeting and I don't know you or your family Jake so I don't think it's reasonable and appropriate.”

“That's fine and pretty reasonable. Anyways thank you so much for helping Do-hyun we should probably get going before twelve.” “Yes of course! Happy new year to you both, deliver my wishes to Do-hyuns’ parents too.”

You take steps back and turn around to walk back to your previous spot since fireworks will start soon. “Btw yn — Jake calls you, making you halt in your steps. He walks closer to you and continues — if you don't mind will you…. uhh… you know.”

Looking at him with your raised eyebrows you wait for him to continue. “Maybe if you don't mind then can you give me your number.” handsome, interesting and maybe a flirt… you chuckle internally at his bold move.

“Asking for my number when you don't even know me properly is a bold move Jaehyun.” He lowers head a little while his face goes crimson red – so pretty – “To know a pretty girl better I definitely need her number”, he speaks with confidence but soon it crumbles when you forward your hand to him.

Well acts bold but is definitely a loser trapped in a hot body. You try not to laugh so he doesn't feel embarrassed while he puts Do-hyun down and fumbles to find his phone. “Just a second…. H-here… wait lemme unlock… password what is the password Do-hyun – oh yes wait… yeah here.”

He fiddles with his ring placed onto his middle finger while clearly trying to act calm and collected. Soon you push his phone forward after typing out your number. “Here you go.” “I can t-text you right….?” “I mean I gave my number for a reason.”

“Uncle Jake, are you done trying to bag a baddie? If so let's go home please, the fireworks are going to start soon. Mom and dad will be worried.” You and Jake laugh at Do-hyuns’ honesty

“Guess someone is using social media from a young age.” “No I don't use social media, I learnt this from uncle Jake when I asked him why he doesn't have a wife – “well Do-hyun I'm waiting to bag a baddie” – his words auntie Yn not mine.

“Okay enough exposure Do-hyun we need to leave.” Jake picks him up back while clearly to cover up his embarrassment and soon bidding good-byes he starts to walk away with his red face. “Thank you so much once again pret- I mean Yn, we will get going it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too Jake and also the little chatterbox.” You get closer to pinch Do-hyuns’ cheek. Soon walking away and smiling to yourself, guess grabbing the opportunity to stay here wasn't so bad.

──────── TIME SKIP ──────────

DATE – 5th MARCH, 2025 | TIME – 1:37 PM

PLACE – Daejeon O-World Flower Land

“Thank you for this date Jaehyun. I really loved the whole experience.” “Well I know your love for flowers especially flower gardens plus this place had birds so I thought you would like it. – “Like is an understatement I loved it” – guess my mission is successful now.”

You both chuckle at his words while holding hands and walking towards the bench. “You know I didn't want to reject your offer of visiting your place with Do-hyun that day.” “I mean it wasn't so appropriate to ask you that when it was our first meeting, that too by coincidence so i don't blame you for rejecting the offer.”

“Yeah plus you are a man and I can't trust a random man to walk to his house on the first meeting you know.” “I did realize that after I told my sister about our encounter. I don't want to sound sappy but it must be very hard to live as a woman right.”

“Well yeah but I blame man sorry.” You both laugh while he continues – “Valid reason though, I used to believe that we can understand what women go through if we study enough about the reasons for your safety but later I did realize that no matter how much we as a man learn we can never stand in the same shoes.”

“I think you are the first even man with an intellectual brain because wow that was a suppressing statement.” “Thanks to you and my sister, well she said it's bare minimum but yeah.”

“I mean she is right tho but I think someone is a keeper huh.” “Oh really then I think I might need someone to keep me with them to educate me further.” “If you think you can impress me with just a few words for women then you're wrong, Sim Jaehyun.” You tease him but knowing where this is going.

“No ma'am who said that, I will do better I promise but I might need someone to hold me accountable throughout the journey. Plus I have been yearning for a baddie for so long so I think it's time I bag one.”

“Oh is that so hmm… I think you shouldn't miss your chance then.” “Right, so pretty girl will you be please give me the honour of becoming your boyfriend and make me the happiest man alive by being my girlfriend.” “Yes Jaehyun, I will be your girlfriend.”

“Let's gaur”, he jumps while standing up and shouting in his Aussie accent, soon pulling you to him and spinning you around. “Jaehyun put me down I feel dizzy – “Naur I feel so happy.” – put me down or I will punch your face oh god I might throw up.”

Soon after a few minutes of calming your breath you both sit and pull his ears. “Oww… oww Yn that hurts sorry please leave my ears.” Leaving his ear and taking support of the bench to sit comfortably.

“Well the proposal was a bit corny”, you teasingly roll your eyes and while smiling. But he knows it's a joke after all he has spent enough time to understand your teasing. “Well sorry princess but I have been waiting for 3 months. I had to make it special by adding a few beautiful terms.”

“Shut up Jaehyun.” “Btw how many children do you want. – “Jaehyun”, you shout while smacking his shoulder – Sorry my bad I was teasing you.” You both continue to bicker without noticing an old couple who are standing on the footpath after witnessing the proposal.

“They remind me of us, honey. Remember we met in this park after we shared a bench”, one of them exclaimed. “They are in for a long ride sweetheart.” — the other partner replied.

© 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐒𝐉𝟕 2025 | DO NOT PLAGIARISE ON ANY PLATFORM

💌 ─── NOTE : ౨ৎ participation for ‘𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 ⎯⎯ ⠀ ✿ް⠀okwonyo’ by @okwonyo

After 2 months of not posting it's finally here. I'm sorry but after changing the plot since the first one looked rushed I went through writers block and couldn't think of anything so I really hope you all do find it good enough to read and leave your feedback, It will be appreciated <3

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